Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Natalie Acres

  Instead of dragging out the inevitable, Lorenzo raised the bet and Colt was all-in. Both men stood. Lorenzo placed his hand at his waistband, most definitely fingering the butt of his gun. They turned them up and Lorenzo collapsed in his seat. Four kings didn’t compete against his pocketful of aces.

  Dragging the chips inward, Colt said, “’Bout time.” He didn’t act overly confident and he didn’t look at Lorenzo until his opponent slammed his fist against the felt.

  “I demand a new dealer!” Lorenzo shouted.

  “A new dealer?” Colt asked calmly. “You’ve been cleaning my plow for the last two hours. I take one hand and you want a new dealer?”

  “There’s something wrong with him,” Lorenzo said, glaring at Riley. “I don’t like his look. He has a bad vibe.”

  “Bad vibe?” Colt balked at that. “Let’s talk about horrible omens. Shall we?”

  “Get the girl,” Lorenzo snapped over his shoulder. One of Lorenzo’s men disappeared in the bedroom.

  Every muscle in Colt’s body stiffened. Riley stilled in his chair, most likely reaching for the gun that would’ve been holstered under the table.

  The burly fellow who’d been sitting with Kelly earlier dragged her through the hallway by the hair of her head. Colt leapt to his feet. “Let her go!”

  “Sit,” Riley grated out under his breath, his eyes fixated on Kelly and the man holding her by her long locks. “This isn’t how the casino operates. Release the woman and we’ll continue the game. I’ll call for an early replacement if you don’t like the way I deal.”

  Lorenzo flattened his palms on the table. “I’ve already told you. I don’t like the way you deal. I won’t change my mind.”

  Slowly reclaiming his chair, Colt rippled the chips and watched Kelly. She looked too calm. Fuck. She acted like a damned operative now.

  Lorenzo sneered. “Will you accommodate my wishes and request a replacement?”

  “Let me ask you something, Lorenzo. Is this the way you win when you play against the pros? Do they play by your rules?” Colt asked.

  “Yes. They do.”

  Colt snorted. “I’ll just bet they do. Those guys and gals don’t take a lot of shit from outsiders like you.”

  Lorenzo gritted his teeth and Colt realized he’d hit a nerve.

  “Outsiders like you have a rough time gaining respect in this city, huh?”

  “You know nothing of respect.”

  Colt felt his upper lip curl. “Don’t I?”

  “Put the woman in front of the flat screen and give Mr. Candy a demonstration.”

  The burly fellow dragged Kelly across the floor and tossed her to the sofa in front of the entertainment center. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Colt’s body stiffened as he prepared for the noise he had long since realized would soon fill the room.

  “Don’t hold back. Come with me, pretty girl!” Colt’s voice resounded.

  Hard gasps and bodies slapping resounded as his earlier private moment with Kelly became a free-for-all viewing for all men and women present in the room. Instead of bowing his head, he watched Lorenzo, plastering a smirk on his face to taunt the man at the end. “You think I didn’t know what you had up your sleeve, Lorenzo?” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at Kelly. “I’ll take her wherever I can get her and I don’t give a damn who watches.”

  Riley didn’t look away from the cards. Lorenzo leaned over the table, glaring at Riley. “What’s wrong, card dealer? Don’t you find her appealing?”

  “I have a woman,” Riley said, glaring at Lorenzo. “And I won’t participate in your exploitation of any woman. If she wanted to share the video, it’s one thing. For you to do it to taunt your opponent, it’s another thing altogether. Do you want me to deal now, or do you want to watch soft porn from an amateur’s video? Your call.”

  “Deal,” Lorenzo grated out. “But make sure you shuffle them this time.”

  “I love you, Colt.” Kelly’s words to him earlier filled the surround-sound speakers and Lorenzo slammed his hands against the table once more. “Turn it off.”

  Colt peeked at his cards. “Bothers you. Doesn’t it?”

  “You think I haven’t heard those very words, Mr. Candy?”

  “Past doesn’t matter to me,” Colt said, tossing in his chips for a raise. “I’m all about the future.” He slowly lifted his gaze. “The one I plan to start later today with Kelly.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Lorenzo said, nodding at his obedient soldier. “Show Mr. Candy a more enticing video from our collection.”

  “No!” Kelly screamed.

  Colt lunged at the man behind him without a second to spare, realizing too late the reason for Kelly’s outburst. The big guy held a disc high above Kelly’s head as she fought for the plastic case.

  “You’re boring me, Kelly,” Lorenzo said, rising. “We’re playing on an even field here today. Remember?”

  “Leave her out of this,” Colt said, glaring at the man who’d once been very good to Kelly. He knew all about their history. He happened to believe what he’d heard. At one time, Lorenzo doted on her. At one time, she thought a lot of him. Still, he didn’t want to watch a replay of a clip where another man—particularly Lorenzo—had fucked her.

  Riley rubbed his jaw with three fingers and a thumb, yawning as if he were positively bored. He looked at Colt, staring at Lorenzo’s back. He shook his head once and looked down. This was part of their job, and if he didn’t go along with it, then he could put everyone in danger.

  “Play it,” Colt said. “I don’t give a fuck.”

  Lorenzo returned to the table.

  “Please, don’t.” Kelly pleaded with Lorenzo. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t do this.”

  “Anything?” Lorenzo asked, excitement in his voice.

  Colt whipped around in his seat. “Take her to her room and put on the damned video. I have a card game I’d like to finish.”

  “Colt, no!” she screamed as two of Lorenzo’s men dragged her out of the room again. Bracing for the upcoming noises, Colt refocused on the table.

  The next few minutes would likely be some of the most difficult moments of his life. Somehow, he’d find a way to survive.

  * * * *

  “Well that’s gotta suck,” Brock said, glaring at the unfolding images.

  Crue stiffened in his chair, trying to concentrate on the card game rather than the home videos from the Lorenzo and Kelly private collection. Gabe looked green. He couldn’t even focus on the screen.

  “Gabe, I got this,” Brock said, taking over.

  A few minutes later, Gabe was puking his guts up in the nearby bathroom.

  “That’s a first,” Brock said, studying the game and zooming in on the chip stacks.

  “He’s in love with her,” Crue said, focusing on the game.

  “You are, too, but I don’t see you hovered over the porcelain squatter.”

  “We each handle things differently,” Crue said.

  “So I’ve heard,” Brock drawled.

  In the distance, the racket continued. The erotic sounds spilled through their computers until Brock killed the volume. With the muted speakers, Crue found himself watching out of his peripheral.

  Lorenzo had Kelly’s hands tied to the bed. Her legs were spread and a dildo impaled her. He ate her pussy, lapping at the juices spilling around her opening. When he finished, he fucked her with the toy, pulling at his cock until he came. There wasn’t anything spectacular about their time together.

  “Dear God,” Brock muttered. “If that’s all I had to offer, I’d be damned if I’d show the clip to another man, especially one I viewed as my competition.” Brock glanced at him. “Did he ever fuck her?”

  Kemper walked up and waggled his tongue. “That’s all she got. He was saving the rest for their wedding night.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Brock said. “This guy is quite a character.”

  “He was fucking whores. He wouldn�
��t even let her suck his cock. He had decided to get tested before he went to bed with her. He really cared about her in his own way, I think,” Kemper said.

  “Fucking whores and he cared about her?”

  “He’s being sarcastic,” Crue said.

  “With Kemper it’s hard to tell,” Brock said, pointing at the screen. “Things should get interesting now. The tables turned completely with Riley behind the cards. Best I can tell, Lorenzo has two hundred thousand remaining.”

  “Two ten,” Crue corrected him.

  “Fuck!” Brock screamed, noting Veronica taking Riley’s place.

  “Problem?”

  “Yeah, Sloane was supposed to be the in-between. Veronica can switch up the cards quickly and this game could be over in one hand now that Lorenzo is rattled.”

  Crue turned to him. “And that’s a problem why?”

  Brock shook his finger at Colt’s broken image on the screen. “Lorenzo’s little mind fuck played with his head.”

  “He’s all right,” Crue assured him.

  “Let’s hope so. If he isn’t and Veronica gets hurt, Sloane will go after everyone’s blood.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Who the hell did you fuck to get this gig?” Lorenzo asked, looking her up and down.

  “Ah hell,” Colt muttered, running his hand through his hair. He was tired of playing cards. He was ready for some action. After he had been forced to listen to Kelly’s pleas for sex and more stimulating pleasure, the kind of pleasure brought to her by another man, he was pissed.

  He wanted to reach across the table and strangle Lorenzo. Actually, strangulation was on the bottom of the list. He could think of better ways to kill him, to make him suffer. He couldn’t believe he’d sat there for this long without ripping him apart.

  Now, when he wanted his blood more than he had in the previous hour, they’d brought in Veronica Remington. Fuck. And she looked as if she were ready to pop. Double fuck.

  What other tricks did the Donovan brothers have up their sleeves, and why the hell were they placing a pregnant operative in the middle of a warzone? Last he’d heard, Veronica was on leave, working on raising a family.

  This was one damned hell of a fucked-up situation. Now he had two women to watch!

  Veronica patted the felt as if she’d been dealing cards most of her life. She dealt two cards to each player. Soon, they were playing hand after hand, nothing substantial happening.

  With five minutes left on her shift, Veronica dealt the final cards. Her expression didn’t change. The only difference in the way she’d dealt this hand in comparison to others was that she turned and looked at Riley prior to dealing them.

  As soon as Colt saw his hole cards, he saw the setup. Ace-king of hearts. With the flop, the community cards included a nine of clubs and an eight of clubs along with the queen of hearts. By the turn card, he could’ve called the hand. The turn would be a jack of hearts and the river would bring a ten of the same suit.

  He should’ve been a gambling man.

  Then again, not every poker player had the luxury of seeing Veronica Remington behind the table. Sloane entered maybe a second before Lorenzo went all-in, probably so convinced he had the hand won with his straight flush that he never saw the royal coming.

  Colt took his time calling the hand, realizing once the cards flipped, the game was over and undesirable characters from all walks of life would pour out of the adjoining room. He focused on Riley. Then, his eyes met Sloane’s.

  Neither man showed his emotions. By all accounts, Veronica was all-in, too. Her hair was all knotted up, topping her head in an unruly fashion. He’d wager a small fortune she’d used a sharp weapon to secure her fashionable style.

  “If you’re all-in, turn them up,” Lorenzo demanded, tapping his finger on the felt.

  “I’ll be happy to do just that,” Colt said, rising to his feet. “But first, I want Kelly out of this room.”

  Lorenzo’s jaw twitched. “You aren’t too sure about your win then. Are you?”

  “We had a deal, Lorenzo,” he said, glaring at Veronica then. “And the women dealers. I want them out of here, too.”

  Lorenzo sniffed at that. Sloane’s lips curved in a slow smile, obviously satisfied with the deal made on behalf of his lady. Veronica, however, opposed. “It’s my game. My table. I’m not leaving until the clock strikes twelve.”

  “Then I’ll wait two extra minutes and your replacement can take over,” Colt said, not about to be outdone by a woman with a baby to consider. He was looking out for her and her unborn child. One day she might thank him.

  “Fine,” Lorenzo conceded. “The women dealers and Kelly can wait downstairs with my brother.”

  Motioning for a man who’d stood in the corner since the poker game had begun, Lorenzo said, “I believe we’re in good shape here. Take the future Mrs. Molinelli to our favorite bar downstairs. The female dealers are free to go. They’re of no use to us now and the less they know, the better.”

  The man disappeared in the bedroom and a few minutes later, Kelly emerged. Her face was ashen. She’d been crying again, but he could tell by the way she was walking where she’d hidden her weapon. She’d obviously attached the piece to the inside of her thigh and was having a difficult time concealing the gun. With her luck the pistol would drop to the floor about the time she walked through the door.

  “Miss?” Sloane lifted Veronica’s chair and held out his arm to the left. “If you will please follow the other ladies.”

  Veronica brushed by him. She didn’t say anything to Sloane, but she bit out something in passing as she walked by Riley, apparently determined to let someone know she wasn’t happy with the way things were ending.

  Sloane looked at Colt. “Now, play your hand. I’m ready for the grand finale.”

  Lorenzo studied Colt and then looked at Sloane. Had he caught the air of familiarity between the two men? Did he recognize him? Had Daniel ever spoken of the legendary Sloane Remington?

  Colt touched the edge of his cards. Lorenzo held up his hand. He glared at Sloane, shooting daggers through the man with his angry gaze, the only visible piercing instrument in his possession.

  “Once upon a time, there was a man named Gomez Gustavo Esparza.” Lorenzo spoke in a diabolical tone. “Do you remember him?”

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Sloane said, never moving a muscle.

  Lorenzo leaned forward. A smile lifted his lips before he continued. “I was a small boy when my Uncle Gomez—you may have known him as Gus—took me under his wing and brought me to the States.”

  Riley dropped his arms behind his back. His breathing had quickened and Colt caught a visible twitch in Sloane’s cheek. Fury lingered behind his tight façade of a cool demeanor. Any evidence of the earlier mischief Colt had witnessed when Veronica had been dismissed was long gone.

  “I don’t know you or any Uncle Gomez,” Sloane bit out.

  “Let me refresh your memory,” Lorenzo said, his upper lip curling. “Wilson Remington died on his front porch right in front of his sons. Benson Remington killed on his front lawn not long after his father was gunned down.” Lorenzo’s smile broadened and he extended his hand. “Perhaps a more formal introduction is in order. I’m Lorenzo Molinelli Esparza, one of two surviving nephews of Gomez Gustavo Esparza, the man responsible for your father’s and brother’s deaths.”

  Riley drew his gun. Colt backed away from the table, reaching for a blade tucked in his boot, but Sloane grabbed Lorenzo’s offered hand and withdrew and opened a switchblade, slicing Lorenzo’s forearm from his elbow to his palm, bending his fingers back as he cursed under his breath.

  Lorenzo gasped as the reality of his approaching death hit home with a spurt of blood exiting the wound. Lorenzo’s men rushed the room. Colt yanked the poker table forward, slamming the wood against Sloane in an effort to give him coverage until he regained his composure.

  Riley pumped several rounds of bullets into his approaching attackers
as Colt slung one open knife into a brute’s shoulder while retrieving another weapon from his belt.

  By this time, the rest of their team had rushed the room. Brock Donovan and Kemper entered with their guns drawn. Crue and Gabe came inside the room pumping rifles like shotguns, marching like robots as they finished clearing the area.

  When the smoke vanished, all heads turned to Sloane. He knelt beside Lorenzo and ripped away the jagged blade, leaving Lorenzo’s flesh torn and open, the gaping wound an apparent reminder of the hell Lorenzo’s family had once brought down on the Remington family.

  Veronica rushed the suite and crumbled around him, holding his head to her chest as she rocked him back and forth whispering to him. Brock stalked across the room, opening and shutting doors before he turned to them and said, “Riley, clean up downstairs. We’ll take the brother back to Virginia for questioning.”

  Colt glanced at Crue, who had never approved of Brock Donovan’s means of handling interrogations. “Don’t you mean ‘torturing’?”

  Sloane rose to his feet and stalked Crue. “He had it right the first time.”

  “Get this mess cleaned up,” Brock said, leaving the suite as if he’d just completed another day at any normal office job.

  Colt’s eyes met Veronica’s. “Are you okay?”

  “Considering you botched my job? I’d say the question of the hour is—are you okay?” She approached him with a limp and before he knew what had happened, she’d bent her knee and aimed for his crotch. He grabbed her upper body with one arm and secured her calf against his side.

  “Pregnant or not, I won’t give you a free one there, sweet thing.”

  Sloane sneered and Colt held his breath. He’d fully expected a war of words, but instead, Sloane grabbed Veronica’s hand and they immediately left the scene.

  “What do you think will happen to Lorenzo’s brother?” Brand asked.

  “I’d say there’s a good chance he’s already been shown the tunnels under the city,” Kemper replied, relaxing his shoulders.