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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.
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?”
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.
