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Acres, Natalie - Bridled and Bucked [Bridled 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme)

Page 5

by Natalie Acres


  Blaine was going crazy, and he wasn’t the only one looking for a little more than an eight-second ride. Lantry started pacing. Royce found a different seat, a new vantage point every few minutes, and the other two—Carlisle and Rhett— removed their towels, stepping up to the plate and waiting their turn like they thought everybody had been invited to the party.

  Houston backed away from Lynlee about the time Dallas doused her ass with lubricant. She shivered as the substance was poured down her backside. Dallas spread her cheeks and pressed his groin to her bottom.

  Lynlee arched, awaiting the penetration. She stared into Blaine’s eyes. “I love you.”

  “You’re loved,” he assured her.

  Dallas, instead of impaling her, rubbed his oiled cock over her backside, massaging her back as he moved against her, teasing her. “Come here, sweet Lynlee,” he said, bracketing his arms around her waist.

  Dallas pressed his chest against her back and drew her to him. He brushed her long, blonde hair away from her nape, planting soft kisses over her flesh as he fondled her breasts, pinching a nipple until soft pleas fell from her lips. “Please, Dallas, more.”

  “More what?” he asked, nipping at her lobe. “You have to be direct with me, Lynlee. Tell me what you want or else you’ll be treated like a sub, or possibly even a slave. Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  He chuckled. “Here, sweetheart, let me give you what you want.” He reared back, allowing a little distance between their bodies. Then, his hand disappeared under her.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, her head falling forward, her hair forming a curtain over her face.

  “Is this what you want?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she rasped. “I need something better, stiffer.”

  “Vixen,” Dallas grunted, his arm jerking as he added another finger or two.

  “Hell and damnation!” she screamed, leaving Blaine to assume three fingers locked inside her.

  “There, baby girl,” Dallas crooned. “Let’s see if we can stretch that tight space for a few good men, okay, baby?”

  Lynlee’s fingernails dug into the carpet. She twisted and bucked, rolling her hips back and forth until she was literally coming undone, rocking to the left, swaying to the right, pushing up on her palms, and then forming an arc by standing on her tiptoes. Finally, she returned to her knees. “I still need more!”

  Dallas withdrew completely. He swatted her ass a couple of times, using his bare hand. Lynlee yelped and then released a tortured sigh, her eyes proving she awaited the next erotic surprise.

  “I think our girl needs a little more lovin’ tonight. What do ya think, Blaine?”

  Blaine sank to the floor and brought Lynlee’s damp body over his. He swiped the hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll never be the same again if you don’t make love to me.”

  “Now?”

  “Now, Blaine,” she whispered, her lips skimming across his.

  “Sounds like a good idea, doll,” he agreed, gathering her in his arms and standing.

  He carried her to the bed and placed her between Lantry and Carlisle. Lantry squeezed her arm and Carlisle kissed her, thrusting his tongue through the seam of her parched lips.

  “I think you’ll be happier if you always have the right to choose, Lynlee,” Dallas said from the other side of the room.

  They could’ve heard a pin drop as Dallas cleared his throat and struggled with whatever it was he intended to say. “Tonight, this is about you. If I’m ever gonna learn to live with a woman who belongs to more than one man, I have to see what pleases you. Show me how to love you, Lynlee. Show me what you like, what you truly enjoy.”

  Chapter Six

  Rhett couldn’t believe the sudden transformation. It was as if Dallas entered the bedroom one way, with great plans and expectations, and then changed right before their very eyes.

  If he hadn’t heard Dallas with his own ears, he just wouldn’t have believed it. Dallas McCain wasn’t a big teddy bear of a man. He certainly wasn’t the romantic type. At least Rhett didn’t think so. He couldn’t say from personal experience.

  Thank God.

  Rhett moved to the bed. He couldn’t remember a time when Lynlee looked prettier. Her hair fanned around her like a halo, the soft shine glistening in the candlelight.

  He always felt this way when he was with Lynlee. He felt like the devil, like a true sinner, approaching an angel with one goal—to see how quickly he could corrupt her for his pleasure.

  Lowering himself to the bed, Rhett was so focused on Lynlee, on being one of the first to love her tonight that the shots fired in the distance barely registered.

  “What the hell was that?” Austin yelled, going to the window.

  “Sounded like a car backfired,” Dallas said, cradling Lynlee’s head in his lap.

  Another round of repetitively fired shots resounded. This time, there was no mistaking what they heard. Lantry jumped up, ran for the closet, grabbed a pair of pants—that were obviously too big for him—and retrieved a gun hidden under the nightstand.

  “Fuck!” Lantry screamed, glancing out the window and then looking over his shoulder. “We’ve got company. Some crazy-ass lunatic is down there firing at the house!”

  Everyone scattered. Blaine grabbed Lynlee. He hurried into the bathroom with her small form tucked under his arm. Seconds later, he slammed the door.

  Lantry pointed toward the closet. “Austin, grab some clothes for Blaine and Lynlee.” A beat later he said, “Hurry up! The rest of you get dressed. Look under the nightstands in all the bedrooms and collect a few weapons. Let’s see what this fella wants and make sure he understands whatever it is, he won’t find it here!”

  * * * *

  A shot was fired into the bedroom, and the bullet whizzed by Lantry’s ear as shards of glass crashed to the floor. Pissed, Lantry used the butt of his pistol and knocked out the rest of the glass panes. “Hey! You down there! How’s it going, friend?”

  He ducked to the side as a spray of bullets filled the area. With his back to the wall and his head pressed against the windowsill, he motioned for the others as they ran by the door. “Pick a room. Start shooting. This guy has a death wish.”

  Lantry rose to his feet, shot off a few rounds from his automatic and fell to the floor again. “Blaine! Whatever you do, don’t come out here. You and Lynlee take cover in the garden tub!”

  “We’re there!” Blaine called out.

  At least one McCain thought with the right head in times like these. He balked at that. No, that wasn’t true. Given their current predicament and how they left themselves wide open to an attack like this, none of them had a lick of sense.

  “McCain!” someone bellowed. “I ain’t leavin’ here without Blaine McCain’s wife. You hear me?”

  “I hear a lot of babbling from a lunatic. That’s what I hear!” Lantry cried out, standing up to take advantage of his elevated position.

  About the time fire was returned, a holster was tossed his way. Rhett darted by the room, sprinting down the hallway. “Thank me later!”

  “You bet,” Lantry said, hoping they could pat one another on the back sooner than later.

  Lantry dug in his front pocket for a cell phone only to realize they’d been so eager to fuck their willing little vixen that he didn’t have his phone on him. He looked down at the denim jeans he wore only to realize they weren’t his. Shit! Now what was he supposed to do?

  “Blaine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You got a phone in there by chance?”

  “Sure,” Blaine drawled. “I stored my pocket model up my ass before I joined the party in progress.” A beat later he said, “Hell no! We’re sitting ducks in here!”

  Shit.

  “Lantry, you okay?” Carlisle asked, poking his head inside the large room.

  “Yep. You?


  “Sure enough.”

  “Get the trips and head downstairs. Somebody has to cover the entrances. We left this damn place unlocked.”

  “Fuck!” Carlisle yelled.

  “Yeah, buddy. That’s what got us in this predicament in the first place.”

  Carlisle peered around the bedroom door. “Do you think, for once, you could hold off on the joking around? We have a slight problem on our hands in case you haven’t noticed.”

  A bullet flew by Carlisle’s shoulder and he ducked out of sight.

  “Are you hit?” Lantry called out.

  “Hell no,” Carlisle responded. “But I am pissed. See you downstairs in a minute.”

  “I hope so,” Lantry grumbled, gripping his piece and preparing to look outside again so he could fire upon the enemy.

  “McCain? Lantry McCain, is that you in there?”

  “Yes, sir.” Lantry gripped his gun, ready to take a shot if he had one. “Do I know you? Did I piss you off somewhere down the road? Did I fuck your wife? Your momma or maybe an older sister?”

  “Very comical, McCain!” the voice shouted back. “I told you why I’m here. Send your brother’s wife out here and me and my buddy will call it a day.”

  “You might as well kick up your feet and stay awhile then, asshole. We’ve got all night to sort this out and I can promise you—Lynlee McCain will not be coming out there to negotiate the terms.”

  “You may change your mind, McCain!”

  “I ain’t the wishy-washy type, man. I wouldn’t count on that happening. The best thing you can do at this point is grab your friend and get out of here. And you’d better do that before you piss me off!”

  They exchanged fire. Bullets pelted the bedroom wall.

  Lantry stared at the holes. He took a deep breath, shot off another round, and slumped against the wall again. Damn it to hell! He was mad! He was damn furious, sure enough. He was returning fire with a complete idiot with rotten timing who chose to sneak through their gates and fire into a house full of men who apparently couldn’t hit the broad side of a blasted barn if they tried!

  “McCain! I’m only gonna tell ya one more time. Send the girl out! Now!”

  “Or you’ll what?”

  “I’ll send this man here straight to hell where he belongs!”

  Lantry’s heart stopped. He gripped his gun and eased away from the wall. His gut told him not to look. His head also reminded him why.

  He knew. God help him he realized before he peered around those draperies who he would find standing below him. He pursed his lips and said a prayer.

  “Are you still with me up there?” the voice cried out.

  “Hold your fire!” Lantry shouted over his shoulder.

  Blaine opened the bathroom door. “Do you have everything under control?”

  “Get back,” Lantry snapped.

  “What is it?”

  “Get the fuck back!” he screamed, shaking his forefinger firmly in his youngest brother’s direction.

  Lantry stood in the window, realizing what he would inevitably find. Good God, after years of fighting worthy opponents, had it all really come down to this?

  “There you are, McCain!” the assailant taunted, holding a megaphone to his lips. “Now then, about the girl, what’d ya say we make an even trade?”

  * * * *

  Carlisle’s heart was in his throat. “The bastard has a gun to Dad’s head.”

  “What?” Austin screeched, clutching a pistol at his side.

  Dallas went pale. “When did Daddy Cattlebucks get here? I didn’t even know we were expecting him today. Hell! I didn’t even know they were back in town.”

  Carlisle shook his head. “Mom isn’t. Dad flew home to take care of some business. Lantry had been trying to reach him all afternoon because Mom called and said she hadn’t heard from him.”

  The exchange of gunfire had long since stopped. Carlisle hurried upstairs with Royce, Rhett, and the triplets on his heels. Lantry placed his finger over his lips when he saw them. He pointed toward the door and shook his head.

  Like they would even consider handing Lynlee over to a lunatic.

  Lantry held up his palm and tried to deter them. Carlisle understood why but he went to the window anyway, standing to the side so he wouldn’t give anyone with a trigger-happy finger a clean shot. Lantry acted as if he expected to watch their father die in front of them. Carlisle wasn’t about to let Lantry stand there without backup, without an extra gun if he needed one.

  “Dad? You doin’ okay down there?” Lantry called out.

  “Fine, son. You?”

  “Doin’ great,” Lantry said, upbeat as always. “Trying to figure out how you got yourself in this mess though. It’s a slight inconvenience.”

  “You don’t say!”

  “Well, ya know, we were sort of having a quiet evening at home, trying to enjoy some alone time with the little missus. And then here you are, doing your dead-level best to mess this up for us.”

  “Sorry about that, son. I was tied up with a physician earlier today discussing a recently solved cold case.”

  Lantry shot Carlisle a sideways glance. “Did you hear him?”

  “Of course I heard him.”

  Lantry grunted. “This guy is a copycat. He’s one of the Beaches and Lakes Serial Killer’s protégés.”

  “How’d you get that?” Carlisle asked.

  Lantry shook his head. “I don’t have time to explain.” A beat later, he pointed toward the triplets. “Hurry up. Get downstairs. Go room to room and don’t split up. These guys who wanted to be like Lee Marks don’t travel alone. This creep already told us he had a friend with him. He may have two. Find them.”

  Lantry returned to the window. “Lynlee is in the shower. She has that blasted radio up so loud, we’re gonna have to give her a minute. Any chance you wanna come in for a bite to eat?”

  The evil sound of wicked laughter filled the megaphone.

  “I didn’t think so,” Lantry muttered, eyeing Rhett. “Get another gun. You and Blaine cover Lynlee and don’t come out until I come in there to get you.”

  Rhett hurried out of the room, returned faster than he left, and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

  “What are you thinking, Lantry?” Carlisle asked.

  “There’s only one way to do this,” Lantry said. “This guy has something to prove. He came here with death on his mind. He realized when he drove through our gates, somebody was going to die tonight. Naturally, since he’s a killer’s protégé, he’d prefer to kill Lynlee, the one victim to escape Lee Marks.

  “Lynlee is the ultimate prize. She was untouchable after she escaped Lee Marks. She survived the world’s most notorious serial killer so these guys who’ve taken up Lee’s objectives, his killing game, want Lynlee. They took Dad in hopes of making a swap but we have a slight problem there, too.”

  “Dad was responsible for bringing down Marks?” Carlisle asked.

  “Exactly,” Lantry said. “And if we don’t get out there and stop this guy, he will kill Dad.”

  “Then we have to kill him first,” Royce said. “And I’m the only one who can make the shot.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lantry had some training in negotiating hostage situations, and he sucked at coaxing criminals. He’d almost gotten a few hostages killed because he didn’t talk things through. He didn’t like to wait things out, at least not in his professional life. He was the kind of guy who expected to get his way, and when he saw that wasn’t going to happen, he became a real hothead.

  At least he knew where his strengths and weaknesses were and where they merged, which, at times could be an asset. Consolidating his strong points with those less desirable attributes might save his father.

  Royce had become quite the marksman since they’d moved to North Carolina. He’d made nice with a couple of good ole boys who were ex-snipers for the military. He was right about one thing. He was the only one who could make the shot.
r />   Lantry might be able to take one, but Lantry wasn’t about to try, for two reasons. First, if he missed, he could shoot his father instead of the asshole who deserved one between the eyes. Secondly, while Royce had a scope on the guy, Lantry intended to walk right up to the sorry son of a bitch, introduce himself properly, and then take him out himself…with his bare hands.

  After buying them a few minutes, Lantry slipped inside the bathroom. That was his first mistake. Blaine and Rhett were having a fine and dandy time with Lynlee, who was pitching one of her notorious fits.

  “You have to let me try and help save your father,” Lynlee pleaded, gripping his arm. “He’s like my father, too, damn you! I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “Like hell you can’t,” Lantry said, prying her fingers away from his sleeve. Facing Blaine and Rhett, he said, “There is nothing in the relationship handbook that says you are supposed to tell the woman in your bed every blasted thing that goes on behind her back.”

  “McCains don’t have secrets,” Lynlee told him, straightening her shoulders. “And McCains stick together. How do you think you’ll save your father if you walk out there without me?”

  “We didn’t have to tell her anything, by the way,” Rhett said. “It’s amazing what a person can hear when someone is in the next room, screaming at the top of their lungs.”

  Lantry snarled. “Lynlee, this isn’t open for discussion.”

  “Have it your way,” she said, crossing her arms and settling her hips against the counter.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lantry asked, lifting a brow.

  “You’ll see,” she said, smirking.

  Lantry liked Lynlee’s smile. He loved to hear her laughter. What he didn’t like was her smug smirk. That always meant trouble, and typically when Lynlee and sarcasm collided, things became quite complicated.

  Trouble wasn’t far behind.

  Lantry took a deep breath and exhaled, his cheeks filling with hot air. He turned to Blaine and said, “If that guy wasn’t bluffing, someone else is here with him. The others are trying to find his backup. The two of you will stay here with Lynlee until I come back for you. Got it?”

 

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