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breasts. She clutched her undergarments like a lifeline. “I came to you for a favor.” Damn, she hated the trembling in her voice.
    “And we’ve got two hard cocks ready to grant your favor,” Deke assured. “You scratch our backs, we’ll scratch yours. Get on the table.”
    “No. I came to you because I thought”—she shook her head—“You were always a bastard to me when you worked for Dad, always aloof. But you never seemed heartless and mercenary. Was I ever wrong.”
    Luc stepped forward. “Kimber—”
    “Stay there!” She retreated. “He treated me like a worthless whore, and you were going to let him.”
    “I—”

    Shayla Black Decadent

    “You offered yourself like one,” Deke broke in. “What did you expect?”
    “Go to hell!” She turned her back on them and thrust her bra and thong in her pocket.
    “I’m there, kitten. I’m so hard, I’m losing blood in the rest of my body. You sure you don’t want to stay and help me out?”
    The nerve of the unbelievable asshole! “You’ve got a palm and five fingers. Figure it out.”
    She marched to the front door. The sound of the door slamming reverberated into the peaceful East Texas afternoon until she laid rubber on the road and sped away.
    #
    35
    “Did you find her?” Luc asked, his annoyance coming through loud and clear.
    Damn the perfect digital cell phone signal.
    In the old analog days, he could have pretended he hadn’t heard. “Yeah.” Deke had found Kimber, all right. And just like she had at seventeen, she’d tied his gut up in knots so crazy an Eagle Scout with Houdini ancestry couldn’t get them undone.
    “You’re going to apologize for scaring her off and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble,” Luc reminded.
    Deke didn’t want to. He didn’t. But as Luc had rationally pointed out, scaring the crap out of Kimber was only a temporary solution to a problem that wasn’t going to just go away because he wanted it to. Kimber was too tenacious to simply give up. She’d track someone else down to help her in her quest to catch Jesse McCall—

    Shayla Black Decadent someone who, at best, would cause her discomfort because they didn’t know what the hell they were doing. At worst, they would take total advantage of her and hurt her.
    The Colonel would kill Deke if anything happened to her because he’d had his dick in a knot. Her old man was scary, too. Tough SOB. Mean when he needed to be.
    Not that he’d condone Deke and Luc introducing his baby to the joys of anal sex…but somehow he figured the Colonel would pick that over Kimber picking up a very minor acquaintance in a bar and doing— he couldn’t think about what she might do with two other guys. He gripped the thin wooden table in front of him and didn’t let go until he heard it crack.
    But it wasn’t his old boss who motivated him now. It was Kimber herself. He’d had vivid fantasies about her once upon a time, great for jacking off to. But reality was far stronger, like comparing a gust to a category-five hurricane. She’d tasted 36
    like sugary innocence. Sweet in his mouth. So damn perfect. Bright in his arms, like a summer day. She was white heat and soft skin and…
    God, listen to him. Fucking pathetic, going on about the girl like he was Keats or something. Hell.
    One fact he couldn’t escape, however: Kimber was the sole temptation that, as much as he hated to admit it, might be stronger than his self-control. He should be pushing her away as fast as he could, before he swallowed her whole, like a snake does its prey.
    Before he destroyed her. But she wasn’t going to give up her quest, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else tutor her. Blowing out a breath with a short, ugly curse, Deke lifted the longneck to his mouth and swallowed. And he stared.
    Kimber was currently on the dance floor at Adam Catrell’s bar, The Hang Out, swaying her sweet hips to a Shakira song about that very part of her anatomy. With Shayla Black Decadent thighs