Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (5 page)

“Your lover will see you with your fiancé, and tonight, Colt Candy will know with absolute certainty who you belong to and who will forever be yours.” He rose from the bed, entered her closet, and returned with a little black dress. The
V
cut down the front extended beyond her breasts, but not as far as her belly button. The short style sported far too much leg with a slit up the right side, giving a good view of her hip and practically her bottom.

She hated the dress because Lorenzo had purchased the design. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she didn’t like what Lorenzo had chosen for her, but if she happened to run into an old friend or two, she might be persuaded to change her opinion.

Snatching the hanger from his hand, she said, “I love your choice. I know someone else who will also appreciate this designer’s attention to detail.”

* * * *

Two hours later, she took her seat next to Lorenzo. As his associates gathered, she greeted each of them with a forced smile. Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant, Pizzeria, and Entertainment provided great food and expensive wines. A local band provided a good selection of top-forty hits with a mix of their own music, too.

“Would you like to dance, love?” Lorenzo asked, forever the gentleman in front of his family and business associates. To the outside world, Lorenzo looked like the definition of a doting boyfriend, a man with eyes only for the woman wearing his ring.

“Maybe later,” she mumbled, brushing him off and wondering where Colt and company might be hiding. Without a doubt, Colt knew where she’d be dining this evening. Crue and Gabe would’ve informed him.

Thinking of Crue and Gabe brought a smile to her face. Lorenzo glowered over her, and she looked around him, trying her best to contain an outright snicker.

As Lorenzo scoured the room as if he were looking for an armed enemy, Kelly thought about the Underground Unit’s shadows. Her father must’ve mistakenly believed he’d placed an amateur in the field.

She’d known from the moment Crue and Gabe had entered her hotel. It was her job to know when someone special occupied her suites, particularly when they were fellow operatives. She twitched her nose, trying to ward off that damning grin, the one destined to give her away.

“Something funny, darling?” Lorenzo asked.

His associates studied her through suspicious eyes. Several of their women looked bewildered, as if they understood her, as if they knew she enjoyed a joke at Lorenzo’s expense. Hell the joke was on everyone…Lorenzo, his associates, her fellow Underground Unit team members—especially them. The guys would be livid when they discovered she was working from the advantaged side and earned an inside position.

“Nothing, darling,” she crooned, patting his hand as if she adored him. Even a quick touch made her sick to her stomach.

A few whispers from a nearby table full of seated women alerted her to the obvious. Colt, Brand, and Kemper could turn heads and generate adoration among the female population. Throw in Crue and Gabe and they looked like a sex party in motion, a guaranteed good time.

She wanted to turn and stare, too, but Lorenzo had pulled her from her chair before she’d had half a chance. He led her to the dance floor with his splayed fingers at her lower back.

Once there, he whispered something to the piano player and took her hand in his, leading her to the center of the room. One of her all-time favorite songs, one she’d never shared with Lorenzo even when they were on the best of terms, resounded. Journey’s rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’” filled the room.

Her song. Colt’s song.

How could he have known that?

As panic strummed through her body, Lorenzo gathered her in his arms. Clasping her right hand in his left, he pulled her inward and lifted her for a spin. When he set her down, he gave her an outward push, only to tug her to him once more. With her back against his chest, he bracketed his arms around her middle, swaying against her, rubbing his cock against her bottom in a sensual grind.

Lorenzo gripped her hips as the lead singer sang the chorus. He humped against her in what she imagined as one of the crudest public displays ever demonstrated in this particular restaurant.

She closed her eyes and swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat. Could this man possibly disgrace her more than he’d already managed?

Many of the patrons there knew her well. Her face had been on tabloid covers. She’d graced the pages of magazines, and now this moron—the man the world thought she’d eventually marry—had the audacity to flaunt her around like a paid-for whore.

He pushed her forward, and before she knew what had struck her, he’d leaned into her body, forcing her to bend over and raising his hand as if he meant to spank her. She spun around to scold him, but before she had the opportunity, Colt cut in, and as he’d demonstrated privately so many times before, his timing was impeccable.

“Colt,” she said, barely above a whisper.

He took her in his arms and swayed with the music. Lorenzo had reluctantly stepped away. There wasn’t a lot he could do without making a scene, and while he’d never been above causing a shine, he was entertaining a few business associates. Men with power and money and obviously more influence than he had attained on his own were his dinner guests.

A man who lived to give off the impression of supreme confidence didn’t deny another man the chance to dance with his lady. It would’ve been generally unacceptable even in Lorenzo’s world.

“Are you okay?” Colt asked, holding her close.

She jerked at his breath against her ear. How was it that after all this time he still had the same effect on her? How could he step in and take her in his arms and make everything okay in her world again? “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Colt pulled her closer, moving them to the far edge of the dance floor. Given the fact there were so many couples dancing, it would’ve been difficult for Lorenzo to have an unobstructed view of them, unless of course he leaned out of his chair and made the fact obvious.

The band played its next selection. Their own version of the famed Guns N’ Roses “Sweet Child O’ Mine”
slowed the moves around the room.

“You don’t belong with him,” Colt whispered at her ear. “And we both know it.”

“Is that the only reason you asked if I’m okay?”

He held his head away from hers. Staring down the bridge of his nose, he said, “No. I didn’t like how he moved you.”

“He doesn’t
move me
,” she bit out, chastising herself for admitting as much. She was expected to play a certain role, assume a part. Now, here she was in Colt’s arms falling apart, forgetting her place.

“Then why are you marrying him?” he asked, his fingers dipping right under the low-cut material. He caressed her flesh, the small patch of exposed skin right above her tailbone.

Her nipples spiked as she pressed against him. And she prayed the moan that left her breathless went unheard. The curve of his full lips suggested otherwise.

“Stop, Colt,” she warned him, placing a little distance between them.

“I’ll stop on one condition,” he said, his fingers caressing lower once again. “After this dance, I’m leaving the dining room. Your fiancé is about to receive a very important call. And you’re going to meet me someplace quiet.”

She glanced over Colt’s shoulder as he told her about a plotted call. Sure enough, Lorenzo rose from the table. Her eyes met his and he held up a finger as if to indicate he’d only be a moment.

“See there,” Colt whispered, nuzzling her hair. “Am I good or what?”

She stilled in his arms. He knew he was good. Damned good. And it was the very reason why she couldn’t meet him anywhere. She had a job to do, and why her father sent in the team, she’d never know. How in the hell did he expect her to work with Colt, Kemper, and Brand in town? Never mind the fact that he’d brought Crue and Gabe in on the job, too.

The shadows, as he called them, had been on the job for well over ninety days and they still hadn’t approached her. Why? Did her father really think she wouldn’t eventually knock on their door?

“I’ll meet you outside in five,” Colt said, releasing her. A second later, she stood on the dance floor lost in her thoughts and watching as Colt briefly returned to his table before leaving the restaurant.

Returning to her awaiting party, she cringed at the thought of reclaiming her seat and making polite conversation. She made a quick decision. Excusing herself, she approached the table where Kemper and Brand were seated.

To her surprise, they weren’t planning to dine alone. As she approached from the right, two gorgeous blondes joined them from the left.

Brand and Kemper stood up and met their dates with pecks on their cheeks. Stunned or perhaps hurt—and she wasn’t sure she had the right to be either—she turned the other way.

“Kelly, wait,” Kemper said, following her.

Brand trailed behind them. Apparently, he hadn’t hesitated to abandon their guests. As she rounded the corner, she caught the expressions of two profoundly confused women.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she snapped, searching the dimly lit hallway leading to the casino’s finest restaurants.

“Is that any kind of way to greet an old friend?” Kemper asked, leaning in and kissing her cheek.

Brand kissed her, practically smoothing the texture of his lips across hers.

Immediately, she pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” she repeated, spotting Lorenzo as he rounded the corner. “And tell Colt he can wait all night, but I’m not meeting him. Not tonight or tomorrow night or any evening thereafter.”

“Everything all right here?” Lorenzo asked, slipping a possessive arm around her waist and drawing her to his side.

“Yes,” she assured him, feeling her cheeks push upward as she forced a fake smile.

She was beginning to think she’d never find a reason to truly smile again, to know the sound of her natural laugh rather than one she faked for the sake of pleasing Lorenzo when they paraded around in public.

“We have guests waiting, darling,” he said, not at all taking the time to introduce himself to Brand or Kemper.

“Of course,” she said, lowering her eyes and refusing to acknowledge Brand or Kemper again.

In a hoggish hold, Lorenzo guided her back to their table. “You ever embarrass me like that again in public,” he said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your heart out and mail bits and pieces of it back to your daddy. Understand me?”

Before she took her seat at the table, she placed her palm to her chest, and as syrupy sweet as she could manage, she turned to the others and said, “I’m sorry, everyone, but I’m not feeling well this evening. I feel as if someone has taken a knife to my heart and sliced and diced it into a million pieces.”

As the ladies at the table gasped and placed their dainty hands over their mouths in surprise, Kelly knelt beside her chair and retrieved her silver purse. Lorenzo remained stoic, standing at her side. Leaning over, she placed a peck on his cheek and whispered in his ear, “The days of you threatening me, Lorenzo, are over. Don’t choke on your steak, love.”

* * * *

Colt had just read the text message from Kemper detailing the events that had transpired in the hallway behind the restaurant. Tucking his cell inside his interior jacket pocket, he rubbed his jaw, contemplating his next move.

If Kelly thought he’d give up that easily, she was mistaken. He’d hold her in his arms tonight if it was the last thing he did. She’d known what consequences she’d face when she’d slipped that little black dress over her head. A woman couldn’t turn a man on, rub her sweet little body all over his, and then turn him off and say good-bye again.

At least not that woman. And certainly not with this man.

He pushed his way through the throng of people exiting one of the casino’s top shows. The debut of
Lights! Camera! And Tons of Sex Action!
had apparently been the talk of the town. He had no idea what the show was about, nor did he care.

The only thing he had on his mind was Kelly. He needed to get away from this damn crowd so he could contemplate his next play.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he turned to the elevators. He’d might as well go upstairs and order room service. Kemper and Brand had their eyes on Kelly. He had no desire to stand in the middle of a busy casino with a raging hard-on.

Marching to the lifts, he caught a quick movement in his peripheral. Every cell in his body went on high alert until he spotted a flash of black. Only Kelly would try to hide behind a large white column, hoping to blend in with the casino’s lush gardens.

For a split second, he thought she might have been following him. That is, until he caught a glimpse of her inching around the pillar, apparently calculating her every move as she worked her body around the structure.

A smile tugged at his lips. He took several steps in her direction, debating whether to approach or wait but too impatient to see how the next few seconds played out.

Taking long strides, he walked around the pillar and grabbed her by the wrist. Her big brown eyes moistened as he tightened his grip and tugged her away from her chosen hiding place.

“Colt, please,” she said, glancing up at him.

“Please what?” he snapped, running out of patience.

She blinked, stared at him as if she didn’t know how to speak. Maybe she didn’t need to say anything at all. The way she watched him told the best of stories, the most erotic of tales.

He stomped to the elevators, towing her along behind him. The clickety-click of those bend-me-over-and-make-me-holler high heels made his cock throb and his balls burn.

Trying to focus on something besides his straining erection, he said, “We checked in hours ago, Kelly. Did you make an effort to greet us? Hell no. Did you offer a welcoming hug or maybe even a kiss? Not a chance.”

“Colt—I can explain,” she said, wiggling as she tried to free herself. “Let. Me. Go.”