“Why?” She shrugged. “The divorce was final weeks ago, Josh. There’s no reason for him to do this.”
“He’s been running his mouth about you and Brock a bit. Seems pretty put out over how easy you’ve put it behind you,” he told her. “Have you seen him lately?”
Sarah shrugged, remembering Mark’s last visit to the house. He had been enraged, something she had never seen from him before. The violence he had shown had scared her, but she couldn’t imagine him doing this.
“A couple of days ago,” she said uncomfortably. “He came to the house.”
“Was he angry?” Joshua asked her, understanding, sympathy emanating from him.
“Yes. A bit.”
“A bit nothing. He was furious. I walked in to find him throwing her across the room.” Sam stepped in now, his voice a low growl.
Sarah frowned at him, wishing Brock would keep his brothers in line. She didn’t need three men trying to take over her entire life.
“Sarah, I need you to be honest with me.” Joshua ran his fingers through his short brown hair. “It won’t help if you try to hide things from me. I can’t help you that way.”
She sighed impatiently.
“I don’t think Mark did this,” she bit out, shaking her head. “But I don’t know, Josh. I can’t believe it’s even happened, let alone that someone I know could do it.”
“Cade?” Josh looked to the elder August, causing resentment to flare in her chest.
“It’s not Cade’s house, Josh.” She drew the sheriff’s surprised attention back to her. “Why ask him?”
“Sarah,” Brock whispered, his voice low at her back as he tightened his arms around her. “Josh and Cade can only help, baby.”
“Well I don’t need your brothers’ help. Either of them.” She pushed away from him, turning to stare into his worried eyes. She hated throwing his concern back in his face, but they were running over her. Making her feel like the helpless little woman she swore she would never be again.
Something flashed in his eyes. A flare of arousal. A hidden pulse of some inner excitement, answered by the sudden flare of heat between her thighs. Dammit, she didn’t need this right now. It confused her, excited her, the way he turned all male and forceful when she defied him. She didn’t need him doing this to her, in the middle of such chaotic events.
“Ms. Tate,” Cade began.
“Are any of my clothes salvageable?” She ignored Cade August’s warning protest.
Joshua sighed wearily, watching her with a disgruntled male expression.
“I don’t know, Sarah. I say you go buy a few things until tomorrow. I can let you in then. Until then, I want to give my men time to go over the house, get what evidence they can and get out. You might want to call Bucky back in too, to clean the place up for you.”
Bucky Leddingham and his wife had cleaned it last time. Sarah gritted her teeth. At this rate, every penny she had would go out on cleaning fees.
“Fine.” She closed her eyes, fighting for patience. “What about my car? Can I have it?”
“Sarah,” Brock’s voice dropped, the vein of warning heavier now. “We’ll get you some clothes. You can come back to the ranch.”
“Maybe I don’t want to go to the ranch,” she told him, nerves and anger rising inside her as the three August men watched her carefully.
“Sarah?” Marly stepped forward, laying her hand on Sarah’s arm, watching her with an unspoken message Sarah fought to understand. “Can I talk to you a minute? Alone.”
Sarah looked at the expressions on the men’s faces. Male disgruntlement filled them all, a flare of dominance, of sexual suggestion lurking on their expressions.
She allowed the other woman to lead her to the front of Brock’s jeep. Turning back, she watched as the men huddled together, their voices low as they talked to the sheriff.
“Sarah, I don’t want to frighten you, but staying alone isn’t a good idea right now,” Marly told her, her voice soft as they stared at each other. “I know the men can get pretty forceful, but Brock will go crazy with worry. He’ll stay with you, and that will make Sam and Cade crazy. Please don’t force me to put up with all that male concern alone.”
There was a slow smile, a flash of laughter in her eyes. But Sarah also saw the feminine worry. She knew as well as Sarah did what each man would want if she went to the ranch. There lay the problem. Sarah didn’t want to face the complications, the inherent suggestion of agreement should she do as Brock wanted. And she knew that was uppermost in each man’s mind. It was there, that sexual knowledge, the edge of satisfaction in their eyes.
“You don’t want me there, Marly.” There was no sense in beating around the bush.
Sarah glanced at Brock. His raised his head to look at her, his light blue eyes zeroing in on her by instinct. Affection, worry, lust, she read each emotion in his expression. It terrified her.
“Sarah, I want you safe, for Brock’s peace of mind. If Cade is right then you are seriously in danger.” Marly’s declaration had her turning back to the other woman in surprise.
“What are you talking about?” she asked her, confusion filling her.
“Last year, Cade found pictures of me and him together. We thought it was my stepfather stalking me. After he tried to kidnap me, we were certain it was. But he swore it wasn’t. Even the bodyguards we hired weren’t certain after all the evidence came to light. Now Cade is convinced it’s something more. Something aimed at the brothers. Now, after your attack, and the pictures of you and Brock he received this morning, there’s no way we can ignore the threat.”
Sarah flushed, then paled. Her knees weakened, her stomach churning with an edge of fear.
“He saw the pictures?” She couldn’t look at Marly. A fury of embarrassment washed over her.
“Sarah, come to the ranch.” Marly gripped her arm in an effort to convince her. “It doesn’t matter who saw the pictures. They exist. That means you’re in danger. Don’t let Brock be hurt because of your stubbornness. Cade couldn’t bear it. Please.”
Sarah trembled. She looked in Marly’s eyes and saw acceptance, resignation.
“I will not sleep with all three of those men,” she bit out, ignoring the surprise Marly showed at her declaration. “I won’t do it, Marly.”
Bitterness edged the smile shaping the other woman’s lips.
“So you know?”
“Brock told me. And I won’t do it.” At least, she hoped she wouldn’t.
“They won’t force you, Sarah,” she sighed, in relief or disbelief Sarah wasn’t certain. “You’ll come to the ranch then?”
“Do I have a choice?” Sarah asked her, knowing she didn’t.
“Not a safe one.” Marly glanced over at the men then, smiling at her Cade.
Sarah caught the edge of adoration in the man’s gaze. It shocked her. How could a man love a woman that much and still touch another?
“We’ll talk at the ranch.” Marly caught the question in her eyes. “If you like?”
“I think we need to.” Sarah squared her shoulders. As far as mistakes went, she knew this one would be a doozy.
“Come on then, let’s relieve their minds. We’ll stop at Claire’s and you can get some new clothes. We’ll all come out tomorrow and see how much damage has been done.”
Marly led the way back to where the men still talked in low voices, their tones vibrating with an edge of violence.
“Sarah?” Brock pulled her into his arms as she neared him. “Is everything okay?”
Her eyes locked with Cade’s as he pulled Marly into his arms. Hers narrowed, his crinkled with amusement.
“Fine,” she sighed. “I guess I’m going to the ranch.”
Brock’s hands tightened at her stomach and she felt the almost immediate swelling of his cock as he pressed against her back. She shivered at the feeling, her heart beating in a fierce, hard rhythm at his instantaneous arousal.
“I’ll call when we’re done here,” Josh promised. “I’ll pull Tate
in, see where he was this morning, how pissed he really is.”
Sarah lowered her head. She couldn’t believe Mark would do this. Despite the anger he had shown days ago, this just wasn’t like him.
“Come on.” Brock led her back to the jeep, opening the door for her and helping her inside.
Sarah sat still, watching him pull the seat belt across, leaning over to buckle it. He was hard, vibrating with arousal.
“Brock?” She whispered his name.
Slow, hesitant, he raised his head, his eyes meeting hers. She saw his fight to contain his pleasure, his anticipation.
“Yeah, Sarah?” he whispered back.
“Only you, Brock.” She fought her fear. She didn’t want him expecting what she couldn’t give. She didn’t want recriminations later.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes for a brief instant. She watched him fight it back, watched the smile that finally tipped his lips.
“Whatever you want, Sarah,” he promised her. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She took a deep breath, nodding sharply at his promise. She could ask no more of him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sarah hung her new clothes in Brock’s closet. Filmy dresses and soft skirt outfits for the most part. She put new underclothes in a drawer in his dresser and placed several pairs of shoes in the shoe port at the end of the large walk-in closet. She wore one of the new outfits. His begging had been pathetic. The skirt was filmy, soft and short. The sleeveless top she wore with it didn’t accommodate her bra. Thankfully, her breasts weren’t too large and they were firm and full.
She sighed deeply, staring around the masculine room with its heavy, dark furniture and the large four-poster bed. There was a sitting area at the far side of the large room. A couch, chair and corner entertainment center with a large television set in it. It lacked no comforts. The whole house lacked for no comforts, from what she had seen.
Large, airy, with high ceilings and wide windows, the house was beautifully arranged and comfortable. The bit Brock had showed her after their arrival left her gaping. The unassuming façade of the house did little to prepare a visitor for the beauty inside.
“Everything okay?” Brock stood in the doorway, lounging comfortably against the frame as he watched her.
He was aroused. He stayed aroused. Sarah wondered if other men were as virile, as sexual as Brock August. If they were, she hadn’t heard of them.
“Yeah.” She closed the closet door, facing him fully. “Everything’s put away. But I don’t intend to be here that long, Brock.”
“At least until it’s safe.” Determination thickened his voice.
Sarah sighed. She knew coming here would be a mistake. She stood still, watching him straighten from the doorway. He stepped into the room, closing the door carefully behind him. She felt her heart speed up in excitement. He hadn’t touched her all day and she knew from the look on his face that touching her now filled his mind.
She licked her lips nervously. He always made her nervous, made her too aware of her body, her femininity. Her thighs tensed, the bare flesh of her cunt becoming slick and warm within seconds. The quickening of her blood in her veins, the beat of her heart, she could feel it all in the empty portal awaiting him.
“You look good in that skirt, Sarah,” he whispered, not touching her, merely watching her.
He stepped close to her, almost touching, the warmth of his body searing her. Sarah swallowed, cleared her throat, her eyes trained on his hands. He unbuttoned his shirt with careful deliberation before shrugging it from his shoulders. He tossed it carelessly to the padded stool at the end of the bed.
She breathed in hard when his fingers went to the buttons of his jeans. They were dealt with efficiently, leaving the front open, the hard flesh of his cock rising from between the parted fabric.
Sarah felt her breath slow, her heart beat harsh and heavy in her chest. She laid her hand against the taut flesh of his abdomen, staring into his eyes as he watched her intently.
“I want you in my mouth,” she told him, her voice soft, the husky, needy sound surprising her.
His cheeks flushed with a dull, dark red. His eyes darkened as his chest heaved hard.
“I want to be in your mouth,” he told her, his head lowering until his lips could caress the bare skin of her neck. “I want your hot little mouth wrapped around me, your tongue stroking me.”
Sarah almost released the whimper building in her throat.
She gripped the waist of his jeans, pushing them down as she lowered her body. On her knees before him, she looked up, seeing the savage, naked need reflected on his face. His cock strained toward her, heavy and hard, the thick head pulsing, releasing a small pearl of liquid. That droplet tempted her, made her hunger for more.
Gripping the base in her hands, she leaned forward, her tongue running over the broad tip, licking the pearly drop of liquid that collected there. Brock groaned deep, his hands going to her hair to pull her forward. Sarah enveloped the first few inches, groaning as he filled her mouth. Hot, steel-hard, he pushed into her mouth with a slow, measured thrust, until she could take no more.
Sarah raised her eyes, watching him, loving the vulnerable pleasure she saw reflected in his expression. He watched her, his gaze never leaving hers. His hands tightened in her hair. She whimpered, feeling the tiny bursts of the tugging sensation, almost pain, heightening her pleasure.
“Your mouth feels so good, Sarah.” He pulled back, then eased into her mouth once again. Each thrust, slow, measured, as his breath sawed from his chest. “Tight and hot, wet and silky; watching your lips part for my cock makes me crazy to take you.”
The husky voiced words had the flesh between her thighs weeping, clenching tight in agonized need. Her body heated, flushing as she drew him deeper, suckling at his flesh hungrily. The soft slurping sound filled the room as she sucked the hot shaft, her hands running over the base, cupping his scrotum, her nails scraping sensitive skin to the tune of his rough, sensual growls.
“Enough. I want to come in your tight little cunt. I won’t let you drain me with that soft mouth of yours.” He pulled away from her, shedding his jeans in a quick, controlled movement before reaching down and drawing her to her feet. “God, Sarah, I’ve waited all day to eat your sweet pussy.”
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, tingle
d. 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.
“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.