“But you think her past will somehow resurface?”
Harley sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, take it from someone who should’ve put the past to bed a long time ago—you’re waiting around for information you don’t need. You start diggin’ and you may not like what you find in the shallow graves. Leave the dirt where it belongs—in the garbage can. If you don’t, the stench is liable to run you off.”
“So you went digging for information on the doctor?”
“Yeah,” Markie replied. “Wanna know what I found?”
Harley shrugged. He was afraid to ask.
“A woman who adored her husband and the perfect little family.”
“And you’re telling me not to dig for dirt?”
Markie shooed him away. “Oh sugar, we already know you’re not gonna find a wife and five kids. Your woman doesn’t even have an ex to speak of now.”
“We’ll count ourselves lucky there,” Harley said, wondering when they’d have the ballistics report back. Tony McCoy had gunshot wounds to the back. He took one in his lower gut but the coroner suggested the fatal wounds were those from the rear, which suggested someone in McCoy’s posse had killed him.
“Do you care about her or not?” Markie put his hands on his hips. “It really is that simple. There’s nothin’ complicated about it. Your brother sure is smitten by her.”
“She must’ve cast some kind of spell on him, and he’s not the only one.”
“You’re right about that.” Markie smiled. “If you ask me, she’s already worked her magic on all of you boys. You’re just the one fightin’ it. And honey, take it from someone who knows. It ain’t hurtin’ them because you’re wrestlin’ around with your feelings.
“I can promise you when they’re in bed with her, they ain’t the least bit concerned about you or where you are. What you need to worry about is how long it’ll take before she feels the same way. Stay away long enough and five won’t be a party. It’ll be a crowd.”
Chapter Twelve
The foreplay had been sweet and gentle, but regardless of how special it was or how much the fooling around had turned her on, Sable was ready for the finale. They could always have an encore.
For now, she wanted the thrashing fuck, five cocks coming at her from all different directions.
They’d loved her like a princess, handled her with care. Now she wanted them to screw her like they meant it, fuck her like they couldn’t get enough.
She stretched out over Mac’s body, dragging her palms from his belly to his hard chest. He ground his molars and looked down his long and slender nose as if he wanted to just dare her to come and grab him, to take what she wanted, seize what she needed.
He clutched her hips and lifted her above his cock. Her pussy clenched as she imagined the first impalement, the first stroke from his long shaft.
“Drive it inside me,” she whispered, touching his chin.
“Not yet, vixen.” That guttural voice made her shiver. “You’re not ready yet.”
“Oh yes I am,” she promised. “I’ve been ready.”
She was prepared for them long before Harley decided to join them and before he arrived there, they’d tortured her with touching and kissing, nothing too intimate or personal but hot and sexy all the same.
Nicholas ran his lubed finger down the seam of her ass. She hadn’t seen the lubes but she could smell the berry fragrance as it filled her senses and made her mouth water with delicious thoughts. She shivered as she considered the five or six reasons he might have used a flavored lubricant.
These men didn’t mess around when it came down to loving a woman. Maybe there was a reason they’d chosen a suitable name for their town. They worked hard. Played hard. And when all was said and done, they were a handful of trouble in business and in pleasure.
She was kind of impressed.
Harley inched closer and pulled her face to his. He gave her a mouthwatering kiss while Mac took her breasts in hand, pinching her nipples until she moaned, sucking the tiny points until she was certain she could die from too much pleasure.
Her pussy was hot and wet and she wanted, no, she needed satisfaction.
She dipped her hand between her legs and touched her clit. She sighed as a shot of vibrations zipped through her pussy. All she’d need now was just a stroke or two and she’d sing out in pure exquisite bliss.