Blaine, Destiny - Domination Plantation [Southern Plantation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (10 page)

Jules shook his head and said, “Jenna, you might as well get used to the closed-door thing. You and I will lock ourselves behind a number of them before I send you back to Alabama.”

Jenna immediately felt the drench of excitement between her thighs. She prayed Jules couldn’t hear her knees knocking together. Her hands trembled so much that she hooked her arms behind her back and tried quite unsuccessfully to steady her shaking limbs.

She stared into the eyes of a woman’s man, a lust-filled individual who looked like he was ready to grab her around the waist and show her what he wanted, what only he or his brother could take. She almost envisioned them thrashing around right there on his leather burgundy couch, the one that looked well worn and probably saw a lot of action considering the sexual nature of the sofa’s owners.

She’d heard about their lifestyle, how they’d mutually shared one girlfriend. The woman had been their submissive lover, complete with a collar around her neck and a leash attached when they took her out in public. While the stories once excited her, hearing Serena ask Jules to open the door brought with it a few too many bad memories, a history she didn’t care to remember.

“So you think I can’t leave now, huh?” She glanced at the knob and the keyhole where an old-fashioned key had been removed. Shit. Maybe, after further observation, she wasn’t going to make a clean break as easily as she’d first thought. “So you locked it?”

He held out his hand, flashing a bronze skeleton key. She stared at the door again, the warded lock holding her attention. She wondered if Serena would peep inside, perhaps keep an eye on her. Right now, she wanted the added security.

Jules extended his arm. “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, inching forward.

“What are you willing to do for it?”

Her pulse raced. “I’m talking about the key.”

“I’m talking about both.”

“Both?” she asked.

“The key and…me.”

“I don’t want you, Jules.” Oh no, she didn’t
want
him. She
needed
him worse than an alcoholic needed the bottle.

“That’s a shame,” Jules said, his legs falling open for the most deliberate of masculine shows. “Would you like to know why?”

“I’d….like….to…Yes,” she finally admitted. “I’d like to know why.”

He bit his dry lip and made a funny little sound. It was one of those rapper sounds, one she’d heard in a rated R movie on more than one occasion. The guttural vocal provided an issued warning destined to make virgins nervous for a mighty good reason.

“I have a problem with you, Jenna, and I’m not the only one. I want you more than I’ve wanted a woman—any woman—in a very long time. And I intend to have you. Brogan’s only one or two days behind me, falling for you that is, and we both want you in our beds, right smack dab in between us.”

She looked down at the shag and definitely dated carpet. Her heart pounded out a significant broken rhythm and her pussy pulsed in rapid vibrations. Her nipples throbbed and her breasts were heavy. She was under a lusty spell, falling victim to a lecherous curse. “Jules, I think I’ve misled you somewhat.” Her heart continued to change beating patterns. It echoed her indecisiveness, beating first one way and then stopping for a second in perhaps a planned pause. Then, it would start up again, only to beat a little faster than the first time.

Jules never moved after he crossed his right leg over his left. The bulge between his thighs gained her attention, kept her attentive eye.

There was another hard rap against the door, and Jenna’s head snapped to attention. She stared at the back wall while Serena screamed, “Uncle Jules! What are you doing in there?”

“Brogan, take Serena for an ice cream or something,” he hollered, loud enough to send chills across Jenna’s spine. This time, he stared at her breasts, and he gave them a piercing look, the kind of attention that made her squeeze her legs together again. Her panties were damp and warm. She was aroused beyond reason, doused in desire beyond comprehension.

“An ice cream?” Jenna asked. “I’d like to go, too. Can I have the key, please?” Her request was quiet. Uncertainty hovered over them. Jenna liked being a tease, but she’d always heard when the right one came along, teasing lost its appeal.

Was Jules one part of the right one? Possibly, she decided. Admittedly, she was seconds away from giving up the game, losing to the winner she wanted to pin with the blue ribbon.

His lips curved in a wicked smile. “Honey, I’ve got plenty right here for you to lick, and you don’t even have to worry about getting choked on the cone. I’ll let you take me nice and easy, wrap your tongue all the way around the shape, too. You can sip the flavor right out of me and swallow all night long.”

Jenna gasped.
Damn.
She was indeed tempted.

She lowered her eyes before she realized what kind of submissive signal she provided. Maybe she was pretty good at those since she grew up watching her mother submit to one asshole after the next. She regretted the gesture because she didn’t want to give Jules the wrong idea. “I need to explain myself.”

“Why don’t you?” Jules patted his knee. “Come on over here and tell me all about it. I won’t touch you unless you want me to, at least not right now.” When he figured out the knee thing didn’t work, he caressed the soft sofa.

Simultaneously Brogan yelled, “Read your text.”

Jenna took a step forward and then another. By the time she reached Jules, he held his phone in hand.

He frowned. After a moment, he tilted his head from side to side. He massaged his neck and then slowly said, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Jenna.” He shoved his phone in her direction, but she didn’t have to guess what kind of text Jules had received. “Is this true?”

Serena had always protected her. Half of the reason she’d entered her twenties as an untouched member of the female population was because of her feelings toward men. The other half was because Serena never allowed her enough of an opportunity to earn the first real kiss, much less take things a step further.

She took a deep breath and read the text.

Back off, Jules. I already told you she’s a virgin. What I haven’t told you is that she’s never been kissed. Her mother’s boyfriends and stepfather abused her. Another man, a man she won’t talk about, did horrible things to her. You’re terrifying her. Unlock this door, and I don’t mean maybe.

“Honey, is this true?”

“Maybe. What does it matter?”

“Give me a straight answer.
Is it true
? Have you been with a man before? I mean, you’re twenty-one years old for God’s sake. You responded to me when we were in the bathroom together. Damn it to hell, I felt your pussy milking my fingers like you knew how to work a man, his hand, or his cock. Answer me, Jenna. How is that possible? How can you know what to do with a man if you’ve never been with one? I need the truth.”

Jenna’s lips quivered. He must’ve seen the impact of his chosen words. His eyes softened. His jaw relaxed.

“It doesn’t make a damn to me one way or the other.”

Maybe not but it mattered to her. She wanted to explain her side of the story without revealing more than necessary. “I’ve never been kissed on the mouth—outside of a peck here or there—or penetrated with a man’s penis, if that’s what you want to know.”

“I see,” Jules said, running a slow hand through his blond hair. “You should’ve told me. You’ve had several opportunities. A good time would’ve been when my fingers were crawling all over you out by the pool. Do you have any idea how far I might have taken things then?”

What about the bathroom?
She thought he had a better chance to do her dirty in Brogan’s large tub.

“I like it when you touch me.”

“You do?” He released what sounded like a burdened sigh. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

“You weren’t touching me for some sort of perverse pleasure. When you touch me, it’s like you want me to enjoy you. It’s as if you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am, Jenna, but I’m not the kind of guy who takes things slow when a woman seems like she’s in a rush for more, do you understand? You would’ve had more intimacy than you bargained for if things had heated up another degree or two.”

She reached for the key. “I’ll do my best to keep my flirting to a minimum. Sound good?”

He pulled his arm back and stared at her lips. “What if I charged you a kiss for this key?”

“I’m not too good with kisses. I’ve never experienced the kind of kiss you want to give me. Well, beyond a few things those men do to women when they are trying to…arouse them.”

Jules looked away then and she wasn’t sure how to translate his demeanor. Maybe he thought she was talking about the way he’d kissed her ankle. It ranked as the most pleasurable kiss she’d ever encountered, but she didn’t tell him.

“I’ve been through therapy,” she quickly added. “I’m not damaged by past experiences. For the record, my mother’s boyfriends and my stepdad didn’t sexually abuse me. My stepdad beat me, but he never placed his hands where they didn’t belong. He turned me over to another man for that, a guy who trains women for submissive positions with their Doms.”

“Come again?”

“He was a family friend, or at least, a friend of my stepdad and some say he actually worked for my real dad at one point, but that doesn’t matter either. Anyway, his name was Cal. He took on a few young subs to train. I met him when I was a few days past my nineteenth birthday. That’s why I have some knowledge. My mother was a submissive woman, too, but I was taught to respect Doms from a trainer paid to teach me.”

“Did you have a choice in the matter?” Jules asked, obviously disgusted and unable to hide his disapproval.

“Subs don’t have choices.”

“Slaves don’t make choices. Submissive women trust their dominant partners to make decisions for them but they aren’t enslaved by their willingness to submit. If anything they’re empowered by it.”

“Can we talk about this another time?” Suddenly Jenna was uncomfortable discussing her history.

She held out her hand and he gripped her wrist. Rather than slide the key into her palm, he tugged her closer, clasping their hands together with entwined fingers. “Tell you what, we’ll take things as slow as you want. You can flirt your ass off and I won’t read anything into it. When you’re ready for something more, you can tell me. Whether it’s a kiss or…well, you know what I’m after. Whatever you want Jenna, I have a feeling, I’ll give it to you.”

* * * *

Relaxing his grip, he unlocked the door and gave her hand a final squeeze.

“Thanks, bro,” Jules said, greeting Brogan.

“Don’t mention it.”

“You two should be ashamed, locking us out of the party!” Serena spat, grinning.

“You have no one to blame but yourself and your superior match-making abilities,” Brogan grumbled, swatting her bottom with a newspaper. “Besides, you had this sort of thing in mind when you decided to spend a month with us. Now go get dressed and get downtown. There’s a new club for college kids and older teens.”

“Really? A new club?” Serena asked. “I bet they serve Shirley Temples and chocolate milk on the rocks. What do you bet, Jenna?”

“Where’s the club?” Jenna asked, distant and obviously uninterested.

“Downtown Abingdon,” Brogan replied. “It’s open every night in the summer. They close about
midnight
.”

“And you think we want to go to a teen club when the best action in town happens right here?” Serena asked. “Oh no, it doesn’t work that way boys. We’re here for the party, day or night. Right, Jenna?”

Jenna and Jules locked gazes, and Brogan groaned.

“It’s the nights that I’m worried about,” Jules admitted.

Jenna remained silent. After her little heart-to-heart with Jules, she wasn’t afraid anymore, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t hide behind saucy words or a flirtatious wink. Instead, she zipped her lips and thought of all sorts of possible outcomes. All scenarios included Jules and Brogan Evans.

Chapter Seven

One week later

“She’s got a string around my cock like it’s a damn yo-yo. I don’t know what to make of her. That woman comes on so strong that I have to keep reminding myself she’s supposedly a virgin. I’ve never met anyone like her. Did you hear about her stepdad from Serena or Jenna?”

“Mostly from Heath.”

Jules paced back and forth, following the fence lining the corral. He stopped and changed directions. “The way she carries on, I don’t think she was abused. I’m telling you, that gal is almost as forward as Marcy Mahoney.”

Brogan’s dick danced when Jules mentioned Marcy. Damn it, Marcy left him forever ruined for another woman, unless Jules was right. If Jenna was more woman than they could handle, then she held certain attributes he’d only found in women like Marcy, and most of them had rolled around in a barn a time or two. He’d watched enough of them in action.

Their place had a reputation for drawing in the ladies that didn’t mind to fuck in broad daylight or with a crowd around to enjoy the show. Everyone around town knew all about the Evans farm. Once they even had an auction to support a local homeless shelter and they raised money by selling off kinky clothing and BDSM gadgets—cuffs, collars, crops, and props. After the benefit, Brogan and Jules became the talk of the town. In the process, they raised over forty thousand dollars for a good cause.