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“I may have,” Kemper admitted.
“Trouble in paradise already?” Kit asked. “And here I thought the two of you would be headed for the altar by now.”
“She wants to spank me.”
“Hmm,” Kit said, pouring a glass of water. He took a sip, but the drink quickly turned into a gulp as he drained the glass and returned to the pitcher. “You’re not thinking about that, are you?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well, are you?”
“Hell no.”
“Good, because you know…Holly ain’t right upstairs,” Kit informed him, pointing to his forehead.
“You thought she had plenty of brains until you heard she may have used her body, not to mention her talents, to earn a living.”
“I can’t have her mothering my children until she shares her past and opens up to me like a true sub should,” Kit said, returning the pitcher to the buffet.
About that time, Kemper heard Holly clear her throat from the doorway. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Oh God, the forthcoming confrontation wouldn’t be pretty.
Holly marched over to Kit, reached for the crystal pitcher, and dumped the entire contents over his head. Then she said, “For the record, I’m not your submissive.” She held her head high and pointed to her neck. “If you’ll notice, there isn’t a collar here.”
“There should be,” Kit grumbled, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes.
Holly waved her finger in front of him. “In case you’re wondering. I’m not a slut. As you know, the word implies a woman fucks for free and gives head for pleasure.”
“I never said—”
“Excuse me,” she interrupted him. “I have the floor.” She shot him a fake smile. “A whore, on the other hand, screws and sucks for a negotiated fee. Mine, as you might imagine, was very high. Only those men with a hefty bankroll took a flip across my bed if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sure,” Kit said, snatching a cloth napkin from a placemat.
Kemper was actually impressed. Somehow his brother managed to keep his hands from attaching to Holly’s neck. Then again, it took him a minute to blink away the ice chips dangling from his eyelashes. Poor guy may have gone into shock.
“As for mothering your children, I wouldn’t give you a son or a daughter if you paid me.” She ran her hands over her phenomenal curves, careful to drag her fingers across every inch. “I can’t mess up what I’ve spent years perfecting.”
“Really?”
“It’s a fact.”
Kemper didn’t miss the way Holly trembled as she argued her reasons for avoiding pregnancy. She wasn’t telling them the whole truth. She was furious and perhaps wanted to kick Kit where he’d feel it most—right below the belt and smack dab in the center of his heart.
“Well, Miss Perfect. We’ll see about that,” Kit said, grabbing her by the arm. “Kemper, come on. We’ve been pussy whipped since Holly arrived here. It’s time to show her the basement.
“Maybe after a tour downstairs, she’ll understand why we’re not exactly the kind of cowboys a woman can abuse for her own pleasure. Miss Holly needs to know why we don’t take kindly to having a crop snapped across our balls.”
Chapter Five
Holly twirled a curl around her forefinger. Squinting, she tried to see her way through the dim lighting and discovered, as expected, the tucked-away dungeon was one hell of a place. No wonder the women in town used to talk about Kit and Kemper.
After she’d moved there, she’d quickly been introduced to the gals around town. Once the word was out and she wore the title of the Keesling girlfriend, the stories ran rampant.
Apparently, good times were once enjoyed by all. In the beginning, the women came out of the woodwork. They sometimes discussed a friend of a friend who knew something about the Keesling men. Most of them, however, couldn’t keep the personal memories from stamping their permanent place in their hooded eyes.
The Keesling men left a trail of broken hearts.
And to think Kit Keesling judged her? Humph, he was a ladies’ man back in the day. One look around their playground and she was certain of what activities he’d most enjoyed. Damn shame he hadn’t thought to show her their basement long before now. What had he been waiting on?
