Green Broke Woman (30 page)

She cherished the
words, wishing they could act on them. “You were always on my mind, too. I
didn't forget you. I couldn't.”

He leaned ever so
slightly like he would kiss her before clearing his throat and setting the
plate down. “I went back for you, you know, after my mama ... passed away.”

His words moved
through her like a gentle summer night breeze, warm and refreshing. “You did?”

Virgil turned to
face her again. “Yeah, I rang the doorbell to the Hammond Estate once they
finally let me in the gate, but they said you didn't live there anymore.”

“When was that?”

He thought back for
a moment. “It was about a month ago.”

“They lied. I was
still there. Beck took away my cell phone and driver's license and kept me
prisoner in his house.” She shook her head, averting her gaze. “God, you were
right there. If I'd known how close a friend was, that you cared enough to come
back...”

“
Shh
.” He brushed her cheeks with his hands, threading his
fingers in her hair. “It's okay. You're safe now.”

“Thank you for
going back for me.”

“No problem. I was
devastated when I thought you'd moved on and you never answered your cell phone.
Now it all makes sense.”

He lightly kissed
her forehead with hooded eyes, making her heart clench and her throat ache. She
really wanted him and Master Hugh to stay, but not at the expense of losing
Travis, Jake, and Keith. Why couldn't she have all the men she loved? Why must
she choose?

All those men at Beck's were right about you,
dirty slut.

“I love you,
honey,” Virgil said in a tender hush.

Kayla nuzzled his
caressing hand with her cheek. “I love you, too.”

His deep gaze
consumed her as he leaned in, brushing her lips with his. His breath sizzled
against her skin in a balmy exhale, making the moment as spiritual as it was
sensual. She heard a noise and jerked her head back before his tongue could
penetrate her.

He looked
disappointed by her retreat, but he seemed to understand. “I've got to take
Hugh his coffee.”

“I'll do it.”

Her fingers
trembled as she selected a mug that was as close to the ones her Master used to
drink from as possible. She poured the scalding coffee into the mug,
remembering that he liked it black.

Virgil's hand
touched her wrist, scintillating through the material covering her skin. “He
still cares about you, too, Kayla. That cold, cynical indifference—it's just a
mask he wears. Underneath that tough, devil-may-care attitude I've got a hunch
he's a big softy.”

She got a warm,
fuzzy feeling deep inside her when she recalled that Hugh had indeed been a
tender human being with emotions buried deep beneath layers of sarcasm and
cynicism. He'd seen things and probably done things he wasn't proud of, but
she'd made him feel once and watched him act on those feelings.

“Thank you,” she
whispered, heading into the living room with the hot mug of Joe.

Master Hugh's eyes
lifted to hers briefly before dropping to the mug in her hands. He took the
cup, setting it aside on a coaster. “Thanks.”

Her arms ached to
hold him just as her lips tingled with the need to feel Virgil's mouth
devouring hers in a time-stopping kiss. She sat on the floor by her Master's
feet with her left side leaning up against the bottom portion of the couch.

Master Hugh
observed her in silence before going back to his silent pondering. He made a
teepee with his aged hands, staring off into the various possibilities he
likely mulled over. Finally he spoke in a calming voice. “You don't have to sit
at my feet, Kayla.”

“I wanted to.”

His leg was so
close. She could reach out and hug his limb, kissing it in adoration like she
used to.

No. He'd find her
desperate.

“You don't need my
permission to use the furniture. You're not my slave anymore.”

The words dug at
her soul like a ruthless spade on solid ground. Did they pain him like they
hurt her? Not if his far-off, enigma-solving glaze was anything to go by.

“I'm comfortable,
M—Hugh.”

The silence was so
loud she could hear the coffeemaker percolating again. How much of the dark
brew did Virgil plan on making this morning?

“Have you been up
all night?” she asked.

The wheels in
Master's head continued to turn.
“
Mmhmm
.”

“Well, I'll let
you think. Goodbye now.”

“Kayla.”

Where the other
men would touch her to get her attention or hinder an action, all this man had
to do was speak and she obeyed.

“Yeah?”

“The things I said
to you the day you came across me talking to that man in L.A.—I didn't mean any
of them.” Master Hugh finally looked at her with a solemn, caring expression on
his face. “That was Romanov's old cell mate. For a price he was willing to
spill what he knew of Black Dragon, but I couldn't take the risk of being seen
with you in public after Romanov started pinching off my exes. That and I
worried the man I was talking to might not be on the level. I didn't want him
leaking information about you or our history to the psychopath, or you'd have
ended up dead like the others.”

“I understand.”
She'd figured as much after hearing him talk last night, but hearing him
confirm her theory proved consoling.

“It killed me to
say those things to you.” The silent regret in his sympathetic eyes told even
more than he could have said.

“It hurt me to
hear them.” Her ducts turned dewy, but she held herself together as she scooted
closer and wrapped an arm around his leg, clasping his hand in hers. “But I understand
why you did it. None of that matters anymore. I just want...”

The verbal account
of her secret dreams trailed off. It was best not to embarrass
herself
by sharing her undisclosed yearning to belong to all
five of them.

Master Hugh said
nothing at first, but she had a feeling he knew what it was she wanted deep
down. “When Virgil told me you'd disappeared, I panicked. Then when you left
that voice mail on my phone I was able to breathe again.”

“When you went on
that cinnamon rant on the phone, was that for my benefit?” She beamed at his
nod.

“I had to speak in
code in case Romanov found some way to bug my cell phone. I didn't figure he had
since it's always with me, but I had to be safe.” Master grazed the top of her
hand with his thumb in soft, delicate strokes. “Once I knew you were safe here,
I quit worrying, but I stayed away to keep Romanov from finding you. He called
me yesterday on my cell phone. For the life of me I can't figure out how he got
my number, probably from Julianne when he broke into her house and abducted
her. He said he knew about you and that you lived in Lexington.”

Kayla gave him a
questioning look as she ran her hand up the inside of his thigh, groping closer
and closer to the steadily perking package she really wanted to touch. She
would behave herself, though ... if she had to.

“How does Black
Dragon know where I live?”

He shrugged.
“Beats me.
He even knew the address and the names of the
boys. As soon as I heard that, I caught a flight here.”

“When I was at the
mall the other day somebody left a note in my purse. The police have it now,
but I remember the gist of it. Beck and Slade threatened me. Not sure which of
them stuck the letter in my purse, but I didn't recognize the other man's
writing. It basically said that he was waiting for you, and he signed it B.D.
for Black Dragon.”

Master withdrew
into himself again, thinking hard. “So he knows Hammond and the piss poor excuse
of a bodyguard you had, interesting. Did you ever meet him?”

She shook her
head, heart racing with want when she saw his groin puff up and caught the
smoldering fire in his heated gaze. “I doubt it. I never met anybody named
Romanov or who had a Russian accent or name.”

“Maybe you met him
and didn't realize it,” he murmured, tracing hedonistic circles in her palm,
before trailing his finger through the lines.

The motion
tickled, but his finger on her and that hard, searing “I want you” stare made
her guts twist with carnal longing. “I think I would know if I'd met a
psychotic Russian killer.”

“Why are your
hands on my body?” he asked in a breathy tone.

Her pussy
moistened, and her stomach clenched with mounting arousal. “I thought your leg
might be sore from sitting up all night.”

“It is, but it's
not the only part of me that hurts.”

The hard intensity
of his electrifying blue stare was like a blowtorch to her riled sex drive. His
hand slid upward, pushing the sleeve of her hoodie back so his finger could
draw invisible patterns on her ultrasensitive wrist. Darn his prowess. He
remembered how strongly that affected her.

She lost her
breath when he forced the sleeve up even higher on her arm, his ardent leer
somehow hungrier.

“What else is
sore?” she whispered. “I can massage away the pain.”

His pupils dilated
as he moved her hand to his crotch. His rigid cock lifted beneath the light
weight of her hand. The subtle motion of sexual interest riled her passion. She
ran her hand slowly along the appetizing length, recalling every delicious detail
of his erection.

Her eyes rose to
meet his hard, devouring stare. She circled her thumb around the head of his
penis, making the tip twitch and bob in response. She held eye contact with him
as her fingers journeyed back and forth in a gentle sweep over his thickening
shaft.

She went
breathless when his hand wound tightly in her tresses, and he pushed her head
down between his spread legs. The scent of his lust overpowered her with an
ecstasy so intense she felt dizzy and feverish. Kissing his crotch in
appreciation, she reached for his fly, disappointed and frustrated when he
clasped her wrist still.

Kayla grazed her
teeth over the denim, displaying her starvation for his juicy meat. She
bestowed fervent kisses on his increasing length, growing hotter and wilder
when his grip in her hair tightened, immobilizing her further. Her lips parted,
and she sucked on the coarse smoothness of his jeans, pressing her lips firmly
against his cock, sucking hard on the clothing that separated them from
gratification.

Master Hugh lost
himself to a long groan that seemed to be equal parts lust and frustration. He
heaved an annoyed sigh and pulled her head up, studying her with undying need.
“Are you their sub or their slave?”

Guilt shot through
her. Loyalty to the
Langleys
demanded she scoot her
butt away from him, but an indomitable devotion to her first and only Master
left her paralyzed to the floor, swimming in the sea of exasperation his eyes
had shifted to.

“Their
sub.”

It had never
occurred to her that to kiss him there would be wrong. Had any other man wanted
her to do that other than the five men currently under this roof, she would
have refused and felt ashamed and disloyal if coerced into such relations.

But Hugh Langley
was different. He and Virgil were every bit as dear to her as the three Langley
brothers. Showing them affection and caring touches didn't feel wrong or
disloyal to her.

Shake out of that twisted mindset, you dirty
slut. Travis, Jake, and Keith probably wouldn't like it if you got their uncle
off.

Master—No, he
wasn't her Master anymore—Hugh observed her in the awkward silence, though he
seemed unfazed by the lack of conversation. He didn't look guilty like she did.
Merely dedicated to whatever decision his mind had arrived at.

“I mean it's not
official yet or anything.”

Like that will make it better, Kayla. This
was probably some Dom test they all arranged and you failed.

Her eyes stung.
Great, she'd lost them all.

Goodbye now.

Hugh continued to
watch her with a poker face that betrayed none of his thoughts or motives.
“Under Consideration?”

She shook her
head, trying to blink back the urge to cry and the flush of embarrassment that
swept over her downcast face. “No. They're training me. I just agreed to it
yesterday.”

After a long,
heavy silence, he breached the void with a calm, interrogative voice. “Look at
me.”

She balled her
hands in her lap, fighting to defy him. Did she really want to look at him when
she was so ashamed of her conduct?

“Look at me right
now, slave,” he ordered in a low tone she knew meant business.

Her head
involuntarily moved so she met his soul-searching orbs. He called her
slave
. Why did she respond? He wasn't
her Master anymore. Why did it still feel like he was?

“Why are you a sub?”
Hugh's question caught her completely off guard.