Natalie Acres (32 page)

A wicked chuckle fell from Jason’s lips. “You honestly expect me to believe she’s just going to crawl under the tablecloth and suck your—”

Before he finished his sentence, Kimberly was under the table. Tugging Sebastian’s cock free from his slacks, she licked the tip, sipping at his size in loving appreciation more than out of duty.

“As you can see…” Sebastian paused, lifted the tablecloth, and smiled down at her as she filled her cheeks with his size. “She definitely belongs to me now, Neely.”

“Why, you!” The table jumped as if someone bumped against the furniture.

“Lay one hand on him, and it will be the last time you throw a punch,” Wyatt said, rising to his feet.

Kimberly looped her tongue around Sebastian’s cock, drawing him firmly against the roof of her mouth. He reached under the table and dragged his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, urging her forward.

She slurped and sucked, trying her best to make an effortless act seem noisy at best or at worst, a little sloppy. Either way, she wanted Jason to walk away with only one impression.

She was thoroughly enjoying herself with another man.

“You’re making a mistake here, men.”

Noticing Jason’s shoes angled in another direction, she started to relax, relieved to know he’d given up sooner than the norm, but before she celebrated, he stopped. “Aren’t you Cherie Lindum?”

“Don’t answer him,” Wyatt said, in much the same tone he’d used with her.

Jealousy careened through her veins then. She stilled against Sebastian’s prick, no longer aggressive in giving him oral sex. Instead, she rose to the tip and lingered there, listening for Cherie’s response.

When she didn’t answer Jason, he said, “I know you. We’ve met before.”

A long delay made for an uncomfortable silence and Sebastian drew her head to his lap again.

“So what is this, men? You can’t let one sub go until you have a suitable replacement?”

Kimberly’s head bumped against the table and she backed away from Sebastian then. She’d known there was something to this! How dare they! How fucking dare they!

Her heart raced as she noticed the stilled lower bodies. Wyatt reached for her, but she swatted his hand away. Sebastian tried to keep her in front of him, giving him head. “No!”

Placing her palms on her chair, she hoisted herself back to the table and glared at Jason. “Are you done here?”

He smirked. “That’s a question you should be asking them. Are they done with her and just getting started with you, or are they using both of you?”

Sebastian rose and Wyatt followed suit. “Let’s take a walk to the bar, Neely.”

“I’ll pass,” he said, reaching for Kimberly once more. “Let’s go, subbie. You’ve played on the wrong side of the tracks long enough.”

Apparently she’d played in the middle of the tracks for far too long. Now she was utterly and inexplicably confused.

“Holding on to that pain and animosity for all the wrong reasons won’t make for a very enjoyable trip,” Cherie said.

Kimberly turned away from the window and sat on the sofa. “Wyatt and Sebastian all but dragged Jason away from the dining car. Where did they go?”

“It isn’t your concern. They’ll handle Mr. Neely and probably won’t discuss how they choose to do that. You are their responsibility. They’re protecting you.”

As if she hadn’t noticed. “Maybe I should go find them.”

“They told us to wait for them here.”

Kimberly glanced around the room. The private car felt empty without them. “Do you always do what Sebastian and Wyatt tell you?”

“I respect them, Kimberly.” Cherie took a deep breath. “You should, too.”

“You’re fucking them,” Kimberly remarked in a matter-of-fact voice.

“No.”

“You were fucking them.”

“Wrong again,” Cherie said.

“You were their submissive. I heard Jason out there. No one corrected him.”

“Why would we correct him?” Cherie said. “What we are to one another is none of his business.”

“And what are you?”

“I was a submissive in training who didn’t quite take.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Have you taken a good look at them? They’re absolutely gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want them? What woman wouldn’t want to be in their bed?”

“You expect me to believe you were training to be their shared submissive and they never fucked you?”

“Okay, listen. You and I can be friends, or you can let the green-eyed monster get the best of you and we can be at odds. I decided from the moment I met you I was going to like you. I know a little bit about you, Kimberly. Admittedly, I felt sorry for you at first. Now, I admire you. You’re a strong woman, a truly remarkable woman, but there are things about me, Sebastian, and Wyatt that you will not hear from me.”

“You were in love with them?” By the look on her face, she still cared deeply for them.

“I’ll give you that one. Yes, I loved them. Maybe I’ll always love them. And they love you.”

“So you love them, you trained under them, but you didn’t fuck them?”

“You aren’t going to let this die.”

“No.” Kimberly gasped. “Wait a minute. Did you say they love me?”

Cherie arched a brow. “As if you couldn’t tell.”

“I thought it was strong lust at first sight. Not love.”

“There’s a little more to it than that and if you’re smart you’ll leave the past alone so your future isn’t ruined.”

“If they’re my future, I want to know about their past.”

Cherie crossed her arms over her chest. “The only thing you need to know is they’re in love with you.”

“They haven’t known me long enough to love me.”

“Haven’t you paid attention to anything they’ve told you? They’ve known you long enough to become obsessed with you, driven in life because of you. Everything they do, everything they are, is all because of their dream of loving you.”

The door slammed behind them.

Cherie’s eyes widened. Kimberly turned around, expecting to find Wyatt and Sebastian. Instead, she found herself staring into the wild, apparently drug-induced, eyes of a very sexy older man.

Cherie’s breath hitched in her chest. Kimberly shifted her gaze quickly between the stranger and Cherie. “Who is he?”

Her mouth opened and closed. It was as if she struggled to supply an answer, but somehow couldn’t manage.

“Hello, submissive one,” he said in this dark voice. “Did you miss me?”

“I missed you,” she replied in a methodical tone.

“Cherie?” Kimberly snapped her fingers.

She slowly walked to the man, acting as if she were entranced.

Kimberly turned on him violently. “What are you doing to her?”

“There, there, pet,” he said, stroking Cherie’s head as she embraced him. “That’s my sweet girl. I’m here now. I’ve come to take you home.”

“Cherie! Snap out of it!” Kimberly screamed, rushing the man who seemed to be brainwashing her by his very presence.

“Kneel,” he said, acting positively bored but smiling broadly when she used his body for leverage. She slid to the floor, taking her position in front of him. “That’s my pet.”

“What do you mean pet?” Kimberly was appalled. “Cherie! What is this? Who is this man? What are you doing? Damn it! Stand up!”

Dazed, Cherie looked up at him with adoring eyes and seemingly ignored Kimberly as she tried to pull her to her feet. “He is my Master. This is the man everyone has been talking about. Isn’t he grand?”

Grand? Kimberly nearly snorted at the thought. Who was Cherie kidding, besides herself?

Kimberly’s gaze flicked over the large masculine shell of a man. With his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, his more-salt-than-pepper hair color, along with his fine lines around the eyes, suggested a man over the age of sixty-two. For an older man, he was buff, in real good shape, and if Cherie were in her fifties, perhaps Kimberly might understand the attraction.

“He’s so, so grand, Kimberly,” she whispered, her fingers practically digging into the fellow’s slacks.

An eerie chill fell over the room. He obviously held significant power over Cherie. Kimberly kept waiting for orange and red flames to engulf them before the two of them descended toward hell.

“Grand?” Kimberly finally forced herself to speak. “No, Cherie. He looks like an ordinary man.” And mean enough to strike back at a rattlesnake. His eyes danced with wicked devilment as Cherie wrapped her arms around one of his legs, rubbing her cheek against his expensive suit.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Sweden.” He reached over Cherie’s head to extend his hand. “As you might already know, you and I will be close friends as well.”

“Probably not in this lifetime,” Kimberly said tightly, keeping her eyes on the man’s hands while watching the window for any shadows or movements.

Sweden spread his large fingers, somewhat disjointed no thanks to his probable age. He seemingly waited with great expectation for a handshake. He could stand there all night.

She studied the window, noting the reflections of some of the furniture pieces. By the looks of things, she might wait a while, too.

Where the hell were Sebastian and Wyatt? They must’ve had a drink to celebrate after they beat the living hell out of Jason, which she might have enjoyed watching if that’s what happened.

When she didn’t accept his hand, Sweden finally grated out, “Are you afraid to touch me, Miss Cartwell?”

“No,” she quickly replied, refusing to ask how he knew her name. She didn’t believe in playing games unless the rules within would potentially save her life. “I don’t swoon at the feet of old men and I’m not easily hypnotized and placed under a man’s spell.”

“Are you sure about that, Miss Cartwell?” His long eyelashes fluttered over the coldest of still eyes she’d ever seen and his entire frame—all six foot three of him—slowly became rigid, as if every muscle tightened upon his order.

In the distance, the metal squeak of the locomotive’s brakes followed by several whooshing sounds alerted all passengers to the obvious. They were slowing down for their only in-city stop, somewhere around Pittsburgh, best she could remember.

Sweden placed his hand atop Cherie’s head. She continued to admire him with longing in her eyes. Her face remained as flushed in color as her flaming red hair.

“Let me tell you how this is set to play out,” Sweden said in a diabolical voice. “When we stop in Pittsburgh, you and Cherie will leave the train with me and my men. We’ll stay overnight in the city, enjoy a training session, and tomorrow, we’ll fly back to Lund on my private jet.”

“Of course we will,” she sang. “And while we’re in Pittsburgh, I’ll fuck you wild, enjoy every minute of it, and then end up on my knees looking like a groupie for a rock band.”

Sweden tilted his head and grinned. “Ah the joys of watching Cartwell women defy their men. It’s a real treat, actually. I’ve had my eye on your family’s women for several decades now, as you can imagine. Your mother was my first interest.

“Your sister, Trixie, would’ve been mine. Everything was set in motion before your fathers sent her off to Cow Camp, which is where she had her ménage cherries popped. She was too young. We were too late.”

He released a burden sigh. “Your twin Ansley wasn’t much better. Although I think she would’ve been the one with the most fire. She is definitely your mother’s daughter, but she’s your father Kane’s tiger. She’s a hellcat and I love women with fight in their veins. I would’ve thoroughly enjoyed her.”

Cherie seemingly hung on to his every word, nodding at the appropriate pauses, smiling when Sweden smiled. Oh God, this was sickening.

What was keeping Wyatt and Sebastian?

Panic struck with the grating sound of brakes raking against the tracks. The lights shining in the windows suggested they had pulled into the station.

Kimberly was starting to feel that surge of panic. Sweden mentioned his men. Jason was on the train and he’d obviously meant to sell her to Sweden. Who else had boarded the train in Columbia? And how had Sweden, Jason, and the McKays figured out their plans?

Her mind churned with possibilities, but only one man stood out as the gabbing culprit. Sam Jackson. He was the link. He must’ve been on Sweden’s payroll. And he was also a trusted friend to Sebastian and Wyatt.

Kimberly became more frantic, her head spinning with all the reasons why Sebastian and Wyatt had yet to return to their private rail car. With the train stopped, she needed to distract Sweden. She needed to keep him amused. She could not leave the train with Sweden. And poor Cherie was doomed if Kimberly didn’t devise a plan.

“I’m not a ménage virgin,” she quickly told him.

“Of course you are,” Sweden said, his demeanor quickly changing. His air of confidence diminished, suggesting he wasn’t quite so sure of himself anymore.

His rounded jaws drew tight as he ground his teeth together. Below the surface, the man was seething. She could sense his brewing anger and she was certain of one thing—he felt manipulated in that moment. The proof of her truth and his ignorance existed around him. All he had to do was look at the evidence.