by Reece Butler
She’d wanted to talk to her sister when they went to the clinic that morning, but Brenda said Nikki was checking over Stella Elliott’s five-year-old son, TJ. Jordan Gibson had dared TJ to jump off the porch roof. Marci decided doing crazy things when told not to must be a male thing.
“It’s chilly out,” she mused. “There’s carrots, parsnips, and onions. I could make a stew if I thawed one of the older packages from the freezer.”
The old telephone on the wall bleated, making her jump. She hurried over, hand on her rapidly beating heart. Too many people knew she was here for her to pretend otherwise.
“Hello? I mean, MD Connected ranch, housekeeper speaking.”
“Marci?”
“Nikki!” She released her breath at hearing her sister’s bright voice instead of that of an accusing officer. “How’s the boy who can’t fly?”
“TJ’s doing fine. What’s funny is that Jordy is Max Gibson’s oldest son.”
“I thought they were all called Max, and were expected to be sheriff when they grew up?”
“Max, I mean the one now sheriff, refused,” explained Nikki. “He said his children could forge their own paths. Brenda said her father and grandfather are just now starting to calm down, and Jordy’s eight.”
“So not all Tanner’s Ford traditions are being kept.”
“The one where two men share a woman seems to be doing fine. And speaking of hot sex, how are things going with Simon? I’d hoped to see you this morning to ask how your plan to seduce Simon went. Brenda said you had the three oldest Adams children with you Saturday night. How can you have hot sex with your cowboy if there’s kids around?”
Heat flashed up Marci’s body. She curled the long cord in her fingers and looked out the kitchen window. She’d missed having Nikki to talk to, but at least now they were in the same area code.
She lowered her voice even though Simon was down the hall. “I jumped him that first night, Nikki. And, oh my God!” Just thinking about Simon had her hormones on overdrive. She pressed her thighs together, wishing there was something between them.
“Tell me about it,” urged Nikki. “Think of it as research in case I have other patients confined to their beds.”
“Two words,” said Marci. “Oral sex.”
“It was good?”
“Wow! I mean, the, um, cowgirl position is great, too, but…” She blew out her breath. “I can’t describe it, Nikki. Just having a man want to pleasure you instead of selfishly taking care of only himself, is wonderful. But knowing what to do, and insisting on making you come again and again…I never knew it could be like this.”
“You’re making me want to bash a guy on the head, tie him to the bed, and blindfold him so he doesn’t know it’s me.”
Marci winced. “Oh, God, Nikki, I’m sorry to rub it in. I’m sure there’s got to be an intelligent, secure man who’ll jump at the chance to give you what Simon’s given me. You’ve only been here for a few months, and you said you’ve been too busy to mingle. You just haven’t met a man worthy of you yet.”
“Thanks, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m just glad that things are working out for you. So”—she pulled the word out into three syllables—”have you forgotten about Ted?”
Marci laughed. “Who? I can’t remember anything because my ears are still buzzing from those masses of orgasms you prescribed for me.” Marci thought back to what else Nikki had said. “And yes, Simon does have magic fingers, a mobile tongue, and a long, hard cock. One of these days I want him to tie me to the bed, and—”
“Whoa! That’s too much detail for my virgin ears.”
“You want less detail, sister, dear? Then yes, Doctor Meshevski, thanks to your prescription I’ve had masses of orgasms, thank you very much.” She laughed. “And I want lots more, but I’ve got to get back to making supper. You did tell me to take care of”—she dropped her voice into a sexy purr—“all of Mr. MacDougal’s appetites. Food and wild sex are on the top of his list. Not necessarily in that order!”
Nikki’s laughter suddenly sounded forced. Marci’s good feeling faded. “What is it?” she asked.
“You got a letter. Or I did, and when I opened it up there was one inside addressed to Mrs. Ted Grant.”
Marci reached for a chair. She hauled it over and fell into it.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“It’s from the insurance agency. You want me to open it and read it to you?”
“No! I mean, I’ll wait until I can get it from you.”
“It looks official, Marci. Are you sure you want to wait?”
“Nikki, I’m finally enjoying myself. It can wait until this”—she waved her hand, unable to express herself—“this thing is over.”
Silence rang across the wire. Marci swallowed hard. She could hear Nikki’s accusations without a word being spoken.
“I’ll let it go for now,” said Nikki. “But you’re going to have to face things soon.”
“I know,” whispered Marci. “But at least I’ll have good memories when I’m in prison.”
“You’re not going to prison!”
“Of course not,” she automatically replied, keeping her voice low. “I was just joking.”
“That’s no joke, and you know it. So stop saying it. Stop thinking it!”
“Yes, Nikki. Look, I’ve got to get going. I’ll pick up that letter the when I’m in town.”
“If you forget I’ll be bringing it out to you. I love you, and you’re all I have.”
“You’re all I’ve got as well. Big hugs.”
She hung up the phone and slumped in the chair. Covering her eyes with her hands, she let quiet tears escape. Just when she thought she could enjoy her life, her past had caught up with her.
* * * *
Simon had hauled himself to his feet when he heard the telephone. He expected Lance, but had come to a complete halt when he heard Marci say “oral sex.” He was damn lucky he hadn’t tripped and bitten his tongue off when his jaw snapped shut. And then she said things about his body that made him very glad his tongue was still working.
To heck with supper, he wanted to show her even more of what his tongue, fingers, and cock could do! He could get on his knees now, and his long, hard cock was raring to prove a few things!
Marci’s conversation with her sister should have been private. But she hadn’t kept her voice down until the end. She’d all but shouted that she wanted more hot sex, as soon as possible. He could do that, but there was more to the conversation. While the two women hadn’t spoken a falsehood, they’d lied by omission.
Okay, Simon, time to regroup. He turned to lean his back against the wall, rather than just one shoulder.
Three things stood out. Sweet, sexy Marci and the Amazon doctor were sisters. Doctor Nikki had set him up with Marci, hoping she’d have sex with him to forget her dead husband. And when Marci said yes Friday night, she’d enjoyed herself thoroughly.
But why did she think she had to keep her identity a secret? Yeah, his first impression of the Doc wasn’t a great one, but hell, he hadn’t been that pleasant either.
He’d known Brenda was up to something that night. He’d never have guessed the two women were sisters. The Doc’s short blonde hair and light skin were different enough. But she was as tall and likely weighed almost as much as he did.
Marci was small and dark and full of life. If the Doc was an ice queen, Marci was fire. And he couldn’t wait for her to take hold of his fuse. It throbbed for her hand—or even better, her mouth.
If she wanted to be tied to the bed, he wouldn’t worry about how she’d take Lance’s domineering attitude. Marci might not want to be spanked, but there were other things he bet she might like to try. Lance would enjoy playing sex games with her. Hell, he’d enjoy it!
He imagined her lying on her back on their king-size bed. There was a reason the iron headboard had bars, as did the footboard. They could tie her wrists over her head and spread her legs wide for easy access
with their mouths and fingers.
Blindfolded.
They’d massage and lick and suck her from toes on up. Then they’d flip her over and start again. By then she’d be begging for their cocks.
Lance was an ass man. He’d want her on her knees, head on the bed, as he took his time stretching her virgin anus with his fingers. Maybe he’d fill her pussy while Simon played with her nipples and clit. Watching her explode in an orgasm they provided would make Simon boil. It would take a while before she could ride him while Lance filled her ass.
Thank God he was wearing sweats. His cock stuck straight out, throbbing as if she’d been sucking him for hours without release. It wouldn’t be going down anytime soon. Not unless a certain woman wanted more of those orgasms.
He step-thumped into the kitchen. Marci was bent over, looking in the fridge. There she was, meeting his two top needs at once. Getting food ready while showing him one of her best assets. Lance would enjoy giving her a few pats on those back cheeks to get her attention. And Simon would enjoy kissing her better afterward. Didn’t matter where. He was happy to kiss her rounded ass, her pussy, her mouth, and everywhere in between. Starting now.
“You’re right,” he said. “Wild sex is higher on my list than food.”
She whipped around and gasped, eyes wide. Her initial shock was followed by a deep blush that rose from below her collar. Her eyes looked red and swollen. Did she miss her sister that much?
“Anytime you want, honey, I’m raring to go,” he added in case she didn’t catch his meaning.
Though her nostrils flared and her nipples popped, she raised her chin in a huff. “Excuse me, but I was having a private conversation with my sister.”
“Ah, yes. A sister named Nikki.” He rubbed his chin, pretending to think. “Now where have I heard that name? Sounds familiar. Could she be the doctor who allowed Brenda to put the wrong cast on my leg? The full leg cast that stopped me from driving and made me need help to get in and out of bed? You were interrupted when you were talking about getting tied to the bed. What was it you want?”
She tried to be brazen, shoving back her shoulders. It pushed her breasts out proudly, so he took a few seconds to admire them. She had to open her mouth to breathe. Her chest expanded, rising and falling quickly. The pulse in her neck throbbed. Yes, Marci wanted an edge to her sex play, though maybe only now and then.
“I have some fantasies,” she declared stiffly. “You heard part of one of them.”
“Any of that involve spanking? Because Lance would be up for it. He’s quiet but if you sass him he won’t take it lightly. He’ll warn you once, but if you push he might get a notion to yank your panties around your ankles and spread you over his lap. He’ll like that heart-shaped butt of yours. “
It was easy to see her instant jump in arousal. She suddenly turned to the stove. She grabbed his favorite cup, a large one from the local feed store, poured in coffee then added the right amount of cream, just the way he liked. She plunked the cup on the table. Some splashed out, but didn’t touch her hand.
“Sit!”
Her headlights were on high beam, those gorgeous nipples pointing right at him. She was up for it, and her anger would add an extra edge. But she had to learn that he didn’t take orders from anyone but Lance. Even if his leg was killing him from standing so long.
“Make it worth my while, sweetheart,” he drawled, crossing his arms.
“Kiss my ass!”
He took his time looking her over. She narrowed her eyes, but the pulse in her throat didn’t lie.
“Good idea. Bring it over here, drop your pants, and show me your sweet cheeks.” He had to hold the edge of the table to lower himself. Otherwise he’d have dropped like a stone.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“May not be what you meant, sweetheart, but it’s what you want.”
She didn’t move, so he sipped his coffee, pretending to be calm. The temperature was perfect so he followed it with a mouthful. He nodded his thanks, keeping his face bland. The Doc had pulled a fast one on him with the leg, but getting Marci into his bed made up for pretty much anything.
“You heard it all?” she asked.
“Nope,” he replied. “Just your half. Kinda hard not to. You faded out at the end. So, Grant is your married name?”
“Was,” she replied abruptly. “Now that you know the truth, I don’t want to hear it again. I’m going back to Meshevski.”
Not for long.
Coming out of the blue, the thought hit him hard. But as he mulled it over, it made sense. Marci would do very well as his wife and mother of their children. A perfect solution to a number of problems, hers and his.
She could keep the initial M, but he wanted her name changed to MacDougal. It made even more sense now that he knew the Doc was her only family. He might swear at the doctor, but people in town had said a lot of good things about her. The men weren’t so sure, but the women really wanted her to stay.
“You don’t want anything to do with your ex?”
“He’s dead, thank God.”
Simon’s brain spun as he put the pieces together. “He died in the fire. The one you barely escaped.”
“Yes.”
She bit her lip and turned away. When she reached for another cup her hand shook. He thought of her scar. A scar caused by, he was sure, a knife.
“Did that bastard cut you?”
Chapter Twenty
Simon gripped the table with both hands, waiting for her answer. She hunched her shoulders and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He heard a sniff. It couldn’t be, but he had to ask.
“Was it an accident?”
She shivered and wiped away tears. He waited, every muscle tight. She shook her head. A rage such as he’d never known erupted inside him. He banked the flames and hauled himself to his feet. Marci needed him. Two steps and he was beside her.
“Let me hold you, baby. Come sit.” He took her hand and led her back to his chair. He hauled her into his lap. She curled up like a child, shaking. Tears poured down her face. What had that bastard done to her?
“He…He…”
“Shh,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “Let all those tears out first. You’ve kept everything in, haven’t you? Tried to be strong to get through the days and nights.”
He let her cry, but it hurt like hell to see her like that and not be able to help. All he could do was give her his handkerchief, a white cotton one he kept folded in his pocket. He’d carried one for years in hopes a pretty woman would need it. It no longer seemed old-fashioned and foolish to do so.
She finally wound down to hiccups. He hated to see her upset. But what could he do, other than…tell her about his own past. Damn. He’d never spoken about some of it to anyone, even Lance.
Especially Lance.
But it was the only thing he could think of. He wanted her to be his wife. And that meant letting her know she could trust him. The only way he could think of was to let his guard down, trusting her enough to speak about his messed-up family.
“My older brother, Fergus, died when I was in college. It broke my mother and father. They’d put so much hope for the family’s future into him.” He bit back a sarcastic laugh. “I was the backup plan.”
He remembered his father pressing a large hand to his shoulder when he was young, but he’d never been good enough for his mother, no matter how hard he tried. As he got older his mother became more strident and his father seemed to shrink. Shortly after he hit high school he gave up all thought of ranching. After all, it was made clear that Fergus, along with his wife and children, would live on the ranch. He and Lance would be told to leave as soon as their labor was no longer needed.
“I guess you know from Brenda that I got into a lot of trouble until I discovered how much I love history. When neighbors came over to jaw with my dad, I’d find work nearby as they talked about the good old days when l
ife made sense.”
The trace of a smile flitted over her face. “Back when there were no blizzards or droughts, no hail or fires, and women put lots of food on the table for the men to eat,” she said.
“You forgot that the price of beef was so high a man never got in debt.” They shared a comfortable smile. “Where’d you hear about that? Brenda?”
“No, Anne Taylor and Ginny McInnes. I had lunch with them.”
“Ginny would know, all right. Sammy and Grant love their food. I think Ginny does as well, since she’s swelling up like a balloon.”
“So would you if you carried twin sons!”
He pretended to wince at her tone, but the thought of Marci carrying his child had him in a knot. He’d heard about the twins. He’d even managed to congratulate them without too big a shard of jealousy stabbing him in the heart.
“Did Fergus die in a farm accident?” she asked.
“Nope. War,” he said succinctly. “He didn’t come back from Vietnam. At least, not alive. By then I’d got myself a history scholarship to the state college and Lance was working about twenty miles away.”
“So you dropped out of college and come home to help?”
“Not quite.”
How much could he tell her? He was not proud of the man he’d been. Sometimes he wasn’t that proud of the one he was now. A warm hand rested on his, then squeezed. He’d changed from the bitter son. He could change again.
“Someone got word to me. I’m ashamed to say I was glad, not for Fergus dying, but for them needing me. I waited a week, but they never asked me to come back.” He didn’t use the word “home.” It hadn’t been, back then. “But I couldn’t let the ranch be destroyed. I quit school, hitched a ride, and showed up at the door. My father barely looked at me. ‘You’re late for supper,’ was all he said. That meant no food until breakfast.”