Hot Property (Kingston Bros.) (17 page)

Slowly at first, she rose above him, hungrily watching his expression as she slid him deep within her body. She repeated this motion over and over, gradually gaining speed until she was bouncing energetically in his lap. She was so gorgeous and passionate he wanted to stay like that forever. Instead he grabbed her hips and began thrusting up as she sunk down on him. He was so deep within her tight flesh that he was concerned he might be hurting her, but the expression on her face was one of sublime pleasure.

Unable to hold on much longer, Mark reached between her lovely spread thighs and rubbed her slippery clit in counter-rhythm to the movement of her hips. That was all it took, she cried out his name into the twilight and her inner muscles tightened around his shaft. Plunging deeply, he held still as a powerful orgasm rippled through his body.
 

Minutes later, Serena was curled up in his lap. It was quiet in the truck cab except for the sound of their breathing. Mark smoothed his hand over her hair, and whispered in her ear, "Hey, what about the rest of my fantasy? You're not getting off this easy, you know. Bodyguards don't come cheap."
 

Serena groaned and stirred as little as possible. "Sorry, but my cousin's pool-house is a storage shed now. Not exactly romantic." Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and breathed into his ear. "Want to improvise and try out the public one at the Country Club?"
 

Mark's mouth gaped for a second. His mind raced with the kinky possibilities. "Wow. I'm never going to be bored from this second forward, am I?"

"Nope. Sex in public places, constant arguments, Open Houses, and all my love. How does that sound?" She leaned back and smiled radiantly into his gorgeous face.

"I can't imagine anything better. But I am going to make Jacob build a private pool-house behind my cottage before he leaves for the police academy."

She giggled. "But you don't have a pool. Won't that seem a bit strange?"

Mark looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe we should just buy a place together that already has a pool-house. What do you think?"

Tears stung Serena's eyes. Was he actually proposing that they move in together? She paused, waiting for panic to set in, but it didn't happen. Instead joy and peace washed over her. "I think that's a fabulous idea. Fortunately, I know a really great real estate agent."

"Hmm... so do I. She's pretty damn hot too." He leaned down and kissed her collarbone. "Think she can find us a deal?"

"Possibly. If not, then I'm sure my cousins would be willing to build something for us."

"There's no way I can wait that long to collect my bodyguard fees." He said, pretending to look fierce.

"You don't have to. We can be at the Club-house in less than five minutes." With that she leaned down and opened the passenger side door. Placing a brief kiss on his surprised mouth she slid to the ground and then started running towards the lights in the distance. Before she'd gotten a few steps, she turned back and called back to him. "C'mon. Last one there has to do all the work." She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively and started running again, forgetting completely about Mark's bad knee.

Stunned, Mark watched her for a moment. The golf course was getting dark but her dress flowed behind her like a crimson flag. She had never looked more wild and beautiful to him. Doing up his pants, he climbed down from the truck and followed her at a much slower pace. He had no problem doing all the work once he got there. In fact, he was looking forward to pleasuring the woman he loved all night long. And for the rest of their lives.

Epilogue

Jacob Kingston lowered himself into a chair across from his brother and new sister-in-law. Most of the wedding guests were still dancing and drinking, but Lacey and Jack were cuddled up in a corner by themselves, talking quietly and making plans for the future.

Jacob ignored the intimate scene and pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his tuxedo pants. He fished out some bills and threw them down in front of Jack. "There," he said, pointing at the small pile of green. "I didn't manage to do it by the wedding. But it's done. Jeremy saw them an hour ago, getting all freaky in the front of Mark's truck."

Jack slapped him on the back. "Whoo-hoo! Thank you very much. Sucker. I'll take that." He crowed, pulling his winnings towards him. "Gotta say, you really buggered that one up. If you hadn't tried to convince him that he needed to let her wear the pants in the relationship, he probably would have gone to
Hawaii
after her, and you would have met your deadline. Now, you are shit out of luck, my friend." He made a show of counting the bills.

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck and squinted up at Jack. "What can I say? I miscalculated. How was I supposed to know she'd take off for three weeks? I thought he'd spend a few days acting like Mr. Sensitive, and then he'd lose patience and drag her off to his cave. She's such a workaholic, I never expected her to leave the bloody state."

Jack gave him a pitying look and started re-counting.
 

Just as he was about to tuck the money into his pocket, Lacey put out a delicate hand with the palm up. "Wait a second now." She said, wiggling her fingers. "I'm pretty sure it was my email that made her realize she had feelings for Mark. Shouldn't I get a cut?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

Jack looked at the money and then back at Lacey. He didn't actually care about the cash, but he absolutely hated giving up bragging rights. But he loved his wife more than anything. Reluctantly, he reached over and tucked his winnings into the bodice of Lacey's white dress, taking a thorough inventory of her cleavage in the process. "You're absolutely right. You are the Ultimate, Supreme Matchmaker. Isn't she, Jake?"

"Well, I don't know about that." Jake shrugged. "I admit I screwed this one up, but Ultimate, Supreme Matchmaker? I don't think she's really earned that title."

Lacey narrowed her eyes at him and fished the roll of bills out of her white, lacy corset. She slapped the money down on the table in front of Jacob. "Double or nothing?" She asked, challenging him with her eyes.

He stood up and stretched until his
broad
back cracked. "No way. I'm done with match-making. No time. Important police business to attend to, you know. Besides, this was an easy one. Those two have been hot for each other for years. They just needed a nudge. Now, getting two strangers together. That's a real challenge. When you can do that you'll earn the big title. Until then, you're really just an amateur. Sorry, Lace. Congratulations, by the way, you two." With that he turned on his heel and made a beeline for Cherry, who was waiting on the dance floor for him.

Jack watched Lacey carefully. He didn't like the expression on her face one bit.

"H
e's next, isn't he?" Jack asked
gathering up the cash and tucking it back into her cleavage again.

"Oh yeah. Jacob is going to get matched. Whether he likes it or not."

"Wow. Pregnancy is making you all ruthless. I like it." Jack laughed and pulled her onto his lap.
 

"He shouldn't have messed with me and my hormones." She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. They both watched Jacob slow dancing with
Cherry, admirin
g how the profusion of white fairy lights illuminated the inside of the tent.

"Should I be worried for him?" Jack asked after a few minutes, rubbing her back.

"Jack, would I match him with someone inappropriate? Jacob loves a challenge and also suffers from 'white knight syndrome.' Whoever I find will fit both those criteria. And will be wonderful. Now how bad could this turn out exactly?"

Jack thought for a moment. "Not sure, but I can't wait to find out." And then he kissed his bride and all thoughts of Jacob and his impending match flew from his head. He always made pleasuring his wife his top priority. And that was just as it should be for a man so deeply in love.

THE END

Also Available
Open House ~ (
Kingston
Brothers: Volume 1)
By
Tamara Larson
Chapter One

“It’s huge!” Lacey exclaimed, angling her head to get a better look. “That
is way more than I can handle.”

“You’re ex
aggerating. It’s average size.”

“Are you kidding me? Look how deep it goes.” Lacey pointed. “How would you even keep it clean wi
thout help. You’d need a crew.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. We’ve had way bigger and a c
leaning crew was not required.”

“This is a waste of time.”

“Just look then.”

“The more I look at it. The more I want it. This is such a bad idea!” Lacey bit her lip, but mo
ved forward tentatively anyway.

“Just relax. Maybe you’ll like it. Maybe you won’t. There’s only one way to find out
and that’s to take the plunge.”

Lacey and her mom were standing on the sidewalk discussing the four large, craftsman-style, row-houses before them. The attractive properties were set far back from the road, and flower beds lined the cobblestone paths leading to each front door. Most importantly to Lacey and Diana Ferguson, there was a large, bright 'Show Home - Open House Today' s
ign perched on the front lawn.

They had arrived just minutes before the Open House closed at four, so the late March sunshine highlighted the external features of the homes. Each of the four dwellings was painted a different color. As Lacey walked from her car she noticed that all of the front doors had their own distinctive style as well. The row-house on the end with the sign in front was painted a lovely sage green and featured an imposing arched red door with black twining ironwork, like a castle, while the yellow one next to it had a delicate-looking, mostly etched glass door. She couldn’t help being charmed by their individuality. Obviously the builders, The Kingston Brothers, didn't want their homes to resemble the typical cookie-cutter houses seen in most sub
urban real estate developments.

“Alright, Mom. Let’s go in,’ Lacey said, turning onto the path to the Open House. “But this is our last one today, okay? It’s torture looking at al
l these places I can’t afford.”

“Lacey, as I’ve told you, many, many times. There’s always room for negotiation. The list price is merely a suggestion,” Diana Ferguson said, stepping around her daughter a
nd leading the way up the path.

“If you say so,” Lacey said doubtfully. “But I can’t help feeling like we’re here under false pretenses. Like I’m pretending that I can afford something like this, when we both know I’d have to take a second job, and possib
ly sell a kidney to afford it.”

“The real estate agent has to sit there anyway, dear. And I don’t see any other cars here, do you?” Actually there was a sleek white Mercedes parked in front of Lacey’s car at the curb, and a large, shiny, black pick-up truck in the driveway of the Show Home, but Diana ignored them. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to have us come in and distract th
em for a few minutes.”

Lacey rolled her eyes, but followed her mother reluctantly. “Okay, but just a quick tour, okay? Let’s not waste their time w
ith a lot of questions, right?”

“Of course not, dear. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Diana grinned at her daughter and Lacey was certain her mom was going to be grilling the real estate agent within seconds of stepping through the door. Lacey loved her quiz-master mom, but she certainly didn’t endear herself to the real estate professionals, who really just wanted her to go away, or better yet, pu
t in an offer and then go away.

Lacey and her mom were seasoned house hunters. They had been looking for a new home for Lacey for the past eight months, without much luck. A recent promotion to Clinical Resource Nurse at The Health Unit where she worked had allowed her the option of finally moving out of her tiny rental apartment. But finding the right place was proving to be much more difficult than she’d anticipated. Everything they looked at was much too small, too old, or w
ay too expensive.

The Show Home they were currently looking at was their third property that day, and it was way above her budget. But she had jogged past the row-houses many times as they were being built, and the quaint style had charmed her. When she spotted the Open House sign on the lawn earlier that day, she cou
ldn’t resist checking them out.

Lacey admired the home’s quaint front porch as she climbed the wide stairs. Mentally she was already seeing the white wicker chair she would place to the left of the bright red door. Trailing behind her mother she imagined they were walking into her house rather than a Show Home. It was just a fantasy, but she really could see herself
living in one of these places.

This particular property was in the perfect subdivision, just minutes away from her mom’s house and work. And best of all, the real estate developers had retained many of the mature trees and landscaping that had existed when this area had been army housing. So, it looked like an older, well-established neighborhood but it was gloriously fresh and new, with all the modern design features she had been lusting after from watching the Home and Ga
rden Channel like it was porn.

“Hello,” Diana called as she turned the knob and poked her head in. “Yoo-hoo. Are we
too late for the Open House?” 

“C’mon in. There’s plenty of time,” A friendly female voic
e answered from down the hall.

Diana wiggled her eyebrows at Lacey. She was in her element. Looking at real estate was a game to her. Having bought and sold more than fifteen homes over the past thirty years she loved the challenge of negotiating with real estate agents an
d getting the very best price.

At 55, Diana Ferguson was still slim and attractive. Her blonde hair had faded and she had a tendency to wear high-waisted mom jeans, and oversized sweatshirts, but it was easy to believe she had once been a great beauty. Many people underestimated her because of her sweet appearance and kind nature, but underneath that maternal exterior lurked the heart of a born h
ardcore negotiator.

Today Diana was thrilled to be checking out homes in this particular neighborhood. She wanted her daughter to live close by and in a safe environment. The sooner Lacey was out of the dumpy apartment she was currently living in, the happier Diana would be.
They left their shoes outside and stepped into the Show Home’s impressive hallway. The sight of beautiful, shiny, hardwood floors and high ceilings greeted them and Lacey gave a gasp of delight when she saw the crystal wall sconces lighting their way toward the kitchen. She pointed at them, and mouthed, “Those are gorgeous,” to her mother. Diana nodded vigorously and they continued into the Great Room. It was always their strategy to appear cool and detached from the properties they looked at, but usually they failed miserably at this and ended up gushing uncontrollabl
y over the features they liked.

Entering the open concept kitchen and living area, Lacey stopped in her tracks and reached out a hand to touch the object of beauty before her. “I think I just fell in love,” she said over her shoulder to her mother. The two strangers standing at the counter both chuckled at her reaction to the giant island of grey-flecked, white granite she was currently fondling. “Where have you been all my life?” she asked no one in particular. Looking up she smiled at the people watching h
er molest the kitchen island. 

The woman, obviously a real estate agent, held out her hand and introduced herself as Serena Garrison. She was tall, blonde and coolly elegant in her white blouse, black skirt and spiky black stilettos. Lacey reluctantly took one hand off the granite, and returned the handshake, suddenly quite self-conscious about her sloppy jeans, long-sleeved T-shirt and bare feet. She really wished she hadn’t let her best friend’s nine-year-old daughter paint her toe nails in a particularly horrendous shade of acid green. Bella wasn’t terribly careful about restricting the polish to nails, and the result made Lacey’s toes look like she’d dipped them in toxi
c waste.

"Hi Serena, I’m Lacey, and this is my mother, Diana." Her mother stepped up next to Lacey to admire the island. Serena smiled warmly, welcomed both ladies, and handed them each copies of the row-house information sheet. Lacey liked her instantly, but was curious why she didn’t introduce the tall, dark figure who was watching this scene unfold without saying a single word. Must be her boyfriend, she thought. Lucky, lucky girl. Who didn’t
like the strong, silent type?

She tried not to stare. She really did. But the last time she'd been this close to a guy who looked like he’d just stepped out of a beefcake calendar was probably at her friend Liz's thirtieth birthday party. Lacey had drank way too many lemon drop martinis and ended the evening by groping one of the sweaty Chippendales dancers, much to everyone’s amusement. And that was more than three years ago. So, while her mother chatted with Serena about the features of the home, and his attention was diverted by their conversation, Lacey allowed herself a sneaky side glance at him. A glance that turned into a stare which lingered for just a minute or two lon
ger than was absolutely polite.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed across his wide chest. She could clearly see how the fabric of his blue plaid shirt strained against powerful biceps.  The kitchen area was wide and airy, with extremely high vaulted ceilings, but he still seemed to dwarf the room. Casually, she pretended to look out the window next to him but was actually trying to see if his bottom half was as impressive as the top. It was. At least what she could see. Unfortunately, his shirt was too long do a thorough examination, but she noted that he wore loose black jeans an
d extremely large suede boots.

His dark, silky hair was just a little too long to look professional and his nose looked like it had been broken more than once, but overall everything about him made her sigh inwardly in appreciation. This was not a pretty man. He was entirely too rugged to be called handsome or cute. He looked like the broody, intense type. Or perhaps he was more like a conquering warrior, bent on vengeance. Obviously she'd been reading too many novels featuring highlanders lately. She resolved to read something less stimulating in the future. Her libido sudden
ly seemed to be in hyper-drive.

Deciding that she’d ogled him for long enough Lacey turned reluctantly back toward her mother and Serena. Joining the conversation seemed like a great distraction from staring at the silent, sexy giant. Hopefully he hadn't noticed that her attention had not been focused on whatever Serena had been saying about the features of the home.
Did she honestly think he was oblivious to the way she had been staring at him? Jack thought to himself incredulously. The curvy little brunette with the biggest smile he’d ever seen had been eyeing him like a prime cut of beef at the supermark
et for the past three minutes.

Her stare should have felt intrusive or even downright offensive, but instead he found himself liking the way her eyes wandered over him with such honest interest. He liked it a lot. But it had been so long since he’d even been aware of a woman that he really wasn’t sure how to react. What were the rules now? He had no idea. His last experience with this had been in college. Surely, things had changed in the 10 years since he’d graduated. Should he stare back at her? Ignore her? Wait and see what she did? Slip her his number? Cop a feel? No, definitely not. That
would get him a slap for sure.

He’d been tempted to ask her if she liked what she saw, but was fairly certain she would have panicked and grown flustered if he’d acknowledged her blatant perusal of his body. It might have been amusing to watch her recover from her embarrassment, but he really wanted to feel her eyes on him again. And that was unlikely to happen if he confronted her. He was just glad he’d left his shirt untucked or she’d really have gotten an eyeful of his body’s reaction to being visually assaulted. Mr. Happy could pound
nails right about now.

He couldn't figure it out. This woman wasn't even his type. His wife had been fair-skinned, ash-blonde and as tall and thin as a runway model. Lacey was olive-skinned and petite, maybe a few inches over five feet. Usually, his size made him feel clumsy around small women, but not with her. She was perfectly curved, and fit-looking with a small waist and gently flaring hips. Her face was expressive with huge vivid blue eyes that contrasted with her darker skin and hair. But the most striking thing about her was her smile. It was huge and open and made him want to amuse her, just so he could see it again and again. He had never seen someone smile so often and with such genuine warmth in such a short period of time. No denying it, he lik
ed what he saw.