Green Broke Woman

by Zoey Marcel

  “Eyes open, Kayla,” Travis commanded.

  Their hungry stares made her shy, but the vulnerability and being able to see that it was them made her feel hot and safe as the pleasure enveloped her.

  “Beautiful,” they remarked in soft voices.

  “Breathe easy, baby,” Jake coaxed as the silicone crown of something nudged against her prepped anus. Slowly he inched the noticeably larger plug into her asshole.

  Her legs locked, and she clung to Travis's hand and Keith's. “Jake?”

  “I'm here, pet. Just stay calm.”

  She sucked in a bunch of air at the gentle brush of the cloth in motion on her pulsing clitoris. The soapy material lightly scraped against her bundle of nerves, enticing it to the edge.

  “Come for me, baby,” Keith whispered against her heated, wet skin.

  The tingles intensified and exploded into a sensational storm of fire and pleasure. Her clit felt helpless as heat and sensitivity crackled in and on it. The feel of the cloth grinding effortlessly against her tingly flesh and the gentle pressure of his finger manipulating it made her tremble with arousal.

  She shuddered violently when his lips imprinted a kiss on her labia when the finale had settled. He rinsed her pussy off and dusted her sex with kisses. The intimate touch of his lips was sweet, but when his tongue dipped into her slit, disturbing memories were jarred and all hell broke loose. Their eyes on her only made the panic attack worse. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and mentally telling herself to chill out.

  “Kayla, if you want us to stop we will,” Travis promised.

  “I'm fine. I can handle this.”

  Those experienced bimbos would have nothing on her. She would be the best the Langleys ever had.

  A low growl of carnal lust rumbled in Keith. She knew it was him, but…

  “Keith, stop.” Travis sounded concerned.

  “No. Keep going. I'm fine,” she insisted.

  Keith's tongue dipped into her damp interior. He grunted, and she felt her wetness sluicing over his invasive tongue. He groaned perversely and fucked the hot, slick muscle into her, making her feel wet and dirty. The soft, sucking sounds of his slurping her fluids was the final straw.

  “Oh God, don't make that noise!” she pleaded.

  Keith's head flew up, and he wiped his mouth with his forearm. The sight of his face filled with concern and desire made her wish she'd muddled through to please him.

  Way to go, wuss. You have way more experience than you did at eighteen, and now you're too chicken to use it. See if they don't give up on you.

  “I'm sorry, baby. Too fast?” Keith asked, running his hands up and down her legs.

  She nodded, blinded by the mist setting in to cloud her vision.

  “We'll just finish washing you and then get you dried and in bed,” Jake said. “Keep the ass plug in. This one's bigger. It'll help.”

  “I can suck you guys off. I'm really good at that, and it doesn't trigger any flashbacks,” she offered desperately.

  Keith stood. “We don't want pleasure unless you get it.”

  “But I got it. I want to make you happy,” she begged, clawing at him. “Please let me serve you.”

  “Kayla, stop,” Travis scolded. “We'll be fine. Just let us take care of you. We'll get you cleaned up, dried off, and tucked into bed. We know what you need.”

  How could they when she didn't even know?

  Chapter Nine: Black Dragon

  Kayla sat up in bed when she got a scary thought. Her driver's license had her old address on it from when she'd lived with Master Hugh. She'd forgotten to change her license when she moved, and Beck had it with him. What if he hurt her Master?

  Like he could. Master Hugh had an attitude, and cane or not, he'd probably clobber the rich man to death before Beck knew what hit him.

  She scrambled out of bed and dialed Master's number on her cell phone. She had it memorized. The rings tugged at her heart, but all she got was his voice mail. She choked up at the sound of his voice and put a hand over her mouth.

  “Hello. You've reached my voice mail, and if you don't already know who I am, then why are you harassing me? If I'm not answering my phone, it means I'm either detained or I just don't want to talk to you right now.”

  She grinned through her tears. Even on voice mail he was a cynical smartass. It sounded like he'd changed his recording since they'd been together.

  “If this is my ex wife, it is you. It's not me.”

  Kayla snickered but then frowned, feeling jealousy coil inside of her. He was married before? He'd spoken of an ex, but she assumed he'd been referring to a past girlfriend, not a past marriage. Then again, she should have known. It stood to reason that a man of his age had been married before.

  The voice mail continued. “And if this is Black Dragon, I'm ready for you.”

  Her ears perked. Did he mean the BDSM club he'd once worked at in Lexington? Well, that didn't make a lot of sense. Why would he be ready for the club to call him? It sounded more like a threat. Was it a code of sorts? Why the hell would he talk in code?

  “Mmm, nothing like pumpkin pie, is there? The puree is just right.”

  She sniffled through a smile, wondering if he'd forgotten to turn the recording off.

  “Allspice, yes, nutmeg, mmm, yes, and cinnamon, can't ever forget cinnamon.”

  Her heart thudded, nearly stopping. He was talking about a spice, not her old pet name.

  “Oh cinnamon, there's no one like you, is there?” He sounded reflective and sad.

  Her pulse stuttered. Was he talking about her or the spice?

  “The best damned spice there is. Add some of that. You make the whole pie worthwhile.”

  Tears dribbled down her cheeks.

  “Mmm, now that's a pie. I love you, cinnamon. I always have, always will.”

  She started to sob, getting the nagging feeling he was talking to her. Probably not, but it wasn't like him to talk to spices.

  “Damn it. This is still on. Well, that will make for an interesting voice mail. Whoever you are just leave your name, number, and state your purpose and I might get back to you. Ciao.”

  Her heart sank. It had been a mistake.

  No. He was smarter than that, but why talk in code? Was that his subliminal way of telling her he loved her? Why not just freakin' tell her?

  The phone beeped, indicating she should leave her message. What to say to him?

  Just get to the point. Don't let him hear you cry, just in case he really is psychotic over a spice.

  She took a deep breath and went for it. “Ma...” Her eyes squeezed shut, milking the unbidden tears. “Hugh, it's Kayla. I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that someone else has my license, and it still has your address on the card. I just thought of it. I'm hoping they don't pay you a visit.”

  Her throat tightened, and her heart ached with feeling.

  “Please, please don't open the door for anyone named Beck Hammond, or Slade, or Bruce Callaghan. They're bad men. I need you to be safe.” She paused, letting the bittersweet memories of her time with Hugh Randall wash over her. “I did what you said. I went home. I should have done that a long time ago.” Damn it, she sounded like she was crying.

  Way to maintain a sense of dignity, Kayla.

  “I just ... I just wanted to let you know so you would be okay. I'm safe now. I should go. Bye.”

  She hung up, wanting to kick herself for sounding so tearful and pathetic on the message. Now he would know she was falling apart without him. Wonderful. The smug, gloating bastard.

  She went downstairs for a drink of water, surprised to see Keith heading toward the front door. “Where are you going?”

  “Jesus!” He jumped, looking like he'd been caught red-handed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “I'm sorry. Where are you going?”

  “Just for a walk,” he said quickly. “What are you doing up?”

  “I couldn't sleep.”

 
“Well, let me tuck you back in.” He walked toward her, looking caught off guard and utterly aroused when she put her hands on his chest.

  “I can be whatever you guys need me to be,” she said softly. “I'll try to get over my issues quicker.”

  “Take all the time you want.” He rubbed her arm and gave her a sweet but distracted smile. “Keep going to therapy. It’ll help you. We’re here if you need to talk.”

  “Thanks. Keith.”

  His brows rose to give her his attention without a verbal response.

  “Will you take me to the Black Dragon?”

  He blinked in confusion before a playful smile of mischief lined his face. “Now?”

  “Please.”

  “It's closed right now.”

  “I don't care. I want to see it. Please.”

  He looked at the clock and sighed before giving her a fond gaze. “Okay, but we're just looking. No touching the equipment. You're not ready for it yet.”

  “Yes, Master. Uh, I mean Sir. Yes, Sir,” she replied with a nod, refraining from smiling at the pleasure he seemed to get from her respect. If that seduced him to reacquaint her with the lifestyle she'd loved and lost, then she just might have to “Sir” the crap out of him.

  But did he smile because she remembered to call him Sir or because she'd called him Master?

  ****

  Excited jitters tumbled through Kayla's system when they pulled up to the fancy wrought iron gate. Keith leaned out the window and punched in the code so the gate opened and then closed behind them when they drove through.

  The driveway was long and dotted with stately oaks, weeping willows, and pines, but while the trees sheltered the two-story brick mansion, they couldn't conceal it completely. The grounds were landscaped and inviting she noticed as Keith parked the truck and they got out.

  “You've never been here before have you?” he asked with a naughty gleam in his eyes.

  She shook her head with a giddy smile. “No. I was too young back then.”

  “Definitely not too young now,” he muttered, adjusting his jeans.

  A surge of moisture pooled in her folds when she thought she caught a glimpse of a tent in his pants. Then again, it was dark, so maybe not. Was he excited just to have her here? He sure looked happy to be here with her.

  The magnificent, large brick house was studded with windows, which were framed with white trim and sandwiched by black shutters. The towering white columns book-ending the porch supported the plantation-style balcony above.

  Her attention was averted only when he pointed to the regal fountain gurgling and sputtering water from an enormous black marble dragon.

  Her face lit up as she examined it. “That's so cool.”

  “Isn't it?”

  Keith put an arm around her shoulder and led her up the front steps. He let go of her and unlocked the front door, letting her step in first. He flipped on a light, closing and locking the door behind them.

  Kayla blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the unexpected brightness.

  The entry was quite spacious and had a certain Colonial quality to it just as the exterior of the house did. The grand split staircase straight ahead snagged her attention first. The railing was some kind of smooth, polished dark wood supported by wrought iron. What looked to be a roll of red velvet carpet cascaded down the middle of the stairs, giving off a regal affectation from another era.

  Two bathrooms that were labeled as such and mentioned showers and lockers on their oak plaques served as sidekicks to the staircase, one on either side.

  A massive palm tree in an oversized ivory pot stood at attention by the wall to her left, whispering to her delicious suggestions of what lay beyond the double doors it rested near.

  A desk was built into the wall on the right, leading to an office. The arbor to the left of that displayed an open dining room and possibly a kitchen beyond that. She could only imagine how wonderful it looked.

  “That's the men's shower, bathroom, and locker room.” Keith pointed out. “And that's the women's. In there you have the dining room, kitchen, and a cinema room decorated like the 1950s.”

  She grinned. “You have a cinema here?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it's mainly so the two managers who live on site can watch movies if they like. That's why there's a kitchen, too, since this is basically their house.”

  “I thought you and your brothers owned the place.”

  “We do, but Travis is busy with the ranch, and Jake and I get busy with our jobs. We're only here when the club is open. The rest of the time we're living our lives.”

  She humored him with a nod, torn between interest in what he said and how sinfully appetizing he looked in those dark-wash jeans and navy blue T-shirt. The way it hugged his tight arms ought to be illegal.

  Keith became reflective for a moment as he spoke. “Besides, none of us wanted to live here, as much as we like the place.”

  “Why not?”

  His spaced expression resumed its natural ease. “It reminds us too much of our father.”

  “I can’t really remember him.”

  “I'm not surprised.” He shook his head, seeming mildly blue and deeply contemplative. “He left when I was fourteen. You would have been just a little kid at the time.”

  “I have a couple of vague memories of him, but I don't remember what he looked like. I remember he was grouchy.”

  Keith cocked a crooked smile she found endearing. “He was. Really sarcastic, too, but he could be funny sometimes in a dry, cynical kind of way.”

  “Why did he leave if you don't mind me asking?”

  He drew in a breath and sighed heavily. “I don't know. Our mom threw him out, but she never told us why. We asked her. She said it wasn't another woman or anything. They just weren't right for each other.” He shook his head. “I don't get it. They were fine for each other, but then all of a sudden our dad gets back from another mysterious trip and he's different.”

  Kayla tried to think of something to distract him from his disappointment. “That's nice of you guys to keep the ranch and all those horses.”

  “Thoroughbreds were his passion.” He frowned. “That's the other thing. When he got back from wherever he'd been, he lost interest in the ranch and horses. He was good to us, but not so much into the country thing anymore. Not sure why.”

  “That's weird. People can change, though.”

  Darkness crossed his face as he seemed to stare off into some cold, unforgiving place. “You've got that right.”

  She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, hoping to bring him back from whatever awful thoughts imprisoned his handsome face with worry. “Didn't you tell me he's the one who started this club?”

  Keith snapped free of the shadowy clutches gripping him and gave her his attention. “Yeah, he left the ranch to Travis and the club to Jake.”

  “What did he leave you and Miranda?”

  His face twisted with misery when she mentioned his sister's name. The look was so brief, Kayla wondered if she imagined it.

  “He left us some money, and me this ring.” He extended his fisted hand, showing her the silver dragon that clung to the ring circling his finger.

  “Oh, that's nice looking.”

  “Yeah, not too shabby. Would you like to see some more of the club?”

  She beamed at this, hoping she didn't sound too eager. “Please. What's upstairs?”

  “The private rooms and also the bedrooms Jason and Armand sleep in.”

  “Jason Adkins, the jerk that took Miranda's virginity and dumped her?”

  A familiar voice broke in, coming from the stairs. “The same one.”

  Kayla gasped, flushing with warm embarrassment when she saw Jason Adkins coming down the stairs. “I didn't necessarily mean that in a bad way.”

  He smirked, seeming amused with a potential trace of regret. “No hard feelings. We all make mistakes.”

  Was he referring to hers or his?

  He turned his attention to K
eith. “I thought I heard someone pull up. You here to show her a tour or the good stuff?”

  She blushed, and Keith grinned, tossing a perverted wink down at her. “We'll see what happens.”

  Jason smiled big, and Kayla tried to force herself to smile politely. Sure he was hotter than the earth's core with his rugged face, his chiseled muscles, and his bad-ass tattoos and piercings, but he was still the jerk who’d slept with Miranda Langley and then broken up with her. He’d run off to some prestigious college without any explanation as to his reasons for leaving. Miranda had been ripped to pieces over the whole thing.

  Jason's expression turned sour with a different emotion Kayla couldn't identify. “Any word from New Orleans?”

  Keith got that haunted look again and shook his head with downcast eyes and a softly murmured “No.”

  Jason glanced down, seeming tense and immensely distressed. “Armand went down there last week. He should be back this weekend. Nothing new to report.”

  Keith cleared his throat, and Kayla thought she saw him sideways nod with a slight jerk of his head in her direction.

  Jason shut his trap and put on a convincing smile. “Well, enjoy yourselves. Do you want me to lock up on your way out?”

  “I'll lock up.” Keith put an arm around Kayla and led her through the double doors as Jason headed back upstairs, presumably to bed.

  What the heck had that been about? What didn't Keith want her to know?

  The large room beyond the double doors took her breath away. It was huge with wine colored walls and a dance floor on one end of the room, complete with a stage, and a glittery jazz ball hanging from the ceiling.

  In the middle of the room against the wall was a C-shaped bar with dark, polished wood and black bar stools. The long, rectangular mirror on the back wall behind the bar made the already large room seem bigger still. Bottles of booze and fruity liqueurs gleamed enticingly on the shelves near the oversized mirror. The dim light made the bottled spirits glint with untold promises of sin if one would only taste and surrender.

  The bar overlooked a cozy lounge area with what looked to be trendy, comfy couches with plush pillows, and coffee tables with magazines.