Saved Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by R. M. Walker

  “So how much did you get?” I ask casually. I turn to face the rest of my men, my back against Mas’s chest, and his arms around my waist. When the boys merely furrow their brows, I let out an exaggerated sigh. A bunch of dumbasses, I tell you. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have even come up with this idea. “Money? Dough? Cash? Coinage? Spondulicks? Greenbacks? How much?”

  “A couple million,” Frost answers. Despite his icy disposition, I can see the heat in his eyes.

  The man likes to watch. Seeing me in his leader’s arms is a major turn-on for the kinky shit.

  “Enough for that vacation I promised you,” Mas whispers in my ear. Delighted goosebumps erupt on my skin at his proximity.

  “I suppose we’ll have to celebrate,” I reply. I attempt to keep my voice low and sultry. Sexy, almost. Did I succeed? Probably not. That didn’t matter when all four guys were staring at me as if I were the most beautiful woman who had ever existed.

  “What will that celebration entail?” Blaze asks. His hand is already inching towards the waistband of his pants.

  “Ice cream?” I ask innocently.

  His hands pause, an adorably confused expression crossing his face. “Um…”

  “Or…” I move out of Mas’s embrace and towards the opened bedroom door. The bed displayed there has a dark blue bedspread and is easily capable of fitting six people. Fortunately, we only need it to fit five.

  “Or?” Frost asks.

  The guys move to follow me into the room, their eyes fixated on me with rapt interest. Their pupils dilate until they nearly consume their irises. Feeling powerful and sexy, I unzip my dress and allow it to pool around my feet. Four intakes of breath answer my eloquent statement.

  Standing in the room, in only my lacy panties and a bra, I cock my head to the side. “So are we celebrating or what?”

  Chapter Four

  You want to know what’s sexy?

  Laying spread eagle across a bed.

  Do you want to know what’s completely unsexy?

  Laying spread eagle across a bed and not having one of your boyfriends make a move on you. I swear I hear crickets chirp. Cobwebs collect in my aching vagina. And yes, I am using the word vagina. It is a good representation of how unsexy this moment is.

  “Seriously?” I ask, annoyance tinging my voice. I lift my head up to face the four idiots. Instead of jumping at the opportunity to lavish me with love—literally jumping, I mean… I’m talking scrambling over each other like mountain climbers to get a taste of my goods—they remain standing in the center of the room. Gaping. Watching.

  Pissing me the fuck off.

  “Hello?” I ask in agitation. “What can a girl do around here to get some super villain loving? Touch myself? Save the world? Murder?”

  At my words, their eyes heat. The kinky shits actually got off on the thought. Which one - murdering or touching myself - remains a mystery.

  “We thought you’d be mad, baby girl,” Blaze says, the nickname rolling off his tongue and sending shivers down my spine. These guys destroy me, absolutely destroy me.

  “Oh, I’m furious,” I assure him. “But not because you knocked me out. And I’m not even mad that you idiots set the alarm off in the first place. No, what makes me furious is that I’m sitting here, legs spread open like a motherfucking gift sent from the goddess, and not one of you is naked. I see no penises. None. That makes me mad. Are you even hard right now?”

  Mas, of course, takes that as a challenge and stalks towards the bed. He is no longer wearing his laughable spandex suit, but the jeans and flannel attire he has on is just as attractive.

  “I should make you wait.” His low, sultry voice makes my nipples harden. “You stabbed me.”

  “Yes, but did you die?” I shoot back.

  “Stabbed. Me.” Each word is emphasized by a gesture towards his leg. Aw. Poor baby. Does he want me to fuck him and make it better?

  “Did. You. Die?” Because from what I can see, he is very much alive. I mean, I would be more certain if his clothes were off and I could see his twitching penis. For research purposes, of course. This is a life or death situation.

  If he takes any longer, I’m going to close the vaginal curtains and become a virgin again.

  “Fuck me,” I bark, finally losing my patience. Blaze begins to chuckle, the sound sending pinpricks of desire straight to my core. From a chuckle.

  I kind of love the guy.

  “Needy little wench,” Frost purrs. He materializes above me and slowly perches himself on the bed. His shirt is off, showcasing his sculpted muscles and the beautiful V that leads to his waistband. God, that V. It’s even better than the D. I just want to lick it. Claim it. Make it mine. After a moment, I do just that.

  Frost hisses in pleasure, tiny sparks of ice emitting from his hand. It is a quirk I noticed long ago—the unpredictability of their powers when they’re distracted. You can’t even begin to imagine how many beds Stone has broken, how many rooms were lit on fire by Blaze, and how many ice ages Frost created. And Mas? He once mind-controlled the entire city to partake in an orgy.

  Such wonderful memories.

  With a content smile, I spread my legs even wider and say in my best game show announcer voice, “Step right up and pick a hole! Any hole!”

  Blaze snorts, but he, too, moves to stand on the other side of the bed. Mas perches himself on the edge, his hands tantalizingly soft as they trace the soles of my feet. Stone, on the other hand, remains standing against the wall, his meaty arms crossed over his chest. Punishing himself, more than likely. My big, scary protector no doubt hates himself for having to knock me unconscious.

  Before I can convince Stone to stop being a whiner and come deflower me, sirens blare just outside our home. Lots of sirens.

  Red and blue lights flash at intermittent intervals, casting my men’s faces in shadows.

  “The fuck?” Blaze stands and moves to the window. Pushing away the curtain, he begins to swear. “We’re surrounded.”

  Mas levels me with accusatory eyes. I huff and cross my arms over my chest, not so accidentally pushing up my ample breasts. Mas’s eyes travel lower, flaring with heat.

  “I didn’t lead them to us, if that’s what you’re asking. Geez. Such little faith. I am the mother fucking—”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re the Purple Goddess. We get it.” Blaze waves his hand dismissively, and I resist the urge to punch him. Or castrate him. After all, he’s not even using the damn penis in the first place.

  “What do you want us to do, Boss?” Stone asks gruffly. His muscles flex...and I totally don’t plan to lick them. Nope. Nada. Not me. I am the epitome of calm.

  And not horny whatsoever.

  I’m a motherfucking adult. Adults don’t visualize licking arms.

  “Maybe I should just open up my legs when the police enter, and the cobwebs could snake out and strangle them.”

  Four pairs of eyes turn to stare at me with varying expressions of disbelief.

  “Yeah…” Frost says warily. “Let’s not.”

  “How long do we have?” Mas says, choosing to ignore my rather insightful comment.

  Blaze pulls back the curtain once more, a frown marring his handsome face. The police lights reflect off his disheveled red hair. “They’re surrounding us. Swat teams. Police cars.”

  “They probably think you have a hostage,” I mutter indolently. When they all quirk an eyebrow at me, I gesture to myself, still dressed in only purple panties and bra. “The Purple Goddess, remember?”

  “We can use that,” Frost murmurs. He is already stripping out of the rest of his clothes and is putting on the white spandex suit and mask.

  Seriously, I may be against wearing spandex suits myself—totally uncomfortable—but on these guys? My ovaries begin to hyperventilate and produce babies. It shows off their toned legs and perfect asses.

  Licking my lips, I turn just in time to see Blaze zip up his as well. Damn. I missed the show.

  He catch
es me ogling him and winks.

  “Do we have enough time?” Blaze says, directing the question at Mas.

  “If we do it fast,” he responds. I tilt my head to the side, confused.

  “Do what fast?”

  Ignoring me, again, Mas nods towards Stone.

  “Would you like to do the honors?”

  “I don’t think I deserve it,” my giant mumbles. Ugh. I really hate it when he sulks. Grown men should never, under any circumstances, sulk.

  “Quit being a bitch and go take care of our girl,” Blaze says, a mischievous smirk lighting up his face.

  Indecision flickers in Stone’s normally impassive eyes before it’s replaced by a steely determination. Before I can question what the ever-loving fuck is happening, Stone is prowling towards me like a lion that isn’t just out for the hunt, but for the kill.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” I begin to babble. “But I’m like fifty percent sure I’m not going to like it. Does it involve being knocked unconscious again? One time is good enough for me. I could maybe compromise with chains and whips, but I’ll—”

  My rant is interrupted by a bruising kiss from Stone. His lips mold over mine, lighting me on fire. Pricks of electricity race down my spine, from the tips of my fingers to the soles of my feet.

  I melt into his hard embrace; the heat he is emitting, almost palpable.

  He pulls away when we both need to breathe, pressing his lips to the hollow of my neck.

  “Just kidding. I most definitely like this plan.” I gasp, arching my neck to give him better access. He alternates between tiny nips, long sucks, and an erotic flick of his tongue. Damn. This man really knows how to use a tongue. It’s as big as the rest of him... and when I say the rest of him, I totally mean his dick. That thing is almost alien in size.

  “I need you.” I pull his lips back to mine. I don’t care that cops are surrounding the house, nor that I am supposed to be a “hostage”.

  All I care about is this man in my arms and the orgasm I have been denied all night.

  “Do it quick,” Mas instructs. I meet his eyes over Stone’s shoulder and see his jeans undone and his glorious cock on full display. He has yet to change into his standard super villain attire, thank the Lord. It is ten times more difficult to get a cock free from a spandex suit than it is normal jeans. It involves complicated gymnastics moves.

  As I watch, transfixed, he begins to stroke himself.

  Stone pushes down my panties, and his own cock springs free. The head drips with pre-cum.

  If we weren’t about to get arrested, I would totally blow him.

  He hoists me up, and my legs automatically go around his immense waist. I feel him poking at my hole, not quite entering yet. I groan at the sensation. The wall against my back is the only thing keeping me upright. His body cages me in, the best kind of prison.

  “I need you in me,” I beg, kissing a trail up his neck and to the corner of his lips.

  He pauses, half in and half out of me. Teasing me. “First, say you forgive me,” he growls, thrusting his hips. Once. Twice.

  I barely process his words. All I can focus on is the feel of him inside of me, the taste of him.

  When his words register, I pull back my head to stare at him in shock.

  “What?”

  “Say you forgive me.” His eyes are earnest as they hold mine. Pleading.

  The stupid idiot…

  “Of course I forgive you,” I say in exasperation. “You only did what needed to be done. And I love you, you stupid asshole.” I rock my hips, a surprisingly difficult feat, given my position.

  He groans low in his throat. You wouldn’t think a groan is a sultry sound, but let me tell you...

  If I still wore my panties, they would be fucking soaked.

  “But I won’t forgive you if you don’t fuck me.”

  Those words are his undoing. Before I can get my bearings, he is ramming into me. Hard and fast and brutal. His balls slap against my ass, the sound deafening in the suddenly silent room. His large hand cups my breast, testing its weight. His other hand snakes behind my back, unhooks my bra, and tosses the dreaded fabric onto the floor.

  My nipples are hardened beads, and he eagerly lowers his heads to take one into his mouth. His tongue swirls around my swollen nub, eliciting heady moans and inarticulate praises from me. One thing about Stone is that he is a breast man. While Frost may love my ass, Stone has a strange obsession with my tits. Not that I blame him.

  They are pretty damn good tits.

  Over Stone’s shoulder, I meet Mas’s eyes. His hand is wrapped around his cock as he works himself into a frenzy. Blaze stands beside him, smiling wickedly. With an almost blistering speed, Blaze pulls Mas’s lips to his own and takes him in a passionate kiss.

  I know that my men aren’t sexually attracted to each other in that way. But I also know that they know how much I love it. There is nothing sexier than watching two men that I love kiss each other deeply.

  Both of them are gauging my reaction out of the corner of their eyes as their lips battle for dominance. Mas’s tongue sneaks out, tasting the bottom of Blaze’s lips, and Blaze eagerly reciprocates.

  Stone increases speed, pounding me into the wall. I make a pathetic mewling sound as I reach my pinnacle. So close.

  So close…

  Blaze takes Mas’s dick in his hand and begins to stroke. It is that image that sends me over the edge. I come with a barely contained scream, biting into Stone’s shoulder to lessen the sound.

  Blaze pulls away from Mas, looking oddly satisfied as he watches me, and Mas explodes as well.

  My body is a trembling mess of nerves. If it wasn’t for Stone holding me up, I would’ve collapsed.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  Blaze chuckles darkly, stepping forward to kiss my lips. I can taste Mas on him, and the thought only makes me wetter.

  Instinctively, I rock once more against Stone’s length still sheathed inside of me. “As much as I want round two, the police are surrounding the house. We should probably deal with that first.” Sigh.

  The life of a superhero is never ending.

  Chapter Five

  Confession: this isn’t the first time I have been tied up.

  Confession number two: this is the first time I have been tied up with my clothes on.

  Don’t get me wrong, my purple dress flows around my body like water and is super comfortable (get it? Super?), but nothing beats a good old naked sex game. Chains and whips and paddles and unicorns. The good times.

  But at least I’m not wearing spandex suits. Silver linings.

  “How should I play this character?” I ask the guys as Blaze tightens the knot on my hands. He purposefully brushes his rock-hard cock against my back. Why am I not surprised that he is getting off on this?

  Blaze is definitely my more adventurous lover. He has no qualms about breaking out of his comfort zone. Tying me up? Yes, please. Tying himself up? Also okay. Kissing Mas to please me? Why not? The kinky shit, well, he claims he doesn’t like it but... there was a lot of tongue the last time they kissed.

  “Should I be hysterically crying? Angry? Badass?” When the guys stare at me like I'm an imbecile, I add, “Set the scene.”

  “The scene?” Frost raises a pale blond eyebrow, nearly as white as his hair.

  “Yes.” This would be the time I would fold my arms over my chest, but sadly, said hands are tied behind a chair. Instead, I settle on glaring.

  “The scene is that you’re tied up,” Blaze purrs into my ear. His tongue snakes out to lick the shell, and I moan in pleasure. “At our beck and call. Ours for the taking.”

  His voice…

  That low, sultry lilt…

  “Yours,” I agree.

  Wait.

  “No, you guys are mine. Let’s not forget that.”

  Blaze chuckles darkly, neither agreeing with nor denying my statement.

  “We need to focus,” Mas snaps.

  A stride
nt voice reverberates from behind the closed door.

  “We have you surrounded. Release the hostage and come out with your hands up.”

  “Help!” I scream hoarsely. “They have me! They’re going to kill me!”

  Mas rolls his eyes to the heavens.

  “Too much?” I ask softly.

  “Just a smidge.”

  Toning it down, I add, “They have a bomb! They’re going to explode my vagina! Help my vagina!”

  Nailed it.

  “Frost?” Mas says, and Frost steps up to me. Before I can protest, he shoves a washcloth into my mouth. My eyes narrow into thin slits, and my power sparks, eliciting a yelp from Frost as I “accidentally” electrocute him.

  “Asshole,” I try to say, but I’m afraid it comes out more like Absiuebsid.

  And yes, I realize that is gibberish.

  I really hope this isn’t a dirty washcloth. Unless it’s used to clean up their cum... then I wouldn’t mind it in my mouth.

  Focus!

  My men all stand around me. To the outside world, the circle would come across as a form of intimidation. Only, I know it’s used to protect me from any stray bullets or wayward powers.

  I may be the Purple Goddess, but I can still be killed. Unfortunately, Mommy Dearest chose not to add eternal life to the genetics pool.

  “If you come in, we’ll kill her!” Mas shouts.

  There is a moment of pronounced silence before a familiar voice comes from just outside the front door.

  “Purple Goddess, honey, are you okay?”

  Sheriff.

  Nobody can deny the tenderness, the reverence, in his gruff voice, as if we were long lost lovers finally reconnected. Four pairs of eyes turn to glare at me. Frost angrily rips out the gag.

  “Who the fuck is he?” Mas hisses.

  “Um…” I divert my attention towards the window where a tiny red dot is visible. “Ohhhh! They have snipers! That’s so cool!”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Stone growls, crossing his massive arms over his chest.