“Easy. Your voice has a sort of smoky note that Joe doesn’t have and your scents vary a fraction. It’s a bit difficult to hear in here with the background noise.” She turned down the radio.
He nodded, his gaze darting to her lips and away when she caught him in the act.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yeah.” He released her hand and shifted his weight from foot to foot—a sure sign of his agitation.
She understood his trepidation because she carried some of her own. “Does Joe have his phone?”
“Yeah.”
Kiera retrieved her cell phone from the office and pushed Joe on speed dial.
“Kiera.” She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth in his voice. She imagined the tender expression that usually accompanied the sentiment.
“I have a question. Can I kiss Sly if I want to?”
“Is Sly there?”
“Yes.” Kiera watched Sly. His feline hearing made things easier.
“You can kiss Sly, but I have rules.”
Sly stilled his jiggling, his eyes narrowing a fraction.
“Rules?”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “You can kiss and touch as much as you want, but you both have to remain clothed. And tonight after dinner, I want you to tell me exactly what you did together.”
A spark of arousal shot through her. Joe’s manner wasn’t angry or disappointed. Instead amusement tinged his words. His rules.
“Can you do that?”
“Can we unfasten clothing?” Sly asked.
Her attention shot to Sly and her stomach hollowed. Wow. Just wow. Her pussy clenched and her clit gave a distinctive throb.
“You can undo buttons and zippers. You can slide hands under shirts and underwear, but they have to stay on bodies. If I walk into a room and you’ve been in physical contact, I expect to see clothes.”
Her pulse roared in her ears. “And if you see skin as well?”
“A little skin is fine. Don’t forget—you have to tell me everything and how it felt. I want you to paint word pictures for me.”
Kiera swallowed at the curl of heat suffusing her. “I can do that.”
“Do I get the same word pictures?” Sly asked, a gravelly note emerging in his smoky voice.
“Sure, why not?”
“And if the three of us are together, the clothes can come off?”
“That’s the plan,” Joe said. “Catch you guys later. I look forward to show and tell.”
Sly’s brow scrunched as he stared at her. “Sometimes Joe surprises the hell out of me.”
“Exactly why I love him. He’s always surprising me. Do I get my kiss now?”
Sly didn’t answer. Instead he dragged her into a private corner where they weren’t visible from outside. He drew her into his arms and wasted no time pressing their lips together. While he started carefully, his kiss grew in confidence. His hands slid down her back until he palmed her buttocks.
Kiera sank into the kiss, her guilt at her need fading with Joe’s attitude. Sly lifted her a fraction and held her against his erection. Her nipples prickled and pulled taut inside the cups of her bra as he plundered her mouth. Ferocious heat claimed her, molded her into a creature of pure need. He tasted good—fully sanctioned yet forbidden. A whimper she couldn’t contain escaped and she swayed against his rock-hard cock.
At the murmur of voices, Sly eased their mouths apart even as he kept his tight grip on her body. Whoever it was didn’t come into the workshop but kept walking. She shuddered against him, partly in relief, because an intense yearning to taste more of him was pushing her to take things further between them. Kneeling in front of him, she unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper.
“You don’t have to,” Sly murmured, but his green eyes held the same yearning darting along her veins.
“And if I want to touch you more intimately?”
“Remember Joe’s rules.”
“Oh, I remember.” Her heart gave three hard thumps. She tugged his boxer-briefs down, tucking them beneath his cock and balls, lifting them up higher. Then she leaned closer and dragged her tongue across the swollen crown. She breathed in his scent and repeated the move with her tongue to memorize his fragrance and flavor. Sly cursed under his breath. His tone told the story.
“Take me inside. Suck on me.”
Kiera shivered at his words—not quite an order but a definite call to action. She took her time and blew warm air from the tip of his shaft to the base.
“Kiera, we don’t have a lot of time.”
“What about me?”
“You get the satisfaction of knowing you had me at your mercy. You get to make me come and spend the rest of the day wondering about how I’m going to give you pleasure tonight. Both Joe and me.”
Kiera stared up at him. “That’s torture.”
“If you don’t hurry, you will get a spanking.”
A gasp escaped before she could prevent it and his eyes narrowed. Bother. She’d piqued his interest now. “You’re as bad as Joe.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he held back a grin. “Has Joe spanked you?”
“No.”
His lips curved a fraction more. “Did you like it?”
“No!” So help her—she’d enjoyed having her arse spanked, which made her all kinds of kinky.
“Maybe he didn’t do it right?”
In order to shut him up, she grasped his cock and guided it into her mouth. She didn’t need him getting ideas. While she’d discovered spanking turned her on, a sore butt was embarrassing. Ambar had started asking mortifying questions.
His cock lengthened under her ministrations and he groaned, his hands gripping her skull. Aware of the need to hurry, she didn’t tease but went straight to work sucking and licking until strangled words tore from his throat. A primal sense of satisfaction filled her, the knowledge her actions made a strong man like Sly weak with need. She took the shallow thrusts, opening up to take him deeper.
“God, Kiera. Your mouth feels good.”
She went liquid deep inside and made a fierce wish her clothes would vanish, except nakedness would land her with a punishment. Sighing inwardly, she hummed around his shaft and tugged and teased his balls with her right hand.
“Fuck,” Sly muttered.
Elation filled Kiera at his curse, and she pushed the teasing along with tongue action. He cursed again and came with a harsh groan.
Sly was still shooting down her throat when someone entered the workshop.
“Kiera?”
Oh crap. Matthew. Kiera reared back in shock and received a weak blast of semen in the face.
“You there, Kiera?” Oscar called, sounding closer than Matthew.
Sly hauled her to her feet and tugged up his T-shirt to wipe off her face.
“There you are,” Matthew snapped. “Why didn’t you answer?”
Sly kept his back to her brother and calmly zipped up. “Because she had her mouth full at the time.”
Kiera let out a strangled gasp. Oscar and Tyrone appeared beside Matthew and took in the situation at a glance. They both smirked.
“Have you no shame?” Matthew asked.
“I’m not doing anything wrong.” Kiera was sick of her brother’s sanctimonious ways. Hello? Kettle, meet pot.
“He’s a bad influence on you.” Matthew glared at Sly before turning the bulk of his displeasure on her. “I’ve come to take you home. I don’t care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming, but you’re leaving this dump of a place.” He continued his rant, not holding back on his distaste for her workshop and Middlemarch.
Fury whipped through her, and Sly stiffened at her side. Aware of his need to protect, Kiera stayed him with a hand on his forearm. While she appreciated his support, she needed to stand up to her brother. “My workshop might be a dump, but it’s my dump. I like living in Middlemarch and I’m staying. My mates are here. My friends. This is my home.” As usual when her temper stirred, her precise, upper class
diction came to the fore.
“Your mates?”
Damn her temper. Matthew would pick up on her slip of tongue. Seemed this was a day for truth all round.
“Joe and Sly Mitchell.” She didn’t flinch from her brother’s incredulous expression.
“God, it just keeps getting better. My sister is a slut.” Matthew turned his scorn on Sly. “Which one are you?”
“Sly.”
“Ah, the jailbird,” Matthew said. “You can do better than this, Kiera. Our parents, Grandfather—they’d all turn in their graves if they realized your disastrous choices. Come back to England. William wants to marry you. You’ll have a life of luxury and you’ll never need to work again. You can’t live with two men. People will talk.”
“Let them talk. It’s their problem, not mine.”
Oscar stirred, a tic flicking in his jaw. “Why don’t you tell her the truth, Matthew?”
Matthew’s top lip curled up in a sneer. “Middlemarch is a backwater and Kiera’s place is back in London with her equals.”
“The real truth,” Tyrone said, his eyes icy cold with irritation.
Kiera glanced at Oscar and Tyrone and noted the strain in them, the tension. Usually easygoing and full of humor, they weren’t today. What had Matthew done? Tyrone’s hands fisted, and he glared at Matthew as if he wanted to punch him.
Kiera moved closer to Sly, taking strength from his proximity even if she didn’t want him to speak for her. “Matthew, you can talk until you turn purple in the face, but Joe, Sly and Middlemarch are my home.”
Sly slipped his arm around her in silent support. She appreciated his faith in her to handle her brother.
“Our firm is bankrupt. Matthew helped himself to the last of our company funds before we left and gambled it away,” Oscar said in a flat voice.
“I’ll fix it once Kiera marries William.”
Sly’s arm tensed around her shoulders. “You expect Kiera to fix your mess?”
Oscar snorted. “Yeah, that’s the kicker. He doesn’t understand he’s done anything wrong.”
“He doesn’t think he has a gambling problem.” Tyrone added his bit.
Matthew responded sharply. “You’re both out of line.”
“No. We’re stupid for trying to cover up your problem,” Oscar said. “Tyrone and I are flying back to England later this afternoon to sort out the mess you’ve made.”
“I have everything under control.”
Tyrone made a scoffing sounding deep in his throat. “You have nothing under control. You’ve stuck your head so far up your arse you can’t see the problem.”
A ragged, feline growl vibrated in Matthew’s throat. Tyrone whirled to face his oldest brother and snarled back, surprising the hell out of Kiera. Oscar and Tyrone had never stood up to Matthew before. In the past—as long as she could remember—Matthew called the shots.
Looking back, she didn’t understand how she’d gathered the courage to leave home and travel. Matthew hadn’t approved then, but at the time he’d been heavily involved with a woman. Lucky for her, the woman had distracted him beautifully.
“Matthew, I refuse to return to England.” She turned to Oscar and Tyrone. “I’ll miss you guys.”
Oscar strode over to her and sought silent permission from Sly before drawing her in for a hug. “We’re hoping to come back.”
Tyrone joined them and took his turn at hugging Kiera. “We’re definitely coming back. Once we sort out work permits.”
“That’s great. Where do you think you’ll set up shop?”
“Early days yet,” Oscar said. “It will take a while to sort out the mess at home. We might have to sell the family home.”
“We’re not selling the estate,” Matthew snarled. “Generations of the Pascoe family have lived there. It’s our heritage.”
“It’s a building,” Tyrone said. “Four walls and a roof.”
Oscar tapped her on the shoulder. “We’d better go or we’ll miss our plane.”
“Let me know how you get on with things,” she murmured to Tyrone. “Call me if I can help with anything.”
Sly and Kiera ignored Matthew and shadowed her younger brothers as they walked out to their rental car.
The shriek of an engine grabbed her attention. The driver was killing their vehicle. A sedan shot around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of them. Someone grabbed her from behind and hustled her toward the car, toward William.
“What the fuck?” Tyrone growled, a distinctly feline snarl.
“Matthew, don’t be a fool. She has a mate,” Oscar snapped.
Kiera kicked and wriggled and attempted to free herself from her brother’s grip. Her brother stopped abruptly, grunting when Kiera kicked him in the shins.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a hand.
“Let her go,” Sly ordered.
Matthew shrugged free. “I’m her legal guardian.”
“Matthew, Kiera is an adult,” Tyrone said. “She’s not a kid anymore.”
Matthew turned his glare on her. “If you don’t return to England with me, I won’t sign over your trust fund to you next year when you turn twenty-five.”
“The one you have signing authority on?” Oscar asked. “I doubt there’s any money left in your trust. Matthew’s probably gambled it away.”
“If you back out of our deal, I’m suing,” William said to Matthew.
“What deal?” Oscar asked.
“I don’t care,” Kiera said. “I have work to do.” She wrenched from Matthew’s hold, and when he grabbed for her again, she whirled around and punched him in the nose. He fell back with a howl, hands holding his nose and blood trickling between his fingers.
“Good girl,” Sly said. “I couldn’t have done it better myself. Do you have time to work on our tractor?”
“I’m all yours once I finish Mr. Jessop’s car. See you soon, Oscar. Tyrone.”
A slow grin of appreciation stretched across Sly’s face. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve flattened her brother immediately. Instead, he’d let her control the situation while waiting in case she required his help. She appreciated his restraint.
Kiera smiled back and took his hand, weaving her fingers with his, walking away from her brother without regret. Oscar and Tyrone would do what they could but gambling was an addiction. It was up to Matthew to take the first step to righting his life.
“What about your trust fund?” Sly asked.
“What about it?”
“It sounds as if your brother has stolen from you.”
“I have everything I need. Grandfather left me enough money to purchase my business. I don’t need the trust my parents set up for me.”
Outside, her brothers yelled at each other. Smiling, she climbed on the trolley and wheeled herself under the vehicle she needed to repair.
“They’ll have the cops dragging them off for creating a public disturbance soon.” Sly’s voice drifted to her. She grinned. Too bad. She’d let her brothers slug it out together. She had everything she needed right here in Middlemarch.
Chapter Fourteen
Joe expected Sly back to help him with the fence. Four hours later, he finished the fence on his own and headed home. The house stood empty when he arrived. Sighing, he kicked off his work boots and peeled off his socks before heading for a beer. He imagined Sly and Kiera together—hell, he steeled himself against a surge of jealousy. It didn’t happen. Sure, it would’ve been better to arrive home and find one of them here, but his gut didn’t cramp like it had at first.
Everything would work out for them.
Smiling, he sat his butt on a chair and sucked at his beer, savoring the icy liquid. Nothing better than a cold beer after a sweltering day. The first one always tasted extra good and slipped down easy.
The distinct purr of a vehicle brought a rush of anticipation. Familiar voices. He lifted his can and drank again.
Kiera burst into the kitchen, a broad smile on her face. She ran straight over and k
issed him. Long seconds later, after a satisfying meeting of lips and tongue, she moved behind him to massage the tight muscles of his shoulders. Lazy satisfaction simmered in him, along with the beginnings of arousal.
“Babe, you have talented hands.”
“Nothing wrong with her mouth either,” Sly said. “Want another beer? Kiera, wine or beer?”
“Wine please.”
“What took you so long?” Joe asked. “I needed help with the fence.”
Sly placed a beer in front of him and handed a glass of white wine to Kiera. “Sorry, I intended to return, but Kiera’s brothers arrived.” He dropped onto the chair opposite Joe. Their gazes met—Sly’s a little searching. Once again jealousy remained absent and Joe cocked a brow at his twin, the beginnings of a smile threatening to break free.
Kiera rounded the table to sit beside Sly. They were comfortable together and the idea pleased him.
Sly rolled his eyes. “I thought some of our family dramas were bad.”
Kiera reached out and placed her hand on top of Sly’s. “Why don’t I tell Joe exactly what happened?”
A note in Kiera’s voice grabbed Joe’s attention. This time a jolt of eagerness dive-bombed him. “I can’t wait to hear your story.” Joe scooted his chair back from the table. “Come and sit on my knee.”
“My overalls are dirty.”
“Take them off,” Sly said.
Kiera’s hesitation alerted Joe. He glanced at Sly and saw he’d picked up on it too.
“Kiera?”
Her chest rose and fell beneath the overalls. Finally, she stood and slid the front zipper down.
“Hell, Kiera,” Sly muttered.
Joe whistled his appreciation. “Tell me no one else realizes what you wear underneath your overalls.”
“I didn’t have time to do the washing. It was either this or commando.”
“That bra is more thought than substance,” Sly said. “I like it.”
“I take it the story you’re intending to tell me is a short one,” Joe said. “I was looking forward to an interesting tale full of caresses and kisses and skin.”
My Twin Trouble Page 20