by Lora Leigh
He drew in a hard, ragged breath, his gaze turning fierce, dominant.
"I can't breathe without smelling you, without wanting you. Three fucking years I waited, Keiley, and in one week you've chained my soul to you. In three years, I wouldn't be able to let you go."
"Then don't let me go." She pressed closer, dragging her hardened nipples over his chest, feeling the heat and controlled power of his arousal as his cock brushed against her belly.
Her hands slid into his hair, tangled around the strands, and pulled him forehead.
"Love me, Jethro," she whispered against his lips. "Just love me."
One arm locked hard around her hips, lifting her against him as his hand gripped her thigh, guiding her leg around his waist. This wasn't the smooth, practiced lover she had come to know. As his lips bore down on hers, his erection nudged between her thighs, found her slick and wet, and drove home.
Sensation exploded through her. The sudden burning pleasure clawed a scream from her throat and sent her pulse racing with an overload of pleasure. As his cock buried in her to the hilt, his tongue plundered her mouth, her lips, tangled with hers and licked at the sudden passion that blazed from her.
Colors burst behind her closed eyes as he began to thrust. Pushing her against the wall, his hands clamped on the cheeks of her rear and he began driving inside her. Deep, desperate lunges that drove the breath from her lungs and reality from her head.
She held on tight and let the pleasure have her. She let Jethro have her. The hard thrust of his cock inside her, his lips ravishing hers before moving to her neck, to the rounded tops of her breasts.
His breathing was rough, ragged, matching hers as she tightened on him, feeling the pleasure washing over her, through her.
"I love the feel of you," he snarled as he buried his lips in the side of her neck. "The smell of you. Sweet taste."
"Don't stop," she pleaded, her arms tightening around his shoulders as his hips moved harder, driving his erection deeper. "Oh God, don't stop, Jethro. Never."
"Never." He nipped her neck, drove inside her harder, faster, stretching her, burning her until the conflagration of sensations began to ripple in ever-widening circles, tightening her womb, her clit, driving into her soul until she screamed out with the fiery explosions that ripped through her.
A harsh male growl left his lips as two powerful strokes sent Jethro into his own release, his semen pumping furiously into her, branding her, marking her as his as well and sealing her to him.
When it was over, she lay limply against his chest, just trying to catch her breath as her eyes opened.
And there, framed in the doorway, was Mac, his gray eyes glittering in hunger as he winked back at her with wicked lust and heated love.
"Better shower," he told them both huskily. "I heard Victoria and Robert are on their way here. You know how the old girl hates to be kept waiting."
Jethro let her go slowly, his lips pressing to hers as his eyes opened, the blue glittering with love and laughter rather than the dark shadows and pain.
"I think we need more land," he said then. "If Mac and I work hard enough, then we might not wear you out."
"You're staying?" she cried out, staring back at him as the tight knot of pain in her chest began to unravel.
"I think I better." He shook his head in mock sadness. "Mac spoils you worse than a Christmas puppy. Someone has to have control."
"Give me another week, you'll spoil me, too." She wrapped her arms around his neck, though her eyes met Mac's again and she saw the warmth there, the approval. Hell, she saw joy.
"I love you both," she whispered, her voice rough as Jethro eased back and Mac stepped into the circle.
One arm around his neck, the other around Jethro's, their arms surrounding her, their heat filling her.
She was selfish. She didn't want a third, she wanted a whole. And it was here, in her arms. Two men and a future filled with promises.
Victoria Staten entered the foyer in front of her son Robert, her expression drawn, her eyes dark with sadness as Keiley stood at the entrance to the living room and watched Mac step back to let them in.
Robert was a few years older than Mac. He was shorter, distinguished rather than rough around the edges, controlled and methodical. He ran the family businesses now, a mix of enterprises from computer hardware to cotton production. His shoulders were broad, his dark hair cut close, his sea-green eyes shuttered as he and Mac shook hands before Mac introduced him to Jethro.
"Can we talk?" Robert pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he stared back at Jethro and Mac.
"Come in, Robert. Victoria." Keiley stepped forward as she extended her hand to the living room. "I'll fix some coffee."
"No, dear," Victoria said firmly. "This is something you need to hear as well."
Keiley glanced to Robert. He nodded abruptly.
"Come on in," Mac said then.
Jethro moved ahead of them, standing by the couch and indicating the two chairs that faced it across a low coffee table. Once Victoria had sat down, Jethro moved to one end of the couch as Keiley took her seat beside him, with Mac on her other side.
The move wasn't lost on Victoria. She watched them with a closed expression, but her eyes took in the nuances of the seating arrangements.
“I want to apologize for Delia's behavior, Mac," Robert stated as he stared back at them. "I know she received the picture from Wes Bridges. The sheriff found the e-mail on his laptop. She's been a nuisance, and I take the blame for that."
"Why?" Keiley asked him, seeing his surprise. "Why take the blame for her?"
"Because I knew she was rabid where Mac was concerned and I married her anyway,"
he stated coolly. "She won't bother you any longer."
"What makes you so certain?" Mac's voice was dangerously low.
Keiley knew his anger toward Delia, but she also knew his fear that Robert's anger could have manifested itself in physical harm toward her. No matter how angry he was, he wouldn't have condoned Robert striking her.
"Delia's staying with her sister in Pennsylvania until our divorce is final," Robert stated then. "I doubt she'll be back. I know the condemnation against her was strong. She didn't have many friends left the way it was."
"And I would like to extend my apologies as well," Victoria sighed. "I should have kept closer tabs on her. I had hoped Robert's warnings that he would divorce her would stay her hand. And I'm sorry for that."
Keiley glanced away as Victoria caught her eye.
"We don't blame you or Robert, Victoria," Mac said then. "But I won't have this backlashing on Keiley from your end."
"In what manner?" Victoria suddenly straightened imperiously. "Young man, since when did you get big enough for your breeches that you could dictate to me?"
Keiley turned her head as Jethro snickered. Mac did have the good grace to flush at her rebuke, but he wasn't to be outdone that easily.
"When my wife's position in this community is placed at risk because of your daughter-in-law's actions," he stated coolly. "Delia demanded her resignation from the charity committee, and your board members were present when she did so. I want your assurance that
her position there will be upheld and that your support toward her is still in place."
Keiley winced. She expected Victoria to calmly tear a strip off his head for even suggesting she would back Keiley now. Instead, her lips twitched.
"It's going to be interesting watching the two of you serve hot dogs this summer,"
Victoria drawled instead. "My support remains constant as long as you and Jethro both are in attendance at that booth. If your wife can face the public with the grace and pride I heard she showed at Casey's, then you can do the same at the festival. Are we agreed?"
"I have work—"Jethro sounded almost panicked.
"Young man, are we understood?" Victoria demanded, her voice frosting over. "If you are going to be a part of t
his small family, and if I am going to back such a relationship, then I shall, of course, demand my own satisfaction. That satisfaction being watching all the droves of curious women spending good money to buy hot dogs from the two bad boys of our fair county. This is not negotiable."
Jethro sent Mac a furious look. A demand to intercede.
Mac held his hands up in surrender. "You don't fight her, man. She's tougher than you are."
Robert leaned back in his chair and chuckled at the display, his gaze meeting Keiley's with an edge of admiration.
"Congratulations, Keiley," he said. "I can safely say you are the only woman I know of to have survived such scandal intact and with such a promise from Mother."
"Shut up, Robert." Victoria's gaze jerked to him in warning.
Robert's lips twitched. "We should all be so brave."
Keiley's eyes widened as he then rose to his feet and nodded to Jethro and Mac as they straightened as well.
"Thank you for allowing me to take care of Delia before you retaliated. I'm aware of the problems you could have caused had you wanted to."
"Robert, I told you, John McCoy has a cool head." Victoria rose as well, her tone reproving as she spoke to her son. "You should heed my council more often."
He sighed. His look said this argument was a common one.
"Good day, Keiley." He nodded in her direction before extending his hand to Mac once again. "And again, thank you for the cool head."
"Thank you for sending her to Pennsylvania. I might not have kept that cool head otherwise." Mac grimaced.
"That I assumed." Robert nodded. "We'll leave you now. I'm aware you have a trip planned later. If you ever need anything." He left the sentence hanging, his meaning clear.
"He knows who to ask," Victoria informed him, her tone offended. "Really, Robert.
John has always known he could come to me."
"Yes, Mother." His lips quirked with a faint tolerance that bespoke his affection for his mother.
"Victoria." Mac stepped forward, his hands raising to clasp her shoulders as he bent and kissed her cheek gently. "Thank you."
Victoria blinked then, her expression softening, then firming once again to its normal, imperious lines.
"You heathen," she muttered fondly then. "I always knew you had a wild streak. You didn't fool me."
"No, ma' am, I didn't." He smiled. "And you'd better buy a hot dog off me this summer, or I'll send all the old men to you. Imagine the lines at your booth if I send out the message you're selling kisses."
"That threat will not always work." She shook her finger at him reprovingly. "Now be good. All of you. These shenanigans of yours are too hard on my composure. Not to mention my phone." She sighed expressively. "The phone was still ringing when I left this morning. You and that young friend of yours are going to be very popular for a while.
The young ladies are scandalized and curious. It does not bode well for keeping them in line, I'll have you know."
"No, ma' am," he agreed, hiding his smile now.
"Come see me soon." Victoria reached up and patted his cheek in such a motherly gesture that it brought tears to Keiley's eyes. "I've missed our chats, you know."
"Soon," Mac promised as she drew away from him, following her son to the doorway as she looked back affectionately.
"Very soon," she reminded him. "All of you. Very soon."
As the door closed behind them, Keiley sighed in satisfaction. As Mac and Jethro returned to the doorway, she smiled in sensual anticipation. Both men were loosening their belts with the same anticipation with which she was toeing off her sandals and pushing her capris from her hips.
In seconds, they were naked. Within minutes they were sweat-dampened, and not long after Keiley was between the two men she loved with all her soul.
She screamed with pleasure as she felt Jethro press firmly into her rear, tightening her pussy on Mac's furiously throbbing erection as her lips ate at him. Her tongue licked over his, her teeth nipped at his lips and were nipped in turn.
Behind her, Jethro's lips attacked her neck and shoulders, kissing, licking, nipping in turn. Together they were devouring her body as her body devoured them in turn.
"Mac," she moaned in rising pleasure as they began to move, thrusting, invading, penetrating her body and her soul.
Her back arched as she stared down at her husband, seeing the love gleaming in the gray depths, and the peace settling inside him.
"I love you," she whimpered, delirious with the pleasure now. "I love you both. I love you so much."
"God, Keiley." Mac's hands were tight on her hips as he held them still, his hips jerking harder, driving deeper inside her. "You're my soul."
"My life," Jethro groaned, his hands gripping her shoulders, pressing her to Mac's chest as the pleasure/pain of his possession mixed with the burning ecstasy of Mac's and created an inferno that swept her higher than ever, threw her into the star-studded expanse of an orgasm that left her shuddering, and an emotional kaleidoscope of joy that left her dazed.
This was the dream she thought she would never have. A forbidden pleasure she never expected to be able to hold forever. But she was holding it. Or they were holding her, filling her with their release, their harsh voices filled with love as they whispered their love.
Forbidden pleasure. And all hers. Forever.
cover Wicked Pleasures
Lora Leigh
wicked pleasure
ALSO BY LORA LEIGH
dangerous
games
hidden
agendas
killer
secrets
forbidden
pleasure
ANTHOLOGIES
real men
do it better
honk if you love
real men
wicked pleasure
LORA LEIGH
Image
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
WICKED PLEASURE. Copyright © 2008 by Lora Leigh. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataLeigh,
Lora. Wicked pleasure/Lora Leigh. p. cm. ISBN-13: 978-1-4299-3789-4 ISBN-10: 1-4299-3789-0 I. Title. PS3612.E357W53 2008 813′.6—
dc22 2008003152
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For a very dear friend.I miss our morning chats.
wicked pleasure
Prologue
Her daddy had told her to stay away from him. That he was bad news. That those Falladay twins were boys good girls didn't mess with.
She was a good girl, but she didn't think Cam Falladay was a bad boy. He was hurting, and she couldn't stand to see him hurt.
She was thirteen, and boys were just starting to flirt with her. She liked the flirting, but she didn't like how dumb they acted. Cam was eighteen, a man, but sometimes she just wanted to hug him, because she swore she could feel him hurting.
Not that he ever showed it or spoke of it. Unlike other boys, Cam didn't tell anyone when he hurt. And he didn't flirt with her either. When he saw her he talked to her, and when the older boys bothered her, he always seemed to be there. Those light green eyes of his would pin the other boys in a way that always made her shiver with dread. And evidently, it made them shiver, too, because they ran, and they rarely bothered her anymore.
She sought Cam Falladay out every chance she got, despite her daddy's warning. But now, it seemed he had sought her out.
She tipped her head to the side, brushing back her long auburn hair as she stared at the rusty old pickup he drove. It was parked on
the back road to her daddy's farm, far away from the house and in an area where the cattle hadn't yet been moved to.
He was sitting there silently, just staring out the windshield as she drew her horse to a stop and slowly dismounted.
"Stay, Critter." She patted the horse's mane as she wrapped the lead to the bridle around a branch of a nearby tree and moved toward the truck.
He couldn't have known she would be here. Her father rarely allowed her to ride far from the house.
She watched as he moved, his arm lifting to bring a bottle to his lips, and she winced. It was whisky.
And it was really early in the day to be drinking.
She moved to the passenger side of the truck and knew the moment he realized she was there. No, he hadn't come looking for her, because his entire body seemed to tense.
"Go away, little girl." His voice had a rough, growling tone as she opened the door slowly and lifted herself into the vehicle.
He was so sad. He looked so alone right now. With his shaggy black hair framing his wild face, and those light green eyes swirling with emotions that made her chest ache, even though she didn't know what they were.
He sat stiffly, his left arm down by his side, against the door of the truck, his opposite hand holding that bottle of whisky.
"Not a good place for you to be right now." He lifted the bottle again.
Her daddy had warned her to always be careful of a man while he was drinking. But Cam broke her heart. His expression was ravaged, as it had been at his parents' funeral three years ago.
She reached out and gripped his wrist, feeling the heat of his skin as he stiffened.
"Don't, Cam," she whispered. "You're going to hurt yourself like this."
"So?" His gaze pinned her now, and she had to force herself not to be frightened of him.
She stared back at him desperately, hurting for him, hurting with him.
"Wait on me, Cam. I'll grow up and I'll take all the bad things away." She didn't know where the words came from, or the tears that filled her eyes. She just knew she was going to lose him. Right here, right now, she would lose him forever, and it was terrifying her.