by Liliana Hart
“Right. That’s one of her favorites. Thanks for the warning, though I’d have preferred the brownies.”
“Good-bye, Beckett,” she said, but there was a smile on her face now and he felt lighter of heart.
He saluted and headed toward the sheriff’s office to where he’d parked his truck. But he turned around before she could go inside.
“Oh, and Marnie,” he said, “I’m going to keep asking. I just wanted to warn you first.”
“As long as you don’t mind that I’ll keep saying no.”
“I don’t mind at all.” He winked and walked away, deciding there were some women put on earth that were meant to make men do foolish things.
Chapter Ten
Instead of heading back to his truck and toward home where work was waiting for him, Beckett decided there was no time like the present for foolishness. He veered from his truck back across the street toward the bakery. The pleasure of stepping inside and inhaling fresh baked bread and pastries was short lived when he saw Denny Trout in line.
Denny was Hazel’s older brother and he was the foreman for the Caldwell’s over at the Circle C Ranch. Circle C had fallen on rough times the last decade or so, and a lot of people said that it was because of Denny. He spent more time gambling than he did doing his job. People also said the reason he hadn’t been let go was because he spent more time doing Isobel Caldwell than he did gambling. There were at least fifteen years between Denny and Isobel, but the affair had been going on since before Denny had become foreman.
Isobel’s husband, George, didn’t seem to mind the affair as he much preferred to warm their housekeeper’s bed instead of his own wife’s. Granted, the Caldwell housekeeper was something to look at, though George didn’t let her get out much. George was a jealous sort and he’d once bashed in Jed Blanchard’s windshield with a tire iron for wolf whistling at her while she was shopping at the mercantile.
Beckett would’ve put money down that the girl wasn’t legal drinking age, and if she was she wasn’t far past it. George was somewhere in his mid-fifties, but Beckett’s mama had always said George had a taste for the young ones.
Maybe if both the Caldwells had been more interested in breeding and selling their cattle at top dollar instead of jumping in and out of other people’s beds, they wouldn’t be selling off a chunk of land to pay off all their debts. As it was, Beckett had already made arrangements to purchase the land at a fair price since it bordered the far side of his property.
“Well, look who it is,” Denny said loud enough to get everyone’s attention. The noise from those sitting and enjoying afternoon cups of coffee and sweets died down to nothing.
“Denny,” Beckett acknowledged and then got in the back of the line. The smart thing to do would’ve been to turn around and leave. But his male pride wasn’t going to back down from a worthless son of a bitch like Denny.
Denny turned in a slow circle to make sure he had a captive audience. He had a shit-eating grin on his face and Beckett knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“Better watch out, ladies,” Denny called out. “Lover boy here likes to stick that famous prick into whatever walks by and leave you high and dry when he plants a bastard in you. Better cross your legs.”
There were a few snickers, but Beckett stayed silent and kept his gaze straight ahead.
“Saw you walk over from the new place next to the sheriff’s office,” Denny said. “By the way you were hanging all over that woman, I say you’ve moved on pretty quickly from my sister.”
“Your sister and I were never something I had to move on from. It was what it was. Nothing more.”
“You calling my sister a liar?” Denny said, stepping out of line. “She said you promised her all kinds of things. Marriage and that big fancy house you live in. High and mighty Hamilton’s on the hill.”
“If she told you all that then yes, I’m calling her a liar.”
Denny charged at him and Beckett was braced for it, but a sharp voice from behind the counter stopped him in his tracks.
“Denny Trout, don’t you lay one finger on him in my shop,” Mrs. Baker said. “Do you understand me? I’ll call the sheriff right now if I have to.”
Denny froze, his mouth in a snarl and his breath heaving in and out. He resembled a charging bull. He stared Beckett down for a few seconds and then got back in line and placed his order without saying another word. And then he started talking again, though this time he kept his gaze straight ahead while Mrs. Baker put his order together.
“I thought I recognized the woman you were talking to. She sure filled out since last time I saw her in high school. She used to creep me out with those big eyes and the spooky way she used to know things. People say she’s cursed. I say she’s one of those phonies on the TV looking for a quick buck.”
Beckett didn’t answer, but Denny sure had everyone’s attention. Anyone who cared to would know about Marnie’s psychic abilities. It didn’t matter if what Denny said was false—he was giving them more gossip to chew on and expand to their liking.
“She hasn’t been here but a couple of weeks,” Denny continued. “I bet she’s already spreading those long legs for you. Word has it that her daddy got her all nice and used up first so she could get out in the world and earn her keep. How much you paying her? I didn’t realize y’all let trash into Hamilton House.”
A red haze of anger flushed through Beckett’s body, and his hands fisted down at his side. Denny chuckled and paid for his things, grabbed the bakery bag, and then walked by Beckett with a smug smile.
“Let me know when you decide to throw away the trash. I’ve always heard girls like that are a good ride.”
Beckett’s hand reached up and grabbed Denny by the collar, and he lifted him clear off the ground, even though Denny had him in height by a couple inches.
“You’re going to want to steer clear of me, Denny. And you’re especially going to want to steer clear of Marnie. She’d tear you up and spit you out. I’m going to tell you this one time, and let that be your warning. I won’t fight you over Hazel. She’s not worth it, and despite the lies she’s told she was never anything more than a few rolls in the hay. And that’s been months ago at that. She’s lying about being pregnant and it’s your family who’ll have to deal with the shame of those lies.
“But Marnie is someone I’ll fight for. I’d better never hear another word about her ever come out of your mouth. I don’t want to hear that you started rumors about her father, her, or anyone else. Because I can promise you that Isobel Caldwell is going to get pretty bored with you without those balls you’re so proud of.”
Denny’s face was turning red, a combination of lack of oxygen and anger, and his hands were gripped around Beckett’s wrist. Mrs. Baker was quiet behind the counter, her eyes wide, and every other eye on the place was on them.
“Get out of my face,” Beckett said, and dropped him to the ground. “I’ve already wasted enough time on you today.”
Denny straightened his shirt and glared at Beckett on his way out the door. “Better watch your back, Hamilton. This is far from over.” He slammed the door behind him, the little bell ringing wildly, and the entire room seemed to collectively breathe again.
Chapter Eleven
Cooper MacKenzie was a patient man.
He had to be in his line of work. He’d been a cop for a lot of years and dealt with a multitude of situations—ranging from the absurd to unspeakable tragedies. But he could say for certain he’d never been in a position quite like the one he was in now.
He and his wife, Claire, had gotten into the habit of eating their lunch together each day, a simple enough task since she worked just down the street at the library. They’d grab something at the diner and then head back to their jobs for the rest of the day. It was a comfortable routine and one he enjoyed.
So he was surprised to get a text message from Claire saying she was making lunch for them at home today and to let her know when he was on the way. His f
irst thought was to tell her to go ahead without him. It was almost a twenty-minute drive to their house from downtown, and by the time he got there they’d hardly have any time for lunch.
He’d been texting just that when he changed his mind. She’d gone to the trouble to make lunch for both of them and he didn’t want to let her down. He told Deputy Greyson he was taking some extra time for lunch but that he’d be on call if he was needed.
“No worries, Sheriff. Danny and I are both on duty and Brooks comes on for the night shift. We’re covered.”
“And if all else fails you’ve got Lila to back you up,” Cooper said with a grin.
“No offense, but if we need backup I’ll just call my wife.”
“Probably the wiser choice.”
Cooper tipped his hat and grabbed the keys to his Tahoe. By the time he took the fork in the road that led to MacKenzie land, he’d already gotten two phone calls and a dozen texts about what had happened between Denny and Beckett at the bakery.
Cooper had always been amazed at Beckett’s self-control. The MacKenzies liked to fight. It had been a rite of passage in their household. Something brothers did to show their affection. And also a way for them to band together if someone tried to pick on one of them.
Beckett had been closer to Cooper’s younger brothers and cousins, but he’d always had a cool head about him. Something the MacKenzies needed from time to time. If it had been anyone but Beckett, Denny Trout would’ve ended up in the hospital after some of the things he’d said.
Cooper looked at the clock on the dashboard and winced. Time was of the essence. He had a stack of reports to be signed on his desk and he needed to write an article for the newsletter the city sent out every month. With winter coming it was a good idea to do something on safety and supplies to carry in the car if stuck in a winter storm.
He ran through a checklist in his head and waved at the guards as they opened the gates and let him through.
He and Claire had built a home on MacKenzie land after their first year of marriage. It had a long, gravel driveway and was nestled between trees that had already lost their leaves.
It was a modest-sized white house with a wide wraparound porch. Ferns hung from hooks and rocking chairs graced both the front and back porch. The back looked out over the lake and the mountains, and he thought it’d be nice to have their lunch out there, though the temperature had dropped and it might be too cold.
His mind was occupied with thoughts of calling Beckett to see what happened and his rumbling stomach, so he was completely unprepared to open the front door of his home and see his wife standing there. In hardly anything.
His cock went rock hard in an instant. She always had that effect on him, and between work and their small children, intimacy wasn’t always so easy to come by. Thank God she was a devious woman.
He and Claire had always liked to play. They’d met while he was working undercover for the DEA at a BDSM club, and they’d asked Cooper to take that particular job because it was well known that he enjoyed his sex a little…different. He fit in that world as smoothly as he did the real world. It was all part of the job, and he was one of those people who looked for the adrenaline rush wherever he was.
He’d been focused on the job and the cartel leader that had been making himself too much at home in their territory and slipping large quantities of a new drug from Colombia through the United States and into Canada. Business had been good for Rafael Morda.
And during the chaos of the wild pump of bass through the club, the gyrating half-naked bodies, and Morda positioned like a king on his throne, in walked Claire. All the available submissives in the club practically ran to get her attention, and half the Doms did too. She exuded confidence and power, and they were drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was his equal in every way, and he’d been more surprised than anyone to find out what a small-town librarian wore beneath her clothes.
His wife had hidden secrets and he adored every one of them. He took off his gun belt at the door and laid it on the entry table. Then he tossed his cell phone beside it, thoughts of work draining out of his head with all the blood.
“This wasn’t the kind of lunch I had in mind, but I’m game,” he said, his eyes moving over her body slowly. “I find I’m very hungry all of a sudden.”
Her black hair was sleek and short and her eyes were made up for seduction. Her lips were red and full and thoughts of them wrapped around his cock had him unsnapping the top button of his jeans for a little breathing room.
She flicked the riding crop in her hand and shook her head, telling him without words that she was in charge and to not get too aggressive. They were both dominant personalities, in and outside of the bedroom, and though Cooper had always been the Dominant in his past relationships, he couldn’t get by with that with Claire. She didn’t mind submitting to him, as long as the next time they switched roles. And it looked like this was next time.
Her arms and shoulders showed muscles from her thrice weekly workouts and she wore a black corset that cinched her in the middle and pushed her very voluptuous breasts impossibly high. The bra cups of the bustier were missing so her breasts were completely bared to him, and in place of the usual gold hoops she wore at her nipples were long gold dangles.
Her skin was pale and smooth and flawless, and a tiny black triangle covered her pussy. Images of tearing the lacy scrap had him growling low in his throat. She wore leather boots that crisscrossed all the way to the middle of her thighs and she tapped the crop in her hand impatiently.
She made a hell of a picture, and the thought went through his mind that maybe it wasn’t her turn to be on top after all. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and roar with triumph as he conquered her. The Alpha in him applauded the notion, but the other side of his brain said it would be worth it if he complied with her wishes.
Twenty minutes later he wondered if she might be trying to kill him. She’d strapped him to the bed. Sneaky wench. And he had no choice but to lie there and take the torture.
She’d started at his mouth, distracting him, tempting him until he’d felt the first clasp around his wrist. And then she’d kissed her way down to his neck, taking sharp little nips with her teeth and driving him crazy. She tugged at the rings in his nipples and then her mouth replaced her fingers.
“God, Claire,” he said between gritted teeth. His cock was hard enough to drive nails and his hips nudged against her. She was straddling his thighs and he almost cheered when he realized the panties she wore were crotchless and he could slide right in.
“Tsk, tsk,” Claire said, shifting her hips and thwarting his chances of thrusting deep inside her. “You’re always so impatient. I’m trying to have my lunch.” Her smile was devious and a little bit wicked.
“You must be starving,” he said. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Famished,” she purred.
His body was damp with sweat and he writhed on the cool sheets as she continued her torture, her mouth tugging one last time on the nipple ring. She kissed a straight line down his taut abs and the dangles from her nipple ring trailed over the tip of his cock. His whole body shuddered at the touch and he strained against the restraints at his wrists, the headboard creaking with his strength.
He looked down his body and met her witchy gaze, and then her tongue flicked out and toyed with the silver bar at the tip of his dick and he was lost. Her mouth was a miracle, and his balls drew up tight as she swallowed him whole. He wouldn’t last long at this pace and he wanted to have his lunch too.
Somewhere in the far recesses of his mind he heard his cell phone ringing from the foyer where he’d left it on the table, but he ignored it, thinking he could’ve been wrong and it might just be the ringing in his ears.
“Ride me,” he said, his grip tightening on the restraints.
“There’s time for that yet. This is going to be a long lunch.”
“Not if you don’t slow that sweet mouth down a little, sugar.”
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Her nails scraped down his thighs and she got up on all fours. “That hurts my feelings. Where’s your faith in me? You don’t think I could get you hard again?” She pouted prettily and leaned down so the piercings dangled against his legs, rocking back and forth in a hypnotic motion.
No, she was right. He must’ve lost his mind for a moment. She’d always been able to get him hard. Time after time through the night. She was insatiable. And he was insatiable when he was with her. “Jesus, Claire. I could come just by looking at you.”
“Mmm, maybe next time. I’ve got plans for now.”
She levered herself up so she stood above him on the bed and grabbed hold of the harness she’d set up before he’d gotten home. Their sex life had always been spectacular, and they liked to experiment. None of that had changed after marriage. They still had the standing toy chest and had added to it over the years. Their bed was solid and they’d had the rings installed at the corners of the headboard and footboard, as well as the hooks in the ceiling so they could attach apparatus as they wanted or needed. It seemed Claire was definitely in an experimental mood.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said.
“I’m not sure I can take any more surprises today.”
She took hold of the harness in the ceiling with one hand and then hooked one thumb beneath the lacy strap of her panties and tugged. It tore and the thin scrap of lace fluttered to the bed. She stood before him, her pussy bare and the little gold ring on her clit peeking out.
“Are you sure?” she asked. She reached up with her free hand and played with the nipple ornament.
“I don’t know,” he said, grinning. “Give me a hint and I’ll tell you whether or not I can take it.”
Her grin answered his. “Oh, you’ll take it. And you’ll like it.”
“I always do, sweetheart. Now why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and share the surprise?”
“Telling you would take the fun out of it. You’ll have to find it if you want it.”