“I know so little about the camp that it would be hard for me to say. Like Brighton says, I’m used to this now. But if you think it’s safer, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”
Lucas nodded. Brighton just looked at his plate and kept eating.
“I’d like this to be a unanimous decision,” Lucas said, looking at Brighton.
“What,” he said, barely looking up, “you need my consent?”
“No, but I’d like at least a consensus.”
Brighton shrugged. “I’m not much of one for roughing it, even though I know it comes with the territory from time-to-time. I’d rather not, but it was creepy around here at first.”
“Thank you, I think,” Lucas said.
Audra pushed away from the table. “Who wants fresh peach cobbler?”
“Whee-doggies!” Bill said, excitedly.
“And with real whipped cream,” Brighton said. “I saw her making it.”
“I think that more than makes up for taters,” Bill decided.
Just before she walked back into the kitchen, she caught Lucas looking at her. He almost smiled; she saw those dimples break through. And what was that she saw in his eyes? But before she could even react, the look was gone.
“Can I help you with dessert?” Lucas asked her.
“Why--sure,” she said, surprised.
“Hey,” Brighton said. “That’s my job.”
“You got to help with the corn,” Audra said.
She guessed maybe the old saying about the way to a man’s heart was right.
# # #
She spooned the whipped cream onto the mega-portions that Lucas had scooped up for the guys, feeling guilty for making them do without potatoes or biscuits. She had to remember, after all, that it was large men she was feeding, not teen-aged girls nor her diminutive grandmother. Luckily, she had fried up two whole chickens, so there was plenty of meat.
She turned toward the spice cupboard to reach for the nutmeg and felt Lucas behind her. He put his hand on her bottom then on her side and leaned close. She turned toward him, and he leaned in for a kiss when there was a loud thump on the door. He turned away in a flash, and the door swung open.
“Just thought we’d help clear the table,” Bill said, as he and Brighton burst through carrying stacks of dishes.
“Oh, thank you!” she said genuinely—though her heart raced at the missed opportunity.
Bill looked down at the table. “Is that dessert?” he said, his eyes like saucers.
“Yes, it is. Now, if you’ll all shoo out of here and sit down, I’ll bring it right out. Just let me put on some coffee.”
The two bustled back out the door, and Lucas leaned back against the end of the table, his legs crossed, and his eyes cast to the floor. He pulled her to his side, looking up at her.
“Audra,” he whispered. “Sometimes being around you overwhelms me, and I don’t know what to do with myself. But I have to stay focused to keep you safe.”
She nodded.
She went to the counter to make coffee, and she felt him beside her again, but this time, he didn’t touch her.
“Our lives are far more intertwined than you know and keeping you safe has become far more than my job.”
A questioning look shadowed her face, but he shook his head. “Not now.”
They could hear Bill and Brighton engaged in conversation outside the door.
He bent to kiss her, but instead, he pulled her to his chest and kissed her head. “I want to explore you, who you are, what makes you tick.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “I think you know about all there is to know.”
“No,” he said. “All I know are circumstances. And,” he said grabbing her hair and the back of her head, “I don’t know nearly enough about this.” He kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth as he would her body.
He pulled himself away from her, and she turned to flick the switch on the coffee pot.
“Shall we?” she said, indicating the door.
He carried a tray full of peach cobbler while she brought the coffee cups.
7
She felt restless that night. Brighton tried to interest her in a game or a movie, but she wasn’t interested. The encounter with Lucas in the kitchen had her atwitter again.
She spent the evening in her darkened room, reading from her Kindle. When she knew it was close to the time when Lucas would come in to check the windows, she turned it off and got under the covers so she could pretend she was asleep.
He came in and rattled the window handles, ensuring they were secured. She listened, waiting for the door to click shut again when she sensed him nearby. She peered through the darkness and could see his outline standing over her.
He stood there for several minutes. She had thought before that it was just her imagination the way she felt when she was close to him in the dark, but this gave her time to test her own senses.
She felt power that was bottled up and barely under control in him, which she knew on any other night would cause the same reaction in her. She lay perfectly still, partly holding her breath because she knew if she stirred it would enflame them both.
It was strange. She had read about enough preternatural beings to know about these things, but she had never considered that men could experience it, too. She wondered about all that had gone in to creating that deep, perilous core that caused him to seethe with anger, lust, and denied passion. Yet, through it all, she sensed a tendril of compassion, of longing, and of wanting to touch and be touched.
Thankfully, he turned and left the room before she could respond. A great agitation came over her when the room was empty of his presence. She felt her erect nipples and the ache between her thighs. Tonight, she would soothe herself the only way she could.
# # #
Whether it was minutes or hours later, Audra couldn’t tell, but she awoke to a form over her bed again.
“Lucas?” she said, tentatively.
The form sat down on the bed beside her.
“Now why would you think it was Lucas?” he said, slipping his hand over her gown and cupping her breast.
She grabbed the covers around her. “Brighton?”
“That’s better,” he said. “You know, you can call me Lon.”
His hand slipped beneath her gown now, and he felt her wet panties. She bit her lip, knowing he would think he had made her wet.
“You see,” he said, “I can do things these other two would never even think of.”
He pressed into her sex through her panties, and she couldn’t help but moan because she was still sensitive from her earlier activities.
“Brighton,” she said, “Lon, don’t.”
“Why?” he said. “You know you want it. You would never be able to get enough of me. Believe me, if you were no more excited about your boyfriend than what you told me, it was just because he didn’t fuck you right.”
He leaned in, lifting her gown and putting his head between her legs.
She sat up and scooted back, but he caught her ankle.
“Have you ever had anybody lick you?” he asked. “Eat you?”
She wanted to kick him. Had her flirting gone too far?
“C’mon. Just let me lick your pussy. If you want, that’s all we’ll do this time. But when you see how that makes you feel, you’ll definitely want more.”
She reversed herself and came closer to him, drawing up her knees.
“That’s right, baby. Come to Daddy,” he said.
As hard as she could, she let go and kicked him in the chest, propelling him off of the bed. He caught himself before he hit the floor.
“Oh,” he said, “that’s what I like—a little scrap in my girls.”
He put a knee on the bed, and she turned on the lamp on the bed stand.
She sat there, the covers drawn up over her chest. One sound from her—and Lucas and Bill would be here. But she didn’t want to make trouble for Brighton. She thought maybe she had g
iven him mixed signals. She never dreamed he would act on them.
“Brighton,” she said, “Lon…I…I’m not ready for this.”
“What? Sure you are, baby. Turn off that light. It won’t take five minutes to get you off. Then, that’ll give you something to think about for a while.”
“No, Lon, seriously….”
“Yes, baby, seriously…,” he reached and turned out the lamp. “Just relax. I just want to make you feel good.”
They both froze as they heard someone in the hall. The footsteps passed her room without hesitation and went down the steps.
“Okay, baby. Maybe not tonight, but soon,” he said.
He got up and slipped out of her room. Shortly, she heard voices coming up from downstairs. The voices weren’t harsh, so she assumed that no one had noticed and that he wasn’t in trouble.
She lay there, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Was she so stupid that she really hadn’t expected him to react that way? She was going to have to be more careful what she said, and how she allowed him to touch her. Up to now it had only been innocent touching, just an affectionate pat, a touch on the shoulder, or an index finger to her chest when he was making a point.
He certainly didn’t make her heart skip like Lucas did, but maybe he wasn’t as dangerous. Would it be fun to play around with him? It would be nice to have somebody besides herself to help her climax, but then what would he expect in return? It might be a long time to keep somebody at bay in this proximity.
And what if they got caught? There was nothing they could do to her, but they would surely send him away, and he could even lose his job. But wouldn’t that be his own fault? No, if she allowed it, it would be just as much hers. Better not play with fire.
# # #
The next few days were strange. He acted as though nothing had happened. She had expected him to act conspiratorial or to come on to her. Maybe he had come closer to getting caught than she knew, so he had backed off. She was relieved.
Just before she turned in one night, though, Lucas was outside, and Bill was sitting in the chair next to her room talking to her as she stood in the hall. Brighton was walking into the game room, so he knew Bill couldn’t see him. He turned toward her, grabbed his crotch, grinned and stuck his tongue out as far as he could, waggling it. Then, he laughed and shut the game room door behind him.
It made shivers run up her back. Although she was momentarily aroused, it mostly creeped her out. He was so vulgar. She hadn’t been around guys like him since high school; but, maybe some men never grew up.
She finished her conversation with Bill and then walked into her room. As she showered before bed, she thought about the layout of the house and was glad that Brighton’s room was at the opposite end and the other side from her. She didn’t know what difference it made, but she hoped that the floors squeaked sufficiently that he couldn’t just sneak into her room, even though he had the first time.
She still hadn’t figure out how that had happened. One of them had to be sleeping and the other somewhere else in the house, but how had he been assured that no one would catch him or that he could get back out?
As she was showering, she heard a couple of thumps from the other side of the wall, and realized that it would be Lucas’s bathroom and that he must be in it. She flushed with excitement, just thinking about him, maybe standing naked, toweling off. She wondered if he knew she was there and how that knowledge would made him feel.
Hands down, Brighton was a rube compared to Lucas. However, Brighton was bolder and unafraid to say what he thought. She knew that Lucas told her how he felt, too, from time-to-time, but Brighton seemed accessible, while Lucas did not.
She also knew that if all things were equal, she wouldn’t look twice at Brighton. She chastened herself. Why was she always thinking such wild things? Could she just admit that Lucas had kindled a fire that couldn’t be put out, making her feel desperate? That was the real truth, wasn’t it? And that the only reason she thought about Brighton at all was that she figured she could never have Lucas.
It wasn’t like she had been fantasizing about Brighton before he came to her room. She’d had a few since then, but it was mostly just thinking about him touching her sex, which was enough for her to get off.
Her fantasies about Lucas were of an entirely different stripe. They were so reckless and unbridled, just as their first meeting had been.
She almost laughed now when she thought of John. It was unfair, she knew. They had just been kids when they first started having sex, and it had never progressed much beyond that. Neither of them had seemed to have much sexual curiosity. However, it was completely different thinking how sex would be with Lucas.
# # #
The next day while she and Brighton were playing cards and talking, he surprised her by asking her how she felt about Lucas.
“What do you mean, how do I feel about him?”
“You know, anything.”
She knew he was fishing, and she wasn’t about to give him anything.
“I think he’s good at what he does,” she said. “He seems very focused.”
“More like obsessed,” Brighton said.
“Obsessed? Well, aren’t you big law enforcement guys always obsessed with getting the bad guy or whatever you’re doing?”
“Not like him. He scares me sometimes.”
She couldn’t imagine Brighton scared of Lucas. “Scares you how?”
“Did you know he had been on medical leave just before this job?”
“Huh-uh. Was he injured or something?”
“Or something. He got so wrapped around the axle about this guy he was hunting down that they put him on leave and made him see a shrink.”
She raised her eyebrows at that.
“That’s why he’s on this detail. They figure he can’t get too riled up on guard duty.”
“Really,” she said. “Whose turn is it to shuffle?” she asked.
“I’m sure it’s yours.”
“You’re always sure it’s mine. I’m pretty sure you went first last time which means it’s your turn to shuffle.” She handed him the cards. “So who was he chasing?”
“Some kingpin from the San Martes cartel.”
She froze in her seat at the mention of the cartel. “Who?” she asked, bluntly.
“El Tiro…El Tio…I dunno, something that means the White Bull.”
All the color drained from her face. “El Toro Blanco.”
“That’s the one.”
She suddenly felt hot and sick. “So Lucas is obsessed with El Toro Blanco?”
“Yeah. Apparently Blanco killed his kid or something.”
“What?” she said, rising from her seat.
“Why does it matter to you?” he asked.
“El Toro Blanco,” she said, “is the one who has the contract out on me.”
“You don’t say. Hmm…that seems odd. I wonder if he requested this duty? I thought they were keeping him as far from Blanco as possible.”
He started to deal the cards.
“I--I don’t feel very good right now,” she said. “I think I need to go lie down.”
He didn’t look up from the cards.
8
Back in her room, she paced the floor. What did it all mean? She tried to untangle it all. Was the news good or bad? Why am I so shocked? She guessed it was because of the way Brighton unfolded it—telling her of Lucas’s psychiatric treatment, then the child who was killed, and then Blanco’s name.
Good god. Lucas had a son who was killed by the cartel! She didn’t even know he was married, but then that wasn’t so strange. It’s not like they sat and talked about their lives like she and Brighton did.
There couldn’t help but be a connection between the fact that his son was killed by the same man who wanted her dead. Had he asked for this assignment?
She tried to calm herself by thinking that he just wanted to protect her from the monster from whom he had been unable to protect h
is son. But what is the truth? And on medical leave for psychiatric treatment? Did that mean he is crazy or at least unstable?
Surely the Service wouldn’t have let him back in if he was still having problems, but how could something like that be cured? She thought she had such grief, but surely his was no less. His child, for god’s sake!
She wanted to go right now and talk to him about it, but she knew she couldn’t. He would probably be upset that Brighton had told her, and even then, what would she ask him?
Our lives are far more intertwined than you know, and keeping you safe has become far more than my job, she remembered him saying that night in the kitchen. She had wanted to know then, but he had declined to say anything more.
Here she was fantasizing that it was because he was in love with her. His actions that night weren’t of a grief-stricken father. He had come to her as a lover.
She was confused, but she knew the confusion was due to the clandestine nature of the relationship. Relationship? Can we even call it that? The majority of it seemed to be in their heads. Am I projecting more than is actually there?
She slumped down onto the side of the bed, closing her eyes. Her mind was her worst enemy most of the time. She was actually afraid she was slipping into some kind of psychosis. She knew that one didn’t just “get over” PTSD without help. She wondered if that was what Lucas was suffering from, as well.
The psychologist she had seen while she was in the hospital was clueless. He had given her some advice like, “Eat right, get enough exercise, meditate, breathe….” She knew that was great advice, and she thought it would be good practice along with other therapy, but she felt like the psychologist completely underestimated her PTSD. Either that, or he didn’t realize that it was something that could actually increase over time without intervention.
For her, there wasn’t any intervention in sight. Who knew how long it would take to find the man and bring him to trial? Then, it would only be after she got into the WITSEC program that she could settle enough to get help. For now, she just had to trust that she would be protected—from herself as much as from her would-be killers.
BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books Page 48