Triple Knockout (Make Mine A Menage Book 3) Page 13
“Why the fuck would I be turned on by Smash sucking you off in the ring?”
“Technically it was the locker room, but that isn’t what I meant. You’ve imagined doing it to me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He traced a fingertip down the silky happy trail leading to Beau’s boxers before reaching inside and closing his fingers around the thick girth of his dick. “Because this tells me otherwise.”
Beau jolted, choking on a strangled breath as his ab muscles tensed. Still, he didn’t immediately curse Van out or pull away.
He loosened his grip some and stroked Beau’s cock from root to crown with a lazy glide of his fingertips. A broken groan fell from Beau before he could stop himself. The sound sent a hot thrill sluicing through Van. “Do you lie awake at night thinking about me forcing you down to the mat and fucking your throat?”
Beau swallowed hard, his dick throbbing in Van’s grip. “No.”
“Liar. I’ll bet your hands are even cuffed. If you’ll recall, that’s what Al wanted me to do—restrain her while she sucked me off. Maybe I should have you both service me at the same time.”
Beau remained dead silent as his face went redder than the poinsettia plant sitting on the coffee table. Van chuckled. “Something tells me you’ve indulged in that fantasy too. Don’t blame ya a bit. Shit knows I’m probably gonna jack off to it more times than is healthy.” Unable to resist, he leaned in and bit the side of Beau’s neck. The action earned him a weak groan. He slid his hand lower and fondled Beau’s balls. “Or we can always make it a reality.”
A harsh breath shot from Beau. “Hell no. I’m not your fucking sub. And neither is she.”
“Yeah, about that...I think we should extend her contract.”
“That’s playing with fire, and you damn well know it.”
“Do you honestly believe last night was enough for any of us?” Van increased the pressure on Beau’s shaft when he refused to look him in the eye. Beau conceded to the mute summons with another groan and Van rewarded his compliance by pumping his swelling dick with a fluid glide of his fist. The resulting slippery sheen of precome that glossed his fingers threatened to derail his train of thought. Corralling his focus, he slowed the motion of his hand, giving the base of Beau’s dick a firm squeeze. “You saw how she responded to us. You felt the connection. And you damn well know the kind of chemistry the three of us have together comes around once in a lifetime.” He reinforced his statement with a little nip on Beau’s whiskered jaw.
Beau shivered. “And what the fuck do you intend to tell Eric? ‘Hey, man, remember my promise to watch over your sister? Well, you don’t mind me doing that while I’ve got her on her knees and my cock in her mouth, do ya?’ ”
“I was thinking of going a slightly subtler route,” Van countered dryly.
“Doesn’t matter. Regardless of how you phrase it, still gonna get the same outcome—Eric’s foot rammed up your ass.”
“I know he won’t be overjoyed about us being with Al. But we’re the best men for her in the long run.” Arrogant as the statement might sound, it was absolutely accurate. He’d sooner cut off his own arm than risk Allie’s safety. There was a high chance that after their evening together she wouldn’t be satisfied returning to vanilla sex. She might seek out a Dom. Most of the ones he knew were legit and trustworthy, but like any group, there were always a few sketchy apples in the bunch.
He and Beau needed to be practical about this. She was a grown woman, free to explore and experiment with her sexuality. But it was their responsibility do right by her and ensure she didn’t end up in a bad situation.
True, his motives weren’t entirely altruistic. He wanted Al, and he’d damn well bust the kneecaps of any Dom stupid enough to attempt horning in on his and Beau’s woman. But he knew with every fiber of his being that the three of them did belong together. He wasn’t above using every tactic he could to bring Beau around to the same line of thinking.
He made a snug circle of his fingers and dragged his hand upward, stopping just shy of the flanged crown of Beau’s cockhead. For someone who professed no interest in being mastered, Beau certainly seemed to enjoy the hell out of getting his dick handled—if the status of his raging hard-on was any indication.
No matter how much the lips might lie, the parts farther south always spoke the God’s honest truth.
He stroked his thumb along the groove where the central vein of Beau’s cock bisected the crown. “I’ll make you a deal. We extend Al’s contract by a few days. If you still think you can walk away afterward, I won’t stop you.”
Impossible to say if the agonized look on Beau’s face was due to his inner battle with the temptation of Van’s proposal or the taunting pressure of his fingers. “Just so we’re clear, my agreement—if I give it—only extends to my involvement with Allie. No way am I giving you free rein to dominate me however you please.”
“We both know I wouldn’t be the only one benefiting in terms of pleasure. I reward my subs very well.” He hunkered to his knees and tugged Beau’s boxer briefs below his hipbones before sliding his mouth over the satiny head of his best friend’s dick.
“Fuck.” A fierce shiver tripped through Beau.
Van shifted his attention upward, the fire burning low in his belly igniting into a full-scale blaze as he took in Beau’s shuddery, slack-jawed expression. Expertly jacking his shaft with one hand, he concentrated his oral devotion on the cap. It was a fine balance—giving enough mind-blowing friction while withholding just enough to prolong the edge. It was especially tough considering how he wanted nothing more than to swallow Beau whole. Deepthroat every inch of his thick, beautiful cock until Beau forgot any of his stupid reasons for resisting.
He’d sucked more than his share of dick. That aforementioned reward for good sub behavior and all. But this? It felt more like his reward. The hot, musky tang of Beau on his tongue was a reward a lifetime in the making.
He lowered his hand again and palmed Beau’s ball sac, massaging his testicles lightly. Beau allowed him that small liberty without protest, but his body immediately tightened the second Van’s fingers traced the crack of his ass. Without the luscious distraction of Al, it was doubtful Beau would let down his guard regarding anal play. Dropping any idea of pushing his luck, Van settled for squeezing Beau’s butt cheek as he hoovered his cock toward the back of his throat. Once he had nearly every inch of his shaft swallowed, he worked him over with an intense suction that had Beau shaking and moaning. Assured his best friend was seconds from shooting his load, he slipped his mouth free.
A desperate groan fell from Beau. “I was about to come.” He angled his hips forward, silently pleading with his eyes and the bobbing of his cock against Van’s lips.
Though it was just about the toughest thing he’d ever done in his life, Van ignored the tantalizing offer and calmly hoisted to his feet. “Believe me, I’m well aware. And I would have helped you out with that little problem if you were my sub. Seeing how you’re not, I can’t exactly give you that reward, can I?”
“You motherfucking cocksucker.”
“Yeah, but at least I’m a good one.” Ignoring Beau’s incinerating death glare, he returned to the heart of the matter. “Al as our sub for the rest of the week. You with me or not?”
Though tension bracketed Beau’s mouth, there was no mistaking the needy hunger emanating from him. “I think it’s a bad idea. You’ll probably do it with or without me, so I should be there to make sure Al isn’t getting in over her head.”
Van grunted. “Mighty big of you to sacrifice yourself that way.”
Beau hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and tugged the undergarment back in place. He stared at his bare feet for a long moment before lifting his focus to Van. “I don’t feel comfortable with Al knowing about any of this.” He m
ade a vague gesture between the two of them.
“I don’t think she’d judge.”
“Maybe not. But you’re also assuming she wouldn’t be freaked the fuck out over it.”
“Actually, I don’t know that. The only way to find out is to come clean with her.” Van easily detected Beau’s rapid slide back into lockdown mode. Letting his best friend shut him out after they’d come this far? Not a fucking option. “We can feel her out by me bringing up my past relationships with male subs. Whatever her reaction turns out to be, it’ll be your call how to proceed.”
Beau remained quiet for several seconds before finally acquiescing with a brusque nod. He scratched his jaw, his expression pensive. “When do you want to talk to her?”
“Tonight.”
A weary breath floated from Beau. “Not wasting any time, impatient motherfucker.”
“Nope.” He’d flushed too many years down the crapper turning his back on his feelings for Beau and Allie. They were his future. Not a damn chance he was wasting one more second by not going after the two people who completed him in every way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sundays were always her day to either goof off or concentrate on her lingerie designs. Only problem? No matter how hard she tried to distract herself with either activity, her mind kept reeling her back to her earthshattering experiences with Van and Beau last night.
None of her fantasies came remotely close to competing with the real deal. The power they’d wielded over her senses and her body? Hoo boy. It was a damn miracle she could walk today. As if intent on reminding her of that little factoid, the not entirely unpleasant soreness in her vagina decided to make its presence known again with a tiny twinge of discomfort. Shifting restlessly, she smothered her laugh.
She was clearly losing her damn mind. What kind of nutcase enjoyed having a sore-ass pussy?
The kind who’d been showered with more orgasms then she knew what to do with, that’s what.
Truthfully, incredible as the orgasms had been, they were only partly responsible for the mind-blowing status of last night. Van and Beau stoked something inside her. Something she hadn’t even realized was lurking in her subconscious—an overwhelming desire to relinquish control.
Had she always held submissive tendencies? Certain aspects of BDSM excited and tantalized her—hence the reason her bookcases were groaning from the excess weight of all those erotic romances featuring the subject matter. So really, maybe the clues had been there all along.
What she hadn’t anticipated, though? How good it’d feel to give up the reins. After the accident, the mere prospect of control slipping away from her had been absolutely terrifying. But with Beau and Van, she didn’t have to worry about anything. They made her feel safe—a state of being she couldn’t remember experiencing in a long time.
Only... now all she had were blissful memories to tide her over. Stop being greedy. At least you have those. Sighing, she dropped her sketchpad onto her lap and stared at the blank TV screen across the way.
She’d known precisely what she was getting into. They hadn’t offered her false promises of a permanent relationship. And she’d been okay with that.
For the most part.
Okay, it was a total load of BS. Deep down, she’d secretly hoped they’d be equally addicted to the explosive chemistry between them.
Unless...maybe they hadn’t felt the same spark she did.
A heavy ache threatened to claim squatter’s rights in the pit of her belly. Sucking in a shaky breath, she shook her head. No. These stupid doubts wouldn’t do her in. They wouldn’t ruin her memories. Last night had been special. Meaningful and life-changing. Beau and Van didn’t have to pledge their undying love to her to cement that fact. She had a new understanding of herself. Of her sexuality. An incredible gift on its own. One she would not only cherish forever but would also use to empower her life. With this new recognized aspect of herself, she knew precisely what she wanted out of a romantic relationship. No settling for anything less.
Grasping that assertion with everything she had, she picked up her pink drafting pencil and absently added a bright swath of color to finish off her chemise design. Within minutes, the creative buzz pulled her back under its spell and muted her troubled musings.
She succeeded in filling up half a dozen pages in her pad before her cell phone chirped, shearing through her focus. Distracted, she snatched the device from the coffee table. Her heart leaped into a giddy pirouette at the number on the display. Popping a mental chill pill, she clicked the Talk button and summoned the most casual “Hello?” she could muster.
“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Van.”
His deep baritone and the endearment went straight to the gooey center of her heart. “Hi.” Good grief, was she always going to be this breathless and excited hearing his voice?
Yes. Yes, she was. No denying or fighting it.
“Any chance you’re free tonight? Beau and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Her pulse missed a beat. “Y-you do?”
“It’s nothing bad,” he quickly assured, evidently detecting her trepidation. “If anything, I think you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”
Just seeing them again would send her straight to the moon happy. Resisting the urge to dance around the room, squeeing like a complete lunatic, she tapped her drafting pencil against her sketch pad and cleared her throat. “Actually, I do owe you guys that dinner...”
“It’s a date then. We’ll be there around six.”
She continued clutching her cellphone after he hung up, her cheeks hurting from what presumably qualified as the world’s dopiest grin. “He called it a date.” Entirely ridiculous to be ecstatic about it, but it was a vast improvement over the whole “Let’s just call it dinner” thing.
Oh God, dinner. She was supposed to feed them. Did she have anything remotely edible in the apartment? Tossing her phone and sketchbook aside, she jumped off the couch and dashed into the kitchen. A quick rummage in the fridge and cupboards confirmed her suspicions. Zilch in the way of food. Or at least anything suitable for impressing the guys. Highly unlikely a wilted head of lettuce and frozen ravioli would get the job done. “Crap.”
The good news? Her Nissan was back from the mechanic with a full tank of gas, and Jana had paid her a week early. She could splurge on something more thrilling than Ramen noodles. Pumping her fist in victory, she hustled to the bathroom. An inspection in the mirror triggered her wince. “Good grief, I look like Cousin It’s long lost sister.” Wrinkling her nose, she rectified that problem by dragging a comb through her hair and pulling the strands into a high ponytail. Deeming herself presentable enough, she grabbed her purse and keys.
Outside, Mother Nature smiled on her. Yeah, it was cold enough to give a polar bear frostbite, but at least the sky was a beautiful crystal blue with only a light dusting of snowflakes drifting down. “See, even the universe knows I’m meant to be with Van and Beau.” Wishful thinking on her part, but this was her delusional fantasy world, damn it, and no one was evicting her from it.
Less than an hour later, she wheeled her grocery haul out to her car. The local Kroger’s had been more than happy to relieve her of an entire day’s pay. She’d opted to go full guns, impress-the-shit-outta-the-guys. Three gorgeous sirloin steaks and all the fresh fixings for a salad and twice-baked potatoes. Because a gal was sometimes forced to compromise, she’d cheated in the dessert department and purchased a boxed cheesecake. Eh, no biggie. Top it with sliced strawberries and no one would know the difference.
She finished packing her backseat with the groceries and parked the cart in the nearby corral as a Kroger employee swaddled head to toe in heavy winter gear arrived to collect the bounty of carts. He tossed her a nod. “Beautiful day we’re having, eh?”
Technically she’d had to wing it and assume that’s what he’d said. With the thick scarf muffling his words, he might as well have been speaking Romulan. “Absolutely.” Considering she was going
to see Beau and Van soon? It was a beautiful day. No topping it. Refusing to bring the goofiness of her grin down a respectable notch, she shot a departing wave his way and jumped into her SUV.
A few blocks from home, she realized she’d forgotten one vital part of the meal—booze. “And that’s why you should always make a list, dumb butt.” Groaning, she glanced at the dashboard clock. Should be enough time to make a wine stop. Recalling the party store beyond the next intersection, she clicked her blinker on and merged into the right lane as soon as a gap appeared in the light flow of traffic.
A minivan suddenly zipped by her on the left before abruptly veering into her lane, forcing her to swerve to avoid clipping their bumper. A strange mechanical sound vibrated through the chassis. An instant later, the traction control light flashed on the dashboard. In the fraction of a second it took her to register the warning, the front end of the Nissan spun in the opposite direction, straight toward the neighboring lane.
“Shit, shit, shit.” White-knuckling the steering wheel, she pumped the brakes, her panic spiking as the car continued fishtailing sideways. A horn blared, followed by a jarring bang that rattled through her bones. She had zero time to react—much less see her life flash before her eyes—as the impact spun the Nissan in a wild one-eighty. Her entire world morphed into a whirling blur of chaos. She had no idea which direction she was spinning in, or if she was even still on the road.
Several heart-stopping seconds later, the traction control reactivated, jerking the SUV to a slip-slidey halt. She shivered violently, her only awareness the static buzz occupying her brain. Breathing wasn’t an option. Nor was removing her death grip from the steering wheel. Even when her fingers started to cramp they refused to cooperate and loosen their hold.
It took an eternity to process the dull rapping noise coming from the vicinity of her door. Trapped in her numb nightmare, she sluggishly moved her focus toward the window. A face stared back at her with an expression that pinged a horrifying sense of dėjá vu. She’d seen that look before, right before she’d been pulled from the wreckage of her dad’s Chevy.