Uncensored Passion (Men of Passion)

by Bobbi Cole Meyer

  He hugged her close.

  “Damn, woman, I adore you.”

  “Back at you, big guy,” she said affectionately. Relaxed into a pleasant state of sexual lethargy, she snuggled against Lee’s broad shoulder, and as sleep tugged at her, the aggravating day faded. All petty worries had dissipated. All that remained was the pleasant afterglow of fantastic sex and the peaceful knowledge that she was one satisfied woman.

  CHAPTER 4

  Luke

  Luke helped Kayla into her bath. The scented oils hung fragrant in the sumptuous bathroom. Luke gently washed Kayla’s back as she leaned forward with a contented sigh to give him complete access. As she exhaled, she breathed the compliment, “You have a magic touch. Think I might start calling you slow hand Luke.”

  Kayla tilted her head back and Luke kissed her. When their lips parted, he teased, “I like everything done slow and with expertise, my sweet.”

  “Don’t I know it. And you are so damned good at everything,” Kayla teased back.

  * * *

  Thirty-three-year-old Lucas Wendell Cartwright (Luke), Kayla’s choice for her third “husband,” had moved to Nashville from Mississippi with high expectations of becoming a songwriter or entertainer. He had taught himself to play the piano and guitar at a young age, and by the time he was in his teens, had mastered both.

  Though he was boyishly good looking and had an infectious personality with a sparkling, white-toothed grin, after six struggling years that bordered sometimes on starvation, he had not made his mark in the music business to the degree he had envisioned. He had only recently had several of his songs accepted by a well-known publisher/producer who assured him he could get him some cuts. Word was finally getting out to those in the know in Nashville that he was one of the best guitar pickers around, which was opening the door to play for various entertainers’ recordings.

  To keep himself available for those calls, Luke had taken a temporary job in a bookstore, where the owner, a real music lover with empathy for struggling artists, was aware and agreeable that he might have to take time off occasionally when he was called to fill in on studio gigs.

  But before that fortuitous happening, Luke had become completely dejected and was seriously considering returning to Mississippi the day he met Lee and Harm.

  Nearly a permanent fixture at the local bookstore where he would later work, Luke was an avid reader with secret aspirations not only to conquer the music world, but one day become an author himself.

  The day they met, Luke was so engrossed in his selection that he literally ran into Lee, which was—as he would laughingly recall later—like running into a brick wall.

  It was a meeting that not only changed his mind about leaving Nashville, but changed his life forever.

  Six feet tall and wiry, Luke was pleasantly muscled, keeping his body in shape with strenuous runs and exercise. He wore his lustrous brown hair long enough to secure it in a ponytail. His eyes were as unique as Kayla’s in a different way, but just as compelling. They were an unusually opaque gray and, once focused on you, seemed to hold you spellbound with their animal-like, hypnotic intensity. And when in the throes of orgasmic climax, they fascinated Kayla by the way they took on a steely, cutting-edge hue.

  Luke was a nonconformist and free spirit, traits Lee and Harm had felt drawn to the day they met him in the bookstore after introducing themselves and carrying on a prolonged conversation.

  Knowing Kayla’s penchant for good books, Lee and Harm had gone there in search of a particular volume she had expressed a desire to read. They intended to present it to her on her forthcoming thirty-fifth birthday as an added surprise to go along with the cake and their personal written pledges of whole-body massages, complete with whatever submissively sensual pleasuring was her choice from each of them for another year.

  The conversation among the men had progressed, and over the next few weeks, either Harm or Lee had continued to visit the bookstore. Soon the three men struck up a friendship. Finally, satisfied as to their similar philosophies and personal preferences, they invited Luke back to their home for a meeting with Kayla.

  That meeting went just as they thought it might, with Luke’s reaction to the proposition placed before him almost predictably enthusiastic.

  He and Kayla hit it off immediately. It was obvious that not only were they compatible, but sparks seemed to fly between them.

  When Kayla asked if he would like to become her next partner, Luke’s answer was a resounding kiss, followed by a laugh and a promise to immortalize the moment in song. He never left.

  * * *

  As Kayla dropped her bathrobe languidly, Luke’s grey eyes heated up.

  God, she’s beautiful. Toned, tanned, and sexy as hell.

  For a moment, Luke’s mind went blank as a surge of lust went through him. With an effort, he reigned in his raging hormones and picked up his guitar.

  “The song I’ve written about you, Kayla, is called, appropriately, ‘She Knows How To Ride.’ Don’t think it would be commercially acceptable, but then again, it’s subtle. Not exactly as explicit as what I would say if it was just you and me talking, so maybe it could be commercial. Anyway, it sure says what this horny guy feels.”

  Then, with closed eyes, he began to sing.

  Nothing turns her on like turning me on

  And the lady knows just how to do it.

  Love made just right from dusk to dawn

  Like she was naturally born to it

  She knows how to ride

  Queen of my midnight rodeo

  Got my heart roped and tied

  Lord, I love my cowgirl so

  ‘Cause she knows how to ride

  Don’t know what I’d do if she left me

  This cowboy’s got it real bad

  Like in that movie, she completes me

  Best damned lovemaking I ever had

  Oh, she knows how to ride

  Queen of my midnight rodeo

  Got my heart roped and tied

  Lord, I love my cowgirl so

  ‘Cause she knows how to ride

  Um hum, does she ever know how to ride

  “So what do you think?” He asked with a grin as the last chords faded.

  “I love it,” Kayla said, clapping her hands as she lay back on the bed, naked and waiting. “And I love you. Come here, lover, and let’s ride.”

  He placed the guitar against the wall, shed his own clothes, and lay down beside her. “I meant every word, Kayla. Dammit woman, I am so gone on you.”

  He kissed her, beginning at her eyes and working his way down to her mouth and her neck, then shoulders and stomach, while he gave his hands free rein to roam down her body.

  His right hand lingered to seek and caress that most sensual spot, while his left played with her breast.

  “Luke, you are just what I need tonight,” she whispered with a satisfied exhale of breath.

  “You’re what I need every night, Kayla,” he declared as he rolled on top of her and parted her legs, entering with a forceful thrust that locked them tightly together.

  He began stroking, emitting grunts of pleasure, echoed by Kayla’s whispered, “Yes, yes.”

  Suddenly, laughing, Kayla rolled them both sideways to reposition herself on top, in the dominant way she knew he liked, and frankly, she often preferred herself. She began riding him fiercely, her head back, her lips parted, her tongue licking her lips as she lifted and slammed down on him.

  Luke’s hands tightened on her hips as he lifted to meet each demanding, grinding downward thrust she made.

  Tossing her hair, Kayla laughed as she cried out an emphatic, “Yippee!”

  “Ride me, baby, ride me!” Luke urged as he bucked beneath her.

  And she did.

  CHAPTER 5

  J.J.

  Nineteen-year-old J.J. Romero, Kayla’s fourth “husband,” had relocated from San Antonio, Texas, to Nashville, originally to attend Vanderbilt University before he decided that that pa
rticular phase of academia wasn’t for him. He summarily dropped out.

  His decision alienated his influential and socially conscious parents, and they cut off his financial support. So J.J. found himself taking odd jobs until he could decide what he really wanted to do with his life. One odd job was as a pool boy for a small company, so he didn’t think twice about answering the ad in the local paper looking for a pool boy for a private residence. He had no inkling that this twist of fate was destined to mark the beginning of his unique and socially taboo life within Kayla Saradon’s household.

  J.J.’s shy personality was obvious to Kayla when she first locked eyes with him across the pool area as she listened to Luke instructing him what his duties would be as pool boy.

  As he continued to stare at Kayla, J.J. was only half listening. He was mesmerized by the look she was giving him—a look he’d seen in a lot of girls’ eyes, but this was the first time he had seen it emanating from a mature, gorgeous woman like Kayla Saradon.

  He swallowed hard as he tore his attention away from her and focused on Luke. He answered the lanky, dark-haired man’s questions pertaining to the job, about the daily cleaning of the pool, using the chemicals properly, storing the equipment, and so on.

  Then he stood watching as Luke walked over to confer with Kayla. She flashed him a brilliant smile as she nodded at whatever Luke was quietly saying to her. Then she whispered something in his ear before he stood and came back over to J.J.

  “How old did you say you are?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “How long have you been in Nashville?”

  “A few months.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I don’t have a permanent place right now. I’m crashing at the Y. Guess I’ll stay there until I can get enough work to get a place.”

  Luke glanced back at Kayla and J.J. caught the almost imperceptible nod she gave.

  “You could stay in the pool house if you like,” Luke said.

  “Really? Would that rent be taken out of my pay?”

  Luke smiled. “This job doesn’t pay enough to do that. No. Rent is included. We’ll give it a go and see if you like it here, see if you want to stay. By the way, since you’re fairly new in town, made any connections? Girlfriend, maybe?”

  “No girlfriend.”

  J.J. frowned as he glanced around at the other two men lounging by the pool, his gaze involuntarily going back to Kayla who was studying him.

  “Ah, mind if I ask a question?” J.J. asked.

  “No, of course not. Shoot.”

  “Are you all related somehow?”

  Luke laughed. “You could say that. We consider ourselves family.”

  “Are you her husband?”

  Luke cast a quick glance at Kayla and she nodded again. Confused about the situation, J.J. was aware Kayla had silently given her consent to what Luke was about to say as the man draped an arm about his shoulders and walked him to a lounge chair, motioning that he should sit.

  “In answer to your question, yes and no.”

  “Huh? You lost me, man.”

  “Tell me, J.J., if you don’t have a girlfriend, are there any permanent commitments in your life at the moment? Like is some girl waiting for you to return to San Antonio?”

  “No. No one. Why?”

  “What is your philosophy about marriage?”

  J.J. shrugged. “I think a piece of paper and some priest saying words don’t make a marriage, and it sure as hell doesn’t make it work.”

  “That sounds kind of cynical for a young man like you. How did you reach that conclusion?”

  “My parents have been married most of their lives and both are miserable. They’ve stayed together because it’s expected of them, because they’re Catholic and don’t believe in divorce, and because it would put a crimp in their social status,” he sneered. “So I guess I kinda believe marriage is a crock, not for me.”

  “So, do you think love is a crock, too?”

  “Don’t know if I even believe in love. I’d like to think it's real, but from what I’ve seen over the years, I doubt it.”

  “Well, tell me, J.J., have you gotten so cynical that you aren’t open to the possibility there can be variations of love?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean that love can be cultivated if it’s a shared emotion. It all begins with feelings, of course, and escalates from there. Do you believe that?”

  “Sure, I guess. The feelings come first.”

  “Right. That physical attraction has to be there. For instance, I saw the way you looked at Kayla. You find her attractive, don’t you?”

  “Sure. She’s beautiful, but I wasn’t flirting or anything,” J.J. added hurriedly.

  “Relax. It would be all right if you were, J.J.”

  “It would?”

  “Have you ever heard of polyandry?” Luke continued.

  “No. What is it?”

  J.J. listened to Luke’s explanation, his eyes widening as they automatically went to Kayla who was watching them intently through slightly shuttered eyes. He felt a quickening in his groin at the thought of being with her, while his mind struggled to grasp what Luke was saying about a woman having more than one mate, or “husband” though it wouldn’t be legally binding.

  “So, let me get this straight. You guys, all of you, are married to her?”

  “Yes, we’re all committed to Kayla and she to us. Like I said, we’re family. A unique family, but family nonetheless, devoted to each other and to her.”

  “Wow. This is a new one on me.”

  “Would you like to be one of us?”

  J.J. was astounded. “What? You mean, be—ah—married to Kayla?”

  “In the sense of complete commitment, yes. Of course, it would be binding only within the confines of our private world, and there are processes we need to go through before we can make this happen. You understand?”

  “Yeah. But it would be basically up to her, wouldn’t it?”

  “Kayla has already consented to accept you as one of us, barring no problems encountered in the processes.”

  “She has? But I haven’t even spoken to her.”

  “There has been silent communication between Kayla and me, so I know she’s interested, but before anyone is fully accepted, there are certain requirements to be met and agreed to without question.”

  “Such as?”

  “A complete medical examination and blood test to be sure there are no medical problems. Once that is obtained, there’s a verbal agreement between you and Kayla, followed by a night of, shall we say, confirmation to determine if you are sexually compatible, before you sign a written nondisclosure document. That is witnessed by all of us, and then there’s a ceremony, much the same as other marriage ceremonies, only the vows of acceptance are repeated by all of us, since we all share in love together. Then Harm tattoos the ring on your finger. But don’t worry about infection or your finger falling off,” he quipped. “Harm used to be a tattoo artist so he knows what he’s doing.

  “And it’s a permanent commitment, J.J., not a fly-by-night kind of game, so give it enough thought to be certain it’s what you really want. The commitment can be broken only by mutual agreement between you and Kayla, should an impassable problem arise. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “So, knowing all that, would you be agreeable?”

  “Absolutely! I mean, hell, yeah.”

  Listening, Kayla smiled at his eagerness.

  The other men laughed, and then Harm joined in the conversation. “Believe me, you won’t ever be sorry, and you won’t ever want to walk away. Kayla is one in a million. And you’ll still be free to pursue whatever career you choose, as long as you don’t neglect your marital duties, and that shouldn’t be a problem for a young stud like you.”

  “There is one thing that I wonder about, though.” J.J. hesitated, his eyes fixed on Kayla’s almost exposed breasts, the sight of which caused his
cock to twitch.

  “What’s that?” Harm asked.

  “Doesn’t anyone ever get possessive or jealous?”

  Lee, who had been quietly listening, answered that question. “No. That’s another thing to consider, J.J. If it’s your nature to be possessive, this will never work. We all share Kayla, taking turns as she sees fit. To pleasure her and ourselves. And before you ask—yes, occasionally there is a ménage a trois, but only by those of us wishing to participate. No one is ever asked to do anything they don’t wish to do. In other words, it’s a wonderful lifestyle, J.J., if you’re up to it. We each have our own apartment within the mansion, just as you will have in the pool house, of course, but we all have the run of the rest of the house.”

  Then J.J. left the men. He went over to sit on the lounge chair beside Kayla, lifted and kissed her hand, his dark eyes burning into hers as he asked, “Why me?”

  “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re gorgeous, and I’ll bet my bottom dollar you’re hung like a stallion. Right?”

  J.J., blushing, croaked out, “Never had a complaint, Miss Saradon.”

  Kayla struggled not to laugh as she said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s so refreshing to find a guy who actually still blushes. Now if you tell me you’re a virgin, I might believe it. And please call me Kayla.”

  “I’m not a virgin, Kayla.”

  “I didn’t think so. A guy who looks as good as you do is bound to have had girls hanging all over him since puberty. Tell me about your family, J.J. Where are they? Would your coming into our home present a problem for them and therefore a problem for me down the line? You do look young, certainly younger than the rest of us. But to me, age is only a number, not a definitive deciding factor.”

  She placed a hand on his groin, and the way he reacted—his immediate hard-on and an intake of breath—made her pussy flutter in response. “Just as I thought. You’re quite a stud.”

  “Damned glad to hear how you feel about age, because I feel the same way. About it’s being just a number, I mean. I’m nineteen, but I’ll be twenty in a couple of months. My mom and dad live in San Antonio, Texas. No brothers or sisters, which is a rarity among Catholics. Seems my mom couldn’t have any more kids after me, so they hung all their dreams on my shoulders, but what they wanted for me wasn’t what I ever wanted.