Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  * * * *

  Kristen knew she was in trouble the moment Dylan wrapped his arms around her. She’d assumed he’d wanted to talk about Brandon, but Dylan didn’t say a word. He just tucked her against the hard length of his body and started moving in a slow circle that was lulling her into melting all over him.

  God but he smelled good and felt even better.

  Kristen couldn’t fight the pull to snuggle deeper into Dylan’s arms. The music, along with the voices raised in conversation, faded away as her world narrowed down to the heady scent of soap and musk, a distinctively masculine scent created to intoxicate a woman’s senses and leave her drooling and too weak to do anything other than sway to the rhythm he set.

  Kristen breathed in deeply and sighed, letting go of her worries and her concerns as she simply enjoyed the moment. It didn’t even dawn on her to object when Dylan slid those big, broad palms of his over the slight curve of her ass and pressed in, leaving her in no doubt as to what he was feeling.

  He was hard, and Kristen knew she should have been scandalized by the feel of his large erection pressing up against her, but right then, she couldn’t work up the energy to do anything more than sigh. Besides, he was hard all over.

  Beneath the soft fabric of his T-shirt, Kristen felt the strong wall of his chest flexing ever so slightly with each slow shuffle of their feet. More than that, she could hear heavy thud of his heart beneath her ear. It matched the pounding of her own.

  It was like a magical web wove around them. That magic shattered with the blare of an upbeat tempo that came roaring out of the speakers overhead, jarring Kristen back to reality. The reality was she was a little too hot.

  Kristen blinked, taking in the world around her to realize that Dylan had danced her over to a dark corner. They were well out of everybody else’s sight, locked in their own private shadows. Those shadows held a tense sense of anticipation as Kristen raised her eyes up to meet Dylan’s.

  He was staring at her as though he was seeing her for the first time, and before Kristen guessed his intent, Dylan latched onto her hand and started dragging her down a dark hall. That brought her all the way back to reality and the realization that she might be in true trouble now.

  “Hey, wait.” She tugged on her hand but only ended tripping over her own feet as Dylan continued to drag her into the darkness. “Where are we going?”

  “To have a long, overdue talk,” Dylan snapped back, sounding upset as he shoved through a door that led straight out into the bar’s back parking lot.

  “Is this about Deputy Hammel?” Because honestly, Kristen couldn’t think of anything else they had to talk about.

  “No.” Dylan spun her around and up against the rough, brick wall and pinned her there with the heavy weight of his own body. Only then did he bother to explain the situation. “This is about us.”

  “Us?” He couldn’t have shocked her more if he tried. “There is no us.”

  “There will be,” Dylan vowed. “And the first thing you’ve got to understand about me, honey, is I don’t waste time asking.”

  “Asking? Asking wh⎯”

  Kristen’s question was cut off by Deputy Singer’s answer as his mouth crashed into hers, stealing the words right from her lips.

  Chapter 11

  Dylan didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he was running on emotion. Emotion and need. Right then he needed Kristen. That didn’t make what he was doing right. It also didn’t mean he wouldn’t get slapped, but he didn’t.

  Kristen’s hands came up, no doubt to shove him away, but as Dylan’s tongue sank into the sweet ambrosia of her mouth, her fingers, instead, curled around his shirt as she clung to him. For a moment, she stood just like that, stiff and uncertain. Then a second later she was melting against him just like she had on the dance floor, and all of Dylan’s control shattered in an instant.

  It left him stunned and weakened, at the mercy of primitive needs that drove him to want more. Like a hot lance, that need seared through him as Kristen’s tongue began to duel with his, her fingers burying themselves in his hair as her body lifted toward him in open invitation.

  Dylan growled, reveling in Kristen’s surrender. The soft feel of her breasts swelling against his chest, along with the sweet scent of a cunt warming for his touch, fueled the feral desires raging through him. They demanded ever more, and he ground back into her soft curves until they molded against his body, caressing him from chest to knee as they began to sway just as they had on the dance floor⎯back and forth in a rhythm as old as time.

  Kristen whimpered, her body moving with his and proving that beneath all that prim prissiness was a hot little vixen waiting for a man to awaken her to the erotic world of ecstasy. Dylan wanted to be that man.

  Flexing against her and silently cursing the clothes in his way, Dylan dug his hand into the heavy cotton of her skirt and began dragging it up until his fingers brushed against the soft, velvety silk of her skin. Kristen broke free of his kiss at that first electric brush and began gasping for air as Dylan rained suckling little kisses down the graceful arch of her neck.

  He felt the hard points of her nipples pressing through her dress. They ground against him, leaving him desperate for a taste as hungry, little moans fell from her lips, cheering him onward as he gripped her thigh and jerked it high up along his hips. Her knee bent, her leg wrapping around him as her skirt fell back, allowing him full access to the pussy weeping for his touch.

  Dylan brushed the backs of his fingers against the wet crotch of her panties, nearly losing it at the feel of her cunt so soft and ready for him. Impatient now, he thrust his fingers beneath the elastic edge of her panties and split the plump, swollen folds of her pussy wide open. Kristen squealed and jerked hard at his invasion, but Dylan wasn’t about to be bucked off like Brandon had.

  He held firm, keeping her pinned beneath the wall and whimpering with a need he planned on conquering. Kristen was his. Dylan didn’t fight the truth of that thought as it hammered through him. Instead, he trapped her clit beneath his thumb and began twirling the little bud, even as he nuzzled aside the collar of her dress to lap at the nipple still trapped beneath a thick cotton bra.

  “Oh God,” Kristen moaned as she began to gulp for breath, her entire body tensing beneath him, and Dylan knew she was coming close to a release.

  He was almost certain it would be her first. He wanted to give it to her, to feel her come apart in his arms if not all around his dick. That he could not do. Despite the inferno consuming him, the need he had to protect Kristen overrode everything. She deserved better than having her first time up against the back of a bar.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t take a taste.

  Dylan was already sinking to his knees as that thought hit. Above him Kristen leaned against the wall, lost to all reality and allowing him to take every advantage. Dylan wasn’t known for letting those kinds of opportunities pass him by.

  * * * *

  Lost in a sensual swirl of delights she’d never imagined, Kristen couldn’t even believe this was real. It had to be a dream. A wonderful, amazing dream that only kept getting better. Smiling at that thought, she let her head roll back as the ecstasy twining through her grew tighter with every roll of Deputy Singer’s thumb.

  “Again. Please.”

  That wasn’t her voice. She didn’t sound like that. Whoever had moaned that plea had sounded like a sensual vixen calling out to her lover in honeyed, husky tones. Kristen didn’t have a lover. Just a fantasy…a really, really good fantasy. One that had her twisting and flexing as the liquid heat of desire flooded through her body.

  She was hot, wet, and so damn needy it took her a moment to realize it was the heated breath of the deputy fanning across her intimate flesh, causing her to feel as if the sun had opened up all around her. While a voice in the very back of her head screamed out a warning, it was drowned out by the rush of rapture that rocked through her at the very first velvety brush of his tongue lapping
over her clit. Then there wasn’t the time to care about anything other than how good it felt to be kissed in such a way.

  Deputy Singer certainly knew how to kiss.

  Kristen’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as the deputy devoured her molten flesh with a hunger that had him thrusting that wicked tongue of his right up inside of her. His fingers followed, stretching her untried muscles delightfully wide. She felt so full, so deliciously full, and then he added motion to the sensation, and Kristen was lost.

  The pressure built rapidly inside of her until she felt as if she couldn’t even catch her breath. Then, like a bubble, she popped, shattering into a dizzying burst of frenzied delight. It was like pure sunlight shined right into her soul, leaving her melting downward against the brick wall. Thankfully, Deputy Singer was there to catch her.

  He rose up to hold her tight until the world started to reorder itself around her and the reality of what had just happened. Kristen blinked, taking in a world gone crazy but couldn’t muster the energy to feel the least bit of shame. That was probably what she should be feeling, what she might feel later, but right then, she could only smile.

  That had been wonderful.

  She wanted to do it again. Apparently, that was going to cost her. Deputy Singer made that clear as he finally stepped back to meet her gaze. Kristen knew she was blushing, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. She was still just a bit hot. Hot and feeling a sense of freedom that she’d never felt before. That was what gave her the confidence to meet his gaze.

  “Well, look at you,” he whispered softly, reaching up to brush a thumb across her cheek. Kristen caught the scent of her own arousal as his voice washed over her like a hypnotic lure. “All rosy and flushed, and ready for more, aren’t you?”

  Kristen swallowed back the yes that wanted to fly from her lips and refused to answer, not wanting to break the spell. It was as if the deputy sensed her thoughts. He smiled slightly.

  “Yeah, you’ve had a taste of something you like, so let me now explain to you my terms.”

  “Terms?” That didn’t sound good, and Kristen felt a frown begin to mar her bliss.

  “I’m going to give you the gift of a pleasure so great that you can’t even conceive of how wonderful it will be, and you? You’re going to give me total control.”

  Something about his tone warned her he wasn’t playing a game. The deputy had plans, and just the thought of what they might be made her shiver. It was Pandora’s box, and she knew she shouldn’t open it, but she was tempted. Really tempted.

  “I’m not giving you anything more tonight.” Kristen gathered what strength she could muster and straightened up. “Nothing more than the promise that I’ll think about it.”

  “I know you will,” the deputy all but purred as his smile widened. “And think about this. It doesn’t have to be love to be good. The kind of lust we share, that’s special, too.”

  Kristen frowned, fundamentally disagreeing with him. Arguing would be pointless, though, given what had just happened. He’d proved his point, but she still couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t all be better if it were love.

  Kristen put that question to Cybil as she drove her home later that night, though she didn’t get the answer back that she was expecting.

  “Oh, honey, I wish I could tell you that was true, but…” Cybil sighed heavily and shook her head sadly. “It actually very rarely works out that way.”

  “Really?” Kristen frowned.

  “The hotter something burns, the faster it burns out,” Cybil stated.

  The grim solemnness in her tone had Kristen falling silent as a darkness began to creep into the light that had been her soul ever since Deputy Singer had given her a taste of all she’d been missing.

  She watched the large town of Dothan slip past as she considered that Cybil very well might have a point. Deputy Singer was certainly not the type of man she’d have chosen for herself. He was too good-looking, too arrogant, and too rude, and none of that mattered when it came to how it felt to be touched by him.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe that alone was special enough. After all, what if she never fell in love? Or what if she fell in love and it wasn’t as good as it had been tonight? Would she always wonder what might have been?

  Kristen frowned at all those questions as Cybil brought her car to a stop at a red light. She’d been lost in her thoughts as the world whipped by, but now as it came into focus, she found herself staring into the parking lot of a cheap strip motel. Kristen knew the place only from having seen it from the road and would never consider even pulling into, but there sat Gwen’s car.

  Kristen blinked and frowned, but there was no denying it was Gwen’s car, especially not when her cousin came dancing out of a room wearing some lacy bit of lingerie to meet a man who looked just like Mr. O’Leary, the man her parents were intent on marrying her off to. That was because it was Mr. O’Leary!

  Kristen’s gasped and quickly looked away, both horrified and embarrassed at the very idea of what the two of them were doing. She certainly didn’t want to end up like that, but neither did she want to end up saving herself for a man like that either. She really did have some serious thinking to do.

  * * * *

  Dylan couldn’t stop smiling as he drove home that night, and he knew who to thank for the rush of anticipation making him grin like a loon. Little Miss Kristen might like to dress like an uptight prig, but she came apart like a true creature of sensual beauty. Better than that, she’d been tight, real tight, and he couldn’t wait to feel that cunt clinging to his dick.

  Dylan was pretty damn sure he was going to get to see that dream come true. After all, she hadn’t turned him down. He had her hooked. All Dylan had to do was reel her in. Reel her in and then figure out what he was going to do about Brandon. That idiot clearly needed help, but did Dylan want to help him?

  The answer had always, instantly, been yes. That was until he’d tasted the sweet, intoxicating cream of Kristen’s release. That shit was like gold, worth coveting and even considering betraying his best friend. Of course, if he did that, then that would be all but admitting this was love when it couldn’t be that.

  This was lust, and men didn’t turn traitor over lust. That was probably a lie, but Dylan didn’t care. He didn’t betray his friends. Not over any woman. Dylan clung to that conviction, even as he felt the doubts brewing. He refused to entertain them as he finally turned into the driveway that twisted around a large, old Southern white-planked wood house that he’d bought with Brandon.

  It had been in a state of desperate repair, but they were slowly bringing it back to life. Brandon had already blessed the yard with his green touch. The grass was lush, the flower beds full and perfectly weeded. There was even a vegetable garden growing in the backyard. It was that stupid garden that kept Dylan from having the room for the pool he wanted.

  That was an ongoing battle he had yet to win. One he grumbled over to himself that night as he pulled his truck to a stop beneath the carport they’d built out back. The backyard was actually a perfect oasis except for that stupid garden.

  They’d landscaped in a massive cobblestone patio just off the back porch. They’d built up a fire pit, an outdoor kitchen, and even had some room for horseshoes. Now all they needed was a pool. Still grumbling, Dylan mounted the back stairs and headed in through the always open back door to find Brandon standing at the refrigerator, swaying on his feet.

  “Hey, man,” Dylan called out and knew instantly by the amount of time it took for Brandon to turn his head and respond that his buddy was drunk.

  “Hey.”

  Dylan bit back a smile as Brandon turned slowly back toward staring into the refrigerator. Brandon was a funny drunk, or at least he was fun to mess with. He was the kind of drunk that could be dressed up like a woman and convinced to go ring the high school principal’s doorbell at three in the morning. He could also be heavily relied on to vomit on the man’s slippers.

  That thought had D
ylan eyeing Brandon with some worry. He didn’t want his buddy to vomit into the refrigerator. They’d just bought the thing.

  “Hey, man, you looking for something?” Dylan asked as he came over to assist, but there wasn’t anything he could do apparently.

  “Nope.”

  “Um, then why don’t we close this?” Dylan suggested as he pulled the door free of Brandon’s hold. The man almost went down before Dylan could catch him. “Oh, I see.”

  Dylan caught on almost instantly to what the game was and only had one question as he began helping his buddy down the hall. “Who left you like that?”

  “Devin.” Brandon stumbled over his feet, even though he was carrying very little of his own weight. “He said I needed to cool off.”

  “Is that right?” That sounded like Devin. The man had a twisted sense of humor. “And how long have you been standing there?”

  “I don’t know.” Brandon smiled, clearly not offended by the joke Devin had played. “But I think the milk went bad.”

  “Brandon, man, why did you let them get you drunk?”

  “Because Kristen was mean to me.” Brandon pouted, reverting as he often did when drunk to a child-like voice that just invited other men to pick on him. “Gwen set me up.”

  “Gwen’s a bitch.” Dylan had come to that conclusion at Duncan’s pool party. He hadn’t failed to notice that the one person who didn’t seem concerned with her cousin’s near drowning was Gwen.

  “Yeah…but she’s smart.” Brandon sighed as Dylan lugged him up the stairs to the bedroom. “Smarter than me.”

  “It’ll be okay, man.” Dylan would make sure of that.

  “No it won’t,” Brandon insisted as they finally made it to the top and turned into his bedroom. “Kristen will never forgive me. She thinks I’m a jerk.”

  “Here’s a clue. Next time just kiss her.”

  Chapter 12

  Sunday, May 18th