“How many men have you fucked?” Kit wasn’t about to let this go.
She blinked. How dare he embarrass her in front of his sister!
Kemper stood beside her then. “Don’t answer that.”
“I’m not going to,” she assured him firmly. “If you planned to issue job applications and interview applicants for your bed, then you should’ve handed over the paperwork before I experienced the pleasure of your company.”
“I think I should go,” Morgan said, finally standing.
“Sit down, Morgan,” Kit demanded, immediately redirecting his attention toward Holly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Morgan acted like she didn’t know whether to stay or leave.
“You figure it out,” Holly replied, pushing by him.
“I said I want you out!”
She nodded her head toward Kemper. “If he tells me to leave, I’ll go. Until then, this is my home as much as it is yours.”
“Like hell it is!” Kit called out behind her.
“Talk to your attorney, Kit,” she sang, thinking her remark would send him reeling. “When you moved me here and you insisted that I sell my residence in Nashville, I became your common-law wife.”
“My what?”
“You heard me,” she said flippantly. “Now, I’ve got to run along. I’m meeting some friends at the club and then we’re shopping on your plastic. My treat.”
Before he could object, or steal away with her credit card, she slipped inside the house and locked the door. Waving at them through the window, she hurried away. She had men to see and money to spend. Well, scratch the men.
The two best fellows in the South were right there at home. She wasn’t about to lose them without putting up one hell of a fight.
Chapter Three
“Did you fail to read the e-mail I forwarded you?” Kit asked, taking a gulp from his water bottle before shuffling through cattle orders scattered across the glass-top patio table.
Morgan slipped away out of sight without so much as a wave good-bye. Kemper was glad she didn’t stick around to hear their brother’s rant. Later, Kit would probably live to regret his tantrum. “Answer me. Did you see the forwarded text?”
“I saw it,” Kemper replied.
“She was a hooker.”
“No, she was a professional escort.”
“Same difference.”
“I think she danced at the club more than she turned tricks on a street corner.” A beat later, he said, “From what I read there, Kit, she was more or less going home with clients. I don’t think she worked for a pimp.”
“What?” Kit screeched, tossing aside a feedlot bill. “You act like this is somehow okay!”
“Did I say that? No. All I’m saying is that I think Holly spent more time giving lap dances than puckering up for blow jobs on Kitty Kat Alley.”
“I should hope so!”
“I don’t know,” Kemper taunted him. “Come to think of it, that lap dance I enjoyed the first night we met was so intense, I wanted to break the house rules, unzip, and slide right in.”
“Well, seeing as we’re housing a woman who’s been around the block, I don’t think she would’ve objected to the advances if you’d decided to penetrate her in public.”
Kemper liked that idea. In fact, they’d never performed in front of an audience, and public sex acts appealed to him. Exhibitionism had always been one of his dirtiest hard-core fantasies.
“She could’ve slept with hundreds of men for all we know.” Immediately, Kit somewhat retracted his statement. “Then again, maybe she didn’t fuck that many fellas.” He bowed his head and looked ashamed of himself.
“She may have been a little loose at one time, but who cares, Kit? I mean, really? We weren’t taking her home to momma.”
“That’s because we don’t have a mother anymore, you moron!” Kit yelled.
“We never had one to speak of best I remember,” Kemper reminded him. “Why are you being so rough on Holly anyway?”
“I’m not,” Kit replied. “I’m encouraging her to leave so I won’t tear her down.”
“Hmm,” Kemper drawled. “What a nice parting gift. If she goes quietly, you’ll let her walk away without ripping apart her self-esteem. Imagine that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you want me to say it?”
Kit’s nostrils flared.
“Fine,” Kemper said, thinking it was about time he told Kit how his actions often caused a whirlwind of events. “You and your unreasonable expectations pushed one woman out of this house once. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”
“I never shoved Morgan away. She chose to leave here. Besides, this is different. We’re talking about Holly. She’s in our bed. Morgan was the kid sister we tried to protect from everyone else.”
“Yeah and look how well that worked out,” Kemper told him, rolling his eyes. “She ended up in bed with our two best friends.”
“With pals like Blake and Grant, we sure don’t need enemies,” Kit said, his nose twitching as he resisted a smile.
“Look on the bright side,” Morgan said, returning to the patio without a moment to spare. “If you had a team of best friends, they’d all be invited to the party.”
“Party, hell,” Kit grumbled. “A trio isn’t exactly a big shindig in my book.” He winked at Morgan. “When are you gonna move in with Grant and Blake anyway?”
“As soon as they ask me, but don’t tell them I said that. I want the idea to be their own.”
Kemper snickered. He’d love to tell his kid sister that her fellows were already working on a plan to sweep her off her feet once and for all. Instead of blowing the whistle and ruining their surprise, he asked, “What do you think about Holly anyway?”
“Holly?”
“Yeah. You know the one. She stands about an inch or so shorter than you, has big boobs, long auburn hair, big boobs, high cheekbones, and did I mention the boobs?”
“Yes, Kemper, I caught the part about Holly’s large chest.” She tilted her chin toward Kit. “So he’s pissed at her I take it?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Kemper informed her.
“What’d she do this time? I mean outside of spending the money she thinks you’ve already earned.” She fluttered her eyelashes. Apparently she hadn’t missed a beat. Without a doubt, she knew exactly what tied Kit’s briefs up in knots.
“About that,” Kit said, focusing on the source behind Holly’s unlimited spending and enormous bankroll. “Since when do we put our women on a ten-thousand-dollar monthly allowance?”
“We always gave Morgan about that much.”
Morgan arched a brow. “Uh, I think not. My check was missing a zero, maybe two.”
Kemper grinned. “What can I say? I’m pussy whipped.”
“Anything but that,” Morgan grumbled, waving her hand as she started toward the stables. “I’m gonna feed the horses and then head out.”
“Where are you off to?” Kemper asked, forever worried one slip could set Morgan way back. She’d come a long way in beating her meth addiction, but part of the reason she’d overcome her dependency was because Grant and Blake forced her accountability.
“Don’t worry,” she replied. “Grant is waiting down by the barn. We have a lunch date.”
“Where?” Kemper asked.
“I’ll never tell,” she replied, giggling.
After she departed, Kit said, “That means they’re doing the nasty in a public place.”
“I figured as much,” Kemper remarked. “One of these days, the locals will kick this family out of Blountville.”
“I don’t worry about that,” Kit said. “With all the drug use in the area these days, the cops have more to do than worry about who enjoys a blow job in a community parking space.”
Kemper shook his head. “Believe me, when I take Holly out to show off in public, I’m gonna want a little more than my cock down her throat.”
Ki
t shuffled some papers. “Then you’d better hop to it. Today is Friday. Take her out tonight and spank her in front of a crowd for all I care, but tomorrow morning, she’d better be out of here.”
“Or what?”
“Or…” He stopped talking and pretended to focus on something of great importance, scanning the document in his hand in an effort to read the same sentence over and over again. Finally, he sighed, perhaps giving thoughtful consideration before providing some cockamamie bullshit reply.
“Or?”
Kit slammed the papers against the smooth surface, flattening his palm against the stack. “Or else.”
“Oh good one,” Kemper teased, shaking his head. “I’ll relay the message to Holly. I’d say that right there—those very words—will scare her into packing her bags tonight.”
* * * *
Holly tossed one shopping tote after another. She swung one high and another one low, attempting to scatter the evidence of her shopping spree across the veranda just in case Kit peered outside the barn office window. She wanted him to think she had a larger stack than what was really there.
Kemper greeted her right after the last plastic sack fell. Slipping a kiss on her cheek, he said, “Save your energy. He’s not over there.”
“Hmm,” she responded, acting as if she couldn’t care less.
“He’s upstairs,” Kemper told her, watching her with wide eyes as if he wanted her to pay close attention to his loaded implication. “He’s in your room, as a matter of fact.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but when she couldn’t think of anything to say, she zipped her lips and grunted. She left the shopping evidence at Kemper’s feet and marched inside.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Kit Keesling?” she called out, stomping toward the bedrooms.
“What’s it look like to you?” he asked as soon as she appeared in the doorway. He tossed her dresses one way, her pantsuits another.
“Let me guess. I don’t give you enough sex so you’re having a panty raid as a new form of punishment?” After a short pause, she clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, that’s it! You’re such a pervert.”
“And your sarcasm leaves a lot to be desired.”
She glared at him like he’d just claimed the number one spot on her ‘men to avoid’ list. “I made myself clear earlier, Kit. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh that’s right,” he drawled. “I forgot. You’re my common-law wife. You’re entitled to certain legal rights.”
She grinned. “You actually called your attorney on that one, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Dumbass,” she said, picking the lint off her red silk shirt.
Kemper stood in the doorway with her bags over his shoulders, forearms, and wrists. His hands were full with a string hanging from eight out of ten fingers. “Where should I put these?”
Holly tapped her chin. “Hmm, let’s see. How about we hang the dresses in your closet?”
“I was thinking the same thing, Holly,” Kemper agreed, following her lead.
“Good,” she said, patting his cheek. “Kit prefers this room so you and I can share yours if that’s okay.”
“As long as you promise to sleep in my arms.”
Without a doubt, she owed Kemper big-time for his support. Her pussy clenched with the thought. She was looking forward to the evening ahead. Kemper earned every stroke of his upcoming reward.
“I promise to leave you with a smile and a very intimate kiss each and every night,” she purred, dragging her fingertips over his moist, full lips. “And don’t let me forget to show you my appreciation as often as possible.”
“I won’t,” he said, looking like a subservient man covered in all the latest styles and fashions.
So maybe that was a bit extreme.
“I don’t want you here,” Kit grated out, acting as if he might mean it.
She studied his face and took a deep breath. Deciding against an argument right then, she traipsed toward Kemper’s room.
“Don’t you turn your back on me, Holly! I’m tired of your games. You made a fool out of me…and Kemper. I…we…don’t appreciate it.”
Kemper snarled. “You leave me out of this.”
Kit cleared his throat. “Holly, you don’t have a home here anymore. Exit this house and find your own way. I’ll offer you severance pay.”
She gulped. Tears threatened to spill from her throbbing eyes as she slowly faced him. Before she grabbed an opportunity to defend herself, Kemper came to her rescue. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I live here, too. I don’t want her here.”
“That’s too damn bad, bro,” Kemper drawled. “She ain’t going anywhere unless I’m with her.” After gathering his thoughts, he added, “The two of you need to grow up. Everyone has a past. I dare say if Holly pried into yours she wouldn’t be too pleased with what she’d uncover.”
Kit gritted his teeth. “Regardless of what she’d find, she should provide truthful answers to my questions. I demand honesty from my subs!”
“Ha! I don’t remember saying I’d submit to you, Kit!”
“Oh that’s right. I forgot. You think submission is beneath you!”
“I’ve never been unfaithful to you, and a tight upper lip doesn’t indicate dishonesty, by the way. It just means I’m a private person. I have a right to guard my secrets.”
“If you respect our relationship, you should want me to know who I have in my bed, hold in my arms!”
“Back off,” Kemper warned. “I won’t tell you again.”
Kit smirked. A slow smile full of malice twisted his mouth into a peculiar expression. “Have it your way. I imagine you’ll do whatever Holly tells you.”
“He probably will,” she remarked, patronizing Kit in an effort to hide her pain. “He takes care of me. You used to do the same.” She placed an open palm over her heart, propped her free hand on the small of her back, and shook her hips like she meant for him to use them. Then, she walked down the hall, following Kemper to his suite. “It’s a shame, really, Kit. You’ll miss out on a whole lot of good loving.”
A few minutes later, the door was slammed. Another five or ten, and she straddled Kemper, shrugging off her top and unclasping her bra.
Kemper took less than a second to shove up her skirt, rip away her thong, and fuck her like he meant to linger awhile. He ground out more than unlimited frustrations, and she matched him buck for buck.
The experience reminded her of mad sex, the kind of screwing a couple used when they needed to fuck but remained pissed at one another. Only as far as she knew, Kemper wasn’t angry with her. Still, the recent dispute obviously upset him.
“Forget about him,” Kemper rasped. “Concentrate on us.”
She rode Kemper’s cock, but couldn’t help but think of Kit, too. If she wanted a man who owned pent-up angst, she was in bed with the wrong brother. Of course, with the Keesling men, there was rarely a wrong brother, per se, but there sure as hell was a stubborn one.
Chapter Four
Holly mounted Kemper again like she meant to ride an untamed stud for a first-place ribbon. Her knees pressed against his thighs as he slid between her damp folds. Rubbing her clit against him, she arched forward, and after reaching behind her back, dropped her hand between his parted legs.
“Fuck me,” he crooned. “That’s nice, Holly.”
Quite carefully, she massaged his tender balls. Stroking his sac with three fingers, she occasionally squeezed the thin layer of skin right above his scrotum.
Hearty sighs fell from his lips. Resounding like a freefall of tumbling waves, a soft, rhythmic, and mesmerizing tempo set a quite different pace, a more romantic beat.
Kemper’s room was one of her favorite places to screw. With floor-to-ceiling mirrors, no angle was left unviewed. She liked observing their shapes as they rotated in tandem.
“This is what you wanted,” Kemper rasped. “I know what you need.
”
“Yes,” she agreed, tossing her head back as he impaled her. Good Lord, there wasn’t another comparable feeling. Nothing trumped good loving.
Kemper clutched her legs as he entered and retreated. He moistened his lips and stared at their body-to-body connection, eyeing his dick as the thickness disappeared inside her pussy. The intense expression on his face, settling in his eyes, made her wetter, hotter. The fierce way he slammed his cock against her walls set fire to her soul, weighting her down with pumping adrenaline and a true need for more eroticism than ever before.
“Let’s have some fun, today, Kemper,” she whispered, insinuating one quick romp wouldn’t quite do the trick. Holding a position with one palm flat against his belly and the other curled around the shape of his nape, she kept her chest low and forward and her back high and straight.
She drew his head closer to her breasts, and he eagerly latched onto her hard nipple. A shard of unmatched pleasure zipped through her body as he pumped his cock inside her.
Kemper’s muscles rippled. His broad shoulders flexed. The outline of masculine flesh inspired her. Oh, how his manly form aroused her.
The fucking was incredible. Sounds of sex resounded. A mix of strawberry and vanilla candles, new flannel and polished leather, created an aroma she associated with home.
Her cunt enveloped him, and she pulsed around his cock. The endless screwing, fast fucking, and numerous sounds of pleasure completely consumed her.
They danced to a lover’s rhythm. Their bodies slapped in time, playing out a well-known sensual song.
She couldn’t turn away from the looking glass as Kemper’s pace quickened. He pounded harder, sank deeper,
His ragged breath provided proof. He gave all he had to give.
Kemper rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. She cried out for mercy, but her insatiable desires drove her actions and her body demanded something more exquisite, a more intimate connection.
Acres, Natalie - Sex Addict [Cowboy Addiction 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 3