Sex Addict (Cowboy Addiction 2)

“I don’t want you here,” Kit grated out, acting as if he might mean it.

She studied his face and took a deep breath. Deciding against an argument right then, she traipsed toward Kemper’s room.

“Don’t you turn your back on me, Holly! I’m tired of your games. You made a fool out of me…and Kemper. I…we…don’t appreciate it.”

Kemper snarled. “You leave me out of this.”

Kit cleared his throat. “Holly, you don’t have a home here anymore. Exit this house and find your own way. I’ll offer you severance pay.”

She gulped. Tears threatened to spill from her throbbing eyes as she slowly faced him. Before she grabbed an opportunity to defend herself, Kemper came to her rescue. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I live here, too. I don’t want her here.”

“That’s too damn bad, bro,” Kemper drawled. “She ain’t going anywhere unless I’m with her.” After gathering his thoughts, he added, “The two of you need to grow up. Everyone has a past. I dare say if Holly pried into yours she wouldn’t be too pleased with what she’d uncover.”

Kit gritted his teeth. “Regardless of what she’d find, she should provide truthful answers to my questions. I demand honesty from my subs!”

“Ha! I don’t remember saying I’d submit to you, Kit!”

“Oh that’s right. I forgot. You think submission is beneath you!”

“I’ve never been unfaithful to you, and a tight upper lip doesn’t indicate dishonesty, by the way. It just means I’m a private person. I have a right to guard my secrets.”

“If you respect our relationship, you should want me to know who I have in my bed, hold in my arms!”

“Back off,” Kemper warned. “I won’t tell you again.”

Kit smirked. A slow smile full of malice twisted his mouth into a peculiar expression. “Have it your way. I imagine you’ll do whatever Holly tells you.”

“He probably will,” she remarked, patronizing Kit in an effort to hide her pain. “He takes care of me. You used to do the same.” She placed an open palm over her heart, propped her free hand on the small of her back, and shook her hips like she meant for him to use them. Then, she walked down the hall, following Kemper to his suite. “It’s a shame, really, Kit. You’ll miss out on a whole lot of good loving.”

A few minutes later, the door was slammed. Another five or ten, and she straddled Kemper, shrugging off her top and unclasping her bra.

Kemper took less than a second to shove up her skirt, rip away her thong, and fuck her like he meant to linger awhile. He ground out more than unlimited frustrations, and she matched him buck for buck.

The experience reminded her of mad sex, the kind of screwing a couple used when they needed to fuck but remained pissed at one another. Only as far as she knew, Kemper wasn’t angry with her. Still, the recent dispute obviously upset him.

“Forget about him,” Kemper rasped. “Concentrate on us.”

She rode Kemper’s cock, but couldn’t help but think of Kit, too. If she wanted a man who owned pent-up angst, she was in bed with the wrong brother. Of course, with the Keesling men, there was rarely a wrong brother, per se, but there sure as hell was a stubborn one.

Chapter Four

Holly mounted Kemper again like she meant to ride an untamed stud for a first-place ribbon. Her knees pressed against his thighs as he slid between her damp folds. Rubbing her clit against him, she arched forward, and after reaching behind her back, dropped her hand between his parted legs.

“Fuck me,” he crooned. “That’s nice, Holly.”

Quite carefully, she massaged his tender balls. Stroking his sac with three fingers, she occasionally squeezed the thin layer of skin right above his scrotum.

Hearty sighs fell from his lips. Resounding like a freefall of tumbling waves, a soft, rhythmic, and mesmerizing tempo set a quite different pace, a more romantic beat.

Kemper’s room was one of her favorite places to screw. With floor-to-ceiling mirrors, no angle was left unviewed. She liked observing their shapes as they rotated in tandem.

“This is what you wanted,” Kemper rasped. “I know what you need.

”

“Yes,” she agreed, tossing her head back as he impaled her. Good Lord, there wasn’t another comparable feeling. Nothing trumped good loving.