Sarah's Seduction (24 page)

Lora Leigh

Sarah’s Seduction

136

Brock jerked the zipper of her skirt down, pushing at the soft fabric until it fell from her hips and pooled on the floor. Stepping out of her sandals, she stood still as Brock pulled the shirt over her head, his hands going to her breasts as she sighed in heated pleasure.

His lips captured the sound, covering hers, his tongue pushing between her lips. His arms went around her, his big body bending close, protective, sheltering. She weakened at the surge of passion that raced through her. The way her body leaned into him instinctually, flesh meeting flesh, heat and fiery need bonding them together. Sarah leaned into him, into his kiss. Her lips opened for his tongue, hers twining with it, a willing captive to his seductive kiss, his dark desires. Her body ached, her hips pressing into his, the flesh of her stomach pillowing the erection that throbbed between them.

She gasped, feeling him move. He swung her into his arms and the emotion that action sent surging through her terrified her. Had she ever felt more a woman? Had she ever needed anything as desperately as she needed Brock?

“I won’t last long.” He laid her on the bed, bending over her, his lips hot and fierce as they bathed her neck in kisses.

Sarah gasped, her hands going to his head, her fingers spearing through the night black hair. His lips caressed her neck, his tongue licking at her skin, making her shiver, making her hips arch to the hard male thigh that pressed between her own. Oh. That felt good. Her eyes opened in startled awareness, only to be caught by the heat in Brock’s. He knew, damn him. She rubbed the bare flesh of her inner lips against his thigh, her breathing now an audible series of short little cries. The sensitive flesh, so slick and hot, pulsed, tingled. It spread as she pressed against his thigh, her clit meeting no interference in pressing against the hard male muscles of his upper leg.

“Feel good?” The slow smile tilting his lips fascinated her. She rubbed against him again, her thighs tightening on him, sensations racing through her body at a speed that defied her ability to grasp and hold onto them long enough to decide if she could bear them. She could only cry out, arch and grind against the hard male thigh, seeking more.

“Not yet, Sarah.” His chuckle sounded rusty. Unused. Happiness, not amusement lit his eyes. It lightened them, even as the arousal fought to darken them.

“Oh God, Brock. Don’t stop.” She gripped his hips, stopping him from moving back from her. “It’s so good. Don’t you dare move.”

She ground herself against him, feeling the moisture seeping from her vagina, coating sensitive flesh, his leg, making a perfect base for the exquisite tingles of heat and building urgency between her thighs.

“You’ll come on my leg,” he whispered at her lips, pressing harder against her.

“Wouldn’t you rather come in my mouth?”

Sarah lost her sanity at the sound of those whispered words. Lora Leigh

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“Will it feel as good?” she demanded, her breathing harsh. She couldn’t imagine anything this good. Her bare slick flesh in perfect touch with his hard thigh. She wanted to come and she could, if he would only let her.

“Better, baby.” He eased back from her, ignoring her cry at his desertion. He moved down the bed, spreading her thighs, lowering himself between them, watching her, his eyes hot, hungry. The insatiable light in those light blue eyes sent her pulse careening. The way he licked his lips, watched her, his smile filled with knowledge an instant before his tongue licked over the smooth lips of her cunt.

“Oh, Brock.” Her hands clenched in his hair as fire sped through her body. He licked her again, his tongue dipping into the narrow slit, raking over her clit, unhindered by the curls once growing there. Sarah’s head tossed on the pillows. His caresses slid over her flesh with soft, smooth motions. Nerve endings she never knew she had were suddenly sizzling to life. Wanton, gasping, she was on the verge of begging for more when she felt that diabolical tongue circle her clit, an instant before his suckling mouth covered it.

Sarah’s hips came off the bed, a strangled cry erupting from her throat. At the same time, she felt his fingers, knowing, experienced, wicked in their quest to drive her past the edge of sanity, slide deep within her gripping vagina. She exploded violently. Her cries echoed around the room as she felt the shudders wracking her body. Deep, intense, tightening her muscles, sending her careening into a climax so strong, it left her gasping for breath.

Brock moved over her as the last vibrations tore through her body. Before they could ease, he pushed his cock swift and deep inside the greedy depths of her body. Sarah’s head tossed, her hands gripped his shoulders, her eyes staring in dazed fascination at the man by the bedroom door.

She couldn’t speak. The look in his eyes, so like Brock’s, dark, intense, hungry, ate into her. Her nails bit into Brock’s shoulders, her hips pushing against his in desperation, her eyes locked with those of his brother.

“Brock,” she cried out his name, unable to control the building lust rising inside her. She should be shocked, horrified, not so excited she was nearly demented in the grip of a carnality so wicked, she could do nothing but scream out the climax tearing through her.

Brock’s hips drove her through the violent shudders of release, then his harsh male groan sounded in her ear and she felt the hard, rapid jets of his semen spurting in her. Pulse after pulse as he trembled against her, whispering her name as he shuddered one last time. Sarah watched, barely able to keep her eyes opened, as Sam slipped from the room.

Lora Leigh

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rick and Tara Glaston weren’t married, as Brock explained the next day. Rick was Tara’s ex-brother-in-law, a tall, muscular ex-Special Forces Commando and part owner of Security Unnamed, a private protection business. Tara was tall, with red hair and green eyes, and a light scattering of freckles across her nose. Rick was taller, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Both were well acquainted with the August family. With them, was Tara’s sister, Heather James. She was a bit shorter than Tara, standing close to five feet four inches rather than her sisters five feet six. She was slender, compact, with her long dark auburn hair falling in a thick braid down her back, her darker green eyes solemn as she watched the group.

Also in attendance to the little meeting was Dillon. A more than furious Dillon who listened to the proceedings with a dark frown. He had shown up early that morning, threatening to kill every August man that breathed if anything happened to his sister. Sarah rolled her eyes. He was acting like an overprotective father rather than a sometimes brother.

“I brought a team with me this time, I have them scattered along security points where the house can be accessed by a weapon.” Rick pointed to several areas on a makeshift map. “We don’t want a repeat of Sam’s little accident.”

Sam and Cade had been shot two years before by a stalker, possibly intent on getting to Cade. Sarah watched the men, listening to the bodyguards, and fought the reality of the situation. She felt too overwhelmed and on the edge of an abyss she was afraid of entering.

Watching Brock, seeing his concern, his determination to protect her, frightened her. He would stand between her and danger and she knew it. The proof lay in his determination to keep her at his side.

“I want everyone to learn from the mistakes made the last time we were here.”

Tough, no nonsense Tara spoke up, eyeing each man individually.

“Yeah, remember, we’re cowboys not green berets this time, huh?” Sam rolled his eyes at some private joke.

“Be careful, Sarah, Brock and Cade like to play cowboys and stalkers with madmen.” Marly grimaced. “Cade has the scar to prove it.”

“Hey, I have a scar too.” Sam pouted. How a grown man with features as bold and near savage as his could actually pull it off, was a mystery to Sarah. But he managed.

“Yes, you do, and you were such a big boy about your boo boo.” Heather grinned at him, drawing a round of chuckles from everyone but Sarah. Sam cast her a bold, sexual look. “Wanna kiss my boo boo again, baby?”

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Heather flushed, her eyes narrowing on him with promised retribution.

“That wasn’t your boo boo she had in her mouth, Sam,” Tara reminded him tartly.

“If it was, then you’re in some major trouble.”

“Okay, boys and girls. Remember, stay inside or just in the ranch yard, no riding off for midnight rides.” Rick gave Sam a hard look. “And no sneaking out to play cowboys and stalkers.” Brock and Cade were next. “Maybe we can catch the bastard this time.”

“Last shot, Rick.” Cade stood to his feet, all humor wiped from his face. “I want to at least know who it is this time. Get your people on that.”

“We’ve had them on it for two years, Cade,” Rick bit out, his hazel eyes cool, hard.

“Our people and a PI firm. There’s no trace of evidence linking anyone.”

“Only one person could be behind it,” Cade told him carefully, flickering a look at Sarah.

“He’s dead, Cade.” Rick shook his head. “I checked that myself. ID was positive. It can’t be him.”

“Then it has to be someone close to him, who knew.” Cade wrapped his arms around Marly instinctively as she moved to his side. “Find out. Concentrate there. It couldn’t be coming from anywhere else.”

Rick sighed roughly, dragging his hands over his short, spiky hair. “I’ll try a few other angles. But I swear, that line is pretty much exhausted.

“Just find the bastard, I don’t care where you have to look.” His voice, harsh and cutting, sliced through the room. “I’m sick of having to lie awake at night worrying about the women in this house. I pay you damned good. Now make your fucking money.”

He stomped out of the dining room, the heels of his boots beating out a harsh rhythm on the hardwood floor.

Marly sighed, looking at everyone apologetically.

“It’s okay, Munchkin, we understand and so does Rick.” Sam leaned back in his chair, sighing with a rough breath. “Give him time, he’ll settle down.”

Marly nodded, then turned and followed Cade. Her petite body, dressed in clinging white silk gave her the appearance of an innocent seductress. She was soft spoken, gentle and too damned sweet for the life Sarah knew she lived. She wondered how the other woman did it and kept from being bitter, cynical.

“Miss Tate, we’ll be checking your ex out as well,” Rick told her, turning to her now. “Make certain he’s not a smoke screen.”

“The sheriff is doing that,” she protested. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m sure he does.” Rick nodded. “But this way, I know it to the bone. It’s best for all of us.”

Sarah shrugged. He could beat a dead horse as long as he wanted to. Lora Leigh

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“I need to go home soon, get my clothes.” She turned to Brock. “If there are any left.”

“Let one of our employees handle that instead,” Tara requested. “Make a list of anything else you want right now and we’ll have it brought here. We need to keep everyone together for now.”

Sarah pressed her lips together in irritation. She was beginning to feel like a prisoner.

“It won’t last long, baby,” Brock promised her. “Whoever the bastard is, once he starts, he doesn’t take long to show himself.”

“And I want him this time,” Rick said, his voice hard. “Last shot boys, let’s see if we can’t get it right this time.”

* * * * *

Sam slipped from the house as darkness was edging over it. He ignored the edge of nervousness in the pit of his stomach, the anticipation that had his dick throbbing. He was horny, he assured himself. That was all it was. He could handle one little spitfire long enough to find out why the hell she had come back. He moved quickly across the back yard, heading for the small van parked past a cluster of shoulder-high boulders about two hundred feet from the kitchen door. He had waited as long as he could. His curiosity, his lust wouldn’t allow him to delay the confrontation another moment. As he neared it, the side door was pushed open, and Rick came out of it growling.

“Tara finds out about this and she’ll kick your ass, cowboy,” he snarled. “I’ll watch out here, but you won’t have long.”

Sam grinned, tipped his hat and jumped into the van. The door was slammed shut then locked behind him.

The dim light from the camera monitors at the side of the van spilled a tenuous, soft glow through the darkened interior, enabling him to catch sight of Heather as she watched from the back.

“Rick’s not going to cover for you again, Sam.” Heather was sitting on the small bed at the side of the van, one slender, jean clad leg propped on the thin mattress as she leaned back against the van wall, her grin mocking. “And if I had known ahead of time you were coming, then I wouldn’t either.”

Her slender face, with her small pouty lips fascinated him. The slightly tilted green eyes, and slender arched brows all combined to create a fairy tale image that should have been dressed in gauzy silk, not jeans and a rough cotton blouse. He wanted to tear her clothes from her body. He wanted to stroke her satin skin. He wanted to rage at her for making him feel again.

“Why the hell didn’t you come back?” He faced her, furious. A year. A damned year and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her.

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She quirked a slender brow mockingly. Sam felt the blood begin to heat in his veins, his cock hardening to the point of pain.

“A blowjob does not a relationship make, cowboy,” she said sarcastically, her gaze flickering to the bulge that had grown beneath his jeans. He remembered that sweet mouth, so small, so damned tight and hot. He clenched his fists as he stared down at her, fighting his needs.

“If I remember correctly, it was a hell of a lot more than a simple blowjob, sugar,”

he bit out not wanting to remember, to ache for her mouth. “I do believe you screamed pretty damned loud while I ate that sweet pussy of yours.”