Acres, Natalie - Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts [Cowboy Boots 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Natalie Acres

  Then again, her mouth still burned. His lips made her pussy sizzle. She glared again. He deserved to squirm a little.

  “I can ask them to leave.”

  “No,” she said. “I work with those men. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

  “A woman who looks like you shouldn’t work,” Juraz said, holding up two fingers at a passing cocktail waitress. “Women such as yourself should be pampered, adored, and treated to the finest this world has to offer.”

  “Sounds nice,” Abby drawled. “That kind of life just wasn’t in my cards.”

  “One can never be sure,” Juraz said, winking. “What do you do, Abby?”

  “I’m a security advisor for IBC Communications based in Southwest Virginia.”

  “Really?” Juraz asked, leaning forward as soon as they took a seat at an intimate booth meant for two. “What brings you to Chicago?”

  “We were here for a training class, but we head back tomorrow,” she replied, glancing over at her fellow operatives. “We saw the flashing signs about the new adult-lifestyle resort you’re opening in the South and thought we’d come in for a bit of information.”

  “Now I see why you didn’t want your friends escorted out. It could make your flight home rather unpleasant, I suppose.” A beat later, he added, “So your employer doesn’t have a policy in place about dating coworkers?”

  She took a deep breath, and rather than provide a response, she changed the subject. “Let’s talk about something pleasant. Tell me about the extended-stay plans for Camp South Holston.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “How did you know about that?”

  She pointed toward the bar where an enlarged aerial photograph was displayed. She tried to portray the girl next door ready to share her memories with a man she’d just met. “I went to camp there as a girl.”

  “You didn’t!” Juraz seemed excited.

  “Yes! I did.” She sat against the cushioned support and crossed her arms and legs. “I have to tell you, after class today, I almost went back to the hotel room. I thought a little downtime sounded more appealing than running around Chicago. Then, I saw the billboard. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a new adult club is slated to open soon in the South.” She pointed at the bar. “And then I discovered Camp South Holston will become a lifestyle resort.” Her hands formed a steeple, and she tucked them under her chin. “This is like déjà vu.”

  “How?” he asked, arching a brow as if he didn’t buy her story.

  “I feel like a little girl again. You don’t understand. When I was a child, there wasn’t a better place to be in the summertime. We had such a grand time there.” She paused for a second and then said, “Are you from Abingdon?”

  He shook his head. His dark eyes dimmed as if he were torn between believing her enthusiasm for his new business and passing her off as a woman he should potentially avoid.

  “I didn’t think so. Well, here’s the thing,” she drawled, “There isn’t much to do in Abingdon. Outside of the Virginia Highlands Festival, there’s really nothing much for kids to look forward to.”

  He frowned. “I bought the property with steadfast intentions of turning the camp into an adult-lifestyle retreat.”

  “I understand that,” she assured him, patting his arm. “You asked about the déjà vu, remember? I just have that old familiar excitement. I can’t wait to visit your resort. Will you still maintain the waterfront?”

  He arched his brow and acted very suspicious then.

  “Camp South Holston owned three docks when I spent my summers there. The counselors used the larger marina for sailing classes. The pier with numerous boat slips was used for water-ski instruction, while the cove area was designated for canoe classes, which I enjoyed.”

  “Do you remember the stables?” Juraz asked, setting off alarms as he dismissed answering questions about the waterfront.

  “Yes, I spent a lot of time at the equestrian center. I was on the drill team,” she stated proudly.

  “What was the drill team?”

  She closed her eyes and dramatically replied, “Ah, Juraz. It was the elite group of camp riders. Only the best, those truly talented in horsemanship, were permitted to join.”

  He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and said, “I can see where you must’ve been an admirable equestrian. I’m told it’s all in the legs.”

  Ah hell. Here we go. She might as well take the first leap of faith and get this party started. The sooner the host entertained his guest, the sooner they could put this mission behind them.

  She leaned over and bumped her breasts against his arm. “You’re right,” she quietly assured him. “It’s all in how well a rider tightly grips the mount underneath her.”

  * * * *

  Ace snarled. “I will spank her when this is over.”

  “Sure you will,” Casey said. “About like Porter plans to put a dildo in her pussy and paddle her twat.”

  “I never said that,” Porter said, keeping a keen eye on Abby.

  “Talk about that kiss and I’ll deck you,” Ace said.

  “Damn, those lips were sweet,” Porter teased.

  Ace faced him. “I wasn’t kidding.”

  Porter took a deep breath. Sometimes Ace’s attitude was a real obstacle. He was a smart-ass SOB when he wanted to be. Standing about six foot four, Ace was nothing more than layers of muscle. The only soft spot the man possessed was the one he held in high regard, too—Abby Rose.

  “I say we take him out right here,” Casey said, always ready to jump the gun.

  Casey looked like a kid, and very often Porter reminded himself Casey wasn’t a child, hard to do since the guy looked like a surfer boy of about eighteen. Only a year separated them. Porter was twenty-nine. Casey followed only a year behind.

  Still, Casey was a trained killer just like the lot of them. Under normal daily circumstances, he was such a klutz and a clown, but when he aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, no one had a more accurate shot.

  Fowler folded his hands atop the table. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

  “What’s wrong, Fowler,” Ace taunted him. “Afraid Juraz is gonna slide in there before you do?”

  “He won’t be a-tappin’ that. I’ll promise ya.”

  Porter and Ace exchanged a knowing stare. Porter shook his head in warning. It wasn’t worth the argument. They all recognized the possible scenarios. The best they could hope for was the most favorable. If Abby went to bed with Juraz, they wanted her to kill him before she was forced to fuck him.

  Unfortunately, they needed information from Juraz before she pulled the trigger. And he probably wouldn’t open his mouth unless she first spread those long, shapely legs.

  Chapter Four

  Abby had to give Juraz props. As much as she hated giving credit to a damnable thug, he was an attentive man, a good listener and great conversationalist. He was charming, witty even. And he was easy on the eyes.

  None of that mattered. Hatred came easy when a ruthless individual took the lives of the innocent.

  “So as I was saying,” Juraz began, returning to the topic at hand after being interrupted by one of his staff members, “I’m an entrepreneur. My family settled here in the seventies. After college—I graduated from UCLA with a business degree—I decided to start my own chain of restaurants. I became bored, though. I’ve always been drawn to the bar scene.” He scanned his crowd and added, “I lean toward opening businesses the BDSM-lifestyle crowd find most appealing.”

  “You’re obviously good at what you do,” she said, noting the standing-room-only occupancy.

  Abby forced a smile, but she’d never forget who was in her company. Juraz was a killer, the man who slaughtered the one person who meant more to her than anyone else in the world. Not that the world bothered to notice the connection between herself and Conrad McDaniels. Brantley and Ace knew her secret, but they never made mention of the fact, not even after Conrad died.

  Shifting her gaze toward her the fellow a
gents seated nearby, she scanned their faces. Ace must’ve guessed she was thinking about Conrad. He snipped in her ear, “I’ve got ’cha in my sights, baby. Now relax. Everything will be all right.”

  She jerked as a statuesque cocktail waitress set a bottle of champagne on their table. The woman issued a hard stare then provided Juraz with an icy glare. She didn’t wait until the cork was popped. She turned, and right before she strolled away, Abby spotted the tears welling in the woman’s set eyes.

  Abby pretended not to notice. She recognized the young woman from the pictures in Juraz’s file. She was Juraz’s current sub, the companion who’d spent the last seven years in the cartel leader’s bed.

  Poor thing ought to celebrate. She was being replaced, and thanks to Abby’s team, she’d disappear without a trace rather than be eliminated like her two predecessors.

  After champagne was poured, Juraz raised his glass and handed off a long-stemmed flute as well. “To new beginnings.”

  The fluid sparkled. The glasses clinked.

  Juraz moistened his lips and kissed her cheek. “This is a fated moment, Abby. You have no idea what I have in store for you. Trust me. I think we were brought together for a reason.”

  “I believe that, Juraz,” she cooed, pushing aside the need to revisit the horrific images that would forever be embedded in her head.

  Her father was slaughtered. Her siblings, murdered. Juraz Mendete had a target on his back, and as Conrad McDaniels’ daughter, she had an obligation. As Donovan had pointed out—an eye for an eye.

  “There’s no convincing you, is there?” He smiled, perhaps gloated. “I have the most beautiful woman seated at my table, and she appears to have as much interest in me as I have in her. Life is sweet. Yes?”

  “It is indeed,” she replied. Forcing an adoring smile, she lowered her eyes, and tried to step right into the role of a submissive.

  Juraz took her hand. “Show me, sub. Show me more of what I can look forward to in the near future.”

  Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn bastard probably believed she was in awe of him. Pretending she was interested in Juraz would be the hardest task of her life. Before she doubted herself or questioned her abilities, she rose to her feet, bowed her head, and knelt at his feet.

  For a second there, she thought she might lose her dinner—the earlier rock shrimp she’d consumed wasn’t sitting well given her predicament. Then, she heard Porter’s whisper in her ear. “Sweet sunshine, look at how well she fell into the willing sub act. Damn, Ace. I bet that cock can go from flat and flaccid to fat and sassy in no time, huh, buddy?”

  “Abby knows where to find a hard one when she’s ready.”

  Truer words had never been spoken. On rare occasions, Ace had rubbed up against her, and anytime she found his erection against her behind, she dampened her panties. A time or two, he’d gotten her so worked up she could’ve sworn she’d taken a dip in a swimming pool.

  Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration. Maybe.

  Her nipples hardened as she gave Ace a sideways glance, careful to keep her eyes lowered. She parted her knees and crossed her ankles behind her.

  After studying various images of Juraz with his past and current subs, she’d tried her best to perfect the positions she thought he might most appreciate. He apparently approved the effort.

  “Look at me,” Juraz crooned. His black eyes were as dark as coal with a certain shimmer just like the rock. He moistened his lips. “You are exquisite.”

  She twitched. She swayed a bit. Oh boy, she was certain to be sick.

  “Easy, baby.” Ace’s voice came through the earpiece, and he sounded as sweet as honey. “Take your time. You’re fine, Abby. Pull it together, baby. Draw on that inner strength.”

  Abby melted. She made a mental note to fuck that hard shell of a man the second this was all over. Ace had always been at the top of her bucket list…right along with several other hardcore operatives. Hell, maybe after this mission, they’d form a single file and stand in line.

  Abby cleared her throat and concentrated on the present rather than her fantasies for the future. This job would’ve been easier if she’d taken time out for some personal business beforehand. That was the problem. She should’ve screwed Ace before she hooked up with Juraz. With her sexual frustration out of the way, she might have been able to concentrate on the burdensome chores ahead.

  “So nice,” Juraz growled, taking her hand in his. “I’m already finding myself more and more attracted to you.”

  Oh, please.

  She lowered her eyes again, and he tilted her chin toward his. “You’re willing, aren’t you, subbie?”

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered, realizing a man like Juraz wouldn’t want to waste time with the small detail of earning her respect.

  A sudden sound filled her earpiece. She heard Porter’s familiar grunt, a guttural pitch of pure male displeasure.

  “Oh, Abby, the things I will do to you,” Juraz whispered across her lips as he pulled her into his arms.

  She stared at him blankly, awaiting instructions or permission to speak, convinced her role as Juraz’s new woman had just begun.

  “Let’s go to my office. I have something I’d like to show you.”

  “But…”

  “You’re obviously no stranger to the lifestyle. I want to train you for a way of life I think you’ll enjoy. Are you interested?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Master. I’m interested.”

  “All right then. Let’s get acquainted. Then, I’ll send you back to your hotel room. Tomorrow, we’ll fly to Virginia together.”

  They stood. Juraz immediately placed his hand in the small of her back. “What do you mean we’ll fly to Virginia together?” Panic strummed through her veins. This wasn’t part of the deal.

  “I have my own private jet. I’ll take you home so you don’t have to travel with your ex-lover. He is, in fact, an ex, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Calm down, sweets,” Ace hissed in the earpiece. “Take a deep breath. You’re doin’ fine, sugar.”

  Ace was right, and she needed to pull it together. Her team was depending on her.

  Her father would want her to remain committed to their cause. Conrad would expect her to perform like the agent he trained, the daughter he raised. He would want her to avenge his death.

  Juraz cupped her cheek, and she immediately snapped out of her stupor. “Submissive women don’t question their Masters, doll. Come now, subbie. I have a lot to teach you.”

  Abby followed him through the club, ignoring the guys as they passed their table. “I have a few lessons prepared for you, too,” she whispered, hoping her voice carried. She needed her fellow operatives to believe she was slowly coming around. She’d quickly bounced back.

  She could do this. She was ready. She was trained.

  Speaking louder, she said, “I believe we’ll surprise one another.”

  “I know that’s true,” he said, shooting her a toothy grin.

  As Juraz pushed through the layers of people, she muttered, “All right, boys. Let’s do this thing. Let’s give Juraz what he deserves. In the meantime, I’ll show you fellas exactly what you’ve been missing.”

  Chapter Five

  Abingdon, Virginia

  One day later

  “You’ll never believe what I found in the garage over at the adjoining property,” Casey said, entering the house they were preparing for Abby’s arrival.

  “I’ve already seen it,” Brantley said, wondering why Brock Donovan wouldn’t hide something like a Catherine Wheel. Then again, where could he temporarily store it? He damn sure wasn’t about to destroy such a tantalizing piece of equipment. Brantley wouldn’t if he were in Brock’s shoes.

  “Have you ever used one?” Casey pried, pacing the expansive porch of the former Donovan family home.

  “Of course he has.” Fowler spoke up, peering over the banist
er. “Can’t you just see him widespread like an eagle and some Dom telling him to play with himself?”

  “Oh sure,” Casey muttered. “You know I’ve got that image in my head.”

  Brantley laughed. “I know how they’re used, yes. But I doubt any of us will have the pleasure of seeing that thing in motion.”

  “I’ve figured out how to operate the wheel,” Casey informed him. “I’d just like to see my girl on it.”

  “Your girl?” Fowler asked.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard?” Brantley asked. “Since Donovan laid out the details of this mission, Casey has been running around here calling Abby ‘his’ girl.”

  “She’ll love that,” Fowler said.

  “She’s been our girl since the day she was assigned to our unit.” Casey acknowledged Ace with a tilt of his head when he joined them. “And don’t any of you try to deny it. She can hop in bed with anyone she likes, but when the end of time comes, she’ll be strapped to that wheel, yelling out my name. Mark it down. I’ll make sure it happens.”

  “Like hell,” Brantley grumbled.

  “I’m talking straight here, boss,” Casey assured him.

  “Stop with the boss thing, already,” Brantley said, leaping over the banister to the other side of the porch and checking out the handiwork Fowler just completed. He stretched his neck and studied the brown wiring affixed to a few red twigs sprouting from a nearby bush.

  “You’re sure the whole house is tight?” Ace asked.

  “This place is more secure than Fort Knox. Our main command post is over at Sam Kane’s former residence. Every room in this baby is wired for sound and high-definition pictures. Even though we won’t be staying with Abby, the features in place assure she’s never alone.” Fowler waggled his brows and added, “That reminds me, what time are we expecting the pretty lady?”

  Brantley frowned. “I’m concerned about that, as a matter of fact. Abby is still in Chicago.”

  Ace was enraged. “What? Why?” He clenched his fists. “I knew we should’ve stopped her from flying solo. It was too soon.”

  Brantley held up his hand. “You didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Juraz and Abby clicked from the start. He’s escorting her home and plans to start living with her as soon as they complete her training.”