Double Booked

  Double Booked

  Tessa Bailey

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Get More Tessa Bailey

  1

  Someone fucked up.

  And it was clearly you. Work this week was a bear and you must have been distracted. Because only a woman being held together by caffeine and a prayer would book a date with two men. At the same time. At the same damn restaurant. Ah, the pitfalls of online dating. Several different profiles across the Internet have finally caught up with you, in the form of a clean cut, square-jawed cop...and a tattooed biker with a cigarette behind his ear.

  They both stand—one briskly, one slowly—as you come to a stop between the two tables. "Uh, hey. Gentleman, there's been...quite an embarrassing mistake. You see..."

  Cop gets it first, throwing a glance at Biker, before returning his sharp attention to your red face. "Jesus."

  Biker starts laughing.

  "I think it's for the best if we just forget this ever happened," you continue, wincing at he note of hysteria in your voice. "I mean, who could ever choose?"

  The biker slides the cigarette from behind his ear, tapping it against his sculpted lips. "Who says you need to choose?"

  2

  Who says you need to choose?

  Biker’s question is hanging in the air like a dense, dangerous cloud…one that floats forward and surrounds you. You should laugh off the blatant invitation, repeat your apology and leave. That’s exactly what you’re going to do, right? Only, Cop isn’t laughing. After his initial scoff, he has grown still, watching you under hooded eyelids, maybe even a little ashamed of himself for still standing there. Waiting. They’re both waiting for an answer and you’ve let ‘yes’ become an option because you’ve been indecisive too long.

  Little by little, Biker has let go of his amusement, smirk fading as his gaze runs over your body, pausing at the hem of your skirt and scraping back up. He swaggers over to Cop’s table, jerking out a chair and falling into it. Then he drags the chair over from his vacated table, placing it between him and Cop. Your seat. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

  Decision time. You’re hovering on the brink of something unfamiliar. But the way they’re watching you in the dark restaurant, silent among the low hum of conversation, bass pumping from the speakers around you…it places one foot in front of the other until you’re sitting between these two vastly different, outrageously sexy men, their energy and focus branding you the moment you’re seated.

  Cop wraps his knuckles on the table, a quick punctuation, making your stomach flip like a tossed-up quarter. “I don’t do this. I don’t share.”

  “You’re still here, though. Aren’t you?” Biker rolls his tongue around his mouth, watching Cop, even as his tattooed hand glides over your knee and holds, massaging with such possession, your pulse beats in a thick, winding manner. “I’d say you’ve been working around the clock. Haven’t had time for a woman in a good, long while.” His attention returns to your heating face. “And then this hot, young girl walks in, legs for miles, looking like she’d be so fucking sweet on your tongue… and you decide sharing might be worth finding out how she tastes beneath her panties. Sound about right?”

  You watch the pulse at the base of Cop’s neck tickticktick, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watches Biker’s hand smooth up your thigh, stopping just beneath your dress. “Yes,” he rasps. “I want to know how she tastes. Right now.”

  Maintaining his grip on your thigh, Biker twines the fingers of his opposite hand in your hair, tilting your head back and exposing your neck. Right there in the restaurant. You can hear the hiccups in conversation around you, the quiet murmurs. But it’s all eclipsed by the lightning strike of lust in your tummy when Cop releases a shallow breath against your throat, licking up your sensitive flesh and ending with a growl behind your ear.

  “Oh, my God,” you whimper, squeezing your knees together.

  “Sometimes a woman needs two men,” Biker says, his voice like blue fire, fingers twisting in the strands of your hair, setting off a demanding pulse between your legs. “Sometimes it takes two men to worship a woman the way she deserves. And you, baby…you deserve that, even if God knows we don’t.” Cop shifts and you feel his erection against the outside of your thigh. Biker’s hand moves those final few inches until his fingertips brush your underwear. “What’s it going to be?” He whispers in your ear.

  “Will you let us idolize your cock-bait body one minute and fuck it like dirty dogs the next?”

  “Check please,” you manage.

  3

  Whoa. Buddy. That was THE most intense cab ride of your entire life. Not only because you were crammed in between two men who radiate heat like furnaces, their fingertips brushing up and down your legs, lips gliding over your bare shoulders, but because you’re pretty sure this is going to be the fastest orgasm of your life. Of anyone’s life, actually. At one point, you met the cab driver’s gaze in the rearview and swore he winked at you. As though you’d entered some alternate universe where everyone is in on a naughty secret…starring yours truly.

  After an equally tense elevator ride, you’ve let the clean-cut cop and rough-and-tumble biker into your apartment where—thank God—your roommate is not present and won’t be home until tomorrow night. Barely giving you a chance to set your keys down, Biker approaches from behind, drawing you back against his chest. You smell the leather of his jacket, the hint of tobacco and mint on his breath. His hands are the rougher of the two men, calloused from the handlebars of his bike. They abrade your wrists as he draws them back, securing them at the small of your back with a firm grip. His prisoner.

  Which is kind of ironic, since there’s a professional prisoner-taker on the scene and speaking of which…incoming. His boots tread heavily on the wood floor as he saunters close. Thud thud thud. Wait, that’s your pulse where it has decided to live inside your throat, beating mercilessly. Because you thought Cop was hot in the restaurant, but since entering your apartment, he has taken off his jacket, revealing bazookas for biceps and to say they are distracting is NOT an understatement, because they are battling against the huge erection in his jeans for your focus.

  Where do I look? What’s he going to do? What are THEY going to do?

  Behind you, Biker begins a concentrated attack on your neck, scoring the skin with his teeth, licking over the sore spots he creates as if you’re made of the world’s finest chocolate, groaning with every taste. You want to reach back and hold his head, keeping him at that deliciously sensitive spot behind your ear, but your hands are bound and he has no problem reminding you, tightening his hold with authority.

  The distance between you and Cop has finally vanished, but right before his lips lands on yours, he stops, breathing heavily less than an inch from your mouth. His powerful hands tease the hem of your dress, before he begins giving you a full-on massage, climbing the sides of your thighs with aggressive strokes of his thumbs.

  “Tell me something about you, sweet girl. Something that’ll help me fuck you right.”

  4

  “Tell me something about you, sweet girl. Something that’ll help me fuck you right.”

  Biker actually has to hold you up because that command from Cop steals the strength in your knees, but his laugh against your neck isn’t taunting, it’s gruff and admiring. Just to buy yourself some time to recover, you whisper, “You first,” to Cop, breaking off on a moan when his caressing hands find your hips beneath your dress and squeeze.

  Cop appears hesitant for a moment, but finally leans in and grazes your lips with his coarser, more mascul
ine ones, his stubble rasping on your chin. “With my job, I have a hard time getting anyone to stick around. Too many times I’ve gotten sucked into a job and…come home to find the place empty.”

  There is so much remorse in his deep timbre that sympathy makes your chest burn. As though Biker senses your sudden impulse to soothe, he allows you enough movement to go up on tiptoes and lean into Cop, taking his mouth in a slow, rhythmic skating of tongues, kicking up a storm of growls from both sides, both men, sending a vibrating hum through your already heightened senses.

  You sense the scales are imbalanced now that only one of these men has made a confession…and you don’t like that feeling. Don’t like the uneven breathing from Biker, as if maybe he’s built a head of steam, trying to convince himself he doesn’t want to share. But you can feel he does. It’s crazy, but you can. You’re the one who evens the weight between the three people in this room, aren’t you? Yes...you think you are…and no one will be left out. With an effort, you break Cop’s kiss and lean back, dropping your head onto Biker’s shoulder, finding his eyes molten, like melted down silver. “Now you. Tell us something about you.”

  Cop’s hands are still moving on your hips, making it hard to concentrate, but you focus with all your willpower as Biker’s sensual mouth—with a tiny scar bisecting the top lip—begins to move. “He has a hard time getting people to stick around,” Biker murmurs at your neck, nipping at your ear so unexpectedly, you whimper. “And I’m usually the one who can’t stick.”

  “Your turn, sweet girl,” Cop says, his hands going to your bottom…and you feel it…as Cop kneads your backside, Biker rubs his arousal against Cop’s busy hands, all while devouring your neck with open mouthed kisses. The by-the-book man you’re facing, the one who declared early he didn’t share, stiffens for just a moment. But he doesn’t pull away. No, he only abuses your bottom all the harder, pressing his forehead against yours and panting. Panting.

  You can hardly breathe, much less offer something useful about yourself, but as they press in on you, flattening you between their hard bodies, you hear yourself blurt in a rushed whisper, “My college boyfriend broke up with me last year and I keep screwing up dates. On purpose, maybe. I think. Case in point…tonight. Because I-I’m scared of being happy and still getting rejected.”

  Oh God. Oh GAWD, you’re going to die after admitting such a deep down secret, but instead of laughing at you, they bury their mouths in your hair, your neck, and whisper wonderful words. Cherishing words.

  Aw, baby. Such a sweet girl. His fucking loss. Going to make you feel so good. No one is rejecting anyone tonight. You won’t be thinking of anything but how we’re moving in and out of you. Christ, that mouth of yours…those legs...

  You and Cop groan into a kiss that makes your thoughts fuzzy as Biker urges the three of you toward the bedroom. When you stumble, Biker swings you up into his arms, growling when Cop attempts to steal you away, his jaw bunched, eyes challenging. After a stare down where all you can do is watch breathlessly, the men seem to reach some tacit agreement, Cop wrapping your hair around his fist, both of them holding some part of you as the bedroom looms closer…

  5

  Biker sets you down at the foot of your bed, but Cop doesn’t unwind his fist from your hair, keeping your head tipped back so far you can see the familiar crack in the ceiling. With Cop’s broad chest on one side of you, Biker’s on the other, they crowd in, eyeballing each other over your upturned face

  “How do we decide who gets to lick her pussy?” Cop grounds out. “We both want it.”

  “No argument there,” Biker says, resting his lips on your temple. “She hasn’t kept her hips still for a second since we left the restaurant. I bet it’s wet all over.”

  Cop groans so loud, an answering sound leaves your mouth, your legs dipping again, both men moving quickly to hold you upright. “This seems like a premature conversation when I’m still wearing all my clothes,” you mutter, pride stinging a little at the effect they’re having on your motor skills.

  Biker delivers one of those amused laughs into your hair. “Now I can’t decide if I want to use my tongue to stroke your clit.” His hand slides between your legs, cupping your core possessively. “Or if I want to sink my cock into your smart mouth.”

  BOTH PLEASE, you think of crying out, but manage to refrain. And then you’re distracted by Cop’s hands on the bodice of your dress, his blunt fingers undoing your buttons one…by…one, before he peels the garment down and exposes your strapless black bra and—

  Both of their chests begin heaving, two sets of eyes making prey out of your flesh, blazing over your breasts, hips, thighs and leaving lava in their wake. Cop attacks the front clasp of your bra, sending your breasts bouncing free and that’s when they both go a little nuts. Biker rubs his palm against the juncture of your thighs once more, then tears the underwear from your body. You’re still reeling from the unexpectedness of that move when Cop dips down and surges forward, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, cheeks hollowing, eyes closing tight as if he’s savoring the taste.

  But Cop is distracted when the sound of Biker unbuckling his belt fills the room. Cop bares his teeth against your nipple, jaw going tight, before straightening to unfasten his own pants. The two men gravitate together, a heady combination of animosity and interest crackling in the air between them. Without warning, Biker slides his hand into the opening of Cop’s jeans, grasping what can only be the other man’s arousal, and any doubt is erased when Cop makes a choked sound.

  “Be gentle with her pussy for now,” says Biker, leaning over to kiss your lips, a wet, languid dream that makes you sway forward. “Oh, yeah. She’s going to beg for it hard and fast, but we’re finishing her together. We on the same page?”

  You’re actually worried Cop might take a swing at Biker, his body is so rigid with tension, obviously a man not accustom to taking orders. Or being touched intimately by a member of the same sex. Instead, however, he snakes a hand through Biker’s open fly, his forearm flexing as he takes hold of the other man’s erection, and he isn’t easy about it if Biker’s wince is any indication. “Yeah, we’re on the same page,” Cop rasps. “You go easy on her mouth while I’m getting my fill, though. If I hear her choke or see her try to tap out, I’ll break you in half.”

  After a tight nod, they release one another, Biker moving past you while stripping off his shirt, shoving down his pants and sitting on the bed’s edge. You hear cop rummaging in your nearby closet, but you’re distracted by Biker’s incredible body. His pierced nipples could have been lost in the riotous pattern of his tattoos if they didn’t wink in the lamplight. Your gaze meanders down the swirling blue ink until it lands on his erection, thick and beautiful where it lays on his stomach. His dangerous smirk beckons you forward, but before you can fall to your knees between Biker’s thighs, Cop jerks your hips back against his naked lap.

  Two thuds on the ground reveal what he was retrieving from your closet. That red pair of five-inch heels you’ve never had the courage to wear.

  “Step into them and spread your legs,” Cop instructs gruffly in your ear. “I’m too tall…and you’re too petite to get a good mouth fucking from behind. Not unless we lift your gorgeous ass a little.” His hands smooth over the backside in question. “Okay, sweet girl?”

  “Sounds reasonable,” you breathe, unable to get into the high heels fast enough. With the soft leather encasing your feet, the spike heels making your legs feel twice as long—not to mention two men watching you like predators—you’ve never felt sexier in your life. Ever.

  Biker crooks a finger at you, Cop’s steady hand pressing between your shoulder blades. Following their unspoken instructions, you bend forward and take Biker’s erection into your mouth, reveling in the silk strength of him, the urgency of his fingers in your hair, his strangled moans that increase in volume the deeper you take him. The way his stomach shudders, thighs jerking wider, hips restless. It makes you want to take every inch of him in
to your mouth and you do. You take him all.

  “Jesus,” Biker growls. “Get your tongue out and tell me how her pussy tastes. God knows she’s earning it. Lick her little clit until she moans around my cock.”

  You feel Cop’s hands drag roughly down the backs of your thighs, hear his knees hit the ground. He takes hold of your backside with an admiring sound, shoving it high, then his mouth suctions onto your slick flesh. As if sensing you need the support, Biker braces your shoulders with his hands, his hips lifting off the bed in sensual rolls, sinking his length into your mouth as Cop’s tongue skates toward your clit and flickers there—onetwothreefourfive—before he sinks in and sucks the bud with relish, groaning so loudly in his throat it emerges like thunder.

  Oh God. Cop’s mouth is magic, but it’s his aggressive tasting, sucking, like he can’t ever get enough that makes your thighs start to tremble with an oncoming climax. You sob around Biker’s pulsing arousal, because the tide is rising, rising, but he tangles a hand in your hair and drags you away from his lap.

  “That’s enough,” Biker pants. “She’s coming. And if you think you’re not a sharer, you don’t want to know what happens when you’re the only one who gets her off.”

  “Fuck,” Cop grates against the inside of your thigh. “Never licked one this hot. Haven’t even put my tongue in her yet and she’s whining like she’s taking a cock.”

  “Makes you wonder how she’ll sound taking two. Doesn’t it?” Biker leans forward and devours your mouth with a hard, thorough kiss, taking your bottom lip with him when he pulls away, letting it go with a pop. “Baby, we need to fuck you now.” Behind you, Cop comes to his feet, but not before he drags his tongue up the center of your backside, giving it a light slap. “You have two men in your bedroom, their dicks aching like a motherfucker for what you hide in your panties all day. So we’re going to share your beautiful body until our dicks don’t hurt anymore. And you, baby, are going to come like nobody’s business while we’re at it, because you deserve that and more.” Another kiss, slow and wet. “Anything off limits?”