Dangerous Boys and Their Toy

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Dangerous Boys and Their Toy Page 13

by Shayla Black


  teeth.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  Before Cam answered, he guided Thorn back to Brenna’s waiting pussy. She was just as tight, and now even more aroused so that he felt every bit of her all around him. The memory of that solid hand touching him in all the right places pushed him so close to orgasm.

  “She was going to cross the finish line before you,” Cam explained. “So I helped you along.”

  And how…

  Thorn was as straight as a guy could be, but…wow. Cam’s touch had felt damn good—way too good for his peace of mind.

  And then he wasn’t thinking of anything as the detective’s mouth covered Brenna’s clit again. He sucked, she screamed, Thorn pushed in frantically against her pulsing walls—then the explosion came.

  Huge. The thing was of mythical proportions. The feats of the Greek gods weren’t nearly as amazing as this. The orgasm shot down his spine, burned and churned between his legs…then burst all the sensation through his body like a supernova spewing matter through the universe.

  Oh. Holy. Fuck.

  Long moments later, spent, he sagged over the damp skin of Brenna’s back.

  “Are you okay?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

  He kissed her shoulder. Damn amazing woman. She’d just been tag teamed by two horny guys—twice in the last eight hours—and she worried about him. She’d cooked for him too. That slight Texas drawl was sweet, the equivalent of sugar for his dick.

  “Fine, baby. You?”

  She just hummed and let her body go even more limp.

  And then there was Cam. Their…contact had not been strictly heterosexual. Hell, Thorn would make pulp of the asshole’s face who suggested otherwise. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been affected by Cam’s hands on his balls last night or stroking his dick just minutes ago. Even the thought, and interest stirred down south.

  “As much fun as this party has been, I’m going to need a little relief,” the detective said through gritted teeth.

  Yeah, if he hadn’t already come, he’d be a raving lunatic by now.

  Thorn withdrew from Brenna’s sweet body and sat on the couch, removing the condom. He tugged Brenna down on his lap, and she curled up against him, her head on his shoulder.

  “Can you suck him, baby?” Thorn whispered in her ear. “He’s in a bad way.”

  She didn’t answer. At all. Her deep, even breathing told him what had happened.

  A moment later, Cam confirmed it. “She’s asleep. Leave her be.”

  “What about you?” Thorn frowned.

  “You offering to help me?” With a grimace, Cam began to stroke his long length in slow motions. The pad of his thumb led the slow stroke up the inches of his cock, pressing into the sensitive spot where the shaft and the head joined before gliding back down.

  Thorn could barely tear his gaze away. It was another guy, stroking his own meat. Normally, that would be just fucking nasty to him. But something about watching Cam leisurely ramp up his pleasure was getting to him. Already his own dick was starting to stir.

  “Like you helped me?” He injected a sneer in his voice.

  “Like that.”

  “Dude, you’re making a move on me?”

  Cam lifted his huge, muscled shoulders in a shrug. “She’s asleep, and doing this shit to yourself isn’t that fun… You’re the only other person here.”

  He sounded so casual, like it was no big deal to him whether another guy touched his dick or not. Then again, to him, maybe it wasn’t.

  “Are you gay?”

  Cameron laughed and rolled his eyes. “No. I’m open-minded.”

  Now what the hell did that mean? He swung both ways? “You ever fucked a guy?”

  “Once.” No hesitation, no looking away, no embarrassment. “In college.”

  Thorn was weirded out by the answer. He was, right? Of course. For the most part. But another part of him… “If it was only once, it must have been awful.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. It was just different.” Again, he shrugged, still stroking his cock. “I was into women and still am. I was just curious to see how the other team played.”

  Thorn tried not to be distracted, tried to focus just on what Cam was saying, but the sight of that hand slowly, slowly stroking his cock was hard to look away from.

  “But you never did it again?”

  “Haven’t had the right opportunity, right person. I might never have that again. I love women, so it’s cool.”

  He loved women too. If he had his way, women would always be like a glass of water to him—six to eight a day for good health. Yet watching Cam rub a thumb over the purple head of his dick and soothe the long shaft in his broad palm over and over had him hard once more.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Until this moment, he’d never thought about how the other team played, and he didn’t want to play for them now. But Cam made him just a little bit curious…

  Suddenly, the detective tensed, shuddered, moaned. He picked up speed, his hand rubbing his length faster, his palm gripping tighter.

  Thorn was glued to the show. Brenna shifted in his lap, and he absently petted her back and hip as she slept. But he wasn’t hard because he had his arms full of sated woman. It was all the visual spectacle of Cam masturbating.

  “The idea doesn’t repulse you,” Cam asserted with a pointed glance at Thorn’s hard cock.

  He followed that by savage strokes of his hand over his flesh. The head turned more purple. Cam’s breathing hitched. The muscles of his thighs stood out. He was getting closer, Thorn knew. And still he couldn’t look away.

  “It should. Normally, it would.”

  “But you want to see me come.” It wasn’t a question.

  Thorn’s arms tightened around Brenna. He hesitated, not wanting to answer. In his head, he heard the Final Jeopardy music. Cam was waiting for an answer.

  With the last mental boing, Thorn blurted, “Yeah.”

  “I’m private,” Cam whispered. “Normally I wouldn’t do this. But sharing Brenna made everything different for me. I don’t think we’re done with her.”

  Or necessarily with each other.

  The unspoken words hung in the air.

  A hot chill raced up Thorn’s spine. He was terrified, horny and weirded out all at once. But the overload of emotions wasn’t enough to stop the freight train from barreling down the track.

  “Finish it. I want to watch.”

  Cam gave him a shaky nod, then his fist began pounding his cock. His biceps flexed, the veins in his hand stood out as his cock swelled and his balls drew up to his body. Those Native American cheekbones flushed with arousal. The little buttons of his nipples drew up into tight pinpoints.

  Without thinking, Thorn reached out and scraped the bud of his finger over Cam’s nipple.

  As if it was the trigger for a cataclysm, Cam’s head jerked back and he let out a massive roar. Hot seed jetted out, spilling all over his thighs.

  And for some reason, that was one of the most mesmerizing things Thorn had ever witnessed. What the hell was that about?

  * * * * *

  Brenna woke to the sun midway up the morning sky and a blanket tucked around her on the sofa. She blinked, sat up. Cam’s house. She let out a relieved breath. Safe.

  The detective shuffled half dressed around the kitchen. God, he was incredible to look at. Dark and poster-worthy, bronze skin over the rippling, well-worked muscle of his back, that nearly black hair just brushing the tops of his bulging shoulders… He made her wet just standing there, his biceps visibly flexing as he fried bacon. The scene was so domestic, yet he would never be strictly domesticated.

  But it wasn’t just his appearance that drew her. Last night, she’d glimpsed his understanding, felt the care in his touch. The exterior might be badass detective, and he, no doubt, intimidated his fair share of criminals, but under all that was a really decent guy. He wasn’t the kind of man who would father a chil
d and leave her on his sister’s doorstep, never to return. He not only shouldered responsibility, he took it completely onto his back without so much as a shrug. Maybe that’s what she’d responded to last night, what had allowed her to orgasm.

  She swallowed. “Can I help?”

  He sent her a smile—the real deal—eyes crinkling in the corners. “Sit. You already cooked breakfast once, which no one got to eat. I’ll see if we fare better with brunch.”

  A sound behind her alerted her, and she whipped her gaze around. Thorn emerging from the master bathroom, freshly showered. Bare-chested, he was also drool worthy. Powerful golden shoulders undulating, abs rippling, with every swipe of his towel through his damp hair, Thorn was totally male. He didn’t just wear a don’t-fuck-with-me mantle, he epitomized it. And yet…those little glimpses of tenderness peeked through.

  “You okay, baby?”

  Brenna nodded, feeling tears sting her eyes.

  Since she’d fallen asleep on his lap, she was certain he’d been the one to cover her with the cozy blanket. Normally, she hated being called baby, but something about the way he said it now… He wasn’t immune to her, just like she wasn’t to him. But he screamed temporary. She had little doubt that the time they had left together could be measured in hours, yet her body had willingly come for him. Why?

  Being with the guys was breaking down the tough-girl barriers she’d erected to protect her heart and revealing her soft underside she couldn’t hide from them. Thorn needed her tenderness, and she couldn’t not respond to Cam with utter emotional honesty.

  If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall for them.

  With the two of them sandwiching her, she felt protected. They’d proved they would take care of her this morning, saving her from the would-be abductors. Men after her because they wanted to know where her father was. Because they wanted to kill him? She had a million questions and almost no answers.

  “Chow is ready,” Cameron called.

  As he passed the couch, Thorn held out his hand to her. Brenna took it and got to her feet, meeting the direct stare he leveled her way. Something was going on in his head, but she couldn’t tell exactly what from his weighty expression. He’d be a hard one to get to spill his secrets, she’d bet. He’d have to trust, and like her, she’d bet he didn’t do that easily.

  It was crazy to hope that, someday, he would feel free to tell her anything…everything. But she still hoped as she placed her hand in his and squeezed.

  “I could swear I have a hole in my stomach.” Thorn’s belly rumbled on cue, and he rubbed a huge hand over his ribbed abdomen. “You wear me out, baby.”

  Ditto in double for her. Despite this morning’s scare, every limb in her body felt loose, every muscle relaxed.

  Hand in hand, she and Thorn made their way to the table. Cam pulled out a chair, and when she approached it, he drew his arm around her and bent to her, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to her mouth. Warmth glowed inside her at the casual ease of his affection. What would it be like to have someone so clearly caring in her life who wasn’t a blood relative and didn’t love you because they felt obligated?

  Behind her, Thorn’s hand tightened on hers. He edged closer. Shockingly, he was hard again. Cam sidled closer and nudged her lips apart with his own. She stood on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck. Surprise, surprise. She could feel his erection beneath the loose gray sweatpants he’d donned.

  Someone massaged her back, rubbing their way down with soothing strokes until they cupped her ass. Cam. Thorn was busy working his hands around her waist, up her rib cage…and fondling her breasts with their sore little nipples. They weren’t the only thing sore, and, what do you know? She was getting wet anyway.

  Talk about an alternate universe. For someone who hadn’t bothered with men and sex in years, suddenly she’d gorged on two—and apparently wasn’t sated yet. She’d had a bad-girl reputation in high school for sleeping around, looking for that elusive orgasm. But she’d never really lived up to that reputation until now.

  Thorn gave her nipple another brush and whispered against her neck. “I’ve never had to make such a tough choice between my belly and my dick.”

  Cam laughed. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

  Brenna sat, Thorn beside her, and Cam brought bacon, hash browns, fresh fruit, eggs and tortillas. He set a jar of salsa in the middle of the table.

  She stared at it, then at him. “What’s that for?”

  “Breakfast burritos.” The detective smiled, showing a dimple in one cheek. “Everything’s better with salsa.”

  “Yeah, if you want to burn your taste buds off before noon,” Thorn quipped. “I’ve eaten lunch with this guy before. If the food doesn’t make him sweat, he’s not happy.”

  “Scandinavian-bred pussy won’t even try the salsa.”

  Thorn suggested to Cam that he try something both trite and anatomically impossible.

  As they all dug in and began to eat, questions began to whirl through her head. Where was her father? He had to be alive, or the goons this morning wouldn’t have come for her. But what sort of trouble was he in? He’d been offered immunity for his testimony, Cam had said. But what black things had he done?

  The guys were silent, slaves to shoving in calories. Brenna knew she should eat a few more bites, suspecting—and hoping—she’d need the energy later.

  “What’s wrong?” Cam asked between enormous bites of food.

  “Those men this morning…they want to kill my father.”

  Cam hesitated, shot Thorn a glance. Brenna noticed that the bounty hunter gave a quick nod.

  He nodded back. “You should know what you’re up against. Your father worked for Julio Marco. They were in the business of smuggling in illegal aliens across the Mexico-Arizona border, then turning into slaves.”

  “I got that from the paper, but slaves? Real-life slaves?”

  “Anything from servants, to sweatshop workers to prostitutes.”

  “My father promised these people safe passage across the border, then imprisoned them and forced them to…” Horror seeped through her. What kind of man did that make him? Then again, what kind of man abandoned his baby by leaving her with a woman she’d never met?

  Cam laid a hand over hers. “I know he smuggled them in and he knew, at least roughly, what was happening after that. But exactly, no. Marco wouldn’t allow that. He’s the ringleader and the asshole we really want behind bars. Your father is just a hired gun who paid attention. He has critical information, and when I arrested him, he promised to sing like a bird if we cut him slack. The State District Attorney agreed to the deal, we took his sworn statement, and we told him to lie low. I’m not supposed to know this but the Feds were talking about Witness Protection, so I’m thinking he made them the same deal.”

  And the trial started in five days. Brenna swallowed.

  “Before all the deals were done, he called me to bail his ass out of jail,” Thorn groused. “I need to find him. I’m not interested in being out fifty K. My brother told me not to take his bond…”

  “I can’t look all the victims of this scam in the eye if I don’t bring your dad into testify. I promised them justice, and I can’t not deliver.”

  “Can you help us find him, baby?”

  After hearing the vile things her father had been up to, she didn’t think she owed him silence. He’d warned her about dirty cops being after him, but Cam was no more a dirty cop than she was a lumberjack.

  “Like I said before, all I have is a cell phone number. He never answers it. I always leave a message. Sometimes he calls back…”

  Sometimes he didn’t. With their grim nods, it was clear Cam and Thorn got the message.

  “Would you try him now?” Cam asked. “I think you should tell

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