Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (29 page)

She knew what alone and unprotected felt like. “I understand.”

He lifted her phone from the stack of papers and held it up. “Keep your cell phone charged and with you at all times. I’m so relieved Spencer was here.”

“Me, too.”

Ben cradled her head in his palms, looking down at her. His dark-brown eyes seemed to see straight into her heart before he leaned down and kissed her. Sliding his velvety tongue between her lips, he stroked hers until a sensual languor stole over her. She held on to him, reveling in the security his arms offered.

“Are we ready?” Quinten asked as he and Spencer stopped in the doorway.

“Yes.” She looked up at Ben, and he released her, with promises of more kisses and erotic delights to come in his eyes. She turned to Spencer and took his rough, work-hardened hand in her own. “Spencer, I’m sorry for not doing as you asked. I won’t do that again. Please don’t be upset with me.”

Spencer looked at Ben and then at Quinten before he tugged her to him and gave her a gentle hug. “That’s okay, Camilla. Hopefully there won’t be a next time.” He looked between the three of them and it seemed like he wanted to say more but released her and backed away as they left the office. To Ben and Quinten, he said, “From now on we’ll do the outdoor perimeter checks after we know she’s headed home or with one of you.”

“Sounds good, Spencer.”

He bid them good night and climbed into his truck and drove away.

In the parking lot, Quinten pulled her to a stop when she would’ve gone to her car, and she turned back to him with a smile. “Forget something?” She knew the look in his eyes.

Quinten smirked and pulled her to him. “Delayed, not forgotten.”

He slid his hand around her neck and cuddled her close as he stroked her cheek. He gave her a kiss so tender it made her heart palpitate and a lump grow in her throat. Those men had such a way with her, drawing emotions from her that felt so fresh and raw at times, and at others so comforting and reassuring. She stroked his biceps through his leather jacket and held on.

Ben cleared his throat, and when they finally broke their kiss, he said, “Quinten, why don’t you ride with her and I’ll follow you?”

“You got it.” Quinten grinned at her and held out his hand for the keys to the Camaro. “I’ve been looking forward to driving this bad boy all week.”

Camilla scoffed in amusement. “Nuh-uh, speed demon. You’re not driving my new car.” Quinten looked horrified, and Camilla snickered as she waved him to the passenger side of the car. “Yes, you, lead foot. Passenger side now. Scat.”

Looking sorely abused, he veered to the other side of the car. “I’m deeply offended.”

“And on a first-name basis with half the police in Divine.”

“That’s like how many? Five including Hank?” he asked as he climbed in and complied when she poked him to buckle his seat belt. “Their radar guns need recalibrating.”

“No, your lead foot needs recalibrating.”

Ben opened the car door for her and chuckled as she climbed in the driver’s seat, inhaling the new-leather smell with great enjoyment. Funny, she hadn’t even noticed it when she’d jumped in the car earlier. Her emotions and senses were all over the place tonight.

Ben asked, “Where to?”

“Back to Divine. Meet you at Rudy’s?”

Ben nodded as he closed her car door for her and she lowered the window. Quinten went on with his complaint. “I do not have a lead foot. I’m an assertive driver. There’s a difference.”

Ben squatted down so he was eye level with Camilla. “When we get to the restaurant, we’re discussing the rest of those rules and guidelines.” His voice held a threat, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Camilla’s heart thrilled, and she blew him an air-kiss. “Bring it on, big boy.”

* * * *

He beat his hand on the faded cracked steering wheel of the van. “Now I’m just pissed! Ow!” He rubbed his hand where he must’ve burst a blood vessel in the fit of temper. Sweat soaked his brow, despite the chill in the air, and he wiped it away with his dirty shirtsleeve. He’d barely managed to get away from the building before that gigantic son of a bitch had caught up to him. He hadn’t known that Cami had hired Spencer Ketchum to watch out for her. That made things problematic. Spencer knew him and could easily identify him.

He lifted the binoculars from the passenger seat and peered at the front door as the four of them left the building. “Shit!” The building was bound to be locked up tight now.

He’d managed to sneak in while the workmen were leaving at the end of the day and had hidden in the men’s room until he’d thought everyone was gone. One of the workmen had come back in, nearly catching him, and had turned off all the lights. That’d been great because he figured then that the place was deserted and he could search to his heart’s content but no light had been damned inconvenient with his fucking flashlight left back at the van.

He hammered his forehead with his fist. “Stupid! You deserve what’s coming to you if you don’t get your shit together.”

He hadn’t been home in a few days because he was afraid of Nat’s enforcers catching up to him again. He liked his dangling parts right where they were.

He watched the four converse in the parking lot, and grunted when Cami kissed the guy from the night he’d nearly gotten caught breaking into her house, and then she kissed the
other
guy she worked for.

“What the fuck? You slutty girl, Cami.”

He waited for her to kiss Ketchum, but the big motherfucker just climbed in his truck and drove away. He was going to have to be more careful if she had that many guys watching out for her. He’d have to go back later with the right tools for the job, and get a look inside her office. If that didn’t work then he was out of options. He’d just have to confront her directly and get his property back.

Right now, he needed to drive out to his mom’s house to see if she’d loan him a few bucks or let him sleep on her couch. Life sucked for now, but he was still determined to get that money back. Nat had made it clear. It was either that or he was a dead man.

A scream was trapped in her throat, unable to escape as Camilla woke with a lurch and peered around the dark bedroom, momentarily disoriented. Her heart hammered in her chest as she lay there motionless.
It was just a nightmare. At least I didn’t wake the guys this time.
She still felt bad about waking them screaming at the top of her lungs, the last time she’d had a bad dream.
The house was quiet, and her men bracketed her with their warmth, sound asleep on either side of her. She regulated her breathing and allowed the peace surrounding her to chase away the nightmare.

A faceless intruder had been stalking her in the club. She shuddered as she remembered the fearful chill that had raced over her skin when the events in the nightmare had been real the evening before. She took deep breaths, trying to dispel the dream. She’d been having a little difficulty with insomnia lately and needed every minute of rest that she could get.

She thought of the hours she’d been keeping, both at her club and at The Dancing Pony, and wondered once again if she was making the right move by having a partnership with Ben and Quinten. So far, with the exception of the security camera issue, they’d done just fine, letting her make most decisions and only offering opinions when she asked for them. But in the day-to-day running of the business, once they’d all relaxed, would that change? Would familiarity breed contempt?

Fifteen minutes later, she was still wide awake. The bedside table read four o’clock. Too early to be up. At least Ben had insisted that she went to bed early the night before, so she was technically doing better than she had the last few nights.

Careful to not disturb the men, she stole from the bed, grabbed a throw blanket from the rocker in the corner, and went to the French doors that led out onto the back deck, which she hadn’t spent any time on yet. She turned the doorknob and slipped out, feeling scandalously naked as she unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around herself. The day had been mild, and the air had only the hint of coolness to it.

She decided to sit out on the chaise and gather her thoughts for a while and see if she might grow drowsy again, or perhaps come wider awake. She had plenty of work she could focus on there at home, sorting through her belongings if the night air didn’t lull her back to sleep. She pouted a little because she knew that if Ben and Quinten had given her what she’d
asked for
at bedtime, she’d be conked out right then. But they’d put their collective, bossy foot down when she’d dozed off in the restaurant at supper and had put her in the tub and then bed soon after arriving home.

“Bossy men,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t resist smiling. She knew their pushiness was for her own good. Unfortunately she
also
knew what it was like to not have someone there who made her best interests a high priority.

“What’s that, grouchy girl?” Quinten asked before yawning as he quietly closed the French door behind him, also wrapped in a blanket. He slipped onto the chaise behind her and wrapped his arms and his blanket around her.

“My inner brat was just venting a little.”

He parted the edges of her blanket and pulled her hair off her shoulder to kiss a path up her throat. “Can’t sleep?”

“A bad dream woke me up. Then my brain kicked into gear. I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Are you worried about something?” His husky voice awakened her senses, renewing the need she’d felt the evening before. Her breath came out in a stutter as he delved further inside her blanket and stroked her belly, igniting desire inside her.

Realizing he’d asked her a question, she replied, “It’s all worrisome. Starting this business, wondering about whoever that was in the club with me last night, and…”

“And what, baby?”

“I love being here with you like this, and being a part of your lives. Do you ever worry that if we’re also working with each other that it might get…old…between us?”

“Are you worried we won’t get along after a while?”

She gave that some serious thought and then shook her head. “We’ve done well for the last few years, but we weren’t involved during that time. I don’t want the relationship to grow stale.”

His cock was hard, pressed against the crack of her ass, and she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation when her body was clamoring for what it really wanted. His cock, deep inside her cunt.

“We’ll talk to Ben about it and see what he says. I know what you
really
need right now.” His suggestive tone made her giggle. Quinten
always
thought she needed sex.

“You do?”

He shifted her around on the double chaise, laying her out on her throw and pulling the blanket over them as he crawled over her thighs, placing kisses randomly, igniting sparks in her belly as he traveled up to the spot that ached for him between her thighs.

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured as he pulled her hips to him and buried his face in her wet cunt. His mouth was very busy, but his lips curled when he smiled at her.

She sagged against the chaise as waves of pleasure soared over her. Quinten moved fast, eating voraciously at her flesh until the release sprang up within her, taking her almost by surprise.

With a victorious growl, Quinten climbed over her until the thick head of his cock was nestled between her pussy lips. He kissed her and said, “For a little while, I want you to put all the worry aside. Can’t fix a thing at the moment, anyway. Just relax and feel.”

He slid his cock inside her with one firm stroke. She moaned loudly as her pussy adjusted to his thick invasion. Her clit was trapped against his pubic bone, and every movement stoked her arousal higher.

Tremors started deep inside her while she still recovered from the last orgasm. She buried her face against his shoulder, letting him control the moment. Wrapped around him tight, she panted as the flickering spasms of her orgasm gathered strength. Her muscles went rigid, holding on to him and squeezing his cock harder with each stroke until they were both groaning as they raced each other to climax.

Her juices soaked them both as she moved in counterpoint with him, holding on around his neck so tightly that she was afraid she might choke him. The conflagration slammed into her, and her back bowed with the power of it. She heard the noise when her head hit the arm of the chaise, but she didn’t feel a thing as she rode each wave, not fearing that he would hurt her or leave her hanging.

His grip on her intensified as he neared completion. “That’s it, baby.” He gasped harshly and stilled as he flattened her against the cushion, his cock pulsing deep inside her. “Fuck!”

When he was able to move, he pressed hot kisses and little love bites along her throat and her shoulder. She giggled as his lips found hers in a playful kiss.

He studied her for a few moments, his warm gaze reaching her soul with the tenderness she saw there. “I love you. Are you okay? I think you hit your head.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve seemed out of sorts the last week or so.”

“I think it’s just the combination of excitement and tension with the club, the move in here, and the stuff with my house and car. I’ll be fine.”