Adding a long, loud primal scream to the pounding of the pillows did little to ease the tension. She needed to do something so she threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. Another check of the clock confirmed that Manny, king of the kitchen for the last twenty years, would be arriving at any minute. Since she had made a pot of chili and another of beef stew after closing last night, all he would have to do would be warm them up and make biscuits. He could cover the bar for however long it would take her to drive into town and try to get a handle on at least one corner of her out of control life.
* * * *
Drew pulled off the headphones he used to block out noises that would usually distract him away from his writing. Had the doorbell rung?
Standing, he looked out the office window and saw an unfamiliar Jeep Wrangler parked in the driveway. When the doorbell rang again, Drew headed to the front door. Hopefully, whoever it was would not demand too much time because he had none to waste. Brody wanted to meet at the Tavern for lunch and he was in the midst of his typical mid-book writer’s block.
He opened the door to find an outraged Hannah on the doorstep. She had crossed her arms over her chest, which pushed her breasts up and out between the front panels of her winter coat. Those beauties pulled his attention from her frown. One foot tapped a steady rhythm on the cement under her feet. She was not a happy camper, though he had no idea why.
“Hey, Hannah. What’s up?”
“Where’s Brody?”
“He’s working day shift. Why?”
She ignored his question. “When will he be home?”
As the cold March air swirled around him, Drew began to shiver. Flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt were not conducive for standing in an open doorway in Kansas in the middle of March. “It’s freezing out here. Come inside and we’ll talk.”
Her anger faded to concern when he stepped back and opened the door wider. Once she stepped inside, he closed the door then turned to face the woman who had become the main feature of his dreams.
“You look upset. What’s going on, sweetie?”
Again she ignored his questions as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. He watched in amazement as she dialed 9-1-1 then held the phone to her ear. “Sasha? It’s Hannah Roberts. No, the Tavern is fine. Could you please contact Brody Markham and tell him he needs to come home right away. Yes, uh-huh. Thanks. Bye.”
Drew stared at the woman as she clicked the phone off and returned it to her pocket. “You called Brody home from work? Are you nuts?”
Hannah met his gaze evenly though her expression told him her emotions remained volcanic. “Yes, I believe I just might be. We need to talk. But since anything I ask you will have to be filtered through Brody, it’s easier if he joins us now rather than later. Besides, he’s the one I’m pissed at most.”
Before drew could question him further, a police car pulled into the driveway. A moment later, a car door slammed. Without looking, Drew knew that Brody was probably in a panic about what might be happening inside the house.
A handful of heartbeats later, the front door swung open. “Drew? What’s wrong? Sasha said you had an emergency.”
Though Drew met his Master’s confused green-eyed gaze. Hannah answered his question. “It’s not Drew who had the emergency. It’s me. But I knew I would not get any answers from him without you being here pulling the strings.”
Drew sucked a breath as hurt and anger flashed through him. He might be Brody’s slave but he was no puppet. Sure, Brody took the lead in their life together, but he knew what was what. He and Brody had spent every spare minute over the past two days talking about their relationship, their love, and how Hannah might fit into their family.
“Drew is not without a voice or an opinion, but we’ll address that later. For now, what else is wrong? You seem more wound up and stressed than usual,” Brody said, his voice deep, gentle, and calming.
* * * *
Brody’s too accurate assessment made it impossible for Hannah to remain still as her emotional volcano rumbled. She began to pace the living room, absently noting the furnishings that screamed men lived here. A huge flat screen television hung over the fireplace. Opposite was an extra-long, extra-wide, comfy-looking couch that appeared that the ends might also convert to recliners. There were other chairs that were also big and comfortable, and she fought the urge to curl up in one and test them.
Though she tried to regain some control of her emotions, the pressure inside her had built to such an extent it felt like her head was about to explode. Instead of telling Brody she was fine, which she would normally say automatically, she opened her mouth and the words spewed out before she could engage her brain to mouth filter.
“Why would I be more wound up and stressed than usual? Just because my part-time waitress only wants to work half the hours she’s scheduled for because her job interferes with her skanky life. But she won’t quit because her parents will cut her off if she doesn’t have some sort of job. I can’t fire her because I’m too nice and she’s worked there longer than I have. This morning my sonofabitch husband called to tell me I should give him half the Tavern because he wants it. It doesn’t matter to him that I inherited the place from my grandfather two years after our divorce was final. And finally,” she took a breath as she turned to glare at Brody, “I’ve got a gay man who I thought was in a committed relationship flirting and kissing me like he’s straight, single, and interested. Only after he kisses me senseless, he carries his boyfriend, the one he’s supposed to be committed to, into the night, leaving me so horny that I cannot get myself off no matter what I try. Then, instead of calling the next morning to explain his actions, he goes radio silent, which only adds to my confusion. So yeah, I guess I am a little bit wound up and stressed.”
As tears overflowed and began to race down her cheeks, her rage died away. Only then did she realize how much she had revealed in those few unfiltered, out-of-control seconds.
Drew appeared stunned by her outburst, while Brady had dropped that damn Dom shield over his expression. The one that made it impossible to read what he was thinking.
“Oh hell, just shoot me.”
Her face burning and stomach knotting with embarrassment, Hannah headed to the front door. She almost made it when a large hand claimed down on her shoulder and dragged her back against a large, hard, warm body.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Brody asked, his voice softer and deeper than usual.
A shiver of submissive need shot through Hannah from her ears straight to her clit. “I’m going home. I’ve exploded, had my rant, and embarrassed the hell out of myself. Now it’s time to go to work,” Hannah said, trying to shrug off his hold.
But he would not release her. Instead, his other arm snaked around her middle and pulled her even tighter against his big, powerful body. Then still holding her, he turned the two of them until they faced Drew.
“Seems she’s upset because only one of us kissed her,” Brody said as he forced her to walk with him toward the other man. “Look at him, sweetie. His cock is growing hard as a rock just thinking about touching those luscious lips of yours. Can you imagine what he’d be like when we make love? For now, babe, you can kiss her and make her feel better. Just kiss her.”
Shocked by what Brody was doing and saying, Hannah twisted her head to look over her shoulder at him. Then she turned back to study Drew. The submissive man’s eyes were slightly glazed. Dropping her gaze, her breath stopped at the sight of the thick bar of his cock pushing at the front of his loose-fitting flannel pants.
Her confusion and embarrassment grew, making her want to escape and bury herself in a hole somewhere far, far away. She tried to wiggle out of Brody’s hold, but his arms tightened. One arm across her just under her breasts and the other angled across her lower body securely pinned her arms to her sides and her to the front of his body.
“I’d like that, Master,” Drew said before taking the three steps that brought him to within an inch of
her.
He settled his hands on her shoulders then leaned in and kissed her. His kiss was as sweet and gentle and loving as the man himself. The kiss was as different from Brody’s as the two men themselves were.
Where Brody dominated and took what he wanted, Drew gently coaxed her response. But like Brody, the touch of his lips short circuited her thinking and she gave in without thinking beyond how good it felt. She raised one arm up and wrapped it around his neck as the kiss went deeper and deeper, sending fire through her body and ratcheting up her arousal to a level she was not sure she would survive.
As if understanding her dilemma, Brody’s hand slid from her hip down to the center of her body then between her legs. She inhaled sharply as he cupped her mound securely in his palm. When his fingers wiggled back and forth over her labia, the orgasmic bomb that had been primed and ready to blow for the past two days finally did.
She screamed into Drew’s mouth as her orgasm exploded. It spread outward from her clit to the tips of her toes and ends of each strand of hair on her head. Then it swept back through her again, rocking her so hard she would have melted into a puddle of goo if not for the men who had her sandwiched between them.
Once her orgasm retreated enough for her to think again, she turned her head and ended the kiss. Then she dropped her head back to rest against Brody’s shoulder. She fought to contain the emotional release that was pushing her to sob out the overabundance of emotional energy that filled her. How could a simple kiss and a hand fondling her over her clothes send her into an instantaneous screaming orgasm when she had not been able to bring herself off using multiple toys from her collection just an hour before?
Once she could breathe without gasping, Hannah looked from Drew to Brody. “Though I would really like you to explain what the hell is going on, I have to get back to the Tavern.”
Chapter Four
Before Brody could open his mouth and say, “Screw work, let’s stay here and spend the afternoon in bed,” the radio on his hip crackled a call and a tune began to play in Hannah’s jeans.
He stepped in one direction and answered the call, telling Sasha he was still tied up with personal business. At the same time, Hannah walked away as she answered her cell phone.
He finished his conversation just in time to hear her say, “Don’t tell him anything. Put him at a table in the front and watch him like a hawk. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Hanging up, she slid the phone back in her pocket then turned toward the front door. “I’ve got to go.”
“What’s up?” Brody could tell just by looking at her that whatever the call was about was not good news.
“My ex-husband just showed up at the Tavern and started bossing Manny around like he owned the place,” Hannah said as she opened the door and walked out, pulling the front door silently closed behind her.
Drew turned to him, stunned by more than her final words. “Master?”
“It will be okay, babe. Let me make a call while you change clothes and we’ll go to the Tavern right now,” Brody said, taking charge as he always did in these stressful situations.
Drew was a beautiful man, but more often than not lived in the world of his stories. Challenges like this, which required decisive action and quick thinking, were sometimes beyond his capabilities. At times like this Brody took lead and Drew willingly followed.
Taking a breath, Drew nodded and headed to their bedroom. “Jeans and a sweater, babe,” Brody called after him. “And lay out something for me.”
Ten minutes later, Drew pulled into the Tavern’s parking lot. They were both dressed in boots, jeans, and sweaters under their winter coats. Brody sat in the passenger’s seat, wondering how to talk Hannah into taking the evening off so they could talk in private.
Looking around the parking lot, he recognized the handful of pickup trucks and SUVs. The only car he could not put an owner’s name on was the older luxury silver sedan with an Illinois license plate parked right beside the porch steps.
That was the space the locals left empty for old Joe Leonard who, at eighty-five, was the oldest resident in Loving. He still drove and came to the Tavern every night for supper and a beer before going home to watch television with his four dogs. There was no sign demarcating the space as reserved for Joe, but everyone who visited more than once knew not to park there.
“How do we handle this?” Drew asked as they crossed the parking lot.
“Not sure yet, but before we can talk her into joining us in bed, we’re going to have to deal with some of the other problems that are stressing her out.”
They were at the bottom of the steps leading to the front porch when the door opened and a stranger stepped into view. Brody categorized him as one of those fast-rising middle management types who bullied those around him. One who thought because he worked in an office and had earned a bit of responsibility at a young age, he was better than the rest of the world.
Holding the door open, the stranger looked back inside. “This ain’t over, honey. I’ll be back after you have a chance to think it over. Who knows, maybe you’ll want to sign the whole thing over to me.”
Hannah appeared in the doorway, looking strong, yet fragile in a way that set the back of Brody’s neck to tingling. Something was very, very wrong.
“Don’t bet on it, Seth. I gave you my final answer. You took two years of my life, you don’t deserve anything more from me.”
Though her tone was stern, Brody read fear in her eyes as she glanced from her ex-husband to him then back again. Seeing her standing up against the man despite her distress, he decided to push her so far out of her comfort zone she would be forced to see them in the light he needed her to.
Shooting Drew a look he hoped his slave would interpret correctly, Brody took a breath and climbed the steps with Drew a pace behind. “Hey, baby girl,” he said with a smile. “Miss us?”
He brushed past the man she had called Seth, who still held the front door open. Walking up to Hannah, he greeted her in the way he had been wanting to each time he had seen her for the past year. Wrapping his arms around her, Brody pulled her in for a bear hug and a kiss that rivaled the one they had shared days earlier.
When he finally pulled back, he gave her the same look he had given Drew. The one that meant, “Go with me on this.”
Though wobbled by his affection, relief chased the fear in her eyes away as she gave him a small nod of understanding. His heart clenched when she leaned a little deeper into his body.
“Who the hell are you?”
A finger poked Brody in the back and flipped him into the Dom-in-charge mode he used only when there was danger. He turned his head and stared down at the shorter man. He did not answer the question. He waited until Seth dropped his gaze before glancing at his slave then tilted his head slightly toward the woman in his arms.
With a step, he shifted so his body remained between Hannah and her ex, but allowed Drew to step in and get close to Hannah as well. Drew murmured something to her just before he gave her the same effusive greeting.
“What the hell? Hannah, who the fuck are these two? And why are they both kissing you like that?”
Brody’s frown deepened at the nosy little man but did not speak. The man who was obviously Hannah’s ex had stepped back, taking a defense stance. Was he really thinking he was going to take them on? For kissing Hannah? And why did he think she wanted anything to do with him?
Since Brody knew from talking about Hannah with her grandfather after she had come home, this asshole had demanded and paid for the divorce. So why was he sounding jealous of men who knew Hannah was a special woman to be cherished?
Something to think about later. For now, he was cold and hungry and wanted to spend a little time with Hannah. “Who is this person, baby girl?”
That affectionate name drew a gasp of horror from the man behind him, and a look of shock from Hannah. Drew just smiled and nodded in agreement.
It took a moment for Hannah to respond. Wh
en she did, she sounded a bit breathless, no doubt still stunned by their unexpected back-to-back kisses. “This is Seth Winston, my ex-husband. He just informed me that he thinks I owe him half the Tavern.”
“Does he now?” Brody asked, before finally acknowledging the man himself by holding out his right hand. “Brody Markham. And this is my partner, Drew Pate.”
Seth stared at his hand for a second before his deeply ingrained salesman psyche kicked in and he shook Brady’s hand. His handshake was limp and his palm a little sweaty even though they were standing outside in below freezing weather.
“Nice to meet you,” Brody lied.
Fighting the urge to squeeze it until he broke a couple bones, he dropped Seth’s hand. Looking at Drew, he gave a nod of permission that he, too, could shake the man’s hand. Drew must not have exerted the same restraint because when he shook Seth’s hand, the other man winced.
“So, which of you is dating Hannah?” Seth asked. Though he sounded casual and friendly, his eyes and expression gave away his displeasure.
Before Brody could answer, Hannah said, “Excuse me for breaking up this male bonding moment but Seth needs to go. Now. And you two need to come inside so I can close the door and stop heating the whole town.”
Brody exchanged a look with Drew then turned to her ex. “Sorry, Seth, but when our queen speaks, we must obey. Have a nice day.”
“Uh-huh,” Seth grunted, looking like he had a lot more questions he wanted to ask. Instead, he looked past the men to Hannah. “This isn’t over. You will give me half this place.”
With that threat left hanging, Seth turned and stomped down the steps.
Wrapping an arm around her, Drew guided Hannah inside. Brody pulled the door closed. He stood at the door watching until Seth drove his too-fancy, too-expensive status car out of sight. Only then did he take a deep breath and work to relax the muscles across his shoulders.
Queen of Clubs Page 3