Double Booked, Page 2

  Before you can answer, Cop’s hand wedges in the split of your bottom and you know what they’re asking. You’re eager for it. Eager to experience something new, no matter how nervous it makes you. These men make you feel safe, cherished, and you trust your gut. “Nothing off limits,” you breathe, pushing your backside into Cop’s touch and getting his mouth on your neck as a reward, resonating hums of gratitude from both men.

  A few beats of time pass as Cop and Biker communicate without words over your shoulder, intention in every line of their hard bodies. You’re beginning to get anxious about what they’re deciding, when Biker stands, circling around behind you—his pierced nipples cool where they slide against your arm—Cop brushing along your opposite arm, raising goosebumps on your skin, head to toe. You hear Biker going through your bedside table as Cop takes his place on the bed’s edge, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth while he looks you over.

  “I can see you want to take this cock for a ride, sweet girl. Can see you want to ride it rough and that’s just how I like it.” His fist pumps between his legs, up and down, thumb swiping over the head. “Climb on up here and get filled.”

  Biker moves up behind you, dropping what he found in your drawer onto the bed, also known as the small bottle of lubricant that came free with your online-purchased vibrator. You’re way too turned on to be shy about having it there, especially when Biker and Cop exchange another look, rife with heat, approval, anticipation. And when Biker tangles his hand in your hair, urging you toward Cop, heat gathers at your center like melted wax, encompassing every sensitive spot. “He’s a big boy, isn’t he?” Biker says gruffly against your neck. “I bet he grits his teeth and roars when he comes, all those veins on his muscles standing out. Mmm. You’re going to be the reason for that. For both of us.”

  Cop grasps you around the waist and jerks you closer, but you’re already moving, straddling him on the bed. Your mouths meet in slick, seeking kiss, his hand between your thighs as he guides his erection home, slipping the tip inside. Holding his shoulders for balance, you press down, your moan building and building the deeper he reaches. Biker’s hands are on your bottom, helping guide you, even giving an assertive push when you’re having a hard time taking the final few inches. And then you’re fully seated and you’re dying, dying, because he’s beating inside you, stretching your flesh, and the man himself is cursing a blue streak against your lips.

  “Ah fuck, you should see her. I barely fit and her eyes are still begging for more. Lively little thing with your crammed-up pussy, aren’t you?” Cop rolls his hips and you let loose a strangled cry, sharp pleasure spearing your middle. “I don’t know if I can let someone else have her now. I found this city’s best kept secret hiding underneath a skirt tonight, didn’t I?” He growls low in his throat. “Maybe I want her all to myself.”

  Biker picks up the bottle and you hear him empty some of the liquid into his hand. “You know goddamn well you want to watch me take her from the back.” His fingers are slippery as they find the area in question, spreading the wetness everywhere, before gently easing the tip of his index finger inside. “You want to feel her pussy get even tighter when she tenses up on me. Those little whimpers when she’s not sure if she can handle what I’ve got.” His voice goes deep, like crimson velvet. “Hell, you want to watch me enjoy her, too. Want to know how I look fucking, whether you admit it or not.”

  Before Biker’s speech is even over, Cop begins to move hypnotically, upthrusting as you ride, his mouth falling open at the exquisite torture you’re both experiencing. Your legs can’t get any wider but you try, you try, because he’s huge, wickedly sexy with sweat dotting his face, his flexing chest, and you want all of him. Cop’s gaze holds yours and doesn’t waver as your pace goes wild, your hips bucking. The orgasm you’ve been dying for since the restaurant is bearing down so fast, you barely notice Biker has his finger fully inside you now, gliding in and out as he kisses your neck, words of praise filling your ear. You sure as hell notice when he adds a second finger, however, even if the sensation isn’t totally unpleasant. Nothing is unpleasant enough to stop what you’re doing, because Cop is watching you with total awe and moving in a determined, grinding way that ensures your clit is worshiped with every powerful lift of his hips.

  You’re so close…ridiculously close…stomach and thigh muscles contracting, when Cop falls back on the bed, bringing you with him, your breasts flattening on his chest.

  “Christ. She’s about to go off already,” Cop groans, his face a mask of misery and brutal, male ecstasy. “Take her ass now, before I change my mind. Believe me, I’d love to flip her over, put her legs in the air and give her all my come.”

  Biker’s hand smoothes up your spine, his thumb massaging the nape of your neck. “Baby, this is the part where we turn into dirty dogs and fuck you accordingly. Are you ready for that?”

  You’re hovering in the space between reality and a different stratosphere, heartbeat slamming in your ears, breath rattling in your throat. Pleasure is thick and inescapable, waiting to grab you, take you under. “Yes,” you push past parched lips, your body undulating on top of Cop, meeting his commanding drives, every inch of his sweaty sinew sliding, bumping, luxuriating against your curves. “Yes,” you say louder.

  There’s pressure now, along with the promise of release. Heavy pressure. So heavy, you feel it in your neck and you cry out, but Cop surges up, kissing you with so much passion, it distracts you, reminds you of the incredible sensations curling around your clit, building in your tummy. You’re caught in a tug of war between the ache where Biker pushes into the untried back entrance of your body and the deluge of incredible pleasure Cop is giving you. And then something incredible happens…so incredible, a flash goes off in front of your eyes, your jaw going slack. The pleasure and pain join forces and pummel you, ripping the breath straight out of your lungs with a scream.

  “Shhh, baby.” Biker’s voice is uneven and coarse in your ear. “I’m in. I’m in and you’re a fucking dream, so snug and sweet. I haven’t even pumped yet and I’m already addicted to this little ass. So you’re going to get used to me, aren’t you? Because I’m a fiend now and that’s not going to change.”

  Cop’s thrusts are growing disjointed beneath you where he works, works, works your sensitized nub, robbing you of reason and space and time. “It can’t be any hotter than this pussy. She’s got me in a fucking strangle hold.”

  “You getting ready to come?” Biker asks in a rush.

  “Yes,” you and Cop moan at the same time, but your answer ends in a sob when Biker pulls halfway out and drives back in, shouting a curse that echoes throughout your bedroom. Your head. The pain has turned into a smarting ache, but the more he moves, aided by the ample wetness, the more it lessens.

  Biker’s voice cracks, his arms shaking where they prop him up on either side of you and knowing how much pleasure you’re providing to both men is an aphrodisiac. And you think of nothing but that and the lust rocketing through your midsection. They do become dogs, Biker falling on top of you, sandwiching your body between two heaving slabs of muscle that thrust, thrust, thrust into your body, snarls and expletives going off like fireworks in the surrounding air.

  “You like that, sweet girl?” Cop says, baring his teeth against your mouth. “You like being a cute little fuck toy for two men?”

  “She does. Look at her, spreading her legs so wide for us. She wants it every night…and fuck if I’ll be able to stay away now that I’ve had her.” A guttural groan. “I can’t hang on any more. I’m done, dammit.”

  “Thank God,” Cop rasps, his pumps speeding up, his head falling back to expose the strained cords of his throat a second before heat floods you from all sides. From the men, yourself. The climax is so full, so complex in its division of good and bad, you bury your face in Cop’s chest and scream through it, your body shaking out of control, your body bucking mindlessly, trying to capture the outrageous feeling and keep it contained, even thou
gh you know its impossible. Impossible.

  Almost as impossible as this bright, undeniable connection you feel to both men.

  6

  You wake up to the smell of coffee and buttermilk pancakes. For a moment, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering if last night was a dream. Then you sit up. Ooh. Not a dream. Pushing aside the covers, you get up slowly, making a stop in the bathroom to shower, brush your teeth and throw on your yoga clothes, before entering the kitchen—and whoa. Now you’re doubly reassured that two big, uber-masculine dudes spent the night in your bed, because they’re moving around your kitchen like they own the place, pouring orange juice and doctoring coffee. For you, apparently, if the way their energy changes when you come into view is any indication. They’ve been waiting. And it’s clear there is a discussion to be had.

  Cop sidles up beside Biker, nudging him with an elbow. “That tank top she’s wearing is too tight. Do we want her going out like that?”

  “Hell no,” Biker rumbles into his coffee. “Want her covered.”

  Your eyebrows lift all by themselves. “Excuse me?”

  Without answering, Cop goes to the stove, using the spatula in his hand to serve up two pancakes, smearing butter and pouring syrup on top in such perfect proportions, your stomach growls. Biker comes forward and leads you to be table, parking you on his lap. Cop takes the seat to your left—and he literally starts to feed you bites, all while Biker plants soft kisses on the back of your neck.

  You’re trying to decide whether the whole scenario is ridiculous...or if you should just stop thinking and enjoy the ride, when Cop speaks up. “We’ve been talking, sweet girl.”

  Are you moaning because of the pancakes or because Biker just found that sensitive spot behind your ear? Noideawhocares. “I kind of picked up on that. What about?”

  “You,” Biker breathes. “We want more. We want all. Permanently.” Gravity infiltrates his tone. “And for me, that’s saying a lot.”

  Warmth tumbles in your belly...and something else. Relief? It might be insane, but the idea of never seeing these two men again seems unacceptable, but you were afraid to let yourself hope. “What would more entail?”

  Cop pushes aside the empty plate, and as if the three of you are moving in a choreographed dance, Biker turns your chair to face Cop, who slides his hands up your thighs while Biker keeps on worshiping your neck. “First, you have to decide. Is this something you want?” His thumbs trace circles inches from your core and you melt back against Biker’s chest. “We’re not going to be easy,” Cop continues. “Or even reasonable.”

  “Turns out we’re more alike than we thought,” Biker murmurs, closing his teeth around your ear lobe. “Who knew?”

  Your eyelids float down, images from last night playing out in scorching, moving memories. Right now, you can’t imagine never experiencing that kind of physical euphoria again, but it’s more than that. You want to know these men better. The protective, overworked cop. The mysterious biker who can’t commit...until now. “Yes...this is something I want.” Your eyes open to find Cop moving closer, his eyes fixated on your mouth. “How will it work?”

  Tension seems to leak from both men, Biker dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a whispered thank fuck. “We have a few ground rules,” Biker says, after a few beats pass. “First off, we want all your online dating accounts closed. And we want them closed yesterday.”

  “No. Men. Only us,” Cop says directly against your mouth. “You’re a goddamn beauty, so they’re going to try and get close to what’s ours. So if they don’t back off when you say no?”

  “We’ll want names, so we can handle it our way,” Biker finishes, his voice hard. “Non- negotiable.”

  “No other men,” you agree with a slow nod, earning you two growls of appreciation. “No other women for you, either, though.”

  Cop and Biker trade a comical glance, their scoffs nearly identical. “We’ve been inside your body, baby,” Biker groans into the curve of your neck and shoulder. “We’ve tasted the best. Come inside of her. Now there’s nothing and no one else.”

  “We’re only pissed we didn’t find you sooner,” Cop says, cupping his hand around the juncture of your thighs, massaging with total possession.

  Biker hums, rolling his hips beneath your bottom. “There’s one more rule, ‘kay, baby?”

  “What is it?” You ask, ready to have your clothes torn off, no matter what. Soreness be damned, you want the same bliss from last night to take you under. Want them to come under with you.

  Cop and Biker share a look. “We’re not ready to let you be with only one of us alone. Not yet. Not until we can trust each other not to try and steal you for himself,” Biker almost hisses the last word, the need to possess evident in his voice. “That means you’ll take both of us. Every time. If one of us is late or working, we wait. Until...if...we start to trust.” Biker’s touch finds your core, joining Cop’s hand in its rhythmic, sensual rubbing, both of them starting to breathe heavy, along with you. “You’re going to be tender here a lot. There will be nights when we’ll both need more than one turn with this sweet spot.”

  Cop’s thumb finds your clit through the thin nylon of your yoga pants, joining you in a moan as the digit moves in a circle. “You took us so fucking perfect last night. Better than a fantasy,” Cop rasps, licking the seam of your lips. “If you let us keep you, we’re going to be a couple of guard dogs biting anyone who gets too close, but we’ll make you happy. We’ll soothe you after bad days and keep you safe.”

  “Tell us that’s what you want,” Biker instructs...and they both hold their breath. “Ye—”

  They don’t even let you utter the single word before Biker eases you to your knees on the floor, running comforting fingers through your hair. Both of them stand and begin to unzip their pants with hasty movements, breathing shallow. On either side of you, their heavy flesh is revealed, desperately in need of relief. From you. Only you.

  Cop runs a thumb over your bottom lip. “Say yes again where we can feel it.” You don’t make it to yoga that day. Then again, who the hell needs it anymore?

  Epilogue

  Your apartment has been robbed. Doesn't sleeping with a badass cop and an outlaw biker preclude you from this kind of nonsense? Apparently whoever swiped your flat screen and laptop didn't get the memo. Truth be told, you're a little shaken up after walking in and discovering your place in shambles. After placing a call to 911, you texted Cop and Biker and now, with two uniforms milling around your kitchen, you watch the door waiting for them to arrive.

  And as always, they arrive with a vengeance.

  Cop nearly rips your door off the hinges to get inside, ignoring the other uniforms. It's the middle of winter, but sweat dots his brow, darkens the front of his uniform shirt. You don't have a chance to eek out a greeting before he scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, setting you down just inside the door.

  "Shit, baby. Tell me you're okay." He chokes on a swallow. "When I heard your address on the scanner..."

  "I'm fine." Oh crap. Sometimes when you're frustrated, your emotions get the better of you and Cop's dependable presence is pushing you to the edge. "I'm...I just..."

  He crushes you to his husky chest, filling your nose with intoxicating eau de male. Adrenaline joins forces with lust to turn you on big time. Before you can stop yourself, you're unzipping his uniform pants, your breath releasing in shallow gusts.

  But he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

  "The fucking rules." His gaze feasts on your breasts, his tongue drenching his lower lip. Frustration radiates from his big body. "I can't touch you unless he's here."

  "There was unsaved work on my laptop." You bat your eyelashes. "Can't we make an exception for a tragedy?"

  With a growl rumbling in his throat, he backs you up into the dresser. "You don't think I want to fuck that shaken up look off your face?" His hands flex over your breasts but he doesn't touch. "I want to so bad, but if I walked in here and caugh
t him between your legs without me, there'd be a second reason to call the police."

  You're so hot and needy at this point, a scream builds in your throat. "I'll give him extra attention later?"

  Cop's expression darkens. "Can't have that, either."

  "I wouldn't mind it," Biker rasps to your right. He kicks the bedroom door shut and approaches you slowly. "There better not be a fucking scratch on you or I'll tear this city apart to find whoever put it there."

  "She's not hurt." Cop and Biker trade a look that's heavy with relief. With possessiveness. "But she's hurting."

  "I'm hurting," you whisper. "A lot a lot."

  Biker slides in between you and the dresser, slicking his tongue up the side of your neck. And Cop finally gives in, molding your breasts in his huge hands.

  "I want to push these hot tits together and fuck right down the middle," Cop grits.

  "Good." Biker's middle finger pushes past your lips, pumping in and out. "I'll take her mouth."

  "Hallelujah," is the last coherent word you utter before you're face up on the bed, being stripped down and swarmed by two starved males. “Have I mentioned I love you guys?”

  They go still.

  “Do you?” asks Biker, intensity radiating from his hard body.

  Your chest constricts and you can’t keep the truth inside. “Yes. Both of you. So much.”

  Cop’s body aligns hard to yours. “Marry us,” he says against your ear and you feel something smooth and cool push down on your ring finger. “Marry us and…”