Marly's Choice (Men of August 1)

“Damn.” Sam was still shaking his head. “I just didn’t expect that.”

It wasn’t the first time Sam had made that comment in the last hour.

“Shut up, Sam,” Cade growled warningly.

Cade could still smell the sweet scent of her, the heat and desire, hear her cry of release as it rained over his tongue. He was dying. His erection was like a steel hard spike an hour later. He hurt until he could barely stand to sit in the saddle. If it didn’t go away soon, he’d be walking the damned horse.

“I just didn’t expect it,” Sam said again. “Not yet.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick you out of that damned saddle,” Cade gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Yeah, like you could do that with that hard-on killing you,” Sam snickered in amusement. “I say I’m safe for several hours yet.”

Asshole, Cade thought. He didn’t have a brother with a lick of sense; he had one that was a moron who just didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t glimpse any protection there either, bro,” Sam whispered just loud enough for him to hear. “You know the dangers, right?”

Shit. Cade closed his eyes, remembering the fiery heat of her dew slick flesh against him as he positioned himself to enter her. Hell no, there hadn’t been any protection. He shifted uncomfortably, the thought of that worrying him as nothing else could have. He had never forgot to use protection in all of his adult life.

“Cade, you’re gonna be careful next time, right?” Sam asked him somberly. “I mean, you’re not going to take a chance, are you?”

Cade was silent. The thought of Marly, pregnant with his child, was heating through his body. Her soft belly rounded with life, her face glowing with it. He didn’t think it was possible, but his body only hardened more.

“Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll take care of Marly. Now do you want to tell me one more time why we’re out here on these damned horses?”

An hour later, they drew abreast of the two cowboys waiting on them. The ride had been a slow one due to the darkness of the night and the need to protect the horses’ legs from hidden holes or unknown rocks. Behind them rode half a dozen other cowboys, their horses snorting quietly in the still air of the late night.

“Bret.” Cade dismounted, drawing abreast of the two riders waiting on them. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to drag you out here like this boss, but I was afraid the ‘copter would give us away, and the trucks too. I think you need to see this and I don’t know if you want to let anyone know we’ve found it.”

One of the old, unused line cabins was tucked into the shelter of the hill rising in front of them. The door was opened, and only a faint light showed as the door cracked open and the men walked in.

“Didn’t want to wait till morning. It’s also why I told Sam to make sure one of you stayed with Miss Marly.”

They walked into the cabin, a building that should have been forgotten, unused by man or beast in the years since Cade had bought the helicopter. But here was proof that someone had used it. It, and many other areas of the ranch. But what struck terror into Cade’s soul was the pictures scattered out over the table.

Marly. Every picture there was, was of Marly. And all of them were taken in just the past two years. Some were taken while she was at school, at home. There were pictures of her riding her horse, driving her truck, laughing up at Cade, lying out beneath the steam of the pool, Greg at her side, the bare cheeks of her rear glowing in the glossy paper.

There were pictures of her in his arms outside the barn. That first touch, the power and passion of it appearing crude and somehow vulgar when viewed through the lenses of the camera. She was perched on his thigh, his hand tucked between the cheeks of her rear, the position of his finger clearly visible, buried deep inside the tight little hole.

Cade felt something freeze in his soul. It wasn’t the only picture of him and Marly either. There were dozens displayed out on the table. Cade raised his gaze, staring at Sam as his blood beat sluggishly through his body.

“Call Brock, make certain Marly’s okay. Tell him to lock her in a room and stay with her.”

“Already took care of that.” Sam nodded but pulled the cell phone from the holder at his hip anyway.

Quickly, he keyed in the numbers. “I told him before we left. Before I knew what Bret found.”

Cade listened silently as Sam spoke to his brother. Sam’s voice stayed steady and calm, indicating there were no problems at the house. As he continued the phone call, Cade walked around the cabin, the beam of the flashlight picking out more signs of habitation. The boxes of ammunition, several of which were halfway empty. Gun oil and cleaning squares, saturated with the efforts of cleaning and maintaining more than one weapon.

The bed in the back was neatly made. On it laid another picture. One of Marly staring into the direction of the camera from her balcony, her expression dreamy, her blue eyes shadowed with emotion as she braided her hair. The picture must have been taken the summer before, because she was barefoot, propped against the railing and enjoying the morning.

He walked back to the table slowly, staring down at the pictures once again, a wave of fury washing over him. The bastard was watching her, violating her. The son of a bitch was obsessed by her.

“Is this the way you found them?” Cade waved his hand over the table and the pictures it contained.

“We ain’t touched anything, boss,” Bret assured him. “We found this right after dark, checked the area over and then called Sam. I figured it was your call what we did.”