Springer, Jan - The Pleasure Girl [The Desperadoes 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Jan Springer

  Spencer asked where he could find the utensils and his gaze snapped like wildfire as he also gave her a longing look before reaching into the drawer she’d indicated. As he moved away, she blew out a tense and totally hot breath and remembered yet again how the three men had taken her earlier.

  And now she was preparing dinner for them. She should be more embarrassed than this, shouldn’t she? Having sex with three guys wasn’t normal for her, so why was she so…well, calm wouldn’t be the right word. Excited. Aroused. Needy. Wanting more ménages sounded about right.

  “They fixed the greenhouse door for you,” Logan said. She heard amusement as well as pride in his voice at his announcement.

  “Ah, come on, Log. We wanted it to be a surprise for her. We were going to show her after dinner,” Spencer complained as he reached for an oil lamp on a nearby shelf and brought it down, readying it for later.

  Teyla hadn’t even realized it was already getting dark outside again. My, oh, my. The day had gone by fast.

  As she watched the two strangers setting the table, she once again warmed to the memories of what had transpired earlier with the four of them. Her on the bed, naked, strange men touching her, massaging her breasts, her clit. Kissing her. Moving her into the living room. Her ass impaled by Logan. Being triple-penetrated and all that naughty sex.

  Oh my gosh. Three men fucking her. She couldn’t get over it! And now all of them acting like one big happy family, setting the table. Except the entire time she watched the family scene unfolding, she became very aware of Logan’s gaze on her. Very aware, indeed.

  Even from here at the counter, she could smell him as she cut up more vegetables that she’d harvested from her greenhouse a couple of days ago. She tossed the carrots into the pot.

  Logan smelled like sex and desperation and bubble bath. Gosh, she couldn’t believe she’d had foot sex in her bathtub, with bubbles and a man. Every time she looked at the tub she’d think of their afternoon together. Gosh, it was getting so hot in here. With the back of her hand, she brushed away the whisper of perspiration blossoming across her forehead and looked up to find Logan still watching her.

  The intensity of his gaze made her tummy do some wonderful little flip-flops, and she wished she and Logan had met under other circumstances. Things would have been so different. Instead of being a pleasure girl to him he would have taken her out for coffee or dinner and a movie. Sex would have followed a little later on when the attraction could no longer be denied. Then the scorching ménages would have begun because it was obvious to her he enjoyed sharing her.

  She sighed and smiled at Logan, who in turn winked at her. Well, no use in dreaming about what could have been. Things just were.

  * * * *

  Logan was impressed at the men’s behavior toward Teyla. With other women who’d serviced them, Cassidy and Spencer had been their usual loud, cheerful selves. But tonight, both men minded their manners. Calling her ma’am and politely asking each other to pass this or that. By the time supper ended, he couldn’t stop himself from beaming or admitting to himself that his two partners in crime had never behaved better. Then, all too soon, reality came crashing in around Logan. He felt as if the weight of the world had once again settled on his shoulders when Spencer asked Teyla the question he knew should have been brought up much earlier. But once again, they’d let their guards down while enjoying a home cooked meal.

  “How did you manage to get rid of that guy who came snooping around this afternoon? Logan mentioned he was a cop or something? What did he want?”

  Logan watched Teyla for her reaction. Her easygoing attitude changed immediately, and she suddenly looked wary. He even caught a glimpse of that fear he’d seen slice across her face earlier when she first entered the bathroom after getting rid of their unwanted visitor.

  Dammit. He’d forgotten that reaction. Why had the sheriff dropped in? Logan had assumed he’d wanted servicing, but now with Teyla’s sudden nervous attitude and the other two picking up on it, both of them frowning and glancing with puzzlement at Logan, he knew his next course of action. He gave them a quick nod of his head, signaling them to clear out so he could be alone with Teyla.

  “I’m up for a walk. How about you, Cass? You want to tag along?” Spencer asked.

  “Yep, right behind you,” Cassidy answered as he quickly followed Spencer to the door where they grabbed their jackets. The slam of the door behind them made Teyla visibly tense.

  “Okay, so why was he here, if not for you?”

  Her eyes widened at his question and she stood and began clearing the dishes.

  “He was just checking in on me. That’s all.”

  She was now worrying her lower lip, and he came to the conclusion she wasn’t telling him the truth.

  “You’re lying.” He may as well confront her on it right up front.

  “That’s awfully nice of you, calling me a liar,” she snapped, and she slammed the dinner dishes into the sink. Whirling around, her eyes sparkled with irritation and anger.

  “Why the sudden interest in what he wanted? It’s not like you’re the outlaws he’s looking for, is it?”

  Shit, he had been looking for them. Son of a bitch. He needed to tell the guys. Hell, he should tell her the truth, too. Tell her what he and the others did. Why they were constantly on the run. Why they paid for their women instead of settling down with a nice chick like her.

  Oh, come on, Logan. You’re getting too sappy on this one. She’s a hooker. She sleeps with guys for living. That’s her job. That’s her only interest in you. Now get the answer out of her and start thinking of an exit strategy. If he was smart, he’d get the hell out tonight. Just in case this self-proclaimed law guy dropped in again, this time with a freaking posse.

  He saw the indecision flare in her eyes. The hesitation. That inkling of fear again. Maybe even distrust? He took a step toward her. Didn’t like the way she frowned at him for doing so.

  “I need to know, sweetheart.” Oh, man, that was a first. Calling one of the women who’d serviced him sweetheart.

  “He said the Durango gang was around. He said they did a railroad robbery a few days ago. That the posse discovered the gang had split into three groups and one group was trailed to the next town over. He also picked up horse tracks which disappeared into the river that comes through my property, so he came over to warn me to be careful.”

  “And you didn’t mention we were here?”

  “I told him I was waiting for my next customer and that customer wouldn’t appreciate him being here. He wants me, but he gets turned off whenever I mention other men.”

  “I bet,” he growled in agreement as irritation slammed through him at the idea of other men being here with her.

  He noticed a wisp of a smile reach her lips, and it seemed like she was pleased at what he’d said. Pleased that he was jealous. Suddenly the sweet rush of wanting to fuck her again took hold. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her and possess her. Brand her as his. Wanted to make sure she never forgot him and make sure she never fell into any other man’s arms again.

  Oh, yeah, he was drowning in her sparkling eyes here. His cock was getting way too hard for comfort. He needed to get away from her before he splayed her out on the kitchen table and fucked her again.

  “I need to check on the guys.”

  “Want company?” she asked, a little shyly. So cute. Too cute.

  He sighed softly as indecision gripped him. He needed to make plans with the guys. Needed to keep a guard out so the other two could take her.

  Oh, man, he needed to stop thinking about sex. About her.

  Take her for a walk, you idiot. Treat her like a woman. Not a hooker.

  Oh, hell, she was a woman. Fine and delicate as lace. Sweet as sin. He relaxed his roiling emotions and forced himself to smile. Yeah, he wanted her company. Didn’t want to be away from her.

  Reaching out his hand, he took hers, loving the warmth and strength of her fingers as they intertwined with h
is.

  Oh, yeah, this feels too good.

  “He won’t be back, if that’s what has you worried. He said he was getting a posse together and heading out to pick up their trail,” she said. There was quietness in her tone, and he could read the truth in her eyes. He knew she wasn’t lying.

  Their trail, she’d said. Not, “your trail.” Hell, yeah, he really should tell her the truth. He could trust her, especially if Dr. Elizabeth had sent him here. They wouldn’t be coming this way again. He’d covered his trail, and he knew Cassidy and Spencer would have covered theirs, too. They made it a habit of always hiding their tracks by heading to a river or a creek, and when they came out, they took immense time making sure there was no sign of where they exited. They would be safe. For now.

  “Let’s go and check out what they did with your greenhouse door.”

  She nodded and before they left the farmhouse, he grabbed her cardigan and helped her into it. Evenings were cold, and he wanted her to stay warm and safe. The safe part he couldn’t guarantee, but he could keep her warm while he was here.

  Taking her hand again, they stepped outside. From the porch, they had a great vantage point of the setting sun perched on top of one of the nearby snow-capped mountains. It was a gold ball, and as it descended behind the mountain, it cast an eerie golden hue over the buildings and the yellow grasslands. He knew he’d make an excellent target standing out on the porch if someone was aiming at him. But hell, he wanted to be here with her and watch the sunset. It just felt so normal.

  “Are you and guys the ones they’re looking for?” she asked in a quiet whisper, as if not wanting to disturb the beautiful scenery as they stood at the railing. With the blazing glow of setting sun splashing gold against her face, he could see the highlights of auburn flickers in her eyes and streaking her short bangs. She looked so damn pretty he just couldn’t get over it. How some guy hadn’t snatched her up before now was a mystery. It pretty much said guys around these parts were nuts.

  “And if I said that we are running from vigilantes and the law, would it change anything?” he asked.

  She lowered her gaze and he caught a split-second of disappointment, maybe even devastation, but then she lifted her chin with defiance and her eyes fixed on him with a smoky look that told him it didn’t really matter.

  “I just need to know one thing,” she said with a delicate softness.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why are you running with the Durango gang?”

  Why? Good question. He winced as a multitude of emotions shot through him. Anger. Loss. Despair. Fighting the people who lined their pockets on the misery and desperation of others really wasn’t his business. But after losing his daughters, his wife, and his life, he’d needed a reason to stay alive. How did he explain that to her?

  “Let’s just say it’s something I need to do.”

  She smiled, seemingly satisfied with his vague answer.

  “Come on, let’s go see what they did.” He tugged her hand and was pleased she easily followed.

  Chapter Ten

  He led her behind the barn to the glass greenhouse. It was a large building, sheltered from the north by the barn. The greenhouse was about fifty feet long by about forty feet wide. Only the southern exposure consisted of glass panes. Some panes were broken and patched haphazardly with plastic sheets.

  “They did a wonderful job with the door,” she exclaimed as she let go of his hand and ran to the greenhouse. She examined the leather strips that the guys had nailed to the door and the frame of the building.

  “They made hinges out of the leather!” she gushed.

  “It appears they are handier than I thought.” Logan chuckled as she shook her head in amazement.

  “The old rusty metal hinges snapped in two and right off a few weeks back during a really bad wind storm when I accidentally left the door ajar one time.”

  “Those storms can be scary,” he admitted.

  The thought of her enduring frightening storms all by herself out here snapped at his protective side. He forced himself to push that feeling aside.

  “I didn’t have any replacements. They cost an arm and a leg in town, so I just moved the door back and forth. And it was always so heavy. Sometimes I was so tired I couldn’t move it into place as best as it should have and the building lost lots of heat.”

  He inspected their handiwork and felt proud at how tight the door fit the frame and the fact they’d screwed in a heavy-duty leather loop that would fit over a long nail and would help keep the door closed. The door was a sheet of heavy-duty glass framed by solid oak and certainly did look heavy. Too heavy for a pretty woman.

  Oh, man, she needed help around here. He could clearly see that. She needed someone to slap a coat of white paint on the farmhouse, some red paint on the barn. Fill in the cracks of the foundation in the buildings. Replace the shingles fluttering off the roof of the farmhouse.

  She needed a man around here to help her run the place. To protect her from storms and creeps like that banker-sheriff who one day wouldn’t take no for an answer from her. She needed a man… like himself?

  He jolted at that thought and cursed silently to himself. He wasn’t through with his revenge. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  She opened the greenhouse door with ease and ushered him inside. It smelled of earth and flowers in here. It smelled normal.

  They stopped just inside the door where she reached for an oil lamp hanging on a post. She struck a match from a match box she unwrapped from a plastic encasing, and in an instant, a buttery glow from the lamp fell across her face.

  Her eyes were twinkling with pride as she led him down the main aisle. There were many rows filled with boxes lining both sides of the aisle. Boxes filled with dirt. Some, to his surprise, had little green sprouts shooting up. Other boxes were bare of dirt or had dirt but no plants. While other boxes contained plants in various stages of growth. He recognized carrot tops and spinach. One box was filled with Boston lettuce. Other boxes were filled with plants he didn’t recognize. But it all looked so healthy, and he felt pride sift through him that this woman wasn’t as helpless out here as he’d thought.

  “Impressive,” he commented as the warmth of the room caressed his face while he looked around.

  The floor was dirt and instantly he knew she’d be better off with a wooden floor with a couple of inches of Styrofoam insulation beneath the floor boards. The insulation would certainly improve the heat possibilities.

  He was surprised to hear the buzzing of bees nearby and noticed several of them hugging yellow flowers on what sure as hell looked like tomato plants. In one corner, he noticed a couple of white wooden boxes and a bee buzzing there as well.

  Amazing.

  “My husband and I put the greenhouse together from a kit, shortly after we moved in here.”

  Pride echoed in her voice. He could tell she missed her husband, and that familiar fluttering of jealousy zipped through him again. Cripes, he appeared to be jealous of a dead man.

  “Over here is my prize possession.” Happiness bubbled through her voice and sweet laugh lines whispered along the sides of her eyes as she led him to a box laden with dirt and plants topped with large white flowers. Each flower had three white petals and three large green leaves.

  Shock and surprise exploded through him. “Trilliums? Where did you get them?” Wow, he hadn’t seen trilliums since before the Catastrophe!

  “I dug up bulbs a couple of years ago. I remembered I had some in planters out back. When they didn’t sprout, I dug them up and transplanted them in here. I know it takes up space for something that would be useful like turnips or carrots—”

  He stopped her talking by placing a finger on her warm lips. Man, he was acquiring a habit of doing that, wasn’t he?

  “I’m babbling, aren’t I?” she said against his finger.

  “You don’t need to explain to me why you need flowers. It’s obvious.”

  Her eyes widened in question.


  “Because you don’t have a man who brings you flowers,” he explained and loved the way her eyes smiled at him. She liked his teasing. He liked her.

  Her lips moved sweetly against his finger as she smiled.

  I’ll be that man. He really should say it out loud. He was tempted to say it, but that freaking northern lights thing began flashing across the glass panes of the greenhouse, distracting him.

  He should have gotten used to those lights by now, but sometimes they just threw off his concentration. Or more likely he was using the Areola Borealis, as he liked to call it, as an excuse to not think about how he really wanted to be the one to bring her flowers every morning. Because he suddenly ached to do just that, to bring her flowers and tell her how much he loved those crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she smiled.

  “What’s got you all quiet all of a sudden? What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

  That I want to settle down here with you. The thought of doing that sent an ache so severe shooting through him, it literally felt like a punch to his stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, and to his surprise, she stabbed her warm tongue against the finger he still held against her lips.

  “Nothing’s wrong, baby. Show me the rest of the greenhouse. Like how do you manage to keep it so warm in here at night?”

  He dropped his hand and looked around the building. Noticed several barrels lining the west wall.

  “Solar panels on top of the roof keep the water in the barrels warm. At night, the warmth evaporates from the barrels and keeps the air warm and moist. The rest of the place is insulated. I’m saving up for materials to put in a floor that can produce radiant heat. Then I can grow produce that can’t stand the cold, like berries. God, what I wouldn’t give for strawberry shortcake.” She grinned and continued. “When I start selling produce, I won’t charge and arm and a leg…hmm, I should rephrase that, shouldn’t I? I’m not into eating humans…”