Kansas Nights [Kansas Heat 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

Instead of showing an ounce of sense and caving to his temper, Kathy giggled and wiggled free of his hold. Jack released her without resistance, too afraid his self-control would snap and he’d give in to the urge to pin her up against the side of the bar and show little Miss Coben he wasn’t kidding.

The woman had absolutely no idea how close she was from having her skirt up around her waist and that ass glowing as he paddled it rosy. If she did, then Kathy wouldn’t have dared to tempt him with a mischievous little smile and a laughing intimidation of his own threat.

“And let me be quite clear,
stud
, I don’t give anything away for free.”

Kathy’s gaze sparkled with the kind of hungry interest Jack was all too accustomed to receiving as she glanced down his body. It didn’t take but a second for those honeyed orbs to land on the massive bulge stretching his jeans taut. Arching a brow and casting him a smug look, Kathy couldn’t seem to help stoke the fires burning in his balls with her devilish taunting.

“But I sure would like to make a trade. If you’re interested, I’m heading home.”

With a wink and a sassy toss of her hair the woman walked away from him for the third damned time. Jack still didn’t have any damn choice but to follow. Even if Kathy’s so-called information turned out to be pointless bullshit, Jack had an obligation to every man out there to set the woman straight. Somebody had to before she ran into the wrong man and ended up getting hurt. Jack couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let it happen.

* * * *

Kathy breathed deep as she watched a set of headlights trail her right into her driveway. Up high and menacing in the pitch black of the night, the bright glare had shadowed her all the way home. If it had been any other night, she’d have driven straight to Tony’s house and let the sheriff deal with the devil following her.

Only she’d invited this devil to give chase. Taking another steadying breath, Kathy glanced at her own reflection in the rearview mirror. “You can do this. Just hold steady.”

Trying to feel the confidence those words should have given her, Kathy pushed open her door and headed straight for the curved walkway that led up to her front porch. Small, with faded and peeling paint clinging to the warped wooden boards, Kathy’s rented house had never made her feel poor.

Right then, though, with Jack’s expensive truck parked bumper-to-bumper with her ancient and multi-colored compact, Kathy couldn’t help being self-conscious. She caught his reflection in the mirror as he stepped down from the truck in fluid motion of strength and power and couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing. This man was so far out of her league in just about every way.

Sexy as sin, he filled out his clearly expensive clothes to perfection. Kathy, on the other hand, had to make her own dresses if she wanted something to fit right and look fresh. She also needed control-topped panties, push-up bras, three inches of heels, and the right hemline to make herself look like a winner.

Worse, she had lift up out of her car seat like an old grandma, worrying that her skirt wasn’t stuck into the back of her pantyhose. Even as she lifted up, the rusted hatchback that Kathy had scraped enough money together to buy whined and bounced on its squeaky suspension, making it sound like it had just been released of a great burden.

Kathy didn’t know which was more embarrassing, the hint that her ass was indeed that fat or that her car was actually that cheap. Jack’s truck sure as hell wasn’t. That was only the beginning of where their differences started.

Kathy had a grim feeling that while she’d been reading tales of espionage and murder, Jack had been dodging real bullets as he chased after real-life monsters. Actually, if half of what she suspected were true, Kathy figured she might actually end up being arrested.

This time the charges wouldn’t be something stupid like indecent exposure or vandalism. This time she could actually end up in a prison instead of the county lockup.

She couldn’t worry about that now, though, not when she had to concentrate on staying a step ahead of the hand Jack used to guide her up the front steps. His presence reinforced the reality of what was about to happen, or would once Kathy managed to get the door open. “I’ve got my key right here…
somewhere
,” Kathy muttered to herself, all too aware of Jack’s dark gaze tracking her every motion. She tried to still the nerves getting the better of her and focused on plucking the right key. “Here it is.”

“Allow me.” Before Kathy could object, Jack snatched the ring out of her hand and slid the key into its lock. Her door clicked open, and he pressed it inward with a smoothness that spoke of supreme confidence. One thing for sure, she didn’t have Jack Daniels shaking in his boots.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Kathy tried to match his arrogance as she stepped into the doorway and gestured to the living room beyond. “Do come in.”

Kathy quickly moved out of his way, not wanting to get too close. She remembered all too clearly how it’d felt when he’d rubbed up against her outside the bar, remembered how good he felt, all hot and hard…Closing her eyes, Kathy fought back against the trembling in her muscles, forcing her mind to focus on anything other than the lust thickening in her veins. She needed strength for what came next.

Fortunately, Jack didn’t appear concerned with her in that moment. His gray gaze swept over the room with a critical eye as his lips thinned in obvious distaste. “You have a, uh”—Jack cleared his throat and glanced about the little-old-lady furnishings—“nice home.”

“No, I don’t,” Kathy retorted instantly. Dropping her keys and purse on a side table, she headed for the hutch tucked into the corner by the very small fireplace. “But it’s affordable and it came fully furnished. Won’t you have a seat?”

Jack eyed the couch, and she could almost read the thoughts going through his head. They weren’t original. More than one cowboy had pointed out that her seats were all sized for ladies and not the bulk of a real man. Despite their egos, though, none of the chairs had collapsed under their weight.

Not that they’d been as big as Jack. Kathy watched him lower himself gingerly onto the worn seat, half hoping he would go straight through the cushions. He didn’t, and she turned back toward the cupboard to find something that would drop him on his ass.

“So, you rent?” Jack asked politely, though Kathy expected he could honestly care less. Actually she suspected he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, from Denny Carroll. After his mom, Mattie, died he put the house and everything in it up for sale. Nobody was interested,” Kathy explained absentmindedly as she decided to go with rum. At least if she lost this game, she’d go down drinking her favorite drink.

“So he put it up for rent and you came along.” Jack filled in the rest of the story as she turned back to him, bottle in hand. “We’re drinking?”

Remember, sexy, confident, and in charge. You’re too good for Jack Daniels and you know it.
Rolling out a slow smile she hoped was filled with naughty promise, Kathy plunged into phase two of her plan with a silent prayer to her maker that this wasn’t a suicide mission.

“Well, it seems to me, I have something you want.” Letting her eyes slip down to the massive erection straining against his zipper, Kathy tried to gaze at it indulgently instead of just with rapt fascination. Not daring to linger for more than a pointed second, she forced her smile wider as she met his narrowed look once again.

“And you have something I want. What better way to negotiate a trade than with a drink?”

Jack’s gaze dropped dubiously to the bottle. He appeared to consider her offer for a moment before he gave her another one of those rough promises that Kathy couldn’t help but think was a hidden threat.

“I perform better without booze.”

“How ironic that I perform better with it.”

“Then maybe you haven’t been playing with the right men, honey.” No arrogance or smugness shined in his smoky gaze as it pinned her beneath that blunt assessment. “Tell you what, I’ll trade you one command for one drink.”

Setting the glasses down on her coffee table, Kathy hesitated to join him on the couch, concerned about his use of the word “command.” “And how exactly would that work?”

“I command. You obey. No hesitation, no questions, no denials.”

“And what do I get?”

“Well, since you apparently want to get me drunk”—Jack smiled, a hard, dangerous twist of his lips—“I’ll take that drink every time you live up to your end.”

“And what about my turn?” Kathy asked, knowing she surprised him with the idea. “Are you going to obey my commands?”

“Doubtful.” Jack shrugged, pulling the bottle forward. “I don’t want to get you drunk. I want you fresh, alert, and aware, otherwise it’s no fun.”

“Then I’ll drink every time you disobey.”

“Fine. I’ll go first.” Jack agreed, but she could see he didn’t like it. Tipping back the bottle, he filled the two shot glasses before picking one up and settling back into the cushions. “The dress, it comes off in the next thirty seconds or I don’t drink.”

“W-T-F, Kathy?”

“What?” Kathy blinked dumbly as she stared back at Rosy’s outraged expression. That phrase had to mean something bad, because there was nothing good about this situation. Kathy just didn’t know exactly what Rosy had said. “What the hell does that mean?”

“What the fuck? Is he dead?”

Kathy glanced down at the man Rosy pointed to. Jack “Daniels” Harrington lay slumped over her couch. Bent at an odd angle, he’d grouched his way into that position before giving over the deep baritone snores that grumbled out of him every few seconds.

“Would he make that noise if he was?” Kathy shot Rosy a look only to find her friend studying Jack. Passed out, he didn’t look nearly as intimidating. In fact, sleep softened his features enough to make him look almost boyishly sweet.

It was a lie, like everything else about the man. At least this one was unintentional. Awake, Jack had made no secret of what kind of man he really was—a demanding master who enjoyed making women scream…and beg. Kathy’s pussy pulsed, weeping over the memories so fresh her body still burned with the need he’d driven her to. Blocking out those thoughts before they could completely derail her, Kathy focused on her main problem—getting rid of the man.

“O-M-G!” Rosy gasped, pointing a finger at Jack like she was about to accuse him of something. “I know who this is!”

“Will you stop all that texting language?” Kathy snapped, in no mood for her friend’s dramatic shrieking. The situation was bad enough without Rosy losing it. “You know I don’t have a clue as to what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying he’s one of those military men that’s taken up residence out at the Reese Ranch.”

“They’re a security detail,” Kathy filled in, not bothering to correct the lie. “And this is Jack Daniels. He’s in charge of the detail.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good date if I didn’t know that, would I?”

“You call this a date?” Rosy lifted a brow at that. “Because that’s not exactly what it looks like.”

“Fine, you can call it whatever you want.” Kathy didn’t care. Her main worry right then was getting rid of the evidence. “But can you help me while you do it?”

“Help?” Rosy looked pointedly down at Jack. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about him.”

“Help me
move
him.”

“To where?”

Kathy would have begged her friend to help send him to the moon if Rosy could have. Even then that probably wouldn’t be far enough away to spare Kathy Jack’s temper when he woke up. That would be an unpleasant experience for him, confused and hungover, but it would be all the worse if he were both those things in her living room.

“His truck.”

Her request got an instant crack of laughter from Rosy. “That man has to weigh over two hundred pounds. There’s no way the two of us are carrying his ass out to his truck.” Rosy paused to study Jack’s cramped position on Kathy’s little couch. “Maybe we could roll him onto the floor, be a little more comfortable for him.”

“No. He’s not staying here.” Kathy wouldn’t do that to him, considering the last face he’d want to see first thing in the morning was hers. “Don’t worry about getting him to the truck. I have a plan.”

“Oh no,” Rosy groaned. “No, I don’t want a plan. Let’s just dump him on the floor and prop him up on his side.”

“No.”

“Damnit, Kathy,” Rosy pouted. “If you don’t want him here, then why did you bring him here?”

“It’s a long story.” With no simple explanation and unsure of just how much she wanted to reveal, Kathy knew her vague answer wouldn’t satisfy Rosy’s curiosity. That didn’t stop Kathy from trying to duck out of giving the long version of the truth. “I had no choice. I needed privacy.”

“Why?” Before she even finished asking the question, a blush started racing across Rosy’s cheeks, making her bulging eyes look all the more comical. “
Did you sleep with him
?”

“No!” It wasn’t a lie, but an evasion—one Kathy couldn’t stand behind when Rosy pinned her with an all-too-knowing look. “Okay, some things might have happened—”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re not getting details,” Kathy shot back in annoyance, mostly because she didn’t want to remember them herself.

It wasn’t like she volunteered to do any of those things. Jack had outright demanded them, and the man was a pervert. An exceptionally talented pervert. Kathy smiled as she considered the truth in that statement. The man knew how to make a woman’s body sing with those nimble fingers.
Oh God, and that wicked tongue.

“You’re blushing.”

“It doesn’t matter what did or didn’t happen,” Kathy stated tightly. After this night, she figured Jack wouldn’t be issuing any more kinky orders in her direction. The next time he suggested a little bondage, he’d probably be wearing his badge and carrying handcuffs. She’d have to worry about that later. Right then, Kathy had enough to deal with.