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

  He’d always been the one in control. He craved it. Needed it with every fiber of his being. So being tormented with vivid dreams of Van forcing him to his knees in the boxing ring and slowly feeding his cock down Beau’s throat? It was enough to rattle him to the marrow of his bones.

  Van continued eyeing him with that prodding look that cut deeper beneath the surface than an X-ray machine. “You damn well better at least make an appearance at the club Saturday night.”

  It took a moment to recall their annual Sub For A Night charity auction. He snuffed a groan. Damn it, how did this weekend crawl up on him so fast? “Not sure. I was hoping to visit with Lacey and the baby,” he hedged.

  “Auction doesn’t start ‘til eight. Gives you plenty of time.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “It’d look bad if you bailed, seeing how we’re sponsoring a portion of the event.”

  Motherfucker knew how to back him onto the ropes and leave no room for a fair fight. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

  Van looked annoyingly pleased with himself. “Good. You need to get back in the ring.”

  “I said I’m going. Doesn’t mean I’m participating this time around.”

  “Worried I’ll outbid you?”

  “No, but I feel sorry for the poor sub who gets saddled with you.”

  “Haven’t gotten any complaints yet.” An easy confidence exuded from Van. Even the relaxed way he slouched in his chair spoke of a supreme command of his domain and everything residing within it.

  Including me? Beau quickly shoved the disquieting thought from his mind before it could fester. “Maybe I’ve gotten bored with the lifestyle.”

  Van’s gaze sharpened. “Meaning?”

  “Nothing.” Beau dragged a hand over his jaw, his beard scruff abrading his palm. Why in the hell had he brought that up? And to Van of all people? Fucking stupid. “Not something I want to talk about with Al in the other room.”

  Thankfully Van was in accordance with Beau’s train of thought and let the subject drop. For the most part. With Van, that was a fucking miracle in and of itself. “Maybe you need to reconsider what it is you truly want.”

  An uneasy twinge shuttled through Beau. With disturbing clarity, his warped brain decided to revisit his latest sex dream.

  “On your knees.”

  “No.”

  Van’s grip tightened on the nape of Beau’s neck. “You get one free pass for your disobedience. Test me again and you’ll feel me in your ass for the next week.”

  Why did that sound more like a promise than a menacing threat?

  “Knees. Now.”

  This time he didn’t balk, though Van’s steely challenge whispered a tantalizing siren song. The cushioned mat cradled his kneecaps when he sank in front of Van, his focus fixed to the sizable erection tenting the fly of his best friend’s boxing shorts.

  Awareness hit him like a sledgehammer. This is what true hunger felt like. A desperate yearning that flayed him to the bone and left him a shivering distortion of everything he held to be an unequivocal component of his identity.

  He shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t crave being at Van’s mercy, much less tremble in anticipation of what was to come.

  Van hitched his shorts down. Just enough that the waistband hugged beneath his balls. His cock rose like a thick, imposing column, veins rigid and defined, tempting Beau with one additional thing he shouldn’t lust after. A crystal bead of precome pearled from the tiny slit in the cockhead. More than anything, he longed to tongue that glistening globule and let its tanginess seep into his taste buds while he sucked Van deeper into his mouth. But Van was a fucking cock tease. He wasn’t about to give Beau an inch—literally—without making him work for it.

  “Lace your fingers behind your back and keep them there. So much as slacken your wrists and I’ll restrain them next time.”

  More promises. He debated disobeying. Tempting, if it meant a rope or cuffs in his future. But Van’s approval was a prize above all others. And the reward sure to be forthcoming…

  Shuddering in pleasurable expectancy, Beau dutifully clasped his hands behind him.

  “Good boy.”

  The silky praise slid through him like the sweetest honey. His whole being a twisted, trembling mass of neediness, he peered up at Van. He despised himself for caving to this vulnerability. For allowing his control to be stripped and used against him. If Van saw beneath the protective layers of Beau’s psyche and ferreted out the desires he feared giving voice to, Beau would no longer have a stronghold to cling to.

  Van fisted his cock and rubbed the gland over Beau’s lips. Groaning, he opened his mouth and caught a potent hint of Van’s flavor before insistent fingers tipped his head back. He stared at the alluring bait of Van’s cock. No, not bait. Reward. If only Van would give it to him.

  “I’m not the withholder here. You damn well know what you want. What you need. But you insist on lying to yourself.”

  He shook his head furiously. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I? Then prove me so.” Van eased his cockhead past Beau’s lips, giving him one stroking glide over his tongue before thrusting deeper. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t fucking love this.”

  Oh, Jesus, he did. With an intensity that terrified him. He fought the internal battle with himself, even as he greedily gobbled another inch of Van down his throat. Loving hands wrapped in his hair, holding him hostage to the tunneling invasion of the cock in his mouth and the chaos of emotions crushing him from the inside out.

  “Let yourself go. Crack the resistance and free yourself.”

  “Earth to Beau. Anyone home in there?”

  He snapped back to reality with a jolt. Breath compressed into a tight, painful ball in his sternum, he glanced at Van. “What?”

  “I asked if you want me to drive Al into work.”

  Beau scowled. “No. Why would you even suggest it?” Because you were drooling over her two minutes ago, dumbass. Hell, he really was going off the deep end with no life preserver in sight. He had two major strikes against him—inappropriate and completely out of the question fantasies about Allie and Van. Two of the most important and off limits people in his life. He was a damn danger to himself if he didn’t nip these illicit desires in the bud, pronto.

  The steady patter of water coming from the bathroom clued him in that Allie hadn’t yet gotten out of the shower. He lowered his voice anyway to safeguard being overheard. “If you’re insinuating I’d try something funny with her, you and I can finish what we started earlier in the ring.” Although he hadn’t intended his statement to be remotely sexual, he immediately conjured the dream memory of Van’s cock fucking his throat. An uncomfortable heatwave lit him from the inside out.

  “Don’t be a stupid jackass. I know you better than that. I only meant our new Aikido dude is due to arrive in half an hour. Seeing how you’re the one who hired him, probably best if you take care of the paperwork.”

  Beau grunted. “Nice way to get out of the tedious stuff.”

  “Shit, I’m no dummy.”

  The shower turned off with a clanking rattle of the pipes, calling a momentary ceasefire to Beau’s and Van’s squabbling. Beau pushed out a resigned exhalation. “Fine, you can go. But don’t fucking lollygag around. We have a damn business to run.”

  “Yes, mom.”

  Grumbling, Beau shifted his attention to the employment forms he’d readied for their new Aikido instructor. Midway through his double-check on the W2, the bathroom door swooshed open, instantly distracting him. Allie emerged from a strawberry-scented cloud of steam. Despite her jeans and a sweater, she might as well have been buck ass naked, judging from the spark of lust that flamed to life in his belly.

  Her face was completely devoid of makeup, emphasizing the natural pink glow riding her cheeks. She’d pulled her shiny auburn hair into a high ponytail, giving her a far more youthful appearance than twenty-six—and making him feel like an even bigger horndog for the raunchy thoug
hts swimming through his depraved noggin.

  Why the hell didn’t Eric have a brother instead of a tantalizingly fuckable sister? With greater effort than he cared to admit to, he tore his gaze from Allie and spied the rapt attention Van had pinned on her.

  And the motherfucker accused me of drooling. Suddenly more than a little concerned about passing Allie into Van’s hands, Beau shoved aside his paperwork. “Ready to go?”

  Van dropped his feet from the desk and snatched his keys from the drawer. “Yeah, I’ll just get the heat going in the truck so it’s not a block of ice.”

  Allie frowned. “I thought Beau was taking me.”

  Her innocently-worded statement conjured an entirely different scenario in Beau’s head. One that came soundtracked with Allie’s blissful groans and gasps while he sank into her with a deep thrust. Sweat trickling down his nape, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I am.”

  “No, you’re not. Aikido dude, remember?” Van craftily beat Beau to the doorway, effectively winning that round with a bum’s rush.

  Beau watched his business partner disappear through the exit, his teeth grinding in sync with Van’s aggravating whistle.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Getting out of paperwork in favor of driving Allie to work clearly wasn’t one of his more intelligent decisions.

  Van shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel of his Ford F250, attempting with minimal luck to ignore the cramped snugness of his briefs. He angled his knee, hoping it’d block Allie’s view of his crotch. Whatever scent she wore was playing havoc with his equilibrium. He swore she’d bathed in strawberry jelly and sex. Two things he happened to have a debilitating weakness for. The essence of both clinging lusciously to the one female who embodied the essence of forbidden fruit?

  He was a fucking goner if they didn’t reach Wicked Delights within the next two minutes. Plain and simple.

  Even as he acknowledged that fact, he imagined veering to the side of the busy four-lane road and slamming on the brakes seconds before he reclined his seat all the way back and hiked Allie over him so she straddled his face and he could bury his tongue in her sweet little pussy. She’d undulate in rhythm with his lazy tongue swirls, her fingers digging into his seat’s headrest while she rode his mouth. When he finally focused all of his devotion on her slippery clit, she’d arch above him, straining and panting, every centimeter of her being reaching for her orgasm. And he’d give it to her. Two strong suckling draws on her clit, and she’d be squirming and coming her brains out.

  Jaysus. He really needed a better hobby than this self-imposed torture. Firming his grip on the steering wheel, he breathed shallowly. Little damn good it did. Sure as hell didn’t lessen the havoc she played with his senses.

  Why the hell was fate fucking with him? There was a whole world of enticing prospects out there, and here he had it bad for the two people he couldn’t touch.

  Allie was a no-brainer. No matter how badly he hungered to act on his feelings for her, he couldn’t risk his friendship with Eric, particularly since he knew how protective Eric was of Allie. And rightfully so. Hell, Van was in complete accord with his buddy in that regard. Allie had been through too much to be treated with anything but kid gloves. Not that Van would ever be rough with her. But his sexual tastes and predilections weren’t soft and vanilla. Eric knew that about him and Beau. If they tried anything with Allie, the fallout would be ugly.

  Definitely not gonna happen.

  Then there was the situation with Beau.

  For the past year, Van had edged closer and closer to his ultimate conclusion about his best friend—Beau was fooling himself about his true nature. There were subtle clues pointing in the direction of Beau being a submissive at heart. Van had certainly played with enough subs—males included—to recognize the signs. He’d even subtly tested Beau on occasion, particularly in situations that mimicked a power exchange. Occasionally he pushed his dominance when they sparred in the ring. Every time Beau had counterpunched with a show of resistance, stopping just shy of a pissing contest to prove who was top dog.

  It was all a crock of shit.

  Despite Beau’s façade of defiance, his body always betrayed him. Excitement poured off him in massive waves when Van got a little too aggressive. There was the telling intake of Beau’s breath and the wary spark of hunger in his eyes when Van toed that intoxicating line of domination.

  His motives for wanting to hammer some sense into Beau weren’t as simply explained. On the one hand, he looked at it as his responsibility to his best friend to get Beau to face and accept the truth he stubbornly resisted. On the flip side of that long overdue revelation? The indisputable and undeniably selfish fact that if Beau did openly confess to his submissive nature it’d amount to giving Van the key to a treasure chest he’d lusted after too many years to count.

  If he turned that key and claimed what was inside, he’d potentially risk not only a friendship that meant everything to him but also Haymakers. He and Beau had put too much money, time, and sweat equity into building their business to throw it all away on sex.

  No matter how hot and fucking fantastic that sex would be.

  Tuning out the additional stirring behind his fly, Van pulled into Wicked Delight’s parking lot.

  “Thanks again for the ride.” Allie flashed a beaming smile that did funny things to his gut. “I promised Beau a home cooked dinner but since you’re the one who did the honors you get final dibs. What would you like to eat?”

  The first thing springing to his mind sure as hell wasn’t on the menu. “Surprise me.”

  “Deal.” She chewed her lip, her expression suddenly shy. “Are you free Saturday?”

  “Got something I can’t get out of. But if Sunday works for you, I’m all yours.”

  The return of her smile threatened to permanently blind him with its magnificence. “Then it’s a date.”

  That last word clanged warning bells in his head. “How about if we, uh, call it something else? Plain ole dinner never goes out of style.” And was less likely to result in a broken jaw courtesy of Eric should he catch wind of the innocent shared meal and jump to the wrong conclusion due to a bad word choice.

  A fraction of the sparkle faded from Allie’s eyes as her grin slipped. “Sure. That works too. Well, I better get inside before Jana sends a search party after me. See you later.”

  He opened his mouth, only to have his goodbye cut short by the jarring slam of the passenger door. Feeling like he’d somehow royally screwed the pooch with no prayer of redeeming himself, he watched her dash toward the store.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Allie yanked Wicked Delight’s front door shut before an icy gust could rip it from her hands. Ignoring the obnoxious trill of the Woody Woodpecker laugh that Jana Colton insisted on using for her welcome chime, Allie trudged toward the checkout, her gloominess a suffocating weight.

  Jana appeared from the back room. “Hey, you made it.”

  “Yeah, sorry I’m a few minutes late.”

  Jana offered a dismissive wave before glancing toward the front windows and the light snow flurries beginning to whip against the glass. A stubborn furrow marked her brow. “I see my cousin couldn’t be bothered to come in and say howdy. Guess I can mark him off my Christmas list this year, the jerkwad.”

  “Van dropped me off instead.”

  “Oh.” Jana’s lips twitched. “Looks like Beau’s in luck for getting that hideous Christmas sweater Nick and Kev picked out for him after all. Poor bastard.”

  Allie blinked. “Um, why would Nick and Kev want to give Beau an ugly Christmas sweater?” Nick Pappas and Kevin Monahan were Jana’s roommates, best friends, and committed life partners. Still didn’t explain why they were foisting atrocious fashion faux pas on innocent victims.

  “Several months back, Beau embarrassed the hell out of me by having the misfortune of visiting Club Arabesque on the same night I was there with my guys. Took me almost two weeks to suck it up and make a return trip. Nick and Kev wer
e so worried I’d been permanently scared off, they decided Beau must pay.” She pronounced the last two words in a suitably ominous voice. “What can I say? I’ve corrupted my men with my warped sense of humor.”

  She didn’t doubt it, but the rest of Jana’s pronouncement went completely over her head. “Why would it be a big deal if you ran into Beau at a nightclub?”

  “It wouldn’t be if it’d been a nightclub. Seeing how it was a sex club, and I wasn’t wearing anything at the time—kind of a huge freakin’ deal.” Jana’s expression turned sheepish when Allie gave a sputtering cough. “One of these days the filter for my mouth will hopefully kick in. In the meantime, how about if we pretend I didn’t mention anything about kinky sex clubs?”

  Yeah, not a chance. Dazed, Allie plopped her purse on the edge of the checkout counter. “Beau frequents a sex club?” Holy. Crap. She’d read enough racy romances to formulate a provocative image of sex dungeons and wild orgies. Was that the kind of thing Beau liked? The possibility filled her with conflicting amounts of shock, fascination, and trepidation.

  Evidently reading something on Allie’s face that gave away her thoughts, Jana offered a reassuring smile. “I know it probably sounds deviant to you, but the majority of Arabesque’s members are perfectly normal people. Just like you and me.” Jana grinned. “Well, mostly like you. The jury’s still out on me ever being classified normal. Regardless, I promise you don’t need to worry about my cousin morphing into a sexual freak and going all kinky-ma-dink on you when you’re least expecting it.”

  There’s a depressing thought. And all too true, sadly. She didn’t have to visit that sex club to know she wasn’t in the same league with the women Beau likely hooked up with. They would be experienced. Highly confident in their bodies and their ability to bring any man to his knees, including the delectable Beau.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t banish the tormenting picture of him in a sea of those beautiful naked women. Fucking them, and God knows what else. All manner of sinful things she’d fantasized about him doing to her. She’d figured he didn’t spend his free time cloistered in a monastery, but this…