Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five (6 page)

G
oing
down on Amber was pure pleasure. Though he loved pleasing a woman, Harper had never enjoyed this part of sex more than he did at this moment. She tasted of citrus and honey and warm musky woman. Her beautiful pink flesh tantalized him. He couldn’t get enough of her. His dick pulsed inside his jeans.

He aimed to keep it there. She didn’t want to rush into anything, and truthfully, neither did he. This was for her. Just about her.

It might kill him, but so be it.

He brought her to a second orgasm, and then to a third. He started going for a fourth, but she begged him to stop.

“Please, Harper. You’re going to kill me.”

He grinned at her. “But what a way to go.”

She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled him toward her. Their mouths mashed together, and he let her taste herself on his tongue. Mmm, did she enjoy that flavor as much as he did? From the moans and sighs coming from her, she did.

They kissed with passion, with fire, with unbridled lust. He ground his erection against her firm supple thigh. God, those legs. Wrapped around and over his shoulders they’d been heaven.

A vision popped into his head, of Amber’s amazing legs wrapped around a silver pole at a strip club. At Rachel’s.

He broke the kiss.

Why’d he have to think of that? Yes, he’d once thought she had the body of a stripper…

She looked up at him, her golden eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. Nothing was wrong. He just didn’t like thinking of her that way. He didn’t judge her. At least he didn’t think he did. She hadn’t had much choice after her mother kicked her out. At least she’d finished school first.

“No. I’m fine.”

She smiled. Oh, she could kill a man with that knockout smile.

“Good. Now I think it’s your turn.”

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That was for you, baby. Only for you.”

“Surely you don’t expect me to be so selfish.”

“I certainly do.” He cracked his wiseass grin. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

She burst into laughter. “The same movie! I love those corny lines.”

“Me too,” he said, laughing.

He got up. Still hard as a rock.

Oh well. It was Sunday. Ranches didn’t stop on Sunday. “I have to get going. A million things to do at home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want—”

He shushed her with two fingers on her beautiful swollen lips. “I wanted to please you. And I want you to know I’m not just in this for sex. I like you.”

“Wow.”

“And just so you don’t think my actions were completely altruistic”—he kissed the top of her forehead—“I enjoyed the hell out of that.”

“That makes two of us.” She stood. “I
will
pay you back though.”

He kissed her rosy cheek. “I certainly hope so. But on your own time. When you’re ready.”

“What if I’m ready right now?”

Good God!
He wasn’t made of stone. “Baby, I’m tryin’ to make a point here.”

“That you’re a gentleman. I know.”

“That I want you, but that I’m willing to wait.”

“What if I’m not?”

He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Good. The sooner the better in my book. But not today. I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, okay?”

Her smile turned into a little pout. Man, even frowning she was beautiful. “Okay,” she said.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re very welcome. Anytime.”

“I’m counting on it.” He gave her big wet kiss.

The weakening in his knees surprised him. This woman had a huge effect on him. And he liked it. He liked it very much.

He grabbed his Stetson, winked, and left.

A
mber was arranging
groceries in her tiny fridge after a quick trip to the store when a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

Harper! Her heart did a flip-flop. He’d come back. She couldn’t wait to see him. They’d make love now. She wouldn’t make him wait any longer. She opened the door with a huge smile on her face.

That turned into shock. And a little bit of horror.

Blake Buchanan. Blake Buchanan holding a laptop.

“Hello, Amber.”

“Mr. Buchanan. What can I do for you?”

“Now that’s a right good question. May I come in?”

“What for?”

“I have something I want to show you, and after that, I think you’ll agree we have tons to talk about.”

She gripped the doorknob with her sweaty palm. “If you want to talk, call me on the phone.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to show you what I want to show you.”

“I’m sure I could not care less.”

“I think you’re wrong about that…Ms. Love.”

Amber’s stomach churned. Ms. Love. Ambrosia Love. He did remember her.

Play dumb. He can’t have anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.

She cocked her head. “Excuse me?”

His brown eyes shot darts. Had she really thought them gentle when she first met him?

“Ms. Love. Ambrosia Love. That was your stage name at Rachel’s, wasn’t it?”

She loosened her grip on the doorknob, tried to relax. “I can’t see what business that is of yours.”

“I think you might disagree once you see what I have to show you. May I come in?”

“No.”

“Well then, I’ll have to send this stuff over the Internet, and security being what it is these days, I can’t be held responsible for who might see this information.”

She swallowed and hoped he didn’t notice. “What information do you think you have, Mr. Buchanan?”

“Information that I don’t think you’d want anyone in the good town of Bakersville to see.”

Had someone seized the back of her neck? Her airway seemed compromised. Couldn’t get enough oxygen. She counted to ten, willed herself to calm down. What the hell was he talking about?

She’d danced at Rachel’s, that was all. An admirer talked her into a lap dance once. She’d taken his two hundred and sworn never to do it again. Wasn’t worth it. She’d spent the whole time trying to keep his paws off her. She’d hardly danced at all. But she had a rule. No one touched the goods. She wasn’t
that
desperate.

She steeled herself. “Look, it’s no secret that I danced at Rachel’s.”

One side of his mouth rose and a huff of air escaped. “Danced? That’s quite a euphemism, isn’t it?”

“Danced.” She gritted her teeth. “It wasn’t the classiest job in the universe, but it paid the bills, and I saved up enough to start a new life. Anything wrong with that?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Then why exactly are you here?”

“Because you did more than dance, Ambrosia. And I have proof.”

She gulped. What the hell was he talking about?

“Ready to let me come in?”

“Absolutely not.” She pushed him out the door.

“Fine. Give me about an hour to circulate these photos on the net.”

Her throat constricted again.
Breathe, Amber, breathe.

“What photos? I didn’t do anything!”

“I’ve got photographic proof otherwise.”

Curiosity got the best of her. Chad and Catie knew this guy. She felt sure she wasn’t in any physical danger. Heck, if she didn’t find out what was going on, she was liable to pass out from hyperventilation.

“Fine. Come in then. Let’s see what you think you have.”

He entered. “Nice place.”

She scanned the room for a paper bag. There, on the table, holding lemons from the store. She dumped the lemons on the table and crunched the bag in her fist. “It’s cozy. Now enough with the small talk. What do you want?”

“Look, I understand why you worked at Rachel’s.”

“For the money,” she said, “pure and simple.”

“I know that, and I understand. We all do what we have to do sometimes for the money.”

“Do you have a point?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He set his laptop on the table and sat down. “I want to show you a web site.”

Her nerves skittered. Doctored photos, maybe? She hadn’t the foggiest. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get away with this.

“Shall we?” He pulled the other chair close beside him. “Have a seat so you can see.”

She was too curious not to. He typed in some letters and a password, and photos of nude women popped onto the screen.

Until the first photo emerged.

Her bowels clenched and nausea gripped her throat. The blond girl with the slim muscular legs…legs famous for her pole dancing. That girl lay on a red satin sheet, her legs spread wide, another woman’s head—Laura’s head!—between them.

“It’s enhanced,” she whispered. “It can’t be me.”

“It is.” Blake clicked on the screen. “And so is this.”

This time she was on a man’s lap, naked, her nipple between his lips. Her back arched and her eyes shut—clearly enjoying the stimulation.

She swallowed hard. “I’m going to throw up.”

“I don’t doubt it. Here’s another.”

This time she was giving a guy a blow job. Bitterness coated her tongue. She swallowed a heave.

“Seen enough?”

“It can’t be. I never…posed for these. I don’t understand.”

“How many drugs did you do in your Rachel’s days, Amber?”

“Damn it!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t do any drugs! I hardly drank. It can’t be me. It just can’t be.”

“This one will tell the tale I think.”

A black-and-white photo appeared. Her ass was in the air, and a triangle shaped birthmark was apparent on her right butt cheek.

As if of its own accord, her right hand wandered to her hips, over the spot where her own birthmark marred her skin.

How could this be?

“How many more pictures are there?”

“There are twenty-four altogether. Six are girl/girl, two solo, the rest with men.”

“Am I…having sex in any of them?”

“Alas, no. But you’re doing pretty much everything else.”

Her stomach threatened to empty. She covered her lips with her hand. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. You seem like a nice girl.”

“I really don’t remember.”

He powered down the laptop and flipped it closed. “I’m sure you don’t. But unfortunately, that gets filed under the heading of ‘not my problem.’”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I owe a bad man a lot of money. If I don’t pay him soon, he’s going to break my legs or worse.”

God.
He wanted money. Money to keep these photos out of the public eye. They were already on a web site. How many people had already seen them? Would it matter at this point?

“What web site are these on?”

“It’s a private web site. Men pay top dollar to visit it.”

“Where in hell did they get the pictures?”

“I haven’t a clue. And I don’t care. Like I said, I just need money.”

She sighed. “And if you don’t get it?”

“The good folks of Bakersville will get some brand new impressions of their reigning rodeo queen.”

She clasped both sides of her head. To think she’d actually thought she could be happy here. That she could make a new start.

No such luck for Amber Cross. She was that lush Karen Hedstrom’s trashy daughter. She always would be. Some things couldn’t be escaped.

“How much do you need?” As if it mattered. She didn’t have two dimes to spare.

“Twenty grand.”

Icy fingers gripped her neck. “Twenty grand? You think I have twenty grand? This is where I live, for God’s sake, in this oversize closet!”

“Ambrosia—”

“
Don’t
call me that!”

“I’m a reasonable man. I’ll give you some time to get the money. You’re a good friend of Catie McCray, and I happen to know she’s loaded.”

Catie? Seriously? She couldn’t tell Catie about this.

“Your new boyfriend Harper’s pretty well-off too.”

She
really
couldn’t tell Harper about this.

“Even Judy Williamson has managed to put away some money over the years.”

Her boss? Was he kidding? She couldn’t tell any of these people. She’d be run right out of town.

Where had those photos come from? She’d never done drugs, hardly ever drunk alcohol.

Except that one night when she blacked out.

Oh God.

She’d been at Rachel’s for a few months, had gotten pretty popular, when two of the more experienced dancers invited her and Laura out after work one night. They went to their apartment. The bed had red satin sheets…

Oh my fucking God.

What was the woman’s name? Megan? Martha? Something with an M. Were there photos of Laura too? Of course there were. She’d seen Laura’s head between her own legs. She grabbed the laptop.

“Hey!” Blake said.

“Shut up, you creep. Let me see this. Get that web site back.”

Surprisingly, he fired up the computer and brought it back up. She grabbed it away from him, clicked on the home page, and found the index of the girls’ names. Sure enough, Laura Lee. Laura still worked at Rachel’s and probably had no idea she was all over this web site.

She shook her head. She felt for her friend, but right now Laura was the least of her worries.

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Like I said, I’m a reasonable man.”

“What is this web site?”

“I told you. It’s a paid site. Patrons of Rachel’s can see the girls in action. Indulge their fantasies.”

“How do you know about it?”

“I know people.”

“Who?”

“Not your concern.”

“I’d say it’s very much my concern. What happens if I
do
pay you off? Then no one in Bakersville finds out about this. But I’m still plastered all over the net and anyone who pays for the privilege can see me in photos I had no idea I posed for.”

“Again, not my problem.”

She gulped and mustered all her strength. “It just might be, after all. Extortion happens to be a crime, you know.”

“You think anyone will believe you? Look at your background, Amber. You were a stripper. You posed for photos.”