Evernight Publishing ®
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Copyright© 2015 Allyson Young
ISBN: 978-1-77233-226-1
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WINNERS
Marking Time, 3
Allyson Young
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
“What’s that … mark on your butt cheek?” Sinclair’s tone of voice indicated that she knew, and was both intrigued and shocked.
Candy swiveled her head to one side and arched her back to stick out her ass, but despite how voluptuous her bottom was, she couldn’t really see the impression she knew her best friend was referring to, the one she’d admired herself in the bathroom mirror earlier that day. She took pride in the marks Reece gave her, and didn’t much care if people judged her for it. Not that it was something she’d overtly share. She had waited a long time to connect with her Sheriff again. Once again she blessed Reece’s determination to reconnect, despite her equally determined efforts to dissuade him. Not that she’d have imagined handcuffs being involved!
Still, her other cheeks suffused with color, if the heat rising up her neck was any indication. How was it that she was embarrassed? After all her sexual shenanigans over the past years, many of which she’d shared in detail with Sinclair, why was she suddenly diffident about talking now? And why was the other woman intrigued? Maybe it was because her best friend had finally roped and tied those two men Sin had been in love with forever.
With a casual air that she hoped belied her churning emotions, Candy reached out and grasped a light robe, shrugging into it to cover up her bra and thong, before sinking onto the vanity seat. Only then did she meet Sinclair’s eyes and answer her—with a question. “I think you know?”
It was her friend’s turn to blush. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. I mean…”
Equilibrium restored, Candy laughed. “Seeing as your guys and mine grew up together and partied some, it makes sense they share some of the same interests.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and she and Sinclair giggled.
With a candid burst of information, Sinclair said, “They blistered my butt when I ran away when they rejected me the first time around. I was humiliated, and it hurt! But it kinda didn’t, too. Like I deserved the punishment, and it freed all my pain and upset, you know?”
“I do,” Candy agreed, no longer smiling. She did understand. Totally. And then she smirked again. “And that caveman approach got you hot.”
Face and neck now a glowing carnation, Sinclair nodded. “Uh huh. And there’s a definite difference between punishment and erotic spankings.”
“You’ll turn into one of those spanko people,” Candy teased.
“Like you won’t.”
The give and take, the teasing, made Candy’s heart swell, and she sighed with contentment. She’d missed her best friend when Sinclair had been away at school, training to become a vet. Now back in the Barrister area to do her field work, Sin was happily involved with both Craig and Ashton Russell, and to judge by her lighthearted demeanor, sweet, virginal Sinclair—the total opposite of Candy—was also content. Okay, not so virginal anymore, but nothing could change the sweetness unless her men screwed her over. And if they did that, Candy would sneak Reece’s service pistol and deal with them both.
Her thoughts immediately fixated on her handsome Sheriff, back home after his discharge from the military, home for her. They’d sorted out that terrible miscommunication and repaired their relationship. Candy frowned when she thought about how her father had interfered, and a twinge of anxiety assailed her when she considered running into her old man. She tried not to grind her teeth, the thoughts about what could have happened spoiling some sexy images of Reece.
“Candy?” Sinclair’s pretty face was etched with concern. “You okay? I didn’t pry?”
With an effort, Candy shook off thoughts of Daddy Dearest. “No, honey. No secrets between us.”
“Well…”
At the uncomfortable look on her friend’s face, Candy returned fully to the present. “I don’t want explicit details. Just want you to tell me, come to me if you have any problems or issues you can’t work out with your guys. I’ll do anything to help you out.”
Sin’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. “I will. Not that I expect any. I mean … we communicate a lot. We have to. A threesome is new to me if not to them, and despite us living together when we were younger, there’s still lots to learn. Between adults and all. There’s things I…”
As Sinclair petered off Candy bit back a snicker. It was glorious not to feel one iota of envy. Reece was back, and in her bed—his bed, actually—and all was right in her world.
“Do you want some help?” Her friend gestured toward the kitchen, and as if on cue, a savory hint of dinner wafted into the room.
“Nope. Reece got everything ready this morning, and all I had to do was put it in the oven per his instructions. I set the table already.”
“You got yourself a man who cooks. And in the kitchen, too.” Sinclair wiggled her eyebrows in a poor imitation of Candy’s earlier attempt, and once again they cracked up.
When she could speak again, extremely amused at her friend’s sexual innuendo, and reflecting how hot sex with two experienced men could change a person, especially when that hot sex involved love and total commitment, she said, “Oh, Reece definitely has the market cornered when it comes to having all kinds of skills.”
Before Sinclair could respond, a low, sexy drawl interrupted them. “Girl talk?”
“Reece!” Candy flew into his arms, relishing the way they closed around her, all sinew and muscle, holding her close against his broad, well-developed chest. He smelled like Reece—healthy male sweat, and hints of his soap. Her whole body thrilled, and she unkindly wished Sinclair hadn’t come over early to help get dinner ready. You asked her, twit. She didn’t deliberately cock block. Or was that puss block?
As if reading her mind, her friend eased past them and headed toward the kitchen, calling back over her shoulder. “I’ll check on dinner. Open the wine and stuff. Craig and Ash will soon be here.”
One of Reece’s big hands released its hold, and his arm relaxed. The bedroom door shut, and then both of those hands were under her robe, tugging it open, freeing her bra and finally cupping her breasts in that oh-so-familiar, yet deliciously new manner.
“Thought about these all day, pushing paper and dealing with all that administrative crap.” His voice was husky with desire, and she tipped her head back for his kiss. As always, his touch drove everything else out of her head, a welcome change from continually being on her guard against him.
When he broke the lip lock and she could take a full breath, she teased, “Thought only about those?”
With a sexy laugh, Reece responded, “The whole package.”
She ran a hand over his jaw. “Craig and Ash will be here soon. You gonna shave?”
“I thought you liked my scruff.”
The memory of his whiskers against the soft skin of her inner thighs made her shiver in an entirely palatable way. “Leave it,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.” His dry acceptance brought color back to her cheeks. She could feel the heat. Reece gave the orders in the bedroom, and she loved it. It was
when he overstepped outside of the sexual intimacy that she tended to bristle.
Freeing herself from his hold, she stepped to the closet where her dress hung, a modest little number in a pretty shade of blue. As she hooked up her bra, she felt Reece watching her every move and gave her hips a little extra sway.
“Asking for it, darlin’.”
“Always.” And she slipped on the dress before toeing into the matching heels, then eased past him and out the bedroom door. The tension would build for the rest of the evening, and culminate in another round of hot, exciting sex with their brand of kink. He might smack her ass for teasing him. Lord, she loved the man. And not just for his physicality. Reece Murdoch was a more mature, grown version of the boy she’d fallen for all those years ago—solid, stable and smart. Incredibly handsome and built didn’t hurt either.
****
Running his palm over his jaw, tracing the same path Candace had outlined, Reece decided to shave while he showered. She tended to make gentle suggestions like that, and her frisky foray into giving him an order was mere foreplay for what lay ahead. But it was their first meal with guests. It was important to her, and he’d do anything for his little miss. His cock, already hard from that embrace and kiss, twitched against his zipper, and he grimaced. It was going to be a long evening but worth it at the end. He’d make up for those small friction burns with other stimulation. He’d brought her a little something for later, and he dug the packet out of his pocket, placing it into the top drawer of his nightstand. His. And hers. God, he’d despaired of ever getting that woman back in his bed, and then to learn what her father had done...
Heading for the attached bath, he stripped off his shirt and thought about the confrontation he’d had with Candace’s daddy. The one that might lead to an upcoming meeting between her and her father. Oh, he’d be there, too. She could lead the conversation, but he’d have her back. Always.
Emerson Grant didn’t deny his actions, or attempt to rationalize. In fact, he’d shrugged when Reece put it out there.
“I kept my end of the bargain, Grant. I left Barrister, gave Candace six months to consider her feelings for me, made something of myself. All the things you insisted on. And then you let her continue to think I’d walked out on her. Intercepted her mail.” And left Reece despairing of ever touching Candace again.
“I thought it was best for my daughter,” the man had said, but not with any true affection or caring that Reece could determine. “She could do better. I thought it then, and I think it now. But she seems to feel differently.”
“Candace doesn’t want to hear your name, let alone see you again.”
“Unfortunate,” Grant had murmured, but this time there was something behind the impassivity.
It was the man’s wife who’d stepped up, although Reece suspected it wasn’t from some kind of newfound maternal feeling. Nope, Roslyn was worried about something, and he had no clue about her agenda. But Reece didn’t like to think Candace was losing out on family, on any kind of connection, and he’d have moved heaven and earth to arrange a détente, if it meant something positive for her. So his job was to support her through any kind of reconciliation or ensure a clean, safe break. He didn’t trust his future father-in-law at all. There were the stepbrothers to consider. He knew them, although hadn’t connected in years, but to his knowledge they’d treated Candace okay, even if they were favored by her daddy. Not for the first time he wondered how it was that all the money in the world hadn’t made for a good family life. His family had had nothing, and while they were now scattered across the country, they were still close. In fact his mom was getting anxious for a visit, having accepted his news about Candace with approval.
He’d been abrupt with Roslyn, but didn’t close any doors. “I’ll talk with Candace, Mrs. Grant. If she wants to meet, I’ll set something up.”
And so it had gone. Reece pulled off the rest of his clothes and cranked on the shower. He stepped in and washed quickly and efficiently, before whisking his razor over his five o’clock shadow. Candace hadn’t used the blade on her legs or any other body parts, because he didn’t draw blood. Shit, he’d gladly bleed for her, share his toothbrush, anything. It was probably that kind of intensity that convinced his little miss to agree to meeting with her daddy, although she’d exhibited that feisty side while they’d discussed it, the one that had drawn him to her in the first place.
Dressed in a pair of black jeans and a long sleeved black shirt, he grimaced ruefully at the picture he made as he folded the cuffs back. Man in black. Well, he was no white knight, but Candace made him feel that way. He swore his heart hitched a little, dead center in his chest, and he shoved his disgust and rage at her father out of his mind. He’d keep his eye on the prize, his woman with him, in his home. Besides, Candace had lived at her father’s estate, and now she was homeless. It had made sense for her to move straight in with him, although it was nothing like she was used to. Poor little rich girl, and that was a fact.
The bedroom already reflected her—a little bench thing reposed at the low dresser, its top strewn with feminine things. His side of the closet wasn’t yet compromised with women’s clothing, but once she retrieved her belongings from her own place he suspected that would change. A figurine caught his eye, posed on the edge of the dresser, and he made his way over to move it closer to the mirror. It was a beautifully cast statue of a nude man. Wearing a cowboy hat. Lord, the things his woman ordered for that shop of hers. He picked it up and examined it closely. The star badge sculpted dead center in the hat made him blink, and then grin. He hoped his male appendage was as impressive as the Sheriff cast in bronze.
The unmistakable chatter of female voices emanated from the kitchen as he left the bedroom and headed in to the living room. He picked up the remote, deciding to find the game channel before heading to the fridge for a beer. The bell rang as he clicked on the TV and then went to open the door.
“Evening, Reece.” Ashton Russell passed over a twelve pack, and Reece stepped back to allow him entry. His younger brother Craig shouldered past with a wide grin and carefully toted a square pan covered in foil toward the kitchen.
“Sinclair forgot the dessert.”
Reece followed with the beer, leaving Ashton to shut the door, and watched Craig settle the pan on the counter before scooping Sinclair up. She squeaked, but very obviously melted into his arms, and accepted a smacking kiss.
“Missed you, honey.”
“I saw you at lunch,” Sinclair protested, but Reece could see she was teasing. Her pretty face was alight, and she stared at Craig with such warmth Reece wondered if they needed to get a room. He exchanged a glance with Candace, who winked, probably remembering his groping not twenty minutes earlier. He’d seen her at lunch, too.
Ashton tugged Sinclair away from Craig and kissed her soundly while his brother looked on, a smug, satisfied look on his face. Sinclair cuddled against Ash with the same enthusiasm she’d shown his brother. Reece had no issue with any sexual configuration of adults as long as things were consensual, and from what he heard from Candace—and observed—Sinclair most definitely consented to both of these men. When she cast a quick peek his way, he made certain to show his support and approval. The citizens of Barrister and the surrounding area weren’t as likely to be so accepting, but he had faith in the Russell brothers, and he’d do his part to settle folks down.
He’d already checked the laws, and while Sinclair couldn’t legally marry both brothers, the three could live together without legal censure. In his mind that was only a small part of the battle, but he recognized true, committed love when he saw it. Maybe because he saw it reflected back from his inner self each and every day in the mirror—and when Candace looked at him, now they’d worked things out.
“You guys want a beer before dinner?”
Ash and Craig chorused their agreement, and Reece retrieved three cold ones.
Both girls made a markedly similar face when offered a brew, and Candace sli
pped past him to reach for some wine glasses. Her sweet ass grazed the front of his jeans, and he was instantly hard for her, something she was hardly oblivious to if the sly look she sent him was anything to go by.
He watched her head over to the table and pour two healthy servings of the robust red she preferred, offering one to Sinclair. Candy focused on the task as she did everything, and he figured he could watch her graceful movements forever. Ashton cleared his throat, and Reece dragged his gaze to meet the other man’s eyes. Both Ash and Craig were visibly concealing smiles, but he read the same thing on their features. Whipped, the three of them—and it was fine.
She straightened one of the platters gracing the center of the table, the beef resting as he’d directed. “I think everything’s ready.”
“The game’s starting shortly, Candace. We gonna eat here or in front of the TV?”
A slight narrowing of her eyes told him everything he needed to know, and he hustled to hold her chair for her. Craig and Ash nearly fell over one another getting to Sinclair, and they were all settled at the table in short order.
Reece carved the roast and reveled in the feeling of being the head of the table, hosting friends with the love of his life at his side. Candace passed the other dishes, and aside from some muted requests for condiments, the only sounds initially were those of silverware chiming against plates.
“Great meal.” Ashton spoke around a mouthful of beef.
“Reece is the chef,” Candace said, smiling his way. “I don’t have a clue.”
Shrugging, he said, “It was either learn how to cook or eat out or rely on the pity meals of others.”
“Candace can probably figure it out.” Craig shot up in his chair and widened his eyes at Sinclair. “What?”
“You’d better not be slotting women into stereotypical roles, Craig Russell.”
Winners Page 1