Triple Knockout (Make Mine A Menage Book 3) Page 7

  Pasting on a smile for Van’s benefit, she waggled her fingers in parting and shut the passenger door.

  Once she was inside the shop her oppressive thoughts ganged up on her with bullying glee. Staggering to the checkout, she thunked her purse onto the counter. A whimpering moan slipped free before she could kill it.

  Jana chose that moment to step out of the erotic toy aisle. Worry tweaking her eyebrows into a low V, she crossed to Allie. “What’s wrong?”

  “I-it’s stupid.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  She resisted for as long as her pride would let her, but in the end, her ridiculous sob story spilled out in a mortifying mess. Despite her embarrassment, it was a strange relief to share her heartache. She had girlfriends she hung out with, though none she was close enough with she’d feel comfortable exposing her feelings to them. Once upon a time, her mom had been her biggest confidant and best friend, but the accident had ripped her away and left a gaping void behind.

  Fighting back the additional pain that thought brought on, Allie sucked in a shuddery breath. “M-maybe those women are right about me being pathetic. How else do you explain someone who throws herself at two men despite every sign pointing that she’s going to get the big smackdown?”

  A laugh belted from Jana, and Allie cringed. Wiping her watering eyes, Jana reached out and wrapped her in a fierce hug. “I’m not laughing at you if that’s what you’re thinking.” She gave Allie another reassuring squeeze. “Girl, you’re looking at the biggest pathetic case in history. Don’t even consider stealing that title out from under my nose.”

  The notion of Jana being the slightest bit pathetic was so out in left field, Allie could only blink in response.

  “I spent five years chasing after Kev,” Jana said, evidently reading Allie’s confusion. “I all but performed stripteases in front of him. There were a ton of times I questioned what the hell was wrong with me that I didn’t give up on the dream of him while I still had an ounce of pride left.”

  Whoa. Jana had been the one to pursue Kevin? Talk about a shocker. Particularly considering how he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her now. “What kept you from giving up?”

  “Stubbornness. And the undeniable fact that I love him so much, I can’t see my life without him in it. Same goes for Nick. They’re everything to me, and I’d gladly toss aside my pride to be with them.”

  Jana’s emphatic words stirred wistfulness inside Allie. She wished she could be that courageous and undaunted by the towering obstacles standing between her, Van, and Beau.

  Cocking her head to the side, Jana regarded Allie intently. “Is this sexual attraction and a bit of a crush we’re talking about here, or are you in love them?”

  She thought back to the countless occurrences of her nerves and stomach going haywire whenever she was around Beau and Van. Her heart alternated between being the happiest place on earth and a black abyss depending on her vicinity to them. They made her feel a sweet and terrifying depth of emotion she’d never experienced with any other men.

  Her belly suddenly overrun with directionally challenged butterflies, she pressed a hand to her mouth and choked against a wave of queasiness.

  “Yep, you’re in love.” Sympathy clouding her gaze, Jana patted Allie’s arm.

  “Wh-what am I going to do?” Despising the wobble in her voice, she peered at Jana helplessly. “They’ve made it clear they can’t be with me because of Eric. And Van thinks I won’t be able to handle the BDSM stuff they’re into.”

  “Playing devil’s advocate here, but what if you can’t? It’s not for everyone. I’ll admit that if any man demanded I call him Sir, I’d probably deliver it along with a knee in his gonads.”

  “Do you think they’d expect me to do that? Call them Sir, I mean?”

  Jana shrugged. “It’s entirely possible.”

  Okay, admittedly that would be a little weird. But if that was the worst of it she could probably handle it. Her thoughts drifted to a few of the books she’d read. “Some of the really extreme stuff I’m not sure I’d like. Bloodplay and all that jazz.” She grimaced. “I’m also not a big fan of pain. I’m a big blubbery baby if I stub my toe. So I’m thinking caning and such probably wouldn’t be up my alley.” On the other hand, the idea of getting spanked kind of made her panties uncomfortably wet. And the whole bondage element…

  Ooh, yeah. She could definitely get into that.

  Jana tapped one metallic pink fingernail against her lips for a moment. “Here’s what I suggest. Lay out all your concerns to them and stick to that list. From what I hear around the club, most of the members in the D/s scene have hard and fast rules on what their limits are. Beau and Van will understand, and likely encourage you to be completely honest with what you do and don’t feel comfortable with.”

  “I’ve got news for ya. They’re not going to encourage me in the first place.”

  “That’s because they’re men, which of course means they need to pretend you’re a vestal virgin who requires protection from their lecherous ways.” Jana rolled her eyes. “Idjits. You’ll just have to show them that you’re a sensual, uninhibited woman who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants. Namely, lots of dirty, durrrty sex.”

  She countered Jana’s grin with a grunt. “Trust me, I’ve tried that route, with no luck.”

  “Not that I don’t heartily approve of you dishing up your naughty fantasy scenarios to them, but I think this might call for more extreme measures.”

  Uncertainty crept over her. “How extreme?”

  “Jana extreme.”

  Allie gulped. “Oh, God.”

  “I guarantee that by the end of this experiment you’ll have them eating out of your hand—and infinitely more fun places.”

  Okay, that sounded promising.

  “What do you say?” Jana arched one eyebrow. “Up for the challenge?”

  She met Jana’s sparkling gaze and took a deep breath before expelling it slowly. “Yes.”

  And into the wild sexy blue yonder I go.

  If she was lucky, maybe her heart would even survive the adventure.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Beau passed his coat to the attendant manning Arabesque’s reception desk. Although it’d been months since he’d been through the front doors, a familiar rush of excitement zipped through him. It had zero to do with seeing Van in his prime element. Holding tight to that blatant lie, he slid his wallet into his suit jacket and ventured downstairs.

  Though the lower level had been rearranged for tonight’s auction, many of the public display areas ringing the perimeter of the vast space remained operational. Mistress Willow glanced up from her table and blinked at him before offering a wide smile. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

  “Shit. Do I really look that bad?” He made a show of straightening his suit lapel before finger-combing his hair.

  Willow grunted. “As if that’s genetically possible with you Coltons.” She swept him with her appraising stare. “But seriously, it’s good to have you back. Maybe now your partner in crime won’t be moping around like a total buzz kill.”

  He frowned. “Are you talking about Van?”

  Her expression suggested he might have left his brain back at the coat check. “Who else would I mean?”

  Damn. So Van had been a depressing jackass while he’d been on sabbatical. That knowledge probably shouldn’t please him as much as it did, especially since he’d made a real point to avoid inappropriate thoughts about Van the last two days. Not that he’d been the least bit successful.

  The real kicker? He’d made things a million times harder on himself—pun most definitely intended—by picking up a new sex toy. A vibrating plug. He had no goddamn idea why he did it.

  Okay, that was a total crock of shit. He hadn’t been able to stop replaying Van’s sinful admission. “If I weren’t set in my ways, I’d probably take a cock in my ass and love every second of it.” When a hardcore Dom admits
something like that, of course the thing to do is investigate it for yourself. That had been his excuse when he’d hopped online to do some shopping, and damn it, he was still sticking to that excuse.

  The really unfortunate kicker? Van hadn’t been blowing smoke up his ass. The first time he’d used the plug he made the mistake of opting for highest intensity while he’d pumped his cock and mentally replayed Allie’s fantasy. He came so hard, he nearly took his own fucking eye out. Lesson learned—always go with the lowest vibe setting and point your dick away from your damn face.

  Pulling his thoughts from that disturbing memory, he cleared his throat and returned his attention to Willow. “Sticking to demonstrations tonight?”

  She shrugged. “I might check out the auction. No real plans to bid though. I’m broke as fuck.”

  “You know if you need any extra cash you can always help out at the gym.”

  “Would I have to wear a leotard?”

  “Only if it’s a neon pink leopard print with a matching headband.”

  “Damn it, Colton. How can I say no now?” Grumbling under her breath, she reached for the box of paraphernalia resting on her table.

  Chuckling, he left her to futz with her display and strode toward the rows of seats situated in front of the curtained-off stage where the auctionees would be strutting their stuff. Because the proceeds were being donated to a local women’s abuse center that’d been started by one of the members, attendance would be higher than usual tonight, evidenced by the number of chairs. A sense of pride fell over him at the proof of the BDSM community’s support of such an important cause. Yeah, they might be a kinky group, but their hearts were in the right place.

  “Bout time you showed up.”

  Shifting his focus, he met Van’s steady gaze. The funny rollercoaster sensation skyrocketed through his gut.

  Van had dressed for the occasion too. His dark navy suit and the dazzling whiteness of his button-down shirt were a devastating complement to his perpetually tanned complexion. A shadow of beard graced his jaw, the sight of it shooting phantom tingles along Beau’s skin as he recalled the disturbingly pleasurable scruff abrading his flesh during their kiss the other night.

  Averting his stare, Beau returned his attention to the stage. “What are you bitching about? The auction doesn’t start for another forty minutes.”

  “Did you have a chance to get over and visit Lacey?”

  He shook his head. “Her parents are in town for the weekend. I’ll stop by once she’s got fewer people underfoot at the house.”

  A brief silence fell over them. He didn’t usually feel any need to fill the empty voids of a conversation, especially with Van, but the tension between them was a living thing, encompassing its own breathing space and stealing too much oxygen. In his peripheral vision, he caught Van watching him intently.

  “We’re gonna have to talk about it sooner or later,” Van said without preamble.

  “Not if we want to keep things normal between us.”

  Van grunted. “You call this normal?”

  “Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” Beau said tightly.

  “Fine, then how about we discuss Al, and her desire to have a threesome with us?”

  He whipped his gaze back to Van. “Fuck. I told her to keep her lips zipped about that.”

  Van’s mouth adopted a wry twist. “Yeah, I figured as much after putting two and two together with how strange you were acting at the gym yesterday. You coulda saved me a world of shock by giving me some warning, you dipshit.”

  “And deprive you hearing her dirtiness first hand?” He snorted.

  “Hell, who woulda thought she had it in her?” His expression mystified and distinctly aroused, Van shook his head. “Whatever books she’s reading, they’re some damn doozies.”

  His curiosity busting at the seams, Beau observed the fire kindling in Van’s eyes. “What did she say to you?”

  “That she wanted me to master her. Then she offered to suck my cock while her hands are bound behind her.”

  The image flashed through Beau’s mind with alluring vividness. In the next instant, he superimposed his face beside Allie’s, and they were taking turns licking Van’s cock while the other sucked his balls.

  Jesus. A bead of sweat crawled down his spine, adding to his discomfort. “I hope you told her there’s no way in hell you’re going along with her suggestion.”

  Van gave him a peevish look. “What kind of asshole do you take me for?”

  “She can be damn persuasive.” Shit, he knew that all too well.

  “I do have some restraint,” Van growled. “And I’m not just talking about the ones tucked in my bedside drawer.”

  Normally, he would have chuckled at that last part, but he was far from being in any sort of amused mood. Plus the last thing he wanted to do was dwell on Van’s vast arsenal of kinky paraphernalia. No doubt the restraints were on neighborly terms with that infernal butt plug. “I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. But we need to be on the same wavelength when it comes to Al.” He scraped a hand through his hair and stared absently at the last minute preparations taking place on the stage. “Maybe we should sit down with her and provide a united front on why this threesome idea of hers is a disaster waiting to happen.”

  Van’s silence was unnerving. When it stretched a few seconds too long, Beau offered him the stink eye. “We are on the same page, correct?”

  Swiping his hand along his stubbled jaw, Van slid him a guilty stare.

  Beau jabbed his finger into Van’s sternum. “Goddamn it, you will not think with your dick. This is Allie, for fuck’s sake.”

  “You think I haven’t been reminding myself of that for the last nineteen hours, thirty minutes, and fifty-three seconds? ‘Cause trust me, I have. Continuously. But here’s the fucking kicker. Any other woman, I likely wouldn’t be torturing myself with the possibility. But the notion of having Allie and you? Let’s just say I’m in the running for a Guinness record for blue balls.”

  Van’s admission punched through Beau, for more than one reason. “Her threesome fantasy is about her being with us. My ass isn’t part of the equation.” Recalling the trap he’d landed himself in the last time he’d issued that disclaimer, he quickly tagged on the necessary amendment. “Or my mouth. Bottom line, we’re not talking about anything like your Jake experience.”

  Another layer of sticky sweat coated Beau’s back as he returned Van’s gaze. Try as he might, he couldn’t kill the memory of Van recounting his experience with Cora and Jake. Judging from the familiar flush of desire riding Van’s face, he was replaying it too.

  Desperate to get the conversation back on track, Beau coughed gruffly. “Eric would be pissed enough about you or me screwing around with Al. Both of us fucking her? He’d never talk to us again. And that’s assuming he didn’t come calling with his shotgun in tow.”

  A weary breath whistled from Van. “I’ve said all these same things to myself.”

  “Good, keep listening. We’ve got to stand strong and united with this. It’s as much for Al’s benefit too. God knows she isn’t prepared for the ramifications of a threesome.” He grunted. “Particularly not with perverts like us. Despite all her dirty talk, we both know she’s a good girl. I’d feel like shit for corrupting her.”

  That seemed to get through to Van more than anything. Nodding, he held out his hand. “United we stand.”

  Beau clasped his fingers around Van’s and tuned out the delicious shiver that tripped down his spine at the skin-on-skin contact.

  The arrival of the first wave of auction goers distracted Beau and Van from further conversation. Not that it mattered. Beau felt nothing but immense relief at the two of them coming to an agreement on the situation with Allie. She was the important matter here. His own personal identity crisis would work itself out, then everything would be right again all around.

  Keeping that determination planted firmly in his mind, he exchanged greetings and shook hands with the
various club members who streamed into the quickly filling audience area. Working as a team, he and Van helped pass out the bidding paddles—actual spanking paddles that the participants would be able to take home and use for even more enjoyable purposes.

  At precisely eight o’clock, the lights dimmed, and he and Van took their seats in the front row. The black velvet curtain slid open with a sinuous glide, revealing a raven-haired woman kneeling center stage, hands clasped elegantly behind her, full breasts bared and thrusting prominently from the cutouts in her shiny red latex bodysuit. Overhead spotlights caught the reflective glint from the piercings in her nipples.

  The auctioneer standing at the far podium opened the bidding, and a flurry of paddles shot into the air. Beau kept his resting on his knee. He knew his paddle wouldn’t be moving from that spot tonight. It’d be interesting to see who Van ended up with though. Male, female—anything was possible with Van. So long as it wasn’t Jake. It’d be just like Van to be a motherfucking asshole in order to fluster Beau.

  The female ultimately fetched a hefty price of one thousand dollars and exited the stage amid a volley of appreciative applause. The next three women received similar bidding activity, and the male sub following them went for considerably more. Beau didn’t fail to notice that Van’s fingers hadn’t so much as inched toward his paddle in the last fifteen minutes. If he was holding out due to some farfetched hope of Beau changing his mind, he was in for a rude awakening.

  With a pointed clearing of his throat, the auctioneer nabbed the audience’s attention again, and an expectant hush fell in place. “Our next offering hails from right here in Macomb County. Her hard limits are caning, humiliation, and medical play. Soft limits are negotiable upon close of bidding. This is her first time within The Scene, so a contract is mandatory folks.”