Something Sinful This Way Comes [McQueen Was My Valley 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

“If he really fishes. Have you seen him with any fishing gear?”

“No, but I think it’s in our best interests to pretend to go along with it. Now get your clothes and shampoo and stuff. Shall I unplug your laptop so you can take it?”

“Yes, go for it. Not much is open on it. Just
X
out of whatever browser I have open.”

Julian was fully prepared to close down the browser when what looked like a virus popped out at him. ATTENTION BITCH, it said in flashing red letters, like a virus masquerading as an instant message.

Julian was about to completely unplug the entire computer when a photo of Xandra flashed onscreen under the attention-grabbing subject matter. This could
not
have been some random virus, due to the nature of the photograph. Only a few people on the planet—Julian hoped—would be in possession of a photo like this of Xandra. He was almost too shy to view it—almost.

The bad-quality photograph depicted her lying back on a mattress, clad in the usual black lingerie men seemed to love. Thighs spread, she plunged a realistic more-than-life-size dildo into her pussy.

Julian knew he should look away. Maybe Xandra had just taken that photo of herself the other day. Maybe that’s the last thing she was doing on the computer, and had forgotten about it before telling Julian to unplug it. The quality was poor, as though someone had enlarged it at least four times. Maybe she had been swapping racy photos with some other lover.

That was probably it. Nathan and Julian were not the only two men in her life. She was the hottest looker in the Four Corners area—of course she had some other dude who would be interested in seeing her bouncy tits, in watching her plunge a large, realistic dildo into her cunt.

Julian had to make a snap decision, or it’d be obvious he had been staring far too long at the photo.

He unplugged it from the wall.

“You got the computer?” Xandra called from her bedroom.

“Got it,” Julian affirmed.

“You certainly ran all of that guest information quickly,” Xandra said quietly.

Nathan had been afraid of this. He should have pretended to be agonizing over Marcus’s data for much longer than he did. He could have pretended that it took him all night to look into each guest’s background. That gave him something to do while staying awake, listening for whacked burglars who were obsessed with Xandra’s photographs.

But his software was so swift, once you entered driver’s license numbers, it returned the information immediately. Aside from the expected sportsmen who liked to fish naked on public land and the many who enjoyed illegal herbs, one guest had popped up looking suspicious. Sancho Reyes was using a fake driver’s license with an address near Charleston. Of course Nathan had gone by Room 211 to check on Sancho Reyes from Oyster Point, South Carolina, but ole Sancho had checked out an hour before Nathan tried the room. Xandra didn’t recognize him from the lobby videotape and obviously not from her room video where he’d worn a ski mask. Nathan had put a message in to a coworker out of Joint Base Charleston who could put surveillance on that address, but surely it was a fake one.

Sancho Reyes, obviously a cohort of Xandra’s ex Javier, was probably gone for good, but they shouldn’t let their guard down. So they’d ordered room service and ate while jumping every ten minutes at the crack of a tree branch or the hoot of an owl. Well, mostly Nathan jumped at the animal life. He wasn’t as accustomed to it as Julian was.

“Oh, it’s very fast software,” Nathan said casually.

Xandra was sitting next to Nathan on the couch around two in the morning. Julian had fallen into a sort of meditative trance in a leather chair. He was probably exhausted, chasing after all those poachers on horseback. No one wanted to be the first to go to bed, the first to admit defeat. The first to look like a wimpy nerd in front of Xandra. Nathan had tried to tell Julian they could take turns staying awake—that Julian could nap now. Overseas, there had always been stories about Nathan eating only one meal and running ten miles a day. People he had never met before in the business whispered that he worked seventeen hours a day, exercised two, and slept five. The truth wasn’t so far from that, and Nathan certainly wanted to protect Xandra, so he told the exhausted warden to take a snooze now.

But Julian had stayed rooted to his chair, maybe doing some Zen sort of meditation. Nathan knew after mind-numbing hours, days,
weeks
of surveillance overseas, achieving that Zen state was an art form. Julian had agreed to shower but had returned right to the living room, now with half-closed eyes hidden under his warden’s ball cap.

Xandra said, “You’re not a regular beat cop, are you?”

Nathan sighed. He had turned off everything in the room except a CD player that crooned some country-and-western music that was putting even him to sleep. The light from the player flattered Xandra’s delightful features, her long lashes framing her steely gray eyes. Her thigh clad in a tight jean skirt rubbed against his.

“No. I’m not.”

“Are you even
from
Abilene? You’ve got the accent.”

“Yes. I was stationed in Abilene in the army after graduating West Point.”

“West Point.” Xandra’s eyes were round and moist. Nathan really wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms again. It wouldn’t be that hard to force Julian to go to bed and lay her back on the couch. Nathan was so hot to go he’d shoot within seconds of entering her. “So you’re…FBI? CIA? Something like that?”

Nathan grinned wearily. “Something like that.”

Damn, she was persistent. “A Navy SEAL? Special ops?”

Nathan put a hand on her thigh to get her to stop bouncing her leg up and down. “Something like that.” Julian must’ve been asleep, his ball cap slouched down over his eyes. If he’d been awake, Nathan knew he’d have something to say about this.

Twisting her torso so that her nipples touched his chest, Xandra tugged on Nathan’s sleeve. Her voice became even more whispery, purry even. “Oh, Nathan,” she breathed. “You can tell me. Who’m I going to tell? What are you? Where do you work?”

Her wiles weren’t going to work on him. Of course, the best way to shut her up was to kiss her, and he didn’t want to do that, either. He’d been under much more brutal interrogation in his life, to be sure, than this syrup-voiced belle from Charleston. But for some reason, with Xandra he felt as though his options were more limited. With a goon from the Lord’s Resistance Army he could enact any number of self-defense moves. With Xandra McQueen, he could…hope for a tornado to hit?

Instead, he murmured, “I work for a private military contractor.” He was quiet in case his own cabin had been bugged. “Listen, you should go to sleep. You need to deal with that tournament tomorrow.”

But Xandra wouldn’t be deterred from her line of questioning. “So, you do IT stuff for this contractor? That’s how you got that information so fast? But why would an IT guy run around armed?”

“I do everything,” Nathan admitted. He couldn’t resist lifting a hand to stroke the side of her face, she looked so starry-eyed and innocent. “Black ops, almost entirely in Central Africa. Fighting the bad guys.”

“Then what are you doing in Utah?”

“On vacation,” he murmured. When he touched her bottom lip with his thumb, her eyes shimmered. Nathan spent so much time in Africa, he had rarely seen the effect the mention of his job had on women. But Xandra was so slack-jawed with awe she seemed to be sleeping with her eyes open.

She whispered, “You’re not really entered in this tournament, are you?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I do like the idea of fishing for a few months.” Then he kissed her.

She instantly flung her arms around his neck, practically vaulting herself into his lap. Nathan’s prick was up like a hammer, straining against the tight denim fabric, and it didn’t help that she slung a thigh over his lap. Her wet open mouth clamped down over his and immediately she was tickling the backs of his teeth with the tip of her little tongue.

Ibn himar.
The little vixen was rotating her pubic bone against his thigh and sighing into his mouth. She pressed her breasts against his chest, shimmying her shoulders as if to press every square inch of her voluptuous torso against him. Tonight she wore a camisole top, and the built-in bra didn’t do much to prevent her tits from spilling out lusciously. Unbidden, Nathan’s hand swept down her soft neck. He briefly fingered her turquoise necklace pendant before gliding his fingers past her underarm. Feeling the outer slope of her breast made his cock twitch, and he knew all hope was lost.

Women truly
were
better interrogators than the worst child-abducting, sex-slaving militant.

At least this woman was. Maybe Nathan hadn’t been in a clinch with many American women in the past few years, but this woman squirmed like a practiced, seductive exotic dancer. Soon she was grinding her pubic bone nearly against his bursting cockhead while snaking up the hem of his T-shirt. She seemed to take great delight in feeling his chest, and when her fingertips grazed his erect nipples, he nearly lost it.

He found himself flipping her off him. Gripping her shoulders, he twisted so that she fell on her back, her head against the cushioned couch arm. She emitted a delightful “ooph” as he lunged over her, diving into her neck to ply her with great, fat sucking kisses.

“Nathan,” she murmured, all in one breath. She spread her thighs as far as the narrow jean skirt would allow, wriggling like a worm on a hook. Her pubic bone massaged his bulging cock. It had been years since he’d been so juvenile as to shoot inside his pants, but that suddenly seemed like a possibility. “Please handle me. Take me. Fuck me. I’ve never been so attracted to a man in my life.”

Nathan knew she’d been screwed over by that asshole ex of hers. Cheating, drug running, and now sending someone to—well, mangle photos of her departed dog. She had been hurt by this Javier clown and the last thing she needed was some heartless commando bastard such as himself swooping in to claim her heart. Julian was a much more likely candidate. But Julian was snoozing ten feet away in the chair, and Nathan was the one inching her skirt up her thighs while she ripped his shirt from his torso.

She flung the shirt somewhere behind him. Nathan thought he heard Julian stir, maybe slapped in the face by the shirt. But he was currently swiping his fingers between the soaked strip of her panty fabric and the slimy petals of her pussy, so he didn’t care much what Julian was doing. He held his hips off the woman, his prick throbbing with the need for release, but he didn’t want to cave to such childish impulses. Xandra was too valuable for that. He couldn’t just nail this beloved woman to the couch and pump her full of his seed.

So he murmured against her throat, “I have no condoms,” just as he began diddling her clitoris.

“I don’t care—
ah
!”

Nathan had to smile because he’d hit the right spot instantly. If his rusty memory served him correctly, women had different spots and angles on their clits, sensitive spots they wanted stroked, and areas that made them jump and shy away. It was true, he didn’t have condoms of course, but barebacking had rarely, if ever, been a reason to refrain from a good, all-out fuck. Until now.

“That’s good,” he muttered. “Perfect. Keep it up, my love. That’s it. Come for me, sweetheart.”

She clutched her arms around his back, digging deeply into his shoulder blades with her nails, but he didn’t let up. Her clit was a plump little plum, and he’d found the sensitive spot that was quickly sending her over the edge.

In fact, she set up a rat-a-tat stream of “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Her eyeballs looked as though they were rolling back in their sockets, and Nathan was becoming flushed with pride at his skill.

“Come all over my hand, love. Let go.”

He could tell by the way she suddenly gasped and held her breath that she was following his instructions. He felt her hips jerking and thrusting, jiggling against his hand. He wished he could slide a couple of fingers inside her slick channel and feel the contractions, but he didn’t want to distract her from her experience. She was in that shutdown mode where all senses aside from her skin and pussy were closed to any input. “That’s good, love. Let your sweet pussy juice flow—”

With no warning whatsoever, Nathan’s torso was yanked to an upright position, an arm cinched around his neck. He knew it was Julian before Julian snarled into his ear, “That’s right, you lewd and lascivious fucker. Jump the girl when I’ve got my back turned.”

“Your back wasn’t turned, douche bag,” Nathan retorted, mostly pissed that he’d been yanked away from his ministrations to Xandra’s pussy. Down below him, she writhed, clearly missing the stimulation of his hand, too. He just hoped he’d been allowed to mostly complete the task. She had already twitched and jumped far longer than any woman he’d ever made come. Maybe that Javier asshat had not administered to her carnal needs on top of everything else he’d done. But the vibrator Nathan had seen in her nightstand could have somewhat made up for that…

Nathan didn’t protest too much when Julian jerked his hands around to the back of his neck. He’d had this done to him many times, and he’d handcuffed others many more times. But only a few times in the spirit of play.