Carter was extremely hard now, but made himself wait for the signal. This was a dance. He could only ask permission, but it was the woman who had to place her hand in his. With her permission, there would be no dance, and he so wanted to tango with her. She put down the duster and walked past him to the window. He was very tempted to grope her thigh or her lovely backside as she passed him, but he refrained. She shot him a brief smile and then looked away, pretending coyness. Her ripe breasts jiggled under her black maid dress, cut just low enough to show some of her cleft and the bare skin of the tops of her breasts. She leaned forward, and Carter thought he was about to expire. Bending at the waist, she leaned over, giving him a glimpse of his promised land as she picked up a small dust bunny.
He stared inside her neckline. She was wearing the black lacy bra he handpicked for this moment, though he doubted she needed to know that he purchased the outfit the day after meeting her, two years ago. It was indecent, provocative, and sinfully sexy and he liked it. With her breasts surged forward, he gazed at them, at her smart hair and the little white headpiece of her costume. She ran her hands over the curtains to smooth them out, and then fluffed the throw pillows on the couch, furthest from where he was sitting.
* * * *
His eager stares made her feel incredibly good about herself and sexy. He made her feel special, though he didn’t know it. It was an awakening moment for her as she realized she was still able to attract and bed someone if she chose to. She had never been tempted after the accident. Not once did she indulge when someone flirted with her. She stayed away, knowing that her leg was repulsive. She had been faithful to herself all these years, and with one look from him, she forgot about the past. He looked at her as if he truly desired her.
She looked across at him once more as severe bitter thoughts about her past were driven from her head by Carter’s evident hunger for her, and by the bulge in his trousers. She was tempted to make a more definite move but held back. There was plenty of time ahead yet. Another few minutes would do no harm!
She stepped past him once more to stand by the side table nearest to where he was sitting as he watched her. She leaned forward over the table. Her saucy dress rose high up the backs of her thighs. Her legs and backside were only inches from his hand.
She leaned further down. She knew that not only were his eyes feasting on the backs of her thighs, on her silky stockings and her skirt hem, but that he must be able to see up inside the white-frilled hem of her dress to her crotch-less panties.
* * * *
Carter leaned closer, his hand itching to touch her. Her nearness excited him immensely. He could not resist tilting his head to one side to see her closely. He felt a surge of arousal. He normally preferred no panties, but pure white and ruffles gave the outfit a more authentic feel. That and they were crotch-less.
He was longing to slip his hand up her dress, and maybe just inside those silk clad legs, too, to stroke her thigh, maybe even her pussy. Nevertheless, his signal was taking its ever-loving fucking time. If she didn’t give him permission soon, he was going to lose it, right in his pants. He was trying to refrain, but his heart was thumping wildly as his ultimate fantasy unfolded before him. After a few minutes of dusting and trying to entice him, she stood up, to his disappointment, and moved back over to the first bookshelf she dusted.
* * * *
Vanessa’s heart was pounding in her breast. She was impressed and pleased by Carter’s chivalrous restraint, despite his obvious arousal. She felt desirable and attractive, and feminine. She felt she was getting her own back, even if secretly she knew it wasn’t going to last. She knew she couldn’t stay here. God, how she wanted to, but with her life crumbling down around her, she needed to figure out what to do next. It was only a matter of time before the new owner realized she couldn’t pay him, and when that moment happened, she didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t relish the idea of closing her shop, but if she had to, she would. She was no stranger to starting over. She would do what she had to.
However, for now, just for this moment, she would forget and just be.
Chapter Twelve
“You rat bastard!” Antoinette Sexton screamed as she threw another vase at Alex’s head. Luckily, for Alex, her aim paled in comparison to her extensive vocabulary. “She’s one of my best friends. How could you?”
“I didn’t know, love, I swear!” Alex ducked as another vase hurled toward him.
“Fix it, Alex! Like now, or my body is permanently off-limits to you, forever!” Annie shouted as she turned on her heels and stormed off.
“Well, brother, you really stepped in it this time,” Gabriel said, as he, too, walked away.
“You ingrate! You could have helped, you know,” Alex shouted after him as Gabriel laughed.
“Why would I do that? I am welcome between her legs.”
“Asshole,” he muttered.
Peter didn’t want to know what that fight was about, nor did he care to ask. However, it looked as if he didn’t have to look far for answers, especially when Annie shouted for all to hear about her best friend. It seemed that Alexander Ellis was the man of the hour.
“Alex, we need to talk,” Peter said, making himself known.
“I’m busy, Peter. Can this wait?”
“Why don’t you buy me a beer and tell me how you know Tristan Summerfield?” Peter stood his ground, waiting and watching the man before him. He knew he had him hook line and sinker when Alex froze and slowly turned toward him. “Are you here to kick my ass?”
“That depends on your answers.” Peter grinned, then patted him on the back. “Don’t look so glum, buddy. A good ass kicking always set me on the straight and narrow.”
Peter sat at the bar in the media room silently as he and Alexander Ellis waited for their drinks. He could tell that Alex was worried and a bit angry, and Peter wondered if that had anything to do with his wife, or what they were about to discuss. Since being in town, Peter had listened as folks talked about the elusive Tristan Summerfield as if he were some kind of ghost, sweeping in and taking what he wanted. However, Peter knew otherwise. Tristan was a money-hungry CEO, with excessively too much time on his hands. Tristan got bored easily, and when that happened, he was famous for stirring up trouble. Peter prayed that Tristan wasn’t in one of his moods, but from the gossip in town, it looked to be that way.
Hoping to get a location on his old childhood friend, he asked, “Where is he, Alex?”
“I don’t know, but if I did, I would string him up. Do you know how much trouble he’s caused? My wife isn’t talking to me, and folks around town look at me as if I am the bad guy.”
Peter would have laughed at Alex’s situation if he didn’t look so dire. However, he did know Tristan, and typically, wherever Tristan was, there was sure to be destruction to follow. It wasn’t his friend’s fault. It was just that Tristan didn’t believe in boundaries, and, well, as he grew older, he lived by the motto, money buys everything.
“How do you know Tristan?” Peter asked.
“We went to Oxford together. He was just as ambitious then as he is now.”
“Why is he here? Did he tell you?”
“All I know is that his company is moving. He was scouting some land over by the Kincaid’s property that was for sale, you know that large parcel that sits between their place and Celestial. Well, he had some of his people do some surveys, taking some samples, and then the next thing I know, he had purchased the land, and all the remaining land between Celestial and Treasure Cove. Also, I heard from Matthew the other day that Tristan paid him a visit.”
“Why?”
“Tristan was asking questions about the town charter, but specifically about the mineral rights.”
“Well, I can understand that. Tristan’s company deals with minerals from coal to natural gas. That’s nothing new,” Peter advised.
“It is when he’s just purchased a big majority of the land around here and has hired a construction compa
ny from Silver Springs to start building a corporate office and a small subdivision. It looks like Tristan is moving his company here.”
“But that should be good for the folks around here. Revenue never hurt a town.”
“That’s true, but he’s buying up all the business, too. He’s not helping anyone. He’s hurting them. When I found out about Vanessa’s store, I knew something was up. Why would Tristan want a boutique? Vanessa’s store barely makes enough money to pay the mortgage, yet that was one of the first places he bought.”
“What was the first?”
“The bank.”
“I heard about that. Did he say why he bought the bank?”
“Yeah, he said if he was going to invest a big chunk of his wealth into a town, he wanted to own the bank his money sat in, greedy bastard.”
“That’s Tristan. Did he say anything else?” Peter asked.
“Just before he left, he kept going on and on about a debt he needed to repay,” Alex informed him stoically.
“This makes no sense, because Tristan doesn’t believe in debts. If anything, people owe him. I have never heard of him owing someone, have you?” Peter asked.
“No.”
With no other information regarding Tristan, Peter headed home. There was nothing more he could do anyway. Until Tristan showed up, the big mystery as to why he was in town and buying everything in sight was going to stay unanswered. However, Peter did manage to ask some townsfolk that when Mr. Summerfield showed his face again, they were to call him immediately. Until then, Peter’s hands were tied.
Peter hated that this was happening to Vanessa. He really felt bad considering he personally knew the man that looked determined to put the woman of his dreams out of business. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why. And if Tristan succeeded, would that mean the end to his relationship with Vanessa? Even if he had one, what one there was, was fragile and tentative at best.
He spent the rest of the ride home trying to figure out how to solidify Vanessa to them forever, without breaking the fragile hold they had on her. Whether she wanted help was no longer an option. She was going to need all the help she could to fight Tristan, and Peter planned on standing beside her, every step of the way.
* * * *
Vanessa was getting pissed. All she did was walk around the room, in barely nothing, as Carter just sat there in that stupid chair grinning like the Cheshire cat!
She knew he was turned on, and if she had to be honest, she was, too, but she couldn’t figure out why the blond playboy refused to do anything but watch. It made no sense. If he wanted her, all he had to do was walk over and take her.
She was willing!
However, that didn’t seem to be the case, because when she stole another look at him, he was still in that damn chair, and if her assumptions were correct, he looked as if he were in pain.
It was the rumbling of a car that seemed to bring Carter out of his misery when she heard him say, “About fucking time.” Not knowing what he meant, she continued enticing him to the best of her abilities. Within seconds, Brice walked in the back door, greasy and grimy. Vanessa took in his state, and though she hated the messy look of him, her pussy dripped.
“I guess there is something to a sweaty, dirty man,” she murmured more to herself, and prayed that Carter didn’t hear her.
* * * *
Fucker! While Brice was with Vanessa last night getting his rocks off, he had been stuck in the bedroom, listening to every fucking moan, grunt, and scream. His dick was stiff, his balls were tight, and if Brice didn’t stop smiling and licking his lips like she was some tasty treat, Carter was going to lose it. It was his turn, damn it!
Turning his attention back to Vanessa, he watched her as she watched Brice. She too was smiling and licking her lips. He knew she could still taste him. He knew her pussy spasmed, instantly wet once more because he could smell her sweet scent. Her nipples hardened, and her breathing hitched. She wanted him again. Licking her lips once more, she bit her bottom lip and moaned.
“Interesting,” Carter whispered to himself, and then looked at Brice. “You busy, Brice?”
“Not anymore,” he replied, moving slowly into the room.
“Good,” he said, getting to his feet. “How about you help me with something.”
“Sure,” Brice responded as Vanessa never took her eyes off Brice. She stood rooted in that same spot as his friend entered the living room.
“Remove your clothes, Brice,” Carter ordered.
“Excuse me,” Brice asked.
“Watch her eyes. See how they dilate. She is hungry for more.”
“Don’t need to see her eyes to tell me that. Her breathing has increased, her nipples are hard as pebbles, and I can smell her arousal from all the way over here,” Brice replied, taking off his shirt.
Carter never took his eyes from her. She was indeed aroused as she stood against the bookshelf. No longer dusting, she seemed transfixed with Brice. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Carter knew what he needed to do to get the luscious Vanessa to submit, and it included his good buddy Brice.
Getting to his feet, he walked behind her, standing close. Lowering his head, he gently blew on her neck and whispered, “Look at him. He wants you again.”
She gasped as Carter sandwiched her in between him and Brice. He watched as her breast heaving furiously under the French maid’s outfit. She was intoxicating. He knew he had tortured her enough, and he couldn’t wait any longer either. His cock was begging to be released. It wanted smooth silky heat, and he knew right where he could get it.
Slowly wrapping an arm around her waist, he tightly pulled her back against him. His hard cock gently rubbing against her ruffled ass, as his other hand moved up her side, cupping her firm breast as his finger pinched and teased her nipple.
“You want him as much as you want me, don’t you, Vanessa,” he barely said, kissing her neck.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Passion is a wonderful thing,” he began, trailing his lips up and down her soft, silky neck, kissing and nipping her ear. “Passion means hunger, and hunger brings desire. Do you desire us both?”
“Yes,” she moaned when he bit her earlobe.
Slowly moving her closer to Brice, Carter removed his hand from her breast, sliding it around to her back. Gently pushing her forward, he bent her at the waist until her face was mere inches from Brice’s stiff cock. His hands slowly moved up and down her bare back, over her hips, touching her thighs, slowly moving toward her open pussy.
“Open your legs,” he ordered, and smiled as she did as she was told. Snaking his finger into the folds of her open pussy, he massaged and rubbed her clit. She was wet, ready, and eager to play. Brice looked at his friend, who waited silently in front of her, and he smiled.
“Suck Brice’s cock, Vanessa,” Carter ordered as he inserted a finger into her cunt. Her gasp was loud. He watched Brice’s eyes grow bigger as she reached up, took a hold of Brice’s stiff cock, and put her mouth around him. Her head started to bob up and down.
She was wet, so fucking wet. Removing his finger, he brought it up to his mouth and tasted her juices, licking his finger clean. Undoing the belt on his jacket, he quickly unzipped his zipper, freeing his cock. Rubbing the head of his dick against the crack of her ass, he teased her. She feigned shock but continued to suck Brice. Then she gave a little giggle, picking up the pace as Brice groaned and reached for her head as she started shimmying her delectable little ass.
Carter’s arousal surged. She was teasing him back.
Reaching around to the top of her maid’s costume, Carter ripped it from her, freeing her breasts. Grabbing her nipples, he pulled and pinched them, eliciting a small cry from her, causing Brice to grunt louder. He took the back of her bra and gently undid the claps. He wanted those ripe melons in his hands, needed to feel them tighten. She gave a little whimper of pleasure as he grabbed them and squeezed.
He stared at his own erection. It was
as hard as he had ever known it to be, and it was pulsing.
He stared at her legs in the silk stockings and stroked them. The feel of the soft mesh with her skin underneath and between it was very sensual. He slid his hand between her legs and stroked the very top of her thigh, finding her wet pussy again.
She sighed.
Taking a hold of his cock, he guided himself into her slick opening and began to fuck slow, hard, and deep. She moaned softly in time with his thrusts. He stared at his hard cock as it drove inside her cunt, wet and slick with her juices. The sight was very crude and erotic. He gripped her hips hard as she continued to suck Brice.
He gazed at her naughty outfit hiked up around her waist as his cock sank into her depths. Her silky legs spread apart as she leaned forward, allowing him and his friend to have their wicked way with her. She held still and rigid, allowing him to thrust into her repeatedly. He thrilled at the picture before him as he filled her, pushing into her at a rapid pace.
Her moans and slurps only fueled his imagination. This woman was his fantasies come to life as he plunged his cock deeper into her. He barely heard Brice yell, but when her head stopped moving, he knew his friend had just given her something to quench her thirst.
The thought of her drinking down his friend’s cum was enough to send him over the edge as he roughly grabbed her hips and pounded his release into her. He dropped so much cum inside her that it actually squirted back out getting his pants wet, and yet he still wasn’t done with her. He was never going to be done.
* * * *
Leaning against the door, Peter watched quietly as Carter and Brice both fucked and pleasured the pretty shop owner. Though Peter knew how strongly they felt about the young woman, he knew she wouldn’t be happy with what he was about to do. Their beautiful shop owner was going to need help, and soon, only she didn’t know it. Time was of the essence, and if Peter was going to keep his promise to help her, he needed her trust. Because until he found Tristan, he feared they were all she was going to have. Tristan was a friend, a good friend, but friend or not, nobody came into his town and fucked with his woman. Waiting for her to open up and trust them was no longer an option, because come morning, he was going to go against everyone and do what he wanted, not only to protect his woman, but to secure her to him forever, and God have mercy on his soul.
Joyce, Rebecca - Her Dirty Mechanics [The Men of Treasure Cove 12] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 13