Only their woman mattered.
Mel pulled himself out of his reverie and put his focus on the job at hand. That part of him that remained “cop” took over. They made their way into the house, taking the time to don latex gloves and put little disposable booties over their shoes—they were, after all, entering a crime scene. Inside the building, there were crime scene technicians at work. Mel noticed Baxter’s computer was missing. Hank Stinson came over to them.
“I called Jack Warner and Adam Davis in. Adam’s gone through the house and verified there have been no major changes to the inside since the last time he was here. Jack is waiting for us out by the sheds.”
Mel caught the look of apology in the sheriff’s eyes. “I’ve had to call the State boys in after all. They’re letting me have control of the crime scene for just another couple of hours.”
The implications of that were clear to Mel. When the state police arrived, he and Connor had to be gone.
“That should be long enough,” Connor said.
They’d talked it over ever since they’d sat together in that tree and watched Baxter come out of his house and head for the outbuilding. Both of them were in agreement. They believed the evidence that would tie Ralph Baxter to the murder of Neil Jackson would be found out in that one particular “shed.”
They headed out to the area behind the house. One of the sheriff’s deputies had been working trying to find the right key for each lock on the shed that Mel and Connor wanted to look into the most. That key was then marked. Mel knew they wanted to identify each of the keys—all sixty-five of them—on the massive ring.
“You might get an anonymous tip about a number of safe-deposit boxes held in the name of Bruce Smith,” Connor told the sheriff.
The man grunted. “I hope Mr. Anonymous waits a week or so, until after the news of the arrest of Ralph Baxter, aka Bruce Smith hits the newspapers.”
“I’m sure he will,” Connor said.
Mel worked hard not to snicker. Clearly, it would be easier to explain the tip after the man’s face had been splashed all over the newspapers and televisions of Central Texas.
They reached the shed and Mel and Connor both shook hands with Jack Warner.
“Thanks for coming out, Jack.” Hank said.
“Happy to help, Hank. I always knew there was something off with this guy,” Jack said. He looked at Mel. “Is Emily Anne okay?”
“She was exhausted last night, but otherwise she’s fine. Thanks for asking.”
“That was a hell of a thing for you all to go through,” Jack said. “There’s nothing worse for a man than when his woman is threatened.”
“Amen to that,” Mel said.
The deputy opened another lock then looked at his boss. “That’s the last one, Sheriff.”
Stinson nodded and motioned that his deputy should open the door.
Mel stood back, letting the lawman enter first. The deputy followed and then Mel, Connor, and finally Jack Warner entered the shed.
The deputy, under direction of the sheriff, opened the large, rolling-type garage door that had been locked completely from within.
But even before the increased daylight entered the building, Mel saw the hulking shape, covered by a dark tarp, in the middle of the floor.
“Huh.” Stinson took a few steps forward.
Because they were standing in what essentially was a crime scene, Mel and Connor, along with Jack, stood back and allowed Stinson full honors.
He squatted down a foot or so from the tarp-covered object. “Talc sprinkled in a circle around whatever is under the tarp.”
“Likely he put the talc there so he’d know if anyone came close to whatever that is,” Mel said.
“Yep.”
Stinson signaled his deputy and together they lifted the material and pulled it off.
The men just looked at what they’d uncovered for a long moment. “What’s that? An 89, 90?” Jack asked.
“It’s a 1990 Ford Fiesta,” Connor said. “And I believe that investigation will reveal it as having been registered to Neil Jackson, former public defender working in the Austin area, and last seen in July of 1998.”
“That would constitute solid circumstantial,” Stinson said. He moved, and kicked something that skittered across the floor. All eyes went to the piece of concrete. Mel looked beyond the single piece and saw the cracks that appeared to be everywhere.
“Hell, Jack. You didn’t do a very good job pouring this floor.”
“I damn sure didn’t pour this floor, Hank. All the others, yes. But this one was already in place, and not for all that long, either, when I built this building up over top of it. Back then I thought this was a do-it-yourself job and now I can verify it. The concrete is cracking because he added too much drying agent when he was mixing it. If you use too heavy a hand with that stuff, it winds up weakening the concrete. The first shift in seasons and this floor was probably riddled with cracks.”
Jack Warner’s words echoed in the tomb-like silence of the shed. Mel shivered and looked over at Connor. Connor shook his head, as if barely believing that in the end, Ralph Baxter had proven to be as stupid as all of that.
Then Mel met Stinson’s gaze and felt his right eyebrow go up. He needn’t have worried about the intelligence of the sheriff of Divine County. Hank Stinson was sharp as two tacks.
Sheriff Stinson looked over at his deputy. “We’re going to need a crew to take down this building, and an excavator to pull off this concrete slab.”
Mel didn’t have to wait around for the police to finish this particular excavation. He knew, in the way that cops and former cops sometimes knew things, what it was they’d uncover beneath the poorly poured concrete floor.
He had no doubt whatsoever that they would find the remains of Neil Jackson.
Chapter 28
Emily Anne lay back in the old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub, the scented oil she’d added to the steaming water making her feel soft, supple, and totally relaxed.
She’d awakened alone, of course, far past the time she normally would have arisen. She knew Mel and Connor had headed back to Divine and she had actually expected them to be gone all day.
The note they left was a pleasant surprise. They’d given her very specific instructions for her morning without them. She was to rest, have a nice, long soak in this very tub—and not bother putting on more than the lovely turquoise satin robe that she’d found hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
She knew where they’d gotten it, too, and guessed they must have availed themselves of Discretions’ online order service.
And then, the note further instructed, she was to rest. Word had reached Kelsey—likely via Adam—of her adventure of the day before. Kelsey had left a message on their phone that Emily Anne was in no way to show her face at work for at least two days.
Personally, she didn’t think she needed that much time off. Today, yes. She still felt a little tired. She’d fallen asleep on the way home from The Dancing Pony the night before, and she couldn’t even remember being carried up to bed.
She awoke once in the night, a nebulous dream nipping at her consciousness. But she hadn’t come all the way awake because there’d been solid male heat on either side of her and the comforting, nonverbal sounds made by men intent on soothing their woman. She’d drifted back to sleep, the nightmare defeated before it could even fully embrace her.
I am so lucky.
Thoughts of her men, and what she would share with them when they returned from Divine, spurred her to finish her bath. She emerged from the tub, feeling soft and sexy. She took her time drying, enjoying the sensation of the lush towel brushing her skin. Then she slipped into the robe. The satin felt like sin and the color, her favorite, made her feel as if she’d been wrapped in luxury.
She’d slept well all night long, and really shouldn’t need any more rest. She considered going downstairs to have another cup of coffee, or to find a magazine to bring back upstairs and read while sh
e waited for Mel and Connor to come home.
Instead, she put fresh sheets on the bed and then stretched out on top of it. They told her to rest, and even though she was certain she wouldn’t sleep, she did as they’d asked.
And awoke sometime later to the sensation of the bed dipping on both sides of her.
“Hey, sleepy head.” Connor’s husky voice on her right told her he was horny. She nearly snickered. Connor Talbot was almost always horny.
“Mmm.” She opened her eyes when she felt the belt of her robe being untied. The sensation of Mel kissing her left cheek and nuzzling her ear drew a moan from her soul.
“You’re overdressed for this party, precious.”
“Am I?” It was at that moment she realized that both of her lovers were already completely naked.
“Indeed you are,” Connor confirmed. “This is our marriage bed. Nudity is a requirement.”
“I think I like this new rule.”
“We figured it out,” Mel said. He turned onto his right side and supported his head on his hand.
“We’ve done a lot of thinking, and then we talked about it, and came to the same conclusion,” Connor said. He eased onto his left side and copied his partner’s pose.
“It’s intent, and purpose. Our intent is to love you to distraction and our purpose is to put you in the center, make you our focus,” Mel said.
“It’s funny how everything can crystallize in a heartbeat.” Connor’s expression turned serious. “We’d spoken to some of the older men here in Lusty, and had nearly gotten to where we needed to be, mentally. And then yesterday happened. We both did a lot of soul searching yesterday, angel eyes, when we didn’t know what was going on with you. You were in danger, and the sudden possibility, however remote, that you could be seriously hurt or killed…” His words trailed off, and Emily Anne knew it was because he was too emotional to finish the thought.
“That brought everything home for us both,” Mel continued. “We knew that our main focus should be on you, and the relationship with you we were each building. But when we were sharing those moments of uncertainty, we understood there was and should be a special relationship between the two of us, as well.”
“We’re going to be like one husband in two parts. We’ll share the role of husband and, hopefully, father. We’ll work together to solve the challenges that come our way, and we’ll sure as hell work together to take care of you, and care for you.”
“And the other?” Emily Anne was very aware that there was an aspect to the ménage relationship that would naturally be a challenge for them both. There would be moments, during lovemaking, when they might accidentally touch each other, when they would feel each other inside her body. For two strong heterosexual men with no history of sharing a woman, that could be a deal breaker. She’d been terrified it would be one, for them.
Emily Anne knew deep down inside that her heart and her mind and her body and her soul needed both of these men. One husband in two parts? That pretty much summed up how she already thought of them.
They proved they knew her and her thoughts, then and there, by their next words.
“When we’re together, making love, no matter where we are, it’s a sacred thing. We’re not about sex. We’re about the purest form of love imaginable. This bed, this room—wherever we are will be sacred ground.” Mel placed his left hand on her stomach.
“And whatever we do, ultimately, will be our expression of our love for you. And no part of our loving you can be anything but wonderful, and honorable, and good.” Connor placed his right hand there, too, and she couldn’t help but notice their hands overlapped slightly.
“I love you both so much. I think this gift you have just given me is the greatest gift any woman could receive, ever.”
“You’re the one bestowing the gift,” Connor said. “I never could have believed that I’d find an angel like you to love me.” He leaned over her and kissed her lips lightly.
“I’ve waited all my life for you, Emily Anne Bancroft. I don’t need to win the lottery. I have you.” Mel leaned over her and kissed her almost exactly as Connor had done.
“Then have me. Take me. Both of you. I need to feel you both inside me at the same time. I need us to be one.”
Above her, the two men she loved beyond all reason, the two men who completed her, met each other’s gaze for just a moment.
And then they moved.
Together, they got to their knees and reached for her. Lifting her, they swept the robe off, tossing it to the floor.
With hands and mouths, they ignited her passion. They discarded civilization as fluidly as they discarded her robe. Words had no place here. Here, the language spoken was simple, sweet and pure—and that language was love.
Her men achieved sublime eloquence in their expression of that language. Emily Anne gave herself over to them, meeting their lips with her own, returning loving caress with loving caress. Each of her hands proved greedy in claiming her mates. She fisted their cocks, completely amazed they each had already donned a condom. The significance of that, of their sharing that intimacy before they’d even awakened her, humbled her. Not only words. No, her men would give her not only their words, but their deeds, as well.
Kisses long and sultry interspersed with kisses short and hot. Passion bloomed, unfolding like the most rapturous rose. She bowed off the bed as lips suckled her nipples and fingers delved between her dewy folds.
Their fingers moved inside her, fucking her, sending her arousal out of control. Mel slid down her body and replaced his finger with his mouth. Emily Anne cried out as she went over the precipice, as her orgasm cascaded through her.
“More.” Not a plea but a demand, and one her lovers obeyed instantly. Mel kissed his way up her body. He reached for her, and she felt Connor’s hands on her as well, turning her, lifting her.
She straddled Mel, reached down and placed his magnificent cock right where she needed it. Sinking onto him Emily Anne groaned, totally enraptured with the sensation of his girth going deep into her cunt.
The feeling of having him inside her shivered through her, feminine pride and arousal braided together as a single new sensation, one that burned rich and hot and full inside her.
She was woman, beautiful, confident, sexy, loving her men, capable of giving them pleasure and satisfying them both.
Mel threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her closer. His lips fastened on hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in the same cadence that his cock thrust in her cunt.
She broke their kiss, sitting up, her smile wide as euphoria swept her. That emotion spread to every part of her being. Never again would she doubt herself or her worthiness.
Never again.
Connor stroked her back, and when he pressed, she understood his unspoken command, and laid her head on Mel’s chest. Mel wrapped his arms around her, a sweet, short embrace. Then his hands caressed her, hair to ass.
His hands grasped her ass cheeks and gently pulled them apart, and then she felt Connor’s slick fingers there, the lube thick and cool as he prepared her for his cock.
Connor moved closer, and she made a sound of delight in her throat as he pressed two fingers into her. She didn’t understand why the burn and the sting of that fed her arousal. She was just grateful that it did. She pressed back against his fingers, and then moved forward, pressing down on Mel’s cock.
“Easy, now.”
Two words, whispered, filled her heart. This man—these men—would always be careful of her, respect her and protect her. As Connor moved closer still, as she felt the heat of his latex-covered cockhead replace his fingers at her anus, she gave herself to them both with no reservations whatsoever.
Connor pressed, and she felt her rosette slowly open, felt his cock breech her sphincter and then slide ever so silkily into her to the hilt.
Full, stretched, the sensations made her gasp and moan and shiver in pleasure. Breathing deeply, she was grateful that Connor and Mel both h
eld still within her, giving her a few moments to adjust. Then they each flexed, a very intimate kind of greeting, she thought. She could do nothing but return the salutation, contracting her pelvic floor muscles. Both of her lovers—both of her husbands—made inarticulate sounds that told her they both felt, and enjoyed, that.
Emily Anne found she needed the words after all. “Oh, God, yes. Yes. We are one, can you feel it? Please, oh please, my loves, celebrate with me. Please, fuck me.”
* * * *
Connor closed his eyes as he sank, balls deep, into Emily Anne’s ass. He’d never experienced anything so lush, so completely sensuous as this. It was all he could do not to thrust blindly and grab for his own completion.
The concept of this moment being sacred echoed through him, underscored by the words Emily Anne had just said. They were one, one unit, one family—one flesh, and by God, one heart. How could he not have understood that before? How could he have let thoughts that didn’t matter one good damn get in the way before?
Her demand to them, to fuck her, still rang in his ears and oh, how easy it would be to lunge and give her what she said she wanted.
But he wasn’t the only one inside his woman. He had to check with her other husband.
“Mel?”
“Fucking A, man.”
Connor’s strangled laughter must have reminded Mel that wasn’t what he was asking.
“Okay, sorry. But nothing has ever felt this fantastic.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He felt Mel struggle and understood he was trying to rein himself in, just as Connor was.
“Precious?” Mel stroked Emily Anne’s hair and she looked at him. When Connor knew his partner—his brother—could see her face, he began to move in her. Measured and slow, he eased almost all the way out, then back in again. Once, twice, three times.
“More.” Her voice sounded sultry enough to make him come all by itself. “More, more more!”
“You are so getting spanked.” Connor’s words came out with bitten-off laughter. “Angel eyes, you keep pushing our limits.”
Love Under Two Private Dicks [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 29