“And in the meantime, you’re waving enough flags to earn plenty of attention from the guys in New York.”
“How’d you find out about the festival?” Mark asked.
“I twerk. Thank you very much.” Joshua sat a little straighter in his chair. These younger guys had nothing on the older generation.
“You mean tweet?” Mark asked.
Joshua balked at that. What was the damned difference? “You listen to me, you little smartass. My daughter is in danger. My entire family is wanted by the mob and—”
“And Mark and Spenser didn’t put them in danger,” Baron said, interrupting him.
“Well ain’t this just great? I’m on speakerphone and you didn’t have enough respect to tell me as much. Well since I am, all of you listen to me. The Cartwell and the McKay families are in the middle of an outright war because of that lousy Alberto Baldini. Until we get in front of that, nothing else matters. Do you hear me?”
“Joshua, we have Patience covered here,” Baron said, seemingly certain.
“That’s wonderful news,” Vicky said, joining him at the kitchen table. “How is my darling daughter?”
“Darling,” Spenser replied. “How are you, Vicky?”
“We’re doing well, all things considered,” Vicky replied. “But we’re very concerned about the media attention. Spenser, do you think we should send more protection or perhaps send her out of the country?”
Joshua hit the mute button while Spenser assured her they would do their best to keep Patience safe. “What do you think you’re doing, Vicky? I don’t need my submissive wife taking control here!”
“That’s too bad. You can punish me later. For now, you need to remember one thing—Patience McKay has my blood in her veins, too. I’m just as concerned as you are, if not more!” She dabbed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Now unmute this call.”
Cursing under his breath, because he absolutely hated seeing his wife cry, Joshua hit the speaker option and said, “Baron, I want you and Patience on the first plane home.”
“Dad!”
“Patience, you’re an adult. You can do what you want, but I know for a fact that they cannot keep you safe in an open festival environment. There’s no way to guarantee your safety when any attendee in the crowd could walk right by you and stab you in passing!”
“Your father is right,” Baron said, complete resignation in his voice.
“We can join you for a few days after the festival,” Mark assured her.
“Swell,” Joshua muttered. “Maybe by the time you get here, my hands won’t be cramping with the absurd need to wrap around your necks and squeeze the life out of you and your brother.” He disconnected the call and turned to Vicky. “You could’ve stayed out—”
Babababooom! Babbaboom! Whewwwww! Babababoom!
“Patrick! Aspen!” Joshua scooped Vicky up before she had time to do something foolish like run outside.
“Joshua!” She pointed at their barn now engulfed in flames. “The horses!”
Patrick and Aspen sprinted down the front steps. Aspen leapt over the banister, screaming into his phone as he ran to the gun cabinet at the back of the McKay’s country kitchen. “We’re under attack here! The whole damn place is going up in flames! Send everyone you have!”
Joshua thrust Vicky into Patrick’s arms. He cupped her face, fearing he might not see her again.
“Looks like the guys in New York decided to pay us a visit!” Aspen yelled, grabbing a shotgun with one hand, a semi-automatic with the other.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Patrick screamed.
In that moment, Joshua blamed himself as much as Patrick blamed him. Until the incident at Clink, he had wasted precious time trying to figure out who had shot at his daughter. The signs had been there all along. He simply couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that the mob had wanted Patience dead.
Apparently, the boys in New York had sent a message that day. Now they were delivering a harsh threat. The McKays had sided with the Cartwells, which meant they were standing with Alberto Baldini and against Hank Sarsarone.
“I love you!” Vicky screamed. “Please be careful.”
“Get her out of here, Patrick! The house could be next!”
“I’ll take care of Vicky. You just cover Aspen!”
“Joshua, please save the horses!”
He didn’t know how to tell her but based on those bombs, there wouldn’t be anything left of their beloved animals. He grabbed his weapons and ran out of the house, worried he couldn’t save much of anything now, but at the very least he could watch out for his brother.
As soon as he hit the back stoop of his home, Joshua noticed the Cartwell place across the way lit up like Christmas, too. This wasn’t just a battle, a warning of any sort.
The mob had declared outright war.
Chapter Fourteen
She and Baron were leaving tomorrow, but tonight they would enjoy an outright loving celebration. While she might have hoped for a less public introduction as Mark and Spenser McCoy’s girlfriend, she had to look at the positives, too.
The world now knew she was loved and loved well. The groupies out there understood, too.
Her men were off the market.
Mark was at her lips, caressing them with his engorged cockhead. With measured beats, practically planned and rehearsed, Spenser and Baron rocked against her. Baron screwed his cock inside her, looking on as she sucked and enjoyed Mark’s dick.
“So damned sexy,” Baron crooned, throwing down a good fucking rhythm.
Spenser nudged her hole with his fingers before pushing against her and slowly penetrating her with his cock. He was easy and meticulous, impaling her as if he were afraid to stretch her too rapidly. Cupping her breasts, he tweaked her nipples as he entered her. “I gotcha, little lady.”
She hummed in response, sucking Mark’s dick. This was what she’d missed. This incredible loving feeling was perhaps what she had needed all along.
They took her together and her body responded to each one of their strokes. She was on fire. Her pussy milked Baron’s cock as Spenser wormed his way in her back entrance, leaving a series of kisses along her neck.
“Don’t let me hurt you, Patience.”
Baron locked his lip under his teeth and his nostrils flared as he shifted his hips. She could tell by his pained expression that this sort of loving was a little more than he’d bargained for, perhaps too much given their new relationship.
Mark fed her his dick, sliding his fingers along his shaft as he pushed the weight of his cock deep inside her mouth. His control seemingly lost, his balls tapped at her chin as his thick shaft thrummed across her tongue. He was all but hers for the taking and she sensed it as he rocked against her, his strokes becoming more precise.
“God you’re beautiful,” Baron rasped, his blue-hot gaze falling to her pussy. He slowed his pace, pulling back, pushing forward, and pulling out once more. Then, he penetrated her to the hilt, this time with a rapid beat.
“That’s it, lover,” Spenser crooned, short-thrusting her.
“Play with your clit, sub,” Baron ground out, pummeling her then with harder strokes.
She reached down the length of her body, pinching her clit and nearly coming as Baron found that ultra-sensitive spot and rubbed his cockhead against her tender muscles. His crooked smile let her know he was well aware of what he was doing and she was seconds away from taking that freefall, the orgasm that would leave her squeezing around their shafts, pulling them closer to their own satisfying ends as well.
Mark slipped away from her mouth and ran his fingers up and down his cock, aiming his slick tip at her wet lips. “Suck me, lover.”
“Come closer,” she teased, caressing his tight sac.
“I’ll come closer all right,” Mark promised, sliding across her tongue and pounding her throat until her gag reflexes were working overtime.
Spenser nipped at her ear. “Tell us what to do to make this work for you.”
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“Trust me. It’s working,” she whispered dreamily as she released Mark long enough to respond.
Soon, she and Baron would return home and she would miss this. She would miss them.
Her focus was on Baron then. His rigid body went still. Beads of sweat peppered his brow. He gripped the bedpost and rocked his hips, forward and back, then side to side. He seemingly fought the need to come and somehow stroked on when she’d fully expected him to blow.
“Get wild with me, Patience,” Spenser said in a more demanding voice. He pinched her nipples and thrust deep and long, fighting for his own space while setting a new rhythm and perfect time.
Mark hollered. His cock jutted forward and his cum splashed the back of her throat, coating her tonsils. Patience swallowed again and again, loving the creamy spill as it washed down her throat, leaving her with his spicy rich taste.
She slowly swiped her tongue across his pulsing slit, enjoying the way he jerked with the last of his release peppering her tongue, tantalizing her taste buds. Her body was now nothing more than a new mechanism of expressed love as Baron and Spenser rocked her to and fro, enjoying her as they seemingly resisted their own pleasure in order to ensure she reached her climax, that exhilarating high.
“Come, sub.” Baron’s voice was deep and guttural. He dipped his hips and shared several long-thrusting strokes before they became broken and short, quick and rhythmic. “Ah God!”
“Fuck me, babe.” Spenser pummeled her from behind. His hammering thrusts grew faster then. “Oh damn!”
Spenser’s cock traveled higher and higher until he clutched her hips and stilled, twitching as he filled his condom with a powerful release. She curved her arm behind her head, raking her fingers through his shoulder-length hair while touching Baron’s groin, urging him on, driving him forward.
At that very moment, Baron hollered. He screwed her like a man who was anxious for the end so he could start all over again.
His cum jetted forward and his hot release splashed inside her channel, coating her muscles and tissues with the best of his release. As his warm heat traveled inside her pussy, Patience lost her will to hold out any longer. She wrapped her legs around Baron’s waist, and held him close as her body quietly wilted away, sated and complete.
* * * *
“She says she isn’t leaving until she sees your noon performance.” Baron didn’t like it a damn bit but until they established rules and signed a contract to make their relationship official, he really didn’t have a right to insist that she abide by his wishes. Besides, it was broad daylight. They were probably safer there than they were in Fletcher at the moment.
He hadn’t heard from Patience’s fathers since the night before and it had been kind of nice. They’d soon return to North Carolina and he’d hear plenty from the McKays then.
Strumming their guitars and jotting down notes, Mark and Spenser worked on lyrics. Baron studied his woman, sprawled out on the sofa leisurely, seemingly content to read her action-packed thriller.
“I don’t like it, man,” Spenser said abruptly. “The chorus is all wrong.”
“Agreed.” Mark glanced at Patience and smiled. “Maybe we have too much of a distraction.”
She lowered her book. “I’m on chapter one and until I reach the fourth chapter, I have no intentions of moving from this couch.” She lifted her novel in front of her face again.
“And what makes you think we can’t just take you right there on the couch?” Spenser asked saucily.
Baron cocked his head and watched her. She was so damned pretty first thing in the morning. Her hair was damp from her recent shower. Her face was devoid of make-up. She was the epitome of beauty and seemingly didn’t even realize it.
“Seriously, guys, let me rest,” she pleaded.
“For now,” Mark said, strumming his guitar again.
“No promises for how long,” Spenser added before turning to Baron. “I’m not sure it’s any safer in Fletcher than it is here.”
“Is that what’s on your mind?” He’d been around the McCoys many times and when they wrote music together, they didn’t have any problem staying focused, even when Patience was around.
“They can’t keep her safe,” Spenser said.
Patience sighed, rolled her eyes, and slowly rose. “I’m locking all three of you out. Seriously. I need a moment of rest and relaxation and that includes not talking about the mob, cartel, gangs, or whatever other bad element seemingly wants to insert itself into our lives. Please let me enjoy the morning.”
Before anyone could agree to let her have that much, she was gone. Baron smiled when she slammed the door and made a racket out of locking it.
“Minx,” Baron said under his breath.
“Oh, you’re just getting a glimpse of what we put up with,” Spenser told him.
“He ain’t lying,” Mark said.
Baron knew Patience better than either McCoy but he didn’t tell them as much. Instead, he claimed the spot Patience had deserted. “How do we handle her dads? They seem to think they know what’s best for her.”
“Maybe they do,” Mark said.
“I’m not convinced.” Baron threw his arms over the cushions. After some deep thought, he leaned forward and added, “Remember Stealth Wales? He worked at Clink for a bit. Anyway, he ended up seeing Gemma Baldini. She was—”
“The family drunk?” Mark suggested. “We remember her well. She used to follow our tour. She’d show up and throw around Cartwell’s name so she could score VIP tickets for herself and her friends. A few times she came backstage with a couple of fellas from Erwin. Can’t remember their names but they were pretty rough, best I remember.”
“I wasn’t going to say the family drunk,” Baron said. “What I wanted to mention is something you may not know. Joshua and Kane kept it under wraps, but Alberto went to Hank Sarsarone and offered Gemma to Hank in exchange for Nory. Apparently Sarsarone had his eye on Nory because he realized Alberto cared deeply for his youngest daughter.”
“Really?” Spenser snarled. “That man only cares deeply for his next lay and the one after that. He’s too damned sorry to give a flip about anything or anyone—Nory included—as far as I’m concerned.”
“And maybe you’re right. Still, he went to Sarsarone and offered Gemma in exchange for Nory, one daughter for another. I don’t know what went down but it wasn’t good. Apparently, Gemma has six or seven boyfriends now—Stealth included—and they keep her out of the country because it’s too dangerous for her to return home.”
“So you’re suggesting we send Patience out of the country?”
“I’m suggesting that we handle her protection ourselves.”
Spenser set aside his guitar. “Let me ask you something, Baron. Have you ever seen Patrick McKay angry?”
“Patrick doesn’t scare me.” Even Joshua didn’t intimidate Baron and most people considered Joshua a real brute.
“He should,” Spenser said. “I know very little about his relationship with Vicky but from what everyone says, he would die for her and he wouldn’t think twice about it. He thinks of Vicky as his possession and you should know, Patience is the apple of his eye. She can do no wrong. And with that said, he doesn’t like it when she’s not in Fletcher. If she’s not within his reach, he’s a downright bastard.”
“He’s a control freak,” Mark added. “But more importantly, he’s not quite right in the head.”
“Is there a point here?”
“They won’t let us take her out of the country,” Mark said.
“It’s not even practical when you consider all the tools they have at their disposal,” Spenser pointed out.
Baron frowned. “Look, I get what you’re saying. Their place is locked down like a federal building. No one goes in or comes out without being thoroughly checked. Ever since this thing with the New York mob spun out of control, it’s tough to get on any of the Cartwell or McKay properties without proper identification or a thorough background check.�
� He took a weighted breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they can protect her.”
Mark grabbed the remote control and hit the power button. The McCoys relaxed in their recliners and Baron kicked back on the sofa. A commercial about cheap flights made Baron wonder a bit more. His mother, God rest her soul, had believed in things like “signs” and karma. Perhaps the commercial was a sign. As the advertisement faded to black, a reporter reappeared in front of a property engulfed by flames. The caption read, “Adjoining farms set ablaze late last night in North Carolina.”
Baron sat upright, squinting to read the caption scrolling across the bottom. Mark shook his head. “Sort of looks like—”
“Fletcher, North Carolina residents are still reeling this morning after two families fought to save their homes and barns in a catastrophic fire. Kane Cartwell and Joshua McKay, two local businessmen, along with their families, awoke in the middle of the night to find their properties consumed by fires….”
“Oh my God,” Mark said, leaning forward.
“Explains why we haven’t heard from anyone.” Spenser dug his phone out of his pocket.
Baron was already on his feet, calling Clink. He walked outside, praying for his friends and hoping no one had been seriously injured or worse—killed.
“Clink.” There wasn’t the usual enthusiasm in the receiver’s voice.
In fact, the voice on the other end was so quiet and dark, Baron had to ask, “Who is this?”
“Baron? This is Reason Richards.”
“We just saw the Cartwell and McKay farms on national news. How bad is it?”
“They lost stock and all the barns on both properties. Trixie’s place was hit, too.”
“Are the kids all right?”
“Yeah. Brock and Rory left with them this morning. Mitch stayed behind with Trixie. She refused to leave while her parents are going through such a tough time.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Evan tried to save a few of Peyton’s horses. He was trapped in the barn and had to jump from the loft. Other than a broken leg, he’s banged up but alive. No one else was injured but it’s a miracle.”
Sex Fest [Cowboy Sex 8] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Page 14