Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (7 page)

“Good morning to you, too,” Brand said, heading for the coffee.

“You look freshly fucked,” Colt remarked coolly, bringing his cup to his lips.

“Don’t I wish,” Kemper grumbled, dragging his ass to the bedroom.

“Long night?” Colt asked, pissed because these two never could seem to keep their dicks in their pants. They needed to remember why they were there.

Brand sat in front of him. “It’s not how it looks.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Colt said, his gaze meeting Brand’s.

“Actually we do,” Brand said, rubbing his nape. “Unfortunately.”

Colt lowered the newspaper. Brand looked troubled. Wherever he spent the night, he definitely hadn’t slept. “You hired those escorts for companionship. You were supposed to buy their dinner, send them home after dessert without partaking in anything more.”

Brand’s nostrils flared. “We did all that. Surely you don’t think we fucked those women. We’re here for Kelly, Colt.”

“Really?” Colt asked, lifting the paper again. Glancing at the sports section, he added, “Kemper obviously doesn’t want you to tell me so it can be your dirty little secret, but I hope you wore a condom. God knows if we all end up in Kelly’s bed again, I don’t want to worry about where you guys have been.”

Brand slammed his hand against Colt’s paper. Jolting to attention, Colt narrowed his eyes on his fellow operative. “What the hell is going on?”

“We didn’t fuck those girls.”

Colt sneered. “Then spit it out. What happened that’s got your undies bunched? It can’t be as bad as your theatrics suggest.”

Falling against the sofa cushions, Brand ran his hand down the length of his face. “I’m afraid it is.”

Colt leaned forward, dropping his hands in between his splayed legs. “What can be worse?”

Kemper entered the room. “We lost a lot of money at the tables last night.”

“You what?” Colt roared with anger, coming to his feet.

“We lost a good chunk of change,” Kemper repeated himself.

Colt’s gaze bounced between Kemper and Brand. “How much?”

“The entire expense account,” Kemper replied.

“Are you out of your fucking minds?” Colt asked, stomping to the window then pacing like a caged lion, circling them like a predator taunting his prey. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“We can explain, Colt,” Brand told him calmly.

Colt glared at him. “I doubt that.”

“If you’ll calm down and listen, we can.”

“Don’t say another word until he sits down,” Brand said.

Kemper poured a cup of coffee and leaned over the wet bar. “He’s not our daddy. If he’d been in the same spot as we were, he would’ve bet the bank, too.”

“It’s not my bank we’re discussing here. Nor was it yours.” Colt ran his fingers through his hair, growing more and more irritated by the second. “This mission was not a field trip to the casino!”

“We know that, Colt. It was a life-or-death situation,” Kemper said.

“A life-or-death situation?” Colt asked, his voice pitched an octave higher. “How do you figure?”

His veins pulsed with anger. He needed to hit something. He wanted to deck his fellow operatives. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.

“What the hell, what the hell,” Colt muttered. “Our expense account had over a million dollars in it for this job. Are you telling me it’s gone?”

“Every penny,” Kemper said, seemingly unbothered by the fact.

“Fuck,” Colt grated out, turning his head sideways and trying to think of what to do. Daniel would have their heads. “I’ll talk to Kelly. Maybe she can return some of the money to the Underground Unit account. I’ll let her know we’ll pay it back—every single dime.”

“That won’t work,” Kemper said, rubbing his nearly bald head. After ten years in the military, Kemper kept his hair trimmed close to his head. Good thing, too. After this stunt, he was lucky he didn’t have hair to lose. Colt might have pulled out every strand, plucked one lock at a time.

“Why won’t it work?” Colt asked. “Please tell me you weren’t playing at another casino.”

“Oh no, we were here all night,” Brand said.

“Then I’ll talk to Kelly,” Colt said, pursuing the door. He’d set the alarm so he could get in a good workout. The last thing he wanted to do was stand there and listen to these two as they sputtered their excuses. He’d run out his frustrations on the treadmill.

“Kelly can’t help us,” Brand told him before he exited the suite. “I mean, I guess she could, but then it would be a handout.”

“I’m tired of dancing here, boys,” Colt said. “Spit it out or don’t waste my time.”

Kemper walked over to the sitting area. He set his mug on the coffee table and looked at Colt. “You have to remain calm, Colt. We need to tell you the whole story before you go the hell off. Deal?”

Colt’s pulse raced. They were easing their way around the conversation, and he suddenly didn’t think this had anything to do with losing over a million dollars from their expense account. There was a bigger picture, and if he cared to guess, Kelly was at the base of the frame. His throat constricted. He felt pressure in his temple, an early sign of a headache.

“Before we tell you what happened, you have to promise you’ll remain professional. Remember why we’re here. We have a job to do.”

“What happened to Kelly?” he asked tersely.

“We were on our way back from dinner,” Kemper began, a true master at storytelling. “We heard about your little rendezvous in the elevator and apparently Lorenzo caught wind of the action, too, which confirms my suspicions all along. I figured if Lorenzo kept moving his people in here, he had a few of them in place in various areas of the casino. Turns out, I must’ve been right.”

“Skip the part about how you’re always right,” Brand told him, then looked at Colt. “Someone from security alerted Lorenzo to a problem. By this time, Lorenzo’s guests were leaving the restaurant—if we learned anything at all about Lorenzo last night, it’s that he is overly concerned with appearances—so he quickly made a few excuses about how he was needed for a security matter and said his good-byes. A few minutes later, he’s storming through the lobby.”

“Since elevator four was stopped in the shaft, you can imagine his fury,” Kemper said, a grin tilting his lips. “I’ll have to say, watching him was priceless. He stood there in the lobby staring up at the lighted number twelve, waiting for the elevator to move while barking orders at security. Apparently, someone upstairs could’ve gotten the lift repaired, emergency stop or not.”

“Get to the heart of the story. I’m not particularly fond of taking Sunday drives when the journey isn’t leading anywhere.”

Kemper and Brand gave one another a knowing glance. Brand took a weighted breath. “Crue called. They had the camera on our room and Kelly’s. You missed Lorenzo by maybe two minutes. Lorenzo was ruthless with his badgering once he returned to their suite. Crue and Gabe, apparently used to his tactics and the way he’s confronted Kelly in the past, saw where their night was heading.”

“Where the night was heading,” Colt said quietly, thinking of Kelly’s hot, curvy body wrapped around his as he’d pounded against her. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d wanted a woman more. Then, unexpectedly, he regained his sensibilities. What sorry luck he had. He’d wanted to fuck Kelly in that elevator. He’d longed to take her, stroke her, just be inside her, but somewhere in the midst of foreplay, he’d gained a conscience. He didn’t want to take her until he knew for sure what she was doing. And he’d known with absolute certainty, if he’d taken her then, he’d never let her lie down beside that bastard again. Unfortunately, he’d wanted to make sure she understood his rules, too, before she played with fire.

Kemper snapped his fingers in front of his face. “That must’ve been some elevator ride.”

“It was,” Colt admitted and then quickly added, “Get to the point.”

“Crue and Gabe set up a poker game and lured Lorenzo out of the suite by inviting him to a high-stakes game with high rollers,” Kemper explained.

“And you were the high rollers?”

“Yes,” Brand replied. “We had the money for the show.”

“And not one ounce of a poker player’s education,” Colt pointed out. “Why didn’t Crue call me? Hell, for that matter, why didn’t he send Gabe or play himself?”

“They needed to keep an eye on Kelly. They were afraid Lorenzo might send someone else in to finish the job.”

“Finish the job?” Colt asked, every muscle in his body tightening. “Did he hurt Kelly?”

“He knocked her around a lot. Apparently he threatened to kill her if she didn’t tell him why you were here. We think he knows who you are and what you do, which would indicate a security breach somewhere. He accused Kelly of calling you in, and he’s demanding to know why you’re here.”

“Son of a bitch!” Colt opened the door.

“Colt, don’t go over there,” Kemper said, rushing him. “She’s probably asleep. Besides, there’s nothing to worry about right now. Lorenzo is downstairs celebrating his win.”

“Of course he is,” Colt said, all the more furious as he considered the fact that Lorenzo’s sorry ass walked away with a million dollars of the Underground Unit’s money. “Is Kelly okay?”

“Crue said it wasn’t the worst he’d seen, but she fought back. Evidently, her retaliation caught him off guard. He’s on to you. We know that for sure,” Kemper said.

“He’s suspicious of us, too,” Brand added. “He saw us behind the restaurant greeting her and he knows we’re old friends, but during the game last night, we told him our connection with Kelly goes way back and we’re old family friends.”

“Did he buy it?”

“Yeah,” Brand replied.

“No,” Kemper said.

Colt threw up his hand. “I’m going to the gym. You guys get some rest. I need to figure out how I can lure Lorenzo out tonight for a real poker game, one where he walks away from the table feeling the loss.”

* * * *

Kelly gripped the handles on the bicycle and pedaled like crazy. She closed her eyes, feeling the burn in her thighs, appreciating the tightness in her calves. If a woman wanted a good body, she had to work for it, and God knew, she’d tried to lose the weight she’d gained. In the past year, she’d put on about thirty pounds. Colt hadn’t noticed, or if he had, he hadn’t said anything.

She pedaled faster and faster.
Ah, Colt
. Her moist pussy against the triangular seat became highly sensitive and she leaned forward, rubbing her clit against the leather, grinding her cunt as she pumped her legs. She thought of Colt’s lips on her neck, his cock pressing against her hip as his mouth claimed hers and their bodies came together like a sizzling electric current forced them together.

The door behind her slammed, and her head snapped forward. Her eyes widened as she focused on the floor-to-ceiling mirrors in front of her. She slowed her pace, scooting her bottom back on the seat before sitting upright.

“Colt,” she whispered, realizing he would be alarmed by her appearance.

He stood right inside the door, gaping at her in the mirror as if he were too pained by what he saw to approach her. The swell of her left cheek, the bluish color around her right eye, and the small slit above her lip proved she had lost a battle, but more than anything else, it provided proof of a fight.

“What in God’s name has he done to you?” He remained motionless. Except for the clenching of his fists, he didn’t move a muscle.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she said, her workout effort null and void once he entered the gym. Leaving the bike, she grabbed a fresh towel from a nearby table and patted her face, wiping away the small beads of sweat.

“I’ll kill him,” Colt rasped.

Detecting the danger in his voice, the pain lingering behind his steady tone, she cautiously approached him. “Colt, you don’t understand this. You have to trust me and stay out of it.”

“Like hell I do!” he screamed, placing his hand on the door lever.

Before he could leave, she rushed him. Grabbing his forearm with both hands, she shook him. “Listen to me, Colt. You have to listen to me.” She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath. “Nothing is as it seems.”

“Is that a fact?” he asked, brooding. His fierce gaze met hers. “So let me guess. You were sleepy this morning and you fucked up with your makeup applications?”

“If I told you it was so, would you believe me? Would you let this thing die?” she asked, knowing she didn’t stand a chance.

“Ah, baby,” he whispered, gently cupping her cheek as moisture pooled in his eyes. “You know I can’t let this go.”

She caught her breath when he touched her. That gentle hand of his would eventually be her undoing. Since the night before, her thoughts had been centered around him. Oh sure, she’d lain awake many nights and fantasized about Crue and the others, too, but last night? Her thoughts had been devoted to Colt. He’d awakened feelings inside her, emotions she was certain had long since been dead and buried.

She’d heard him the night before when he’d professed his love. Somewhere deep down inside, she’d always known how he’d felt about her, but love? She wasn’t expecting him to say that he loved her. Men like Colt knew better than to love. They protected their hearts at all costs and, in doing so, saved their potential partners a lot of grief.

She’d seen what men like Sam Kane and Brock Donovan’s father had suffered. The Underground Unit operatives often paid their dues with their lives. The women, like Sydney Kane Donovan for example, often ended up in the cross fire, and they never had true peace of mind. Women involved with the Underground Unit and their men often spent their entire lives looking over their shoulders.

“Colt.” She lowered her voice. “Please trust me on this. You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”

As if she’d delivered a blow across his face or a direct punch in the gut, Colt backed away from her. His eyes were wild, ablaze with fury. “Fuck me.”

The phrase was not, by any means, used as a means of seduction or a sexy little demand. She’d said too much, or he’d read plenty into what little information she supplied.

“Oh no,” she muttered, fully realizing he knew what she was now. He realized what she’d become.