Hands on Justice [The Service Club 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (2 page)

But what would it do to me?

Professionally, it could ruin her. The Service Club might be exclusive, but it sure as hell wasn’t a secret. People knew what kind of men they were, what they required of their women, the kinds of things that went on at club meetings. In the stereotypical eyes of America, the men didn’t have to worry about their reputations. The women they dominated, however, were painted by the town in a not-so-favorable light.

Emotionally, mentally, she wouldn’t be any better off. When she ignored that demon’s lustful urges, her sensible, old-fashioned side took over. That side didn’t want endless, meaningless sex. It wanted to love and be loved. It wanted marriage, a white picket fence, and 2.5 kids.

Cade and Grant have that white picket fence.

They did, surrounding the ten-acre spread they shared known to the whole county as the M & L Ranch. But would they love her?
Could
they love her if she let her demon out to play? More to the point, could the emotions churning around her heart morph to a love they would believe when theirs weren’t the only hands she burned to feel on her body? How could a woman offer true love to a man, much less two, when a darkness inside her wanted to feed on pleasures given to her by another?

She can’t because whores don’t love, and if you let that demon free, that’s exactly what you will be, a dirty whore.

Justice pushed her hair behind her ear and pulled the file closer, flipped it open, and started reviewing the evidence against Thomas Waverly. She had kept her demon locked in its cage her entire life, and it would stay that way. She could handle tonight. She hadn’t made it to assistant district attorney by being a pushover. She made it by proving herself strong and determined with a will of steel and a head harder than granite. She controlled her life and nearly everything in it including that blasted demon.

“And tonight won’t change a thing.” She said the words aloud, needing to hear the conviction in her voice, the vow in it to make the statement stick.

She had made it through past meetings with Cade and Grant, both separately and together. Yes, the last one with Cade had landed her in his bedroom, but a quick view of all it contained and the promises that her body would one day end up his personal playground was as far as the visit had gone. She had walked away burning for so much more even as she praised herself for holding on to her tenuous resistance. She would do it again tonight because the only thing she wasn’t certain she had learned to control was her heart.

* * * *

“We’re all set.” Cade put down the phone and reached to adjust his rock-hard cock pressing insistently against the zipper of his blue jeans. Simply hearing Justice McCall’s soft, sultry voice always gave him a raging hard-on. Listening to the inflection of fear that outlined her tone and understanding its roots turned that erection to a devilish ache that roared through his appendages.

Sitting in a chair on the other side of his desk, Grant lifted a brow. “She agreed?”

“I didn’t give her a choice.” He wouldn’t give her one tonight either. The days of Justice calling the shots were over. He had waited, given her time to come to terms with what he wanted, time for the needs inside her to reach a point that she couldn’t ignore them any longer. At seven o’clock he would make his move, and there would be no turning back for any of them.

Grant slowly nodded. “She’s ready.”

“Damn right she is.”
And so am I.
Cade had heard the acceptance in her voice, the first step to her full surrender. He doubted she even realized it had been there. She wouldn’t fight them tonight. Oh, she might try at first, but that part of the Mason and Leaver vs. McCall case would be easily won. Helping her through the turmoil he knew tainted her mind and heart would take longer deliberation.

Cade knew how to do it. He had been taking steps down that long road for years. He didn’t bother to question his need to take so much care with her, to allow her the control he and Grant had given her. They wouldn’t have done that with any other woman. Justice wasn’t just any woman. Cade wanted her with a bone-deep urgency that didn’t stop at his cock, and he knew Grant felt the same. But if they had rushed things, they wouldn’t have gotten the part of her they wanted most. Her heart.

A heart so tangled in the erotic needs she’s keeping bottled inside that she doesn’t realize what it really feels.

“Where are you planning on going?” Grant rested an ankle on the opposite knee, his posture as relaxed as Cade’s with his booted feet propped on the corner of his desk. “Her reputation won’t be the first thing on her mind, but she’ll be worried about it.”

That was the least of Cade’s worries. He had taken her to restaurants before to discuss cases where they had found themselves on opposite sides of the courtroom. Grant had been present at some of those meetings, too. The people of the town seemed to chalk it up as business meetings between opposing attorneys. No one had picked up on the seduction he and Grant were carefully playing.

“I’m thinking Moonlights will do. It’s a Wednesday night. Most folks go to Mama’s Kitchen after church, so there won’t be much of a crowd.” The quiet, classy atmosphere combined with good ole Southern cooking attracted just enough of the older clientele on weeknights for what he had in mind.

Grant studied him for a long moment. “Still a bit of a leap. We want to break her bottle, not force the cork in tighter.”

“She doesn’t want privacy,” Cade reminded him even though he knew he didn’t need to.

Grant could read women as well as he could. He knew how to pleasure them, how to bring out the dark desires they kept under careful lock and key, how to control those needs once the woman set them free. Cade hadn’t been friends with the man his whole life, but damn near most of it. They had shared women, dominated them with skills and experience that came naturally to them both. They had fallen together, too. Stetson hats over cowboy boots in love with Justice McCall.

Grant’s lips stretched in a slow grin. “Neither do we.”

No, the things they wanted to do to Justice broke the mold on privacy. Cade tamped down the jealously simmering in his gut when he thought about any other hands on her body but his own. Not just Grant’s, but their buddies in the club, too. She was the only woman who had ever instilled in Cade a need to keep her all to himself while, at the same time, heightening his desire to see her writhe from pleasures he knew he couldn’t give her alone. It would take more than Grant’s help to feed the animal clawing inside her. Help he knew was set, willing, and able to oblige just as soon as he and Grant deemed her ready, as soon as they knew they held her heart.

* * * *

Justice stared into her closet full of conservative business suits and chastised herself for wishing she owned something sexier. Anything more revealing would not put the end to this night that she needed.

But it would put you exactly where you want to be.

Needs, wants, she damned both emotions as she pulled a navy-blue skirt and jacket from the hanger. She chose a purple silk blouse, short-sleeved with a slightly scooped neckline that exposed very little, to go with it. She had to think business. She had to think about the case if she expected to get through tonight with her sanity intact and her demon still locked in its cage.

Said demon managed to get one paw out as she moved to her dresser, pulled open her underwear drawer, and shut it again. She eased open the next drawer and took out a sheer garter belt and a pair of black thigh-high stockings with a lace trim.

Convincing herself that Cade and Grant wouldn’t know she wasn’t wearing panties beneath her skirt, she sat on the edge of her bed and slowly slid the stockings onto her legs. She envisioned the challenging promises that would fill Cade’s rich brown eyes, the predatory heat that would consume Grant’s pulse-thumping hazel gaze as she leaned over a table in a crowded restaurant and whispered to them that she was going commando.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she told herself aloud, standing to pull the stockings up her thighs.

No, she wouldn’t because there would still be the ride home. She didn’t worry that Cade and Grant would make a move in a public place. The Service Club kept their exhibitions private. The town might be ripe with rumors about the club, but none of them ever hinted about an outsider actually
seeing
what the men did to their women.

As long as she stayed in public with Cade and Grant, she would be safe. Of course, she wouldn’t put it past them to show up at her door with a bucket of fried chicken and all the trimmings expecting to have this dinner meeting in her house.

They would take you to their house instead.

Memories of her only visit to Cade’s bedroom swamped her as she slid into the garter belt and fastened the tops of her hose. His master suite was larger than any she had ever seen. The ultra king bed had caught her attention first, the rumpled silk sheets tattling on the cardio-pounding activities that could be performed there. She had noted an oak dresser and matching nightstands, a high-back chair, and a floor mirror also in that area of the room.

As her gaze had slid to the far side, her blood had heated to the point of molten lava. Sex toys in every size and variation had been easily within his grasp. He had a wall dedicated to floggers, belts, whips, chains, and ropes that had sent her flesh tingling in a torturous longing to feel the stings. She had seen spacer bars, stocks, ankle straps and handcuffs, suspension racks, and other items that had made her want to turn tail and run even as thick juices of anticipatory desire had seeped from her pussy lips.

Echoing juices slickened her pussy now, threatening to trickle down her inner thighs as she stepped into her skirt. She had to get the visions of the things she had seen, the evil flames of need they had ignited in her body, out of her mind or she would be forced to masturbate before she finished getting dressed.

She shot a glance at her bedside clock as she reached for her blouse and pulled it over her head. Cade and Grant wouldn’t arrive for another half hour. She had time. Maybe if she got herself off before they showed up, her resistance would be stronger.

“You’ll also smell like sex and you don’t have time for another shower,” she told herself, nixing the idea despite the ache in her clit to be touched.

Dammit, she would smell like sex anyway if she didn’t calm herself down. They would smell her arousal, and it wouldn’t be the first time. Grant had a sense of smell like a grizzly bear, and the look in his eyes when he caught her scent was always just as ferocious. Cade’s senses weren’t far off either. He had even called her on it outside the courtroom one day, telling her he could smell how hot and wet she was, how he knew her panties were soaked with cream.

“You can’t win for losing with them.” The trouble came in not knowing what she would truly win or what the stakes really were if she actually lost.

“Maybe it’s better not to know.” She sighed, straightened her blouse, and picked up her suit jacket just as the doorbell chimed.

Twin blades of excitement and apprehension sliced through her belly. She took a moment to slide her feet into a pair of navy-blue three-inch stilettos and paused at the mirror before heading for the door. The reflection that stared back at her could have been a deer caught in a set of headlights. Wide blue eyes swirled with a fear she couldn’t tamp down. Her skin was flush, heated by the erotic thoughts and hopes she couldn’t push to the back of her mind. Was she trembling, too? It sure looked like it. God knew, her insides were quivering like mad.

“Get a hold over yourself, dammit,” she scolded herself and took a deep breath. “They will pick up on every bit of it and more.”

Resigning herself to her fate, whatever that turned out to be, she walked slowly out of her bedroom and down the long hallway to her front door. Her gaze slammed into Cade’s first, his rich brown eyes unreadable as they slid down her body. She let her attention do the same, taking in his syrupy brown hair that curled slightly from beneath his black Stetson, the faint lines around his all-too-kissable mouth, the square line of his jaw that she craved to trace with her tongue. Broad shoulders hugged by a dark gray shirt led to a solid chest, rigid abdomen, jean-clad narrow hips, and powerful long legs.

Her heart rate climbed with her gaze as she dragged it back up, denying it the pleasure of locking onto the magnificent outline of his cock that his jeans failed to conceal. “You’re early.”

“It seems we are.” The smooth, lazy drawl in his tone didn’t jive with the intensity in his eyes. Authority pumped off the man in waves, drowning her in a hot tide of pleasure that was hers to experience. She had only to let down her defenses and she would be done for.

“We were tired of waiting.”

Her attention sliced to Grant, instantly latching onto the double entendre in his statement. Cade hadn’t come alone. She had known he wouldn’t even before he had told her they would pick her up. He hadn’t even left Grant in the car while he came to her door to fetch her. Instead, they hit her with a double dose of heady testosterone that left her feeling intoxicated and way off-balance.

At least they didn’t bring a bucket of fried chicken.

The thought brought her only a morsel of comfort. More than likely, that bucket of chicken was sitting on their dining room table waiting for them.