Loch and Key (21 page)

“Mm. Well, as lovely as it was chatting with you charming gals, I think I’ll go and chat with the guys.”

Which, she realized as she strode away, would probably just make them hate her more. Oh well, it’s not like she had a chance at befriending them. Clearly they weren’t open to newcomers. Or maybe, she was really just in over her head.

Her stride faltered as she looked at the group of men talking and joking by the grill. They all had that commanding presence and self-important attitude. Even Brett did to an extent, but these guys seemed to swim in it.

She envisioned the wives, so uptight and haughty. Likely feeling just as self-important being the
wife
of a chief, as if they’d assumed the position themselves.

And here she was. The new girlfriend showing up to the camping trip. Somewhat immune to Brett’s importance in his career. Yes, she was proud of him and his position, but she hadn’t been by his side while he made the climb. These ladies had, and they resented her presence here. Saw her as temporary.

Which, she was, right? Brett had said that once, and though he’d hinted maybe there could be more, did he really want that? Did she?

Or maybe it was as the women had insinuated. Maybe she was just the waitress Chief Craven was passing time with. Even as her mind and heart called bullshit on that idea, a tiny part of her kept whispering
what if?

And the same question that had been going through her mind for weeks now, came back again.

Even if Brett was willing, did she want more than that…?

From the corner of his eye, Brett saw her crossing the campsite toward him.

The guys were talking baseball and work, drinking a few beers. But the tension in Kenzie’s body and unhappiness in her eyes had concern swelling inside him.

He walked away from the men and met her halfway.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He kept his voice low.

She gave a tight smile. “Can we walk for a bit?”

“Of course.” He set his beer down on the picnic table and reached to take her hand in his. His concern grew.

Once they were a good distance from the campsite, and strolling along the beach, he gave her another glance.

“What’s going on?”

“Those women are awful, Brett,” she said softly. “I don’t know if I can make it a whole weekend with them.”

“How so? I saw you guys talking and figured you were getting along.”

She snorted. “If by getting along you mean turning me into a human piñata, than aye. We were getting along fine. They’re catty, and mean, and I don’t fit in with them the least bit.”

His mouth thinned. Shit. He knew they tended to be a little cliquish together, but he hadn’t realized they were that bad. Then again he spent his time with the guys and the women often did their own thing and were pleasant enough when they all got together.

Even without Kenzie’s revelation, he knew things weren’t working as well for him this time. Maybe in the past he’d been the single guy on the camping trips, but he’d never felt too out of place.

They’d only been here a couple of hours and already he missed talking to Kenzie. Having her at his side. The divide of women and men was pretty natural at these things, except when everyone crashed in their respective tents at night.

Maybe it was for the wrong reasons, but he was glad she’d come and asked him to walk. It gave them a chance to be alone with each other again.

“It’s that bad, huh?” he finally asked.

“It’s pretty bad. I haven’t seen this much bitchiness since girls’ gym class and everyone was on the same PMS cycle.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that imagery. “Think you can hang in there at least one night? If things are still bad we can come up with some excuse and leave tomorrow.”

She hesitated and then nodded. “Of course. I don’t mean to be throwing a tantrum, but jeez. These women. I can only be nice for so long before my snarky starts showing.”

“Let the snark fly. I sure won’t protest.” He came to a stop and pulled her into his arms. “We got rushed trying to pack up and get out the door, I never got one of these.”

“One of what?”

He caught her mouth in a slow, sweet kiss, letting his hands knead her waist. She sighed and leaned into him, curling her fingers into his shoulders.

“Thank you.” She folded herself into his arms. “I needed that.”

“Me too.”

They held each other for a moment.

“Are they all like that? These chiefs’ wives?”

He laughed softly. “Not at all. Some are the most down-to-earth people you’ll ever meet. Like Nicole. She’ll be here later tonight with Delmar.”

“Oh thank God. An ally.”

He tilted her chin and kissed her again. “You’ve got me in your corner, sugar.”

“I know, or I’d probably be taking a flashlight to one of these chicks’ heads.”

“If I had known they were this bad, I never would’ve come.”

“I can handle it. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” She pulled away and slid her hand into his as they headed back to the campsite.

He did worry about her, though. And it wasn’t just with the bitch wives of his friends. He worried about Charles Richland. About some drunk getting a little aggressive at the pub while she worked.

That was the bottom line. He cared. Too much for this even to be considered a temporary thing anymore.

Whether Kenzie felt the same was another story.

The rest of the evening passed pretty uneventfully. Steak and grilled corn were served with chips for dinner. Conversation was easygoing and everyone seemed friendly enough, but now that he was aware of it, he could sense the simmering venom the ladies of the group directed toward Kenzie.

It disappointed him, but more so, it pissed him the hell off. Kenzie was a good person. From what he’d seen, there weren’t a lot of people who didn’t like her.

And it affected the way he treated them. His communication with them had a crisp chilliness that let them know he didn’t appreciate their antics.

They got the message too, because they wouldn’t look him in the eye and eventually stopped trying to engage him in conversation. They didn’t even pretend to with Kenzie anymore.

What a trio of bitches. He glanced at his friends and felt a little sorry for them now. Could understand why they drank a little more than they should and hung out with each other on these weekends.

So why the pretense of even bringing the wives? They likely would have a fit and a half.

“Do you want another s’more?” Kenzie asked.

He turned to answer her, but his response died at the sight of her sucking marshmallow off her fingers.

“I…do I… What was the question?”

“S’mores? Would you like me to make you another?”

“No.” God. He needed to be alone with her. Now. He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Think you can plead a headache? We can go chill in the tent for a bit.”

“Absolutely.” She winked and turned back to the fire.

Clearly she intended to take her time, because it was several minutes—and another toasted marshmallow he had to watch her suck off her fingers—before she stood and pressed her palm to her forehead.

“Sorry to be a complete wanker, but I’ve got the beginnings of a terrible headache. I think I’ll go lie down for the night.”

There were murmurs of sympathy from the men and suspicious stares from the women. Kenzie seemed oblivious; keeping a friendly expression on her face as she bid everyone goodnight and then gave him a chaste kiss and a wink only he could see. A moment later she disappeared into the tent.

Brett bided his time. Hating every moment he lingered outside by the fire talking shit with the guys. After fifteen minutes, he excused himself by saying he was going to check on her.

“But it’s not even nine. You’re not going to bed this early are you?” Jack’s wife called out, her expression displeased.

She was the redhead—clearly from a bottle, unlike Kenzie—the prettiest out of the three wives, and seemed the most vicious. It slowly dawned on him. She probably saw Kenzie as a threat. Kenzie had her beat hands down in looks and personality.

The longer he’d sat out by the fire and paid attention, the more he’d overheard the women gossiping about other Navy wives. It had left a bad taste in his mouth.

Escaping into the tent with Kenzie sounded like a pretty damn good break, actually.

“It’s been a long day.” He gave her a brief smile. “I might come back out in a while.”

He stood, stretched his arms above his head, and then made his way into the tent.

Kenzie was stretched out on the blow up mattress, watching and clearly waiting for him.

“Took you long enough,” she chided, when he lay down beside her.

“Mmm. Didn’t want to be too obvious.” He smoothed a hand up over her belly, pushing the T-shirt up with it. “You should be arrested for eating s’mores so seductively.”

She laughed, and her stomach bounced lightly against his fingers. “Ah my evil plan to get you in the tent worked.”

“So you did that finger sucking thing deliberately?”

“You mean like this?” She caught his hand and pulled it toward her, parting her lips and drawing his finger into her mouth.

“Yeah,” he muttered thickly. “Just like that.”

She released his finger and sat up, pushing him back onto the air mattress.

“Aye. It was most definitely done on purpose. I fancied sucking on something else.” She reached for the zipper on his jeans and his breath caught.

“Sugar, what are you doing?”

She paused and arched a brow. “You think people don’t have sex while camping?”

“I’m not sure these guys do.”

“Well, that makes them discriminatory against nature. I, on the other hand, have no problem giving you head while inside a tent surrounded by trees.”

He went instantly hard at her words, and abandoned all pretenses at protesting when she pulled him free from his jeans. She moved to straddle his knees and then lowered her head, taking him into her mouth.

Pleasure rocketed through him at the touch of her tongue on his dick. He threaded his fingers into her hair and closed his eyes, abandoning himself to her sweet mouth and handing her all the power.

Chapter Fifteen

There was something rather naughty about going down on Brett, knowing his friends and their awful wives weren’t too far away. She loved having control at the moment, and even more so, knowing that he wasn’t going to stop her.

He breathed raggedly as she took him deeper into her mouth and then out again, always teasing him with her tongue. His fingers clutched her hair and his hips rose, thrusting him further into her mouth.

Did she stop? Or did she let him find release this way? She was on the fence, when he let out a low groan and suddenly thrust her away.

“I can’t,” he growled, easing out from under her. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when I come. But first, how about fair play?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this.”

She squealed as he flipped her onto her back and pushed her knees apart.

“Oh no, you’d best not, Brett.” She tried to keep her voice at a whisper.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because I can’t shut up when you do that. I make all sorts of loud, dirty sounds when you’re going down on me.” She gave a small shrug. “I don’t want to scandalize your friends.”

Even in the dimness, only broken by their small lamp, she could see his smug smile.

“You should’ve thought about that a few minutes ago, sugar. When you had your pretty lips wrapped around me.”

“Oh, aye, but I wanted to leave no doubt to your friends and their prudish wives that I know how to please my man.”

“You sure do,” he muttered, and then could wait no more. “So let’s make sure they know that I’m just as good at pleasing my woman.”

“Brett, no! I’m much louder than you, and you can hear everything through these tents.”

She laughed, and tried to push him away, but the moment his tongue slid inside her hot heat she knew it was a lost cause. With a shuddering sigh of surrender, she closed her eyes and reached to hold his head against her.

She tried to stay quiet, she really did. Biting her lip and swallowing the low moans in her throat. He seemed to take it as a challenge, licking her slower and deeper. When the intensity of her oncoming orgasm grew, she felt her control slipping.

When he sucked her clit steadily, and pressed a finger into her, she was gasping and calling out his name. The orgasm that ripped through her was so intense, tears gathered in her eyes.

By the time he’d slipped on a condom and entered her, she knew they weren’t thinking about anyone but each other now.

Only when it was over, and she lay exhausted—physically and emotionally—curled up in his arms, did she hear movement outside the tent.

A man grumbled, “Usually when a chick complains of a headache, you
don’t
get laid.”