Triple Knockout (Make Mine A Menage Book 3) Read online

  He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re here for you. Always. So stop fretting.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Am I really a fretter? How obnoxious.”

  He released her and tugged the end of her ponytail. “No, you’re the sweetest woman I know and too sexy for words.”

  Hard to say if it was the hair pulling or his praise that made her all hot and tingly in the fun places. “You should probably go before I try to jump your bones.”

  Grinning, he ducked out into the hall. “If you miss me too much you can always sniff my pillows.”

  “I might even masturbate while I’m doing it,” she called after him.

  That managed to make him trip over his own feet. Her whistle not entirely innocent, she closed the door.

  ~*~

  Okay, so the masturbation and pillow sniffing ended up being a no-go. Huge bummer, but for the sake of productivity, she did have higher items on her priority list that needed tackling. Surprisingly, the next few hours flew by in a whirl once she’d unpacked and settled in. She’d made space in the armoire to hang the couple of things she didn’t want wrinkled. The rest of her clothes could stay put in her bags. She’d even had time to set up a mini workspace with one of the folding dinner tables she’d found tucked away behind the folding screen in the corner of the room, and she had a good start on the pattern for the chemise she’d sketched earlier.

  Feeling considerably less like a total slacker, she tidied up her station and then focused on dinner prep. Despite Beau’s apparent fascination with carryout—the heathen—his kitchen was well stocked with all kinds of high-end cookware and gadgets she could only guess at the purpose for. She settled on a cast iron pan big enough to sear the steaks. After locating a glass baking dish for the potatoes, she hauled out the items for the salad and began chopping the veggies. The chore was oddly soothing. Nothing to focus on other than making sure she didn’t cut off her fingers. Her mind took advantage of the monotonous task by drifting to its favorite past time—sexy musings about her men.

  Maybe ‘her men’ was stretching it a bit. She might have passed the fantasy boyfriend stage, but it was presumptuous to label them with any ownership tags.

  Lovers. That for sure qualified. And hopefully not one time lovers, either. Although neither of them took her up on her brazen and shameless finagling for sex earlier, she for once didn’t worry about it having anything to do with them not wanting her. In addition to his mouthwatering hard-on, Beau had practically devoured her with his eyes earlier, and Van made it clear that he was up—heheheh—for a blowjob later. Plus, he’d promised the upcoming talk about breaking the one night rule. At least she presumed that would be the outcome.

  Please, God, let that be the outcome. The possibility of spending even one night in that humungous bed and not being snuggled between their glorious bodies, naked other than matching post-orgasmic glows? Torturous.

  A stinging pain zipped through her and she yelped. It took a second to realize the sensation wasn’t a byproduct of her agonized thoughts. Grimacing at the bright splash of blood dripping down her hand, she hurried to the sink and flipped on the faucet. A quick run under the cascading water banished the majority of her worry. Only a nick. Thank God. It would have been the height of irony and horrible if she’d been looking at a trip to the ER after narrowly escaping that fate this afternoon.

  Despite dodging that bullet, there was still one tiny problem. She was bleeding like a stuck pig with no sign of it slowing down. “Son of a—” Breaking off in mid-curse, she fumbled with the paper towel dispenser, clumsily ripping off a couple of sheets. She fashioned a quasi-tourniquet and then dashed toward the bathroom. A fast rummage through the medicine cabinet for bandages proved unfruitful. Next, she tried her luck with the cupboard under the basin. Nada. Same result with the dresser and nightstand. She returned to the kitchen and ransacked every drawer before admitting defeat.

  Groaning, she stared at the blood-soaked wad of paper towel. She had two options. Either stand here and bleed out or schlep her ass down to the gym, where there would likely be a First Aid kit.

  Damn it, she really didn’t want to do that. What if Beau and Van tried to hustle her off to the hospital? Doubtful she’d be able to talk them out of it this time. Which would totally suck balls. But she also couldn’t make dinner while geysering blood all over the stinkin’ place.

  She’d have to risk it. After replacing the paper towel with a fresh sheet, she jogged downstairs. The first thing that hit her was the realization that the music usually piped through the sound system was curiously absent. She discovered the reason for that as she pushed through the doorway at the bottom of the steps and walked into the empty gym.

  Mystified, she peered toward the expanse of windows flanking the front of the building. The sign near the entrance was flipped to Closed. “Must be way later than I thought.”

  The good news? She didn’t have the gym bunnies to contend with. Somehow she resisted the urge to perform a ridiculous Happy Dance right there in the middle of the gym. Figuring Van and Beau must be in their office, she bee-lined in that direction. Their voices filtering through the partially closed door confirmed her hunch.

  “Damn it, I’m telling you we should wait. She was just in an accident for fuck’s sake.”

  “Obviously I’m aware of that, but thanks for pointing it out like I’m some kind of moron.”

  She stumbled to a halt. Oh, shit. They were fighting. And about her, from the sound of it.

  “I’m not going to let her sign a contract when she’s still in a vulnerable state.”

  Contract? That must mean they were going to extend her time as their sub. Overwhelming emotions ambushed her. Excitement. Joy. Happiness. Several others she couldn’t even put a name to. Torn between weeping or giving in to that Happy Dance after all, she hugged her chest.

  “We both damn well know this isn’t about Allie.”

  Van’s gruff pronouncement cracked through a portion of her ecstatic haze, knocking her butt back down to Earth. She dropped her arms and frowned. What did he mean by that? How could it not be about her if they were discussing her contract?

  “You’re scared shitless about what she’s going to think. I get it. Believe me. But we have to trust that all of this will work out.”

  Okay, now she was thoroughly confused. Why in the world would Beau be scared about anything? Much less something to do with her? It made no sense.

  She closed the short distance to the door, her pulse accelerating with each step. Van and Beau came into view. Though they stood less than five feet in front of her, they obviously hadn’t noticed her yet. Uncertainty and a healthy dose of trepidation held her hostage.

  Stop stalling. You have every right to be in on this conversation if it’s about you. Clinging to that determination for all she was worth, she cleared her throat. Both men jerked their attention to her so fast, it was a damn miracle neither one suffered whiplash as a result.

  Beau’s expression was the first to jump from surprised to wary. “Al...how long have you been standing there?”

  “A while,” she replied sheepishly. Her injury gave her the perfect excuse for eavesdropping, but if she brought up her original mission for Band-Aids, they’d completely focus on that. Then she’d never find out what had Beau so spooked. “Whatever it is you assume I’m going to think, you’re wrong.”

  Van crossed his arms over his chest and gave Beau a pointed look. “Told you so.”

  “She’s saying that without the necessary information.”

  “Then give it to me. Please.” It took everything she had not to drop onto her knees and beg.

  Beau opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut, his gaze tortured. Van heaved a frustrated breath. “Fuck it. Never been a fan of the subtle route anyway.” With that cryptic pronouncement floating in the air, he gripped Beau’s shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Fielding Van’s tongue in his mouth while Allie stood
there, eyes big as dinner plates and her jaw down around her knees? It was the living definition of insanity. Hell, he would have laughed his ass off if it was the least bit funny—which it sure as shit was not.

  He shoved at Van’s chest, searing him with a glare the instant he retreated. “Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to feeling her out first?”

  “Oh, yeah. Guess that plan slipped my mind.” The fucker didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

  Beau swiped at the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Was it possible to melt into a giant puddle of misery? “Al, say something. Please.”

  Rather than respond, Allie ping-ponged her stare between them for what he swore stretched eons beyond an eternity.

  This was bad. A million times worse than any of the outcomes he’d dreaded. Well, almost. She hadn’t hightailed it away from him. Yet.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other before releasing her breath in a huge rush. “That was...freakin’ hot.”

  It took a moment for her statement to bypass his inner turmoil. He gaped at her stupidly, his ability to manufacture words apparently on an inconvenient siesta.

  Tilting her head, she eyed him quizzically. “Why were you afraid to tell me?”

  Jesus. Where to start? “Because I don’t even know how to handle this. I sure as hell didn’t feel comfortable foisting it on you.”

  “What’s to be uncomfortable about? You and Van are a couple—way unexpected and surprising, I’ll admit, but I’m the last person to judge. In fact, I couldn’t be happier for you.” Worry suddenly took up residence in her gaze. “Is the real reason you’re against me signing the contract because you don’t want a third wheel?”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled heavily. “You were standing there for a while.” He dropped his arm and took her hand in his. That’s when he noticed the paper towel wadded around her finger. “What’s this?”

  “Just a minor cut. I’m fine, so don’t even think about taking me to the ER. I could use a Band-Aid, though, if you have one.”

  Van beat him to the First Aid kit. Awarding Allie his full attention, Beau cupped her cheek. “Despite what you overheard, my misgivings are one hundred percent about rushing you into this before you’re in the right frame of mind. And Van and I are not a couple.” Shit, as if that would be remotely possible without them killing each other. “He kissed me a few times—”

  “And gave him a blowjob he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about,” Van interjected with a smirk as he returned with the bandage and an antiseptic wipe.

  “Think you meant to say blue balls, motherfucker.” Grumbling, Beau gently loosened the paper towel and inspected the cut. “Doesn’t appear to need stitches.”

  “Good, because I want to know how in the world you could have been stuck with blue balls after a blowjob from Van.” Disbelief homesteaded Allie’s face. “I’m not a guy—obviously—but having been on the receiving end of his mouth, it just doesn’t seem possible.”

  “Trust me. It is,” Beau replied woodenly.

  “The part he’s leaving out is that he could have come. All he had to do was use the magic word.”

  Allie frowned. “Please?”

  “Master,” Beau bit out.

  Van’s eyes sparkled. “Now look how easy that was.”

  “You’re fucking hilarious.” Tuning out Van’s chuckle, he ripped open the antiseptic packet and carefully swabbed Allie’s wound.

  She sucked in a breath—presumably due to the brief sting from the alcohol. “Wait, you’re Van’s sub?”

  He tossed the antiseptic aside and affixed the bandage before lifting his gaze to her shocked one. “No.”

  “I don’t understand. Then why is he giving you blue balls and insisting you call him Master?”

  “Because he’s a goddamn asshole.”

  Van shrugged. “Won’t argue with him there. But it’s only because he’s a stubborn jackass.”

  “Oh my God, you two are really confusing me.” Groaning, she rubbed her temple with her uninjured hand.

  “Our Beau here has been lying to himself about his true nature. He’s a submissive at heart. He just doesn’t want to be.”

  Allie peered up at him. “Is that true?”

  He opened his mouth to set her and Van straight, but the denial that’d been his lifelong companion suddenly refused to vacate his tongue. Instead, the words that had been taunting him for the last few days bullied their way to the forefront of his mind.

  Let yourself go. Crack the resistance and free yourself.

  Aw, hell. Much as he wanted to mute the message, he couldn’t. Fear and uncertainty gnawing at his brain, he plowed his hands through his hair before dragging them down his face. He offered Al a tortured look. “I don’t know. Well, the part about not wanting to be is true. I know that much.”

  She reached for his hands and squeezed them. “What about it scares you?”

  “Fucking all of it.” He flattened her palm over his pounding heart. “Feel that? That’s how much it terrifies me. I’ve been a Dom practically from the moment I lost my virginity. Control is everything to me. The thought of handing it over to someone else...”

  “Is hard,” she finished for him. “But it’s also something you secretly crave, and the more you deprive that side of yourself, the more it feels like there’s a pit of emptiness buried deep inside of you. Or an unquenchable thirst that’s never going away.” She volleyed his frown with a reassuring smile. “I know because it’s exactly how I felt too.”

  A fraction of the tension lifted from him. She did understand. Up to a certain point, anyway. “It’s still easier for you, Al.”

  “Because I was never a Dom?”

  “That. And you’re used to being with men. I’m not. Hell, even Van is used to being with guys. That leaves me all alone here.”

  “No, you’re wrong.” She stroked his face, her beautiful green eyes brimming with soft compassion. “You have me and Van. A little while ago he asked you to trust that this can all work out. Obviously he was referring to me, but I think it’s equally important to trust in you. In whatever your heart and gut are telling you to go with. So what is it that you want, Beau?”

  That was the million dollar question. For countless years he’d thought it was control. But with Allie and Van standing there in front of him—the two people who made him feel anything but in control, he could no longer delude himself. It was all an illusion. A lie he’d clung to in a desperate attempt to protect himself from the agonizing vulnerability of his feelings for Van and Allie.

  He hauled in a shaky breath and expelled it slowly. “I want you.” His nerves riding a wild zip line, he moved his gaze to Van. “I want both of you. I don’t want to run from this anymore.”

  Resistance cracked. He was one giant step closer to freedom. He just had to take that final leap. “I want to be dominated.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Halleluiah, it’s a Christmas miracle.” Clasping the back of Beau’s head, Van pulled him in for a hot lingering smooch. After slipping him some tongue, he bit his lip and then his whiskered jaw. He veered his focus to Allie and held out his hand. “Get your sexy ass over here, sweetheart. You deserve a big reward for getting through to this stubborn jackass.” He ducked his head, but just as he was about to claim her mouth, her hand molded over his crotch.

  She smiled angelically. “I assume this is my big reward?”

  “Well, more specifically, I was planning to get you soaking wet and then spread you out on that weight bench over there and fuck your sweet, juicy little cunt. Slow and deep. Over and over. Until you lose track of how many times you come for me.” This time of day and dim as the lighting was, he wasn’t too concerned about providing a show for anyone who might pull into the lot.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He was kinky enough to enjoy an audience.

  Allie’s breath stuttered, confirming that she wasn’t opposed to that scenario either. Banding his arm around her
waist, he hauled her closer and her lips parted on a lusty sigh, allowing his tongue to delve inside. The intimate press of their bodies made the perky buds of her nipples all too evident. Damn, she must have taken her bra off. Intrigued by that newsflash, he trailed his hand to her breast.

  She surprised him by breaking off the kiss and gripping his fingers. “Can I make a slight request regarding the reward?”

  He winged an eyebrow upward. “What did you have in mind?”

  Her tongue darting out to moisten her lips, she transferred her focus to Beau. “Do you remember the fantasy I told you about in the car?”

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  Damn. Must have been one hell of a fantasy to earn that reaction from Beau. “Someone care to fill me in?”

  “You were fucking her ass while I ate her out.”

  His cock damn near busted out of his briefs. He swung his gaze to Allie. “You weren’t joking about the anal fantasies. You bad little girl.” As predicted, that earned a restless squirm from her. “I’m not taking your ass without the proper tools for prepping you first, but you sure as hell are getting your reward with a slight modification.”

  She swayed in his arms. “I think I’m going to faint just thinking about it.”

  Beau groaned. “Meanwhile, it’s going to fucking kill me.”

  “You did sign up for this,” he reminded him with a pointed stare. “If you want an early back out clause, consider this your one and only chance.”

  “I don’t want a fucking back out clause.”

  Beau’s surliness only made him want to bang his grouchy ass more. He squeezed his nape. “Good boy.”

  Averting his gaze, Beau shifted uncomfortably. Interesting. Van dropped his hand to the fly of Beau’s workout pants. Hard as a fucking baseball bat. “You and Al are gonna make reward and punishment time hella enjoyable.”

  Al sent Beau a commiserating look. “He’s a monster.”

  “You’re just now figuring that out?”