“Come on, Kit baby. Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“You don’t wanna know,” he promised, hammering forward, moving closer and closer to his release. The pulsing heat of his semen stung the base of his cock. He thrust inside her evenly, waiting a few seconds between each assault. “Hmm… Nope, you sure don’t.”
“Of course I do,” she whispered against his lips. “I love it when you’re naughty with me.”
“This has nothin’ to do with us,” he grumbled, sitting up, grabbing her around the waist, and tossing her to the bed, tucking her body under his. Why did women find it necessary to discuss a wide range of topics varying from menstrual cramps to those “how do you feel about me” conversations right in the middle of a thrashing screw?
“Ooh, lover, I like it when you’re rough.”
Kit stared down at the lone person who undoubtedly held his heart in the palms of her tiny hands. It was bad enough that he’d received troubling news, information destined to destroy the relationship they’d built, but to acknowledge the reason why the e-mail bothered him, well, that was another beast altogether.
Holly’s pussy pulsed around his thick penis. “Ah, that feels nice, vixen. Like that. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Lips thinned. Eyelashes fluttered. She tilted her head and looked at him like one of those vampires on late-night television might, staring at him too intently. Hell, what was she trying to do—glamour a cowboy?
As her expression softened, her cunt embraced his cock, gripping the rigid length with an unyielding flex. “Resist this,” she stated proudly, squeezing him tighter.
“Hell and damnation!” he screamed.
His battle was lost. His cum jetted through his veins, swirling higher as the first spill pulsed at the crest then spewed through the slit.
Her moves matched his. Their bodies jerked together. “Oh dear God, yes!” Now he felt like he was literally knocking on heaven’s door.
His cum shot forward and quickly filled the condom. Still, he banged her, pounding as hard as he could in order to get closer. Ah damn, he needed to go as far as she’d let him, deeper than he’d ever been. He longed to be part of her, hold her close enough so when their time was over he’d never forget.
Her pulsing cunt pumped his dick as he slid back and forth. He lingered between those slick, heated folds. “Hold still.”
Her eyes were heavy then. She stopped all at once. He shoved his penis inside her again, trying to make the final seconds last as long as possible, for it would be their final lovemaking session.
Images rolled through his head like a movie clip. Various scenarios played out in his mind’s eye as he let her abuse the hell out of his cock.
Shit! He didn’t want to think of her with other men.
He screwed harder.
Fuck! He couldn’t stand to think of another man touching her.
He stamped her again, realizing his own strength had begun to deteriorate.
A sudden sigh fell from his lips. He was barely aware of his vocal release as his cock twitched inside her walls. He shivered against her.
Holly’s palms flattened. She smoothed them across his belly then went after what she wanted most. The woman knew how to make a man work for her pleasure and his, but when she was ready to come, an injunction couldn’t restrain her.
“Oh yes, Kit. Right there! Stroke my pussy for me. Ah, Kit. Keep that hard dick right there. Don’t move. Let me get off! Damn you!”
He clasped her hands and kissed her hard on the lips. The kiss wasn’t passionate and meaningful. It was a mad kiss, a kiss to shut her up so he could finish the job, pull out, and go out to the barn and pout.
A man, especially a cowboy like himself, owned that right.
Holly reached between her legs and played with her clit, manipulating the bud under the pads of her fingers. Her long auburn hair fanned around her tan face and she looked sated. “More, baby. Don’t quit on me. I need a good fucking.”
“You need a good fucking?” he taunted her, pulling out an inch or more.
“Yes, Kit baby. Oh yes.”
“Like this?” he asked, giving her a deliberate poke. He wormed his way inside her hot cunt and squirmed around until he was buried balls deep.
“Exactly. Perfect, Kit. Sweet hell. That feels so nice,” she whispered, dragging her fingernails over his chest and shoulders.
“How about like this?” he asked, pulling all the way out and then feeding her an inch at a time—and he had at least ten there to share. “You like that, honey?”
“No, no, no,” she whined. “I need all of you. Stay inside me and fuck me right, tiger.”
As if he fucked her wrong? Damn, if she didn’t know how to douse the flames enraging him.
Holly slapped her palms against his shoulders. When her hands started propelling every which way, he realized she was close. So close. A man looking for revenge could’ve been a real dick right then.
Of course, he had a lot to lose if he pulled out and let this moment slip away.
“Please, Kit. Now!” She gasped. “I need to come now!”
Hell’s fury. She was impossible to please.
He bit down on his lip. God help him, if he hadn’t needed to get off once more himself, he might have deserted her right then, shown her who was boss and why the women in his bed before her paid attention to the principles he taught.
Then again, past lovers were his submissives. Holly made her demands crystal clear. She was no man’s bitch—a slang term she’d rudely abused whenever Domination and submission was brought up for discussion.
At one time, he planned to punish her appropriately for disrespecting the lifestyle and those anxious to step back into the life. Now, he wouldn’t have the chance.
With the thought, he throttled her again with uneven strokes, working his cock from side to side, tapping her wherever his dick could reach and growing uncomfortable by the full rubber he had yet to shed.
Suddenly, Holly reached her peak. “Right there. Yes! Oh yes! Hmm…perfect! Get off with me!”
As soon as she tightened around him, his balls throbbed. His cock was hot with semen, a flood of his juice building and building. There was something to be said for the second time around.
Violent tremors zipped through Holly’s body. Her orgasm took hold. She gasped and laughed, writhing under the pressure, gripping his arms with a tighter clasp as her nails dug into his flesh.
She bucked like a wild animal as her breasts bounced, and she parted her legs just a fraction wider. He shoved her knees toward her chest and seized her thighs. Grinding against her, he screwed her like a capable man should, taking control and claiming the woman who’d not only betrayed him but also twisted a knife in his brother’s back, too.
Damn her for this unexplainable emptiness brewing inside him. Fuck her for making him want her more than he needed his next sip of air.
Her tight pussy trapped his cock. She flexed her vagina, triggering a multitude of vibrations.
Ah hell! He still wanted her. He yearned for her, and the truth behind his need was frightening. He was afraid of what he’d miss if he didn’t have this!
Her pulsating cunt milked his dick, thrumming as the narrow channel closed around his penis. Sweet sensations traveled over him, and he jerked as he thrust, screwing her with every drop of energy he had left. “God, yeah, Holly,” he muttered, filling his condom to overflow with what should’ve been spilling inside her pussy.
“Right there,” she said dreamily, dragging her long fingers through strands of hair. “We’re good together. Aren’t we, tiger?”
“Shh,” he said, collapsing in her arms, his dick resting inside her. “Give me a minute.”
“A minute is all you may have,” she said, kissing his neck. “I’m in one of my moods again today.”
“I see that,” Kit remarked. When the hell wasn’t she a super freak in bed? Lately, the more sex he or Kemper gave her, the more she demanded from them.
/> “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy me.”
“Then stop acting like you have to fuck around the clock in order to be content,” he grumbled, rolling away from her. With his arm folded against his head, he listened to ragged breathing—hers more than his.
Kit realized what he had to do. The emotional tailspin sent his heart racing faster than the aftermath of sex. He felt used. He had been betrayed, and betrayal wasn’t something he handled well.
Without a doubt, Holly had always been in this relationship for the wrong reasons. She was in it for the money just like every other woman he and Kemper shared in the past.
“What is wrong with you?”
As if she cared. There was no compassion in her voice, nothing to indicate she really wanted to see what was eating at him so they could find the root of the problem and work forward from there.
Kit left the bed. He reached for his pants, took out his cell phone, and slapped the small device against the comforter. “Why don’t you read all about it for yourself? Maybe then you’ll understand why I want you to pack your bags and get out.”
As he stormed away, he made up his mind. He wouldn’t look back. He wouldn’t turn around if she asked him to stay.
Too much was gnawing at him. Too much was driving him insane. Topping the list were nagging questions left unanswered.
What if he were making a mistake? What if Holly wasn’t interested in the money? What if she actually cared for them as deeply as they had begun to care for her?
Hell and damnation. What if she loved them? Worse still, what if those feelings were reciprocated?
He paused at the door. He felt her eyes at his back, that hard gaze raking over his flesh.
It was too late. They were finished. The relationship was over. The damage was already done.
Chapter Two
Holly’s high heels clicked off a hot-temper tempo, a mad-as-hell little feisty beat as she stomped across the concrete. She passed Morgan—Kit and Kemper’s drugged-out sister—and ignored her, convinced she must’ve been the main reason Kit and Kemper pried into her past.
“Hello to you, too.” Morgan’s snide remark chapped her ass, but she didn’t acknowledge her. Bitch.
Holly wondered how much Morgan knew. Had Kit told her about the e-mails? Did she know her former boss accused her of being a sex addict? What a crock of shit that was. A sex addict? For real? Yeah right.
So she liked intimacy. What was the big deal? She tilted her head and eyed the Keesling men. With cowboys like Kit and Kemper, who wouldn’t crave round-the-clock fucking? It wasn’t like she forced them or anything.
Sure, she went to bed with sex on the brain. She awoke the same way and typically stuck her fingers in her pussy as soon as she was coherent enough to start working herself into an aroused state. She climaxed five to seven times a day, but hell, what woman in her twenties didn’t enjoy several orgasms a day?
Her theory about sex was similar to the adage about apples. An orgasm a day kept the doctors away. Sex was a wonderful release. Heck, thanks to ongoing foreplay, she was rarely under stress. At this rate, she’d probably live forever.
Halting in the middle of her stride, she stood there with her arms dropped at her waist. Maybe she should be concerned about her former boss’s accusations. When she stopped and thought about it, she didn’t know many women who actually believed orgasms were similar to other natural preventative therapies!
Besides, since when had she worked to keep a man in scrubs away from her bedside? She grinned at Kemper. She knew the answer right away—since she’d met the two cowboys who’d stormed into her world and turned her life upside down.
She shook off the warm and fuzzy feelings and deliberately ignored the Keesling sister behind her. Morgan dragged a lounge chair across the patio, and the annoying sound of metal scraping against the patio bricks was eerily similar to fingernails raking across a chalkboard. After she towed the chaise across a short distance, Holly finally shot the Keesling sibling a sideways glance.
Morgan looked as smug as a bug in a tightly wrung rug as Holly’s grandma used to say. Apparently, she planned to sit down and enjoy the unfolding drama.
Morgan was an irritating little thing and hard to figure out sometimes. What was she thinking now? Did she believe Holly had an unhealthy obsession with sex like she owned her fair share of drug problems?
Humph, hardly. It wasn’t like she was sticking a cock up her nose or anything. Morgan, from what she’d been told, would do any drug placed in front of her.
Even if Holly needed to slow down on the sex, she wasn’t promiscuous by any stretch of the imagination. She’d had opportunity. She hadn’t pursued her options. Kit and Kemper kept her well satisfied.
She stood in front of them—all five foot four of her—and waited for them to address her. When they didn’t, she released a weighted breath, placed her hands on her hips, and stomped her right foot. “I’m going shopping.”
“Kit here says you’re moving out.”
“No. I’m not,” she deadpanned. “I’m taking off to spend some money.”
Behind her, Morgan snorted. Holly wheeled around and glared at the culprit behind the outburst. Morgan shoved a magazine in front of her face and pretended to read with overwhelming interest what looked like a farmer’s periodical on crop-growing techniques.
Fabulous. The little darling was probably growing marijuana somewhere on the Keesling spread. She started to address the kid sister but decided the effort would prove pointless. Kit and Kemper wouldn’t ask her to exit the premises.
“I could’ve sworn you said she was leaving,” Kemper said.
“Don’t provoke her or me,” Kit warned. “I’ve already explained why Holly needs to reside somewhere else.”
“Oh so you mean, you want me to move out but you’d prefer it if I move, say, down the street?” Holly asked, studying her fingernails.
Kit glared straight ahead. “I won’t meet with a realtor on your behalf if that’s what you think.”
Well, it was worth a stab in the dark to see what he was thinking. There for a minute, she believed he perhaps needed some space and maybe bought her a place a few blocks away. An intrusive thought crossed her mind. Did he want her out of the house to save face? Was he suddenly ashamed of her?
She studied Morgan. The family had certainly endured more than their share of embarrassments.
“Too bad, Kit. This morning, I toured a spacious three-bedroom down by the lake. Someone said the owner is in dire straits. I believe you can pick it up for about a quarter million. It’s a great investment, a super hideaway to tuck away a mistress you don’t want anyone to know about.”
Kemper smirked. Apparently, Kit possessed high standards his brother didn’t share. Either that or her original thoughts on Kit and Kemper were correct. Kemper fell in love at first sight and Kit would never love anyone except himself. If her assumptions were accurate, then she imagined her past stung Kit much more than her history bothered Kemper.
Kit wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of mere strangers touching her. The one time they’d spoken of past relationships, he’d gone pale when she’d told him she was actually in love once.
“I didn’t stutter when I told you to leave,” Kit told her firmly. “I want you out of here before daybreak tomorrow. When I cut ties, I don’t like loose ends so make sure you take everything that belongs to you. Understand?”
He left his poolside chair and strolled toward the terrace doors, imitating a true cowboy’s walk, slow and steady. She followed him, the clickety-click from her high heels alerting everyone around to the obvious.
She wasn’t the kind of woman any man could easily shun.
Behind her, Kemper said, “Oh boy. This should be a barrel of laughs.”
To her left, Morgan lowered her magazine.
“Kit Keesling, let me ask you something,” Holly bellowed.
Kit froze with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not interested in your questions and I�
��m unwilling to provide any answers to your inquiries. If you want money, you’ve had plenty at your disposal while you were here. You’re a smart gal. You should’ve saved for a rainy day.”
She’d done just that in the beginning and cherished her nest egg, but this disagreement wasn’t about the cash she’d tucked away. “I don’t care about material things and you know it, you arrogant ass.”
Kemper stood, easing his way around the patio. She caught his reflection in the glass and wondered why he acted so suspicious. Did he really think Kit could hurt her?
Hell. She wasn’t afraid of a cowboy, especially one with the last name Keesling.
“Did you ever ask me about my past?” she demanded.
“What difference does that make?” Kit asked, shooting her a glare as chilly as his icy blue—and quite beautiful—eyes.
“Well, did you?”
“No.”
“Exactly,” she said, holding her shoulders back and feeling quite satisfied that she’d just made her point. She hurried by him. “Then we have nothing left to talk about.”
As if the devil made him do it, he reached out and snatched her wrist. Once he secured his grip, he pulled her against him. His cold eyes were suddenly on fire, his anger as evident then as his fury had been the day a wild bull kicked him in the nuts.
She still shuddered when she thought about that horrid day. Kit had been so furious he’d taken a gun and used the black beast for target practice. Considering the bull was a prized Keesling possession, thank God Kit was a lousy shot.
“How many?” he demanded.
“How many what, Kit?” she asked, squirming away from him. With a hard jerk, she freed her arm, and he glared harder then, narrowing his eyes on her breasts until she felt certain her nipples spiked under the scrutiny.
Maybe that should’ve been her first clue. If arousal struck at that very moment, something was definitely the matter.
The Keesling men maintained a high sex drive which was part of the reason she initially stayed with them. She’d had instant chemistry with both men. She and Kit were certainly in tune with one another, but this was hardly the time or place to start acting all hot and bothered. Things weren’t looking too swell for the home team.
Acres, Natalie - Sex Addict [Cowboy Addiction 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 2