Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Natalie Acres Read Free Book Online Page B

convulsions.
    Mae would want a death of dignity. Jordie Anne felt it would be best if she left before her old friend began showing signs and symptoms of the poison’s performance.
    She sighed. With friends like herself, no one needed enemies.
    “Are you there, baby?”
    “Yes, hon,” she replied. “I’m just busy at the moment.”
    “Want me to call you back?”
    “No, no, now is good,” she said, hurriedly gathering her things while tossing various items of clothing into a large piece of luggage she’d found in Mae’s attic.
    “So what have you done this morning? Anything interesting?”
    Son of a bitch . He probably expected her to say she’d spent most of the early hours thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy, all in his honor, with his name on her lips. “I worked a few hours. I had to open this morning. We unpacked a pallet of house-training supplies for pets. You know, potty pads, kitty-litter boxes, and such.”
    How was that for painting a glamorous sexual image?
    “Oh,” he muttered, sounding disappointed. “Well, how’s the job? Do you enjoy it? Do you like the people you work with?”
    “I work in a surplus store, Mitch. How do you think I like it?”
    “I told you I can have the trustee send more money. You don’t have to work, honey.”
    “Mae won’t let me quit. She says it’s important to keep busy, stay occupied.”
    “She’s right, you know, but that doesn’t mean you should work somewhere you don’t like. There are other jobs.”
    “In this economy? Are you kidding?”
    “It can’t be that bad.”
    “The job or the economy?” she asked, rushing into the bathroom. She grabbed her toiletry items, shoved a few of them in a cosmetics bag, and returned to the bedroom.
    Mitch laughed. “I guess both.”
    “Yes to each,” she said, tossing the small leather satchel into the suitcase. “You’ll see when you’re released, Mitch. The living conditions out here are worse than you can imagine. It’s bad on the outside, Mitch.”
    “Jordie, honey, you weren’t in prison. I don’t want you talking like you were. You aren’t ‘on the outside’ of anything. You’re the center of my world. Don’t you ever forget how much you mean to me.”
    “And what about Trixie? Was she the center of your world?”
    The line went silent.
    Jordie Anne zipped the large bag and dragged the bulky object to the floor. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she stalked to the dresser and stared into the looking glass. “Mitch, I want an answer. Was Trixie important to you?” She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. She flinched as she noticed the evil stream of malice and disdain pouring from her wicked expression. Was this really who she’d become?
    She tilted her head, studying Mae’s room located across the hall. Mae appeared to be writhing in pain, moaning as she rolled from one side to the other. She was sprawled across her mattress, muttering and whining, probably begging for help.
    Yes, indeed. This was who she was, what she’d longed to become. “Mitch, I’m waiting for an answer!”
    “We’ve talked about this before.”
    “Damn it to hell! I want to hear you say it again. Tell me how you felt about her!”
    “Why do you want to do this?”
    “Because you need to know you can’t love two women!”
    “Well, I’m sorry if that hurts you, but yes, Jordie, I loved Trixie. Very much. I loved two women. If that damns me in your eyes, I hate that, but one thing I’ll never do is lie to you.”
    Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You should’ve lied to me, Mitch. A fib might have saved your little whore’s life!”

    * * * *
     
    “So how about it, Ansley? Do you fuck for sport?” Tristan asked after agonizing minutes of silence.
    She’d give him an A for directness. He’d shuffled a few boxes and pretended to busy himself counting stock, but when he stopped moving around, he looked her in the eye and aimed below the belt, right smack-dab between her intimate