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  Cowboy Boots 6

  Cowboy Boots and Uncensored Behavior

  The enemy is attacking from all sides.

  Maria Rodriquez shadows the Longhorn division. As a trained operative, she handles destruction at a distance, but she doesn’t know the devastation of scrubbing blood off hands that just won’t come clean.

  One adversary is down, but another one is waiting to strike.

  Scott Zelmore has waited years to reconnect with Maria and jumps at an opportunity to help the Longhorn division even an old score. On a mission destined to change his life, Scott teams up with operatives Drake Davenport and Cade Livingston in an effort to eliminate a South Texas gang.

  When the smoke clears, only their love for one another will stand the test of time.

  A formidable underground unit enemy emerges as soon as the operatives think they’re in the clear. Explosive consequences leave the underground unit looking for more revenge than ever before and in the midst of personal trials and collective struggles, a new love forms.

  Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense

  Length: 72,002 words

  COWBOY BOOTS AND UNCENSORED BEHAVIOR

  Cowboy Boots 6

  Natalie Acres

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  COWBOY BOOTS AND UNCENSORED BEHAVIOR

  Copyright © 2013 by Natalie Acres

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-733-5

  First E-book Publication: October 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Cowboy Boots and Uncensored Behavior by Natalie Acres from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Natalie Acres’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Acres’s right to earn a living from her work.

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  DEDICATION

  To Mary at Mary’s Ménage Whispers.

  You somehow know when to provide that extra motivation that drives a writer back into the throes of their story. Thank you for your friendship and support. Thank you for believing in this series and offering encouragement.

  You’re much appreciated!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue One

  Prologue Two

  Prologue Three

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  COWBOY BOOTS AND UNCENSORED BEHAVIOR

  Cowboy Boots 6

  NATALIE ACRES

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue One

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  He moved over her like he was late for the party and in a hurry to see what he’d missed. His mouth traveled. His hands wandered. He might have missed the meal, but he wasn’t about to leave without indulging in dessert.

  Scott had spent the last four hours trying to make up for his delayed arrival, but as their time together drew to a close, he realized one important factor—he was the famished partner. He was the one still horny as hell.

  When it came to loving Maria, one kiss left him hungry for another. One minute between her legs and he was a ruined man, a man who let himself imagine a better life, a life with children and family.

  A man who didn’t have the right to think about a future with a woman.

  “Slow down, Scott,” Maria crooned, arching her neck. Her body followed suit and she clearly braced for impalement, practically cried out for a deeper penetration.

  He locked his arm around her waist and brought her to him, smothering her full breasts with ravenous kisses. He peppered every inch of her flesh with a sultry peck.

  He had a specific goal as he trailed up and down her silken flesh. Once he left her, she’d remember where he’d been, where he’d placed each bruising kiss.

  Time ticked away, marching off like a tired soldier in the middle of a cold winter’s night, dragging on and pushing forward with haunting steps.


  Scott was all too aware of each passing minute. He glanced at the digital clock beside them and acknowledged the hour. His plane would leave in ninety minutes, but there was still time to enjoy the woman who held his heart. He could still savor the here and now.

  “Make love to me, Scott. Once more. Just once more.”

  He slammed inside her and willed himself back. He pulled out, leaving the tip to pulse between her folds. Now, he stared into her eyes and bit back the urge to tell her how much he loved her.

  “Don’t be easy, Scott.” Maria rubbed her tongue across those full lips and her eyelashes fluttered as he pressed into her again, wedging his cock deep inside her passage, pushing his dick through her swollen, intimate lips until he was buried inside her pussy.

  He worked his hips from left to right. He threaded their fingers together and shoved her arms high above her shoulders, kissing one full breast and then the other.

  Her unmanageable coal-black hair fanned around her face, making her look like a dark angel, his angel, his woman. He admired her then and his breath caught in his chest as he pounded her sweet pussy, seizing another lasting minute, just another second or two. Without it, he was afraid he wouldn’t survive. He wouldn’t breathe again. He wouldn’t find the will to say good-bye unless he left her bed sated and complete.

  “Scott!” she screamed, locking her legs around his hips. “More. Oh God, yes. Right there!”

  Her shattered cries drove him, but when her pussy clamped down on his cock, squeezing tighter around his shaft, he called out her name and hammered forward. He took one final satisfying ride with his sweet Maria.

  Their bodies came together like a force of nature embracing a storm, whipping one way and then another. It was as if they’d climbed a new range of breathtaking mountains, pushing forward so they could reach another level of amazing new heights. They thrashed about, fucking like crazy as she begged him to ride it out and make their loving last and last.

  Um, yes. This was just fucking spectacular. Ah God yes, Maria was rapture. She was his only drug.

  Minutes later, he rolled over and pulled her against him. They cuddled in silence and he thought of how he wanted to propose, how he longed to tell her how much he loved her.

  Shaking off the powerful urge to leave the bed and drop down on one knee, he kissed her forehead and headed for the shower. After he bathed, dressed, and draped his weapons from chest to thigh, he tucked a Glock in his belt and returned to her side. “That was some send-off.”

  “I want you to think of me,” she whispered, raking her fingernail across his denim-clad thigh.

  “Always.” He took a deep breath and shook off another unsettling urge. He needed a commitment. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but feared what his confession would do to her if something ever happened to him.

  For now, what they shared was enough. His job was dangerous. Relationships only complicated an operative’s life.

  “I have something I need to tell you.” Maria propped herself up on a layer of pillows. She pulled the white sheet across her voluptuous chest and Scott’s breath caught in his lungs. “When a woman tells you they need to talk, Scott, you look at their eyes, not their breasts.”

  “I don’t know about all that.” Scott moistened his lips. “I’ve had some intimate conversations with those two.”

  She gave him a playful push. “I’m serious, Scott. We need to talk.”

  He glanced at the clock. Damn it. He had about five minutes to spare. Then again, flying by private jet had its advantages.

  “I’m listening.” He curved his arm over her hip and studied those dark milk-chocolate-colored eyes. Those eyes saw through him. They healed all pain.

  “I’ve talked to Brock Donovan.”

  On second thought, they housed deception. Trickery could easily hide there.

  Talk about souring the mood. He shook off his initial shock. “I know I didn’t just hear you say Brock Donovan’s name.”

  “I didn’t stutter or whisper.” She grabbed hold of his wrist. “I told you I wanted to train under the best. You’ve always known what I want to do with my life.”

  “And I explained to you—and the authority—that you were not working for the Unit.” He freed himself from her grip, rose to his feet and marched to the dresser. He grabbed his wallet and tucked it in his hip pocket. He then picked up his watch and wrapped it around his wrist. “I won’t change my mind, Maria.”

  He sensed the anger in the air before he lifted his gaze to hers. The fury resonated in her expression.

  “You talked to the authority and told them not to work with me?”

  “Yes I did.”

  “You told Brock Donovan not to hire me?”

  “Damn right.” He was determined to stand his ground. “And I didn’t stutter either, baby.”

  “Son of a bitch,” she whispered.

  “Watch it.”

  A heart-wrenching laugh fell to the room. There wasn’t any cause for doubt. The woman was pissed. She threw aside the comforter and leapt from the bed. Grabbing her clothes from a nearby chair, she bit out, “You should go.”

  “Maria, I’m not trying to—”

  “You are trying to control me. You’ve tried to control me since we first met, but do I have anything to keep me warm at night? No!”

  “Maria, I’ve explained—” He moved closer, attempting to gather her in his arms. “Baby, I’ve told you why I don’t want you working for the Underground Unit. I explained to you the sacrifices the operatives make, the dangers we face. I don’t want that for you.”

  “I knew all about those sacrifices before I met with Donovan! Those sacrifices were already mine to own because I was connected to you!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned on him like a rebounding storm, full of turbulent consequences. “And guess what, darling?

  “I met with Donovan.” She lifted her brows. “Thank God he doesn’t listen to his subordinates. He saw potential in me and because of that, I walked right out of the academy and straight into the authority’s awaiting arms.”

  Prologue Two

  Dallas, Texas—Two Years Later

  “Damn it! We’re surrounded!” Drake cried out, diving behind a row of rusty barrels. “It’s bad out there.”

  Manny Mancini peered around a stack of old crates, leering at his teammates. “I didn’t expect light lunch and a friendly welcome. Did you?”

  “What do you got over there?” Drake bit out, not at all in the mood for Manny’s light sense of humor.

  “I could tell you what we don’t have a lot easier than I could tell you what we’re packing.”

  “Fuck, Mancini!” Drake reloaded his weapons and stayed low. “Give me something. Damn it!”

  Phillip was at his right, waving away cobwebs before adjusting the sights on that old military rifle he should’ve retired months ago. “Backup?”

  “Nope,” Manny replied like it didn’t make a damn to him. The youngest on this operation, Mancini was accustomed to working solo. He and his sidekicks, Drew Remington and Scott Zelmore, were more or less ruined for field operations. They were renegades to the extreme. Damn rogues with no real value of life. Death was inevitable, a certainty they’d witnessed far too often.

  Manny had been an executioner, a mercenary of sorts. He’d met his own fate by torture just enough to behave as if he were invincible. Working in remote areas and third world countries most of the time, Manny didn’t have a grip on reality yet. He possessed no fear. He was one of the Underground Unit’s dual operatives because he was just that good at dodging death and taking the lives of those destined to die by his hand.

  “We needed a shadow for this operation.” Phillip stood long enough to fire off a round of shots. When Phillip ducked, he looked as if he’d spotted a ghost.

  “What did you see, Phillip?” Manny asked before he pivoted and took out three men and cleared the path behind him.

  “A wall of crazies,” Phillip informed him. “We ain’t walkin’ out o
f here anytime soon.”

  “A wall, huh?” Manny laughed. “Sounds like my kind of party. At least I don’t have to look for targets.” He slapped Drake on the shoulder. “See you on the other side of another Longhorn victory, baby!”

  “Fucking rats!” High pitched squeals followed the enemy’s outburst as scavenging critters scurried to a nearby palate of old boards, seeking refuge from the disturbance. A nearby crate toppled over and dusty brown bottles crashed to the floor. The containers shattered and shards of glass slid across the concrete floor, traveling with the spilled beer.

  A minute later, Manny disappeared into the heart of the warehouse. Seconds later, screeching yells reverberated through the building. Numerous shots were fired. Somewhere in the distance, a door opened and slammed. A sudden breeze brought with it the stench of garbage mixed with booze and food, animal waste, and death.

  “Leave it to Manny to start the next world war,” Drake muttered, trying to cover him but finding the task far too complicated. They were on the lower level and their enemies perched in the rafters and waited in the shadows. In situations like these, it was tough enough to fight their way out one by one, let alone provide diversions for their teammates.

  “Get down!” Cade Livingston bellowed.

  His warning came too late.

  Weapons were drawn around them. Gunfire filled the dilapidated warehouse. Screams resounded. Cursing ricocheted off the metal building and explosions in the distance told harrowing tales of an outcome no one had expected.

  “We’re surrounded, man,” Drake said.

  “No shit.” Phillip slumped against a partition, taking ragged breaths. Drake peered around the limited protection they still had left. When he shifted his weight, his shoulder bumped against a tower of boxes and the mildewed containers tumbled down, leaving them susceptible to exposure.