Sarah's Seduction (11 page)

“It excites her. I saw it in her eyes,” he denied, remembering the flare of heat that made her golden eyes sparkle.

Marly shook her head, her eyes flashing at him in impatience. Lora Leigh

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“I know Sarah, Brock. I went to school with her. If it excites her, it’s because she sees and feels your excitement for it. That might make her fantasize. Make her wonder. Women do that. All the time. But the reality of it is a different matter entirely.”

“So what do I do?” He pushed his hands through his hair then rested his elbows on his knees as he regarded her. “Marly, I need her.”

He watched her wince. He knew she was aware of how that need would be transmitted to Cade. It was the only reason Cade would lust after another woman.

“Start by telling her the truth, Brock.” She met his gaze, determined, fierce. “Don’t lie to her. Don’t try to trick her with it. Be up front with her. Sarah is an honest person and she hates liars. That would not have changed in the years since school. If you aren’t honest with her, then no matter how she loves you, she will refuse to accept you or your family.”

“I have to get her to listen first,” he sighed. “Getting close to that woman isn’t easy any more. She’s like a damned skittish foal, all legs and big golden brown eyes, and ready to run at a moment’s notice.”

Marly was clearly fighting her need to smile.

“Only you would compare a woman to a horse, Brock.” She laughed, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “If she really wants you, then you’ll find a way. She’ll let you try because she’s praying the rumors are lies and that you need her more than you need your brothers.”

She watched him intently when she said that. Brock could see the unspoken question, the need to understand herself.

“And if she loves you,” Cade spoke from the doorway, his voice dark, pitched with sexuality, desire, and haunting pain. “She’ll know neither is possible.”

Marly’s lips pressed together, a seductive little pout that had Brock recalling the feel of those tender curves sucking his cock. She flicked a sideways look at Cade.

“You weren’t invited into this conversation,” she told him, a pout clearly rising in her voice.

“If I waited for an invitation these days, then I would be taking care of myself in more ways than one,” he reminded her, moving slowly into the bathroom. His eyes flickered to the array of articles in the trashcan. The items used occasionally on her body to make it ready for her family’s lusts were lying there, discarded. Brock watched as satisfaction edged Cade’s mouth. His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, his look becoming heavy lidded, filled with desire.

“I’m not in the mood. I haven’t finished my bath.” But her voice had thickened, indicating otherwise.

Cade smiled. The powerful love he felt for Marly was reflected in the curve of his lips, but his expression was tinged with sorrow.

“Sure?” he asked her softly, shrugging the shirt from his shoulders as he glanced at Brock.

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Brock glanced at Marly. Her face was flushed, arousal glittering in her eyes. She knew what her lover needed, even if she didn’t understand why he needed it. She directed a sultry, inviting look to both men. Brock looked at his brother, seeing the question in his eyes, the unspoken hesitation in Cade. The dark shadows in the other man’s eyes were more noticeable than before, the brooding intensity clearer. Cade was his brother. Like he told Sarah, it didn’t always make sense, but the bond was there. There was no way to break it. No way to break the need and the pleasure that came from it. Brock pulled his T-shirt from his body, then stood to his feet and loosened the soft, casual jeans.

“You’re making me very angry, Cade August,” Marly whispered as he helped her from the tub, tossing a towel to Brock. There was no anger in her voice though, just hot, untamed arousal.

Brock knelt at her feet, hastily wiping bubbles from Marly’s slender curves. When he reached her thighs, he parted them, his mouth going to the smooth, waxed flesh that tempted him. His tongue reached out, running down the small valley between the plump lips that shielded her secrets.

He heard her groan, tasted the sweetness of her cream. He let his tongue massage her clit gently, his hands holding her hips now as she cried out at whatever caress Cade was bestowing as well. Bending closer, he licked down to the entrance to her body, his tongue sliding in with a smooth, firm stroke. She jerked against him, and he lapped at the soft pulse of her nectar.

Her thighs widened further as Brock moved his mouth back to her clit, his fingers sliding up her thigh, two pushing into her vagina as she bucked against his mouth. She was crying out now, suspended between the two brothers, rocked by the pleasure, just as she always was.

This was what he wanted for Sarah. To know the pleasure, the incredible sense of sharing and love that welled through the experience. Marly lifted her leg, propping her dainty foot on the tub as Cade’s fingers began to penetrate and stretch her nether hole, coating it with the lubricating gel he used excessively, thrusting in counterpoint to Brock’s fingers in her cunt, he imagined it was his Sarah. Her cries echoing around them as they drove her to her first climax.

Long minutes later, Marly lay stretched out over Cade’s body, impaled by his erection, her head tossing as Brock moved behind her, inserting the head of his cock at the entrance to her anus. She was tight. So damned tight. He slid in by slow inches; tensing, growling with the pleasure as he felt her muscles relax, accept him. He gripped her hips, bending over her, hearing Cade’s whispered encouragements to her, the deepening lust in his voice, the need and the drive for release suddenly echoing in his voice.

“I love you, Marly,” Cade cried out to her. “God help me, I love you.”

Brock felt the hard thrust of his brother’s cock into Marly’s vagina, the retreat, then Brock thrust in to the hilt behind her, hearing her shattered cries of pleasure, feeling her Lora Leigh

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tighten, merge with them, drawing them together through the acceptance, the rush of climax that began to fill them.

Brock closed his eyes, his hands gripping her hips as he found the familiar rhythm. He imagined Sarah, screaming for more, begging for release. His chest tightened with emotion, his cock swelled, pulsed. He groaned, surging inside the tight anus carefully, forcefully, sweat covering his body as he fought for control. Then she tightened, shuddered, he heard Cade groaning, felt the hard slamming thrusts into the spasming cunt and let his body go. Two hard, quick thrusts and he was releasing the hot jets of his semen into Marly’s body. But it wasn’t her name on his lips, it wasn’t her body he felt. It was Sarah’s. Always, it was Sarah. Lora Leigh

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CHAPTER TEN

Sarah was amazed at the incredible sixth sense that told a woman when a man had found release with another woman. She was never certain what it was that assured her of the fact. A look, a shadow in the eyes, perhaps the way they moved, but when she saw Brock that night, she knew he had. And she knew who it had been. The same woman sitting at the table with him and his brother. His brother’s woman. It wasn’t just the rumors she had heard over the years, but a shadow in his eyes, the way Marly glanced over at Brock, the way his eyes flickered guiltily in Sarah’s direction. Had he taken her today, Sarah wondered furiously. Had he relieved the lust he claimed he had for her with another woman?

She met Brock’s eyes across the distance separating them, anger storming over her. She watched him sigh, a slow careful heave of his chest, a flash of pain in his eyes. Bastard. He was no better than Mark. There he sat with the woman he likely screwed on a regular basis, watching her like
she
had hurt
him
. Tears burned at her eyes, tightened her chest, and she wanted to scream with the unfairness of it.

“Sarah, you just dazed out on me.” Dillon Carlyle sat across the table from her, lounging casually in his chair, watching her with an expression that clearly showed his amusement.

He was more handsome than he had a right to be, with his thick black hair and brilliant green eyes. He was almost as tall as Brock, but cockier, more cynical rather than shadowed.

“You knew he would be here.” She turned back to him, almost shaking with anger as she picked up her wineglass and finished it off quickly. Dillon lifted a brow, then refilled the glass. She took a healthy drink of it as well.

“Actually, I wasn’t certain,” he told her, his lips quirking in a smile. “But I was curious about the rumors circulating.”

If he weren’t her brother, she would kill him. She might just do it anyway.

“What rumors?” she bit out, trying to pretend they didn’t exist. His look chided her. He knew her too well and she had never appreciated how easily he used the information when he wanted something from her.

“Oh, the little ones that say you’ve joined the August family.” He shrugged, watching her carefully. He seemed worried though. Hell, she didn’t blame him, she was worried. “Have you, Sarah?”

Sarah flushed. She felt the heat begin in her neck and work its way to her hairline. She couldn’t get away from it, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t escape Brock Lora Leigh

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or what he wanted. She felt pummeled from every direction and she was growing weaker by the day.

“No.” She drank more of the wine, ignoring the once appetizing pasta that sat in front of her.

“Are you thinking about it?” He frowned now as he watched her. “You seem pretty upset over him.”

“No.” She wasn’t even considering it. Damn Brock. Damn Dillon for bringing her here. Damn her aching, for wanting to give Brock August whatever he wanted in return for the pleasure that sang through her body at his touch. In return for the look of approval, the flare of emotion that came to his eyes when he touched her. Like he finally had all he ever wanted in her arms. A lie. It was all a lie, and she couldn’t make herself accept it.

“I think you are.” He was suddenly serious. “Do you know what you’re getting into, Sarah?”

She glanced at him, then her eyes went back to Brock. He was watching her, his gaze hot and intense. God, she hated it when he did that. It made her ache, made her want what she knew she couldn’t have. What Marly was clearly comfortable with.

“I’m a moron.” She lifted the glass again, taking a healthy drink of more wine. She was insane to be so aroused when she was so pissed off. She was insane to allow herself to be drawn into this. She knew what was happening, knew what he was trying to do to her. Why was she allowing it?

Her gaze flicked to Dillon’s concerned one. His green eyes had darkened, narrowed on her.

“Don’t look at me that way, Dillon,” she bit out. “I’m not one of your puzzles.”

“You’ve always been a puzzle, darling,” he said softly. “I’ve wondered for years actually, why it hadn’t happened sooner. Brock used an incredible amount of self control to stay away from you until the divorce.”

“God, did everyone know?” She rubbed her brow, trying to fight the tension she could feel gathering there.

“Not everyone, Sarah.” He leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table as he watched her. “A few of us, though. A very few who are part of his circle of friends.”

Fear leapt into her heart. Her eyes widened.

“No, Sarah.” He shook his head slowly. “Just friends. The August men don’t share their women. They are incredibly greedy.”

Hah, that was a good one.

“Not greedy enough,” she muttered.

She looked at him again. He was watching Dillon now, a harsh frown on his face.

“He’s very angry with me.” There was an edge of resignation in his voice. “I hope he doesn’t break my nose too.”

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“What?” She looked at him in surprise, her gaze going to the small flaw in an otherwise straight, aristocratic nose.

“Cade broke it over Marly.” He grinned, intercepting her look. “I wrecked the Harley with her on it while trying to make him jealous.”

She kept her mouth closed only by sheer strength of will.

“Why did you wreck the Harley?” That one had always confused her. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now. She was on it. When he found us, she was hysterical, crying. Man, don’t make Marly cry, that guy freaks out.”

She grimaced. She had no desire to hear anymore about the other woman. She knew too much about her the way it was.

“Dillon, your life is too exciting to suit me,” she said. Glancing at Brock again, their eyes met. She frowned at the anger she saw there, the possessiveness. Ownership. She gritted her teeth. Turning her head she lifted the wine glass and drained it.

Dillon just looked at the glass when she set it down pointedly.

“You’ve had enough,” he said softly.

“That isn’t your call, Dillon,” she told him firmly. “Pour another one or I’ll do it myself.”

He sighed heavily, reaching for the wine bottle.

“I’m sure glad you’re a classy drunk, Sarah, I have a feeling you have high intentions of tying one on.” He poured the wine, then sat back and watched as she sipped heavily from it.

“I’m not a classy drunk,” she denied, casting him a hateful look. She sent Brock one for added measure, ignoring his surprised look, and the amusement on Marly’s face as she whispered something to Brock.

Sarah’s fists clenched at the easy familiarity the woman displayed to him. Cade was sitting beside her, his eyes dark, considering, as he watched Sarah. She wanted to ignore the flare of curiosity that look ignited, but she was just drunk enough to admit to it. God, she needed to be committed. She emptied her glass.

“Sarah, let me take you home.” Dillon’s voice was incredibly sympathetic.

“I’m pitiful, huh?” She sighed deeply, avoiding his gaze. “I can’t keep my eyes off him, Dillon.”

She wouldn’t cry, she assured herself. She had known the rules going in, she just hadn’t expected the pain.

“He hasn’t been any better in the last six years, Sarah, he just never let you see it. I remember days I saw him outside the library, watching you leave. There were many times I sat with him, watching him try to drown the need with liquor.”