Brooke, Leah - Raw Desire [Desire, Oklahoma 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 8

  “No. I want both of you to leave. I’m fine. If you could just contact me when you know how much it’ll cost to repair my truck, I’d appreciate it. When I come out of the bathroom, I want both of you gone. If you’re still here, I’m calling the sheriff.”

  Brushing past Dillon, she went into the bathroom, relieved that neither one of them tried to stop her.

  As she started the shower, she grimaced when she heard Ryder’s voice raised in anger and hoped they would be gone by the time she got out.

  Damn it, she’d been so sure that Dillon would be perfect for her until he showed her that other side of him. If she couldn’t even please Danny, she’d never be able to handle a man like that.

  She’d also seen the look on his face when he saw the scar on her forehead and could only imagine how he would react when he saw the rest. Scarred and fat, her body disgusted her, but as soon as she lost more weight, she could regain her confidence and be back to her old self again.

  Back to the person she’d been before Danny came into her life.

  On that depressing thought, she looked over her shoulder to double-check that she’d locked the door, unbelted her robe, letting it fall to the floor, and stepped into the shower, all without once glancing in the mirror.

  She took her time, shaking off the last of her lethargy and letting the warm water wash away the tension of the day.

  Everything would turn out just fine. She’d made the decision to start a new life, and she wouldn’t let something as insignificant as a lack of money hold her back.

  As soon as this mess with Danny was over, she could start fresh.

  She would find a job. She would lose weight, and she would become so good in bed that men wouldn’t even pay attention to her hideous scar.

  As she turned off the shower, she listened for any sound coming from the other side of the door. Hearing nothing, she started to hurry, realizing they must have gone to the restaurant to get food.

  She reached for one of the fluffy towels folded neatly on the shelf and hurriedly began to dry off, still thinking about her money problem as she threw on jeans and a sweater, not taking the time to go back into the room to get the bra she’d forgotten.

  She brushed her teeth, raced through putting on mascara and combing her wet hair back before cautiously opening the bathroom door. Looking around, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no sign of either one of them and hurried into the room, pleased that neither her back nor her hip protested at all. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse, determined to forget all about Dillon and Ryder and enjoy the evening ahead.

  A Friday night at the local bar with free drinks sounded like fun, and she hadn’t done anything just for fun in a long time. Of course it would be lonely, but she hoped that she’d be able to meet another man as gentle as she’d first thought Dillon to be.

  Someone tender and sweet to have an affair with before she left again.

  Reaching for the doorknob, she stopped as the implications of what Danny said earlier hit her. What if there was already a warrant out for her arrest? What if the prosecutor no longer believed her, or what if he’d been bribed or threatened by Danny’s friends and family?

  Okay, now she really needed that beer. Once she escaped from Dillon and Ryder, she’d sit down to think and figure out what to do. Maybe she should just leave town as soon as they fixed her truck and—no. She had to find out if Danny had already filed charges against her, or she’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

  Every time she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, it did.

  As she left the room and went down the hall, the delicious smells and the sound of low conversation and soft laughter momentarily startled her. She’d forgotten that she had to pass the restaurant on the way out.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her just how long it had been since she’d eaten, and she forced herself to ignore it. The peanuts or pretzels at the bar would have to be enough for tonight.

  To her surprise, the hostess came from around the small counter and approached, moving to stand in front of Alison and effectively blocking her escape. “Good evening, Miss Bennett. I thought Dillon said the dinner order was to go. I’ll just let him know you’re here.”

  Alison smiled politely and started to back away, intending to work her way around the woman. “No, thank you. I’ll just—”

  She backed hard into a wall of muscle, but before she fell, two strong arms came around her. Resigned, she turned to look up into Dillon’s smiling face, shivering when the fingers that tucked her hair behind her ear lingered and trailed down her neck.

  “Good. Your color’s a little better. Now you just need something to eat. Your hair’s still damp. You didn’t plan to go out in the cold with it that way, did you?”

  Alison forced a smile as the hostess excused herself, waiting until she’d gone before pushing against Dillon’s chest. “I keep telling you, what I do is none of your business! Let go of me.”

  He’d caught her hand against his chest and, with the other, drew her closer. “I’m making it my business. Something tells me you’re even more fragile than I first thought.”

  Yanking her hand away, she stepped back, relieved that he’d let her. “I’m not fragile at all. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me.” Each day she felt stronger than the day before and more determined than ever to get her life back on track. She was not fragile.

  A tall, dark man approached, his friendly smile making her heart skip a beat. “Hello, Miss Bennett. I’m Brandon Weston, one of the owners. I see Dillon got to you first.”

  He sent a smile over her shoulder at Dillon before winking at her. “Probably afraid you’d take one look at me and send him packing. Are you feeling any better?”

  Alison blinked, not sure she’d heard him right. “Excuse me?”

  Frowning, he gestured for her to precede him into the restaurant, and she responded to the authority in the gesture without thinking. “Ethan told me that Dillon was worried when you didn’t answer your door. He let Dillon in to check on you. Ethan and I own the hotel together.”

  Shaking her head, she grimaced, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. “I didn’t even get a chance to find out how he got in my room. There won’t be any need for that in the future.”

  Brandon raised a brow at that, his amusement apparent in his glance at Dillon. “I’ll make a note.”

  Slowing her steps, she looked around, surprised at the number of people filling the restaurant and trying to keep her eyes from the darkly handsome hotel owner. He had kind eyes, tender, but with a trace of wickedness that she found enormously exciting.

  “I didn’t realize you’d be so busy, especially for such a small town. I really didn’t want a big meal. I was thinking about getting a sandwich or something.”

  He smiled, his eyes lighting with mischief. “This place is usually busy on the weekends, especially when the clubs are having seminars. It’s a real popular town in some circles.”

  She didn’t ask, afraid she didn’t want to know what he meant.

  She caught the grin he shot Dillon before he touched her arm to turn her down a row of tables, a touch that felt warm and …nice, but didn’t give her the shivers Dillon and Ryder’s did.

  Damn it.

  He shrugged at her polite smile, inclining his head.

  “We have sandwiches here, too, if you prefer, but after what Dillon told me, I’d think you’d need something a little more substantial.”

  Noticing the number of tables where one woman sat with more than one man, she thought back to the trio she’d seen with the baby this afternoon. Trying not to stare, she followed Brandon, her eyes widening when she saw Ryder stand as they approached a table he apparently occupied.

  Dillon pulled out a chair. “Thanks, Brandon. Now that you’ve assured yourself that your guest is safe with us, I think we can take it from here.”

  Avoiding Ryder’s gaze, and taken aback at the anger under Dillon’s sardon
ic tone, Alison turned to Brandon and shook her head. “I’d prefer to eat alone.”

  He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. There aren’t any other tables available.”

  Aware of the attention she was getting, she pointed to three that sat empty nearby. “What about one of those?”

  Brandon shrugged, not quite hiding a smile. “They’re reserved. Won’t you have a seat?”

  Dillon held out her chair for her, standing behind it and holding out his hand. “We just want to have a nice dinner with you. No pressure.”

  Ryder’s eyes narrowed. “Look at it this way. If we pay for your dinner, it leaves more money for you to pay for your truck repair.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that several people looked their way in amusement, a few of the men even chuckling. “What’s this dinner going to cost me?”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned toward Dillon. “If this is about my earlier…lapse, just remember that I was under the influence of prescription medication.”

  Dillon inclined his head, his lips thinning. “I figured that would be your excuse. Once you’ve got that all out of your system, I’ll have to prove differently. Tonight, however, all we expect from you is conversation. Now please sit down before I sit you down.”

  The steel in his otherwise polite tone convinced her that he meant it.

  Her stomach rumbled, which was embarrassing enough without Ryder’s knowing smile.

  “Fine.” Ignoring Ryder, she plopped down into her chair, stiffening immediately in anticipation of shooting pain.

  When none came, she smiled broadly in relief, murmuring her thanks and accepting the menu from Brandon.

  She couldn’t resist wiggling in her chair, delighted that she could move so easily. Her hip didn’t even hurt.

  Opening the menu, she lifted it high enough to block Ryder’s glower and turned to Dillon.

  “Brandon told me that you’d been worried about me when I didn’t answer the door. I appreciate your concern, but sometimes I sleep hard. There’s no need to worry, and there won’t be any need for you to barge into my room again.”

  Dillon lifted a brow. “Sleep hard? Is that what you call it when those pills knock you out? Why do you take them? Is it really for pain or are you doing it for kicks?”

  Initially taken aback at his disapproving tone, she stiffened, about to jump up from the table and leave. The concern in his eyes, however, stopped her. Except for the episode right before he left her room earlier, he’d been nothing but solicitous and kind.

  If Ryder had been the one to ask the question, she probably would have told him that it wasn’t any of his business, but Dillon’s warmth touched something inside her, and she found herself answering him.

  “I had an accident about five months ago. I guess I drove too much today. In case you haven’t noticed yet, the shocks on my truck are shot and it made my back sore.”

  Dillon frowned. “Your back?”

  Ryder reached across and plucked the menu separating them from her hand and dropped in onto the table. “Those shocks are ridiculous. I noticed a lot of other things wrong with that truck, too—including the tires. They’re not even safe to drive on. I’m surprised Ace didn’t give you a ticket for it. He must be getting soft. Whoever’s supposed to be taking care of you certainly isn’t doing his job.”

  Bristling at his arrogance, Alison folded her arms in front of her, leaned forward, and smiled sarcastically. “Congratulations. You’ve won the award for saying the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  Ryder leaned forward, too, getting right in her face, his beautiful green eyes glittering with anger. “You’re not driving it again without new tires. I won’t allow it.”

  Shaking her head, she sighed and picked up her menu again. “I stand corrected.”

  Hiding a smile at his low curse, she slid a glance sideways as Dillon buttered a roll and stuck it on her bread plate. Purposely looking away from it, she sighed. “No bread or butter for me.”

  Dillon ignored that and started buttering another roll. “What kind of accident?”

  Aware of Ryder’s intense scrutiny, she took the roll from her plate and placed in on Dillon’s. “Car accident. I think I’ll have the chef salad.”

  Closing the menu, she put it aside and looked up at Ryder. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

  Ryder smiled coldly, his eyes sharp. “You’re a real looker. I’m sure you’re used to being stared at. Your nipples are poking at the front of your sweater, so don’t tell me you don’t like me staring. You don’t think I’m sitting here wondering how they would feel on my tongue? You just ooze sex, lady, and you know it.”

  She choked on the water she’d been sipping and looked around to see that several of the diners looked their way and smiled. Uncomfortable being the center of attention, she averted her face, her cheeks burning.

  Oozed sex? What the hell did that mean?

  Setting her glass down, she automatically glanced at Dillon, comforted to see that he glared at his friend. Drawing a deep breath, she met Ryder’s gaze. “Somehow that didn’t sound like a compliment.”

  Ryder took a sip of his beer, saluting her with the glass. “Smart, too.”

  “That’s enough, Ryder.”

  Alison blinked at the underlying steel in Dillon’s tone and lowered her gaze. The hard edge sent a chill through her, reminding her a little too much of Danny.

  Uneasy now, she started to rise. “I think I’ll—”

  Dillon touched her hand. “Sit down, Alison. Or I’ll put your ass back in the seat myself.”

  Unwilling to make a scene, Alison took her seat again, this time more gingerly than before, aware of Dillon’s unwavering scrutiny.

  The thought of what that kind of strength, determination, focus, and patience would be like in bed would probably keep her awake tonight.

  Looking up at Dillon again, she twisted the napkin she held in her lap, trembling with the need to find out. The soft sweater she wore brushed against her nipples every time she moved, making them even more sensitive. Wishing she’d taken the time to put on her bra, she shifted restlessly, pressing her thighs together against the tingling of her clit, but it didn’t help at all.

  Ryder grinned and sat back, apparently aware of her predicament. “My money’s on Dillon.”

  “Shut up, Ryder.” Dillon placed another buttered roll on her plate, his eyes daring her to refuse it.

  Fisting her hands on her lap, Alison snuck a glance at Dillon out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t like threats.”

  Dillon raised a hand to signal a waiter. “I don’t threaten. I stated a fact. I’m just trying to save you some embarrassment. If you try to get out of that chair, you won’t make it. Now how do you want your steak cooked?”

  “I don’t want a steak. Just a salad.”

  Dillon’s brows went up. “You’re a vegetarian?”

  Looking toward the bar area, she noticed three men deep in conversation, who smiled in their direction. Two of them looked enough alike to be brothers, and both stood well over six feet tall, as big and muscular as the sheriff.

  The other man, almost too handsome for words, had an air about him that was almost mesmerizing and a lean, muscular frame much like Ryder’s. As one of the taller men spoke, the too-handsome man shook his head, unsmiling, and turned away, looking almost relieved when two women came out of the ladies room and headed toward them.

  Both had the kind of beauty that made Alison feel just a little more insecure. As the two men turned and reached for the woman on the left, her face lit up, transforming her from beautiful to stunning.

  Watching them surreptitiously, Alison realized that the two men must share the woman, much like the threesome she’d seen earlier with the baby.

  As the other man reached for the woman on the right, she smiled, but even from this distance it looked forced. The man looked frustrated and preoccupied, but never stopped touching the woman. He kept an arm around her
waist as they walked, and once seated, he caressed her arm, her shoulder, her hand, almost as if he couldn’t bear to be parted.

  The woman leaned toward him several times, watching him closely as though searching for something in his expression.

  “Stop staring.”

  She whipped around, her face burning as she met Ryder’s angry gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that…I mean we saw those people today, and when I look around here, I see a lot of women with more than one man. Is it very common—oh my God! That’s why everyone’s smiling. They think we’re—oh, hell. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  When she shot to her feet, Dillon placed a firm hand on her arm to keep her from escaping. At her glare, he slid his chair a little closer to hers and bent toward her, keeping his voice low.

  “I warned you.”

  When several other diners turned in their direction, Alison sank back into her seat.

  “They think I’m sleeping with both of you.”

  Dillon inclined his head, waving away the waiter who approached. “Most of them are our friends and are curious about you and why we’re together. There are a lot of ménage relationships in Desire, and everyone’s hoping there’ll be several more.”

  Alison’s face burned even hotter. “What do you mean by everyone’s hoping there’ll be several more?”

  Dillon sat back in his chair and regarded her steadily, his body tense as though prepared to leap at her if she got up again. “Alison, the reason we live in this town is because we want what they have.” He inclined his head toward the table she’d been watching, taking her hand in his.

  “Jesse came to Desire last year to visit her sister, Nat, the other woman sitting there. Clay and Rio met her and fell hard for her.”

  Ryder grinned. “I remember the day they came into the shop to get Nat’s car fixed. Every time I so much as spoke to Jesse, they were ready to tear me apart. When I flirted with her, you could tell that both of them wanted to beat the hell out of me, but didn’t want to do it in front of Jesse. They stood between us so I couldn’t see her. Yeah, they had it bad.”