Sir Loin of Beef
Page 4
“Look how your pussy takes my finger. I can’t wait to watch as my dick disappears inside you. It’s going to pull back out coated in all your sticky honey.”
He began to work me as he talked, fucking me with his finger as his thumb… oh god, found my clit again, brushed it with expert precision to get me close to coming.
I cried out, my hands going to his shirt and holding on.
Bartender’s teeth nipped at my ear.
I was hot all over, lost. Wild. Needy. I’d never felt like this before, so aroused from just what they’d done… and it hadn’t been all that much. And at the same time, it was more erotic than anything I’d ever experienced.
They were so good and still fully clothed.
Shifting his hand, Mr. Big circled my clit with his thumb some more and slipped a second finger to join the first in my pussy. The wet sound of it filled the room, and I went up onto my tiptoes.
He continued the movement of his thumb and found a spot inside me that had me gasp.
“I’m going to come,” I said in a rush, surprising myself at the swiftness of it. Of how ready I’d been.
“Yes, you are.” Mr. Big pinched my nipple and the little bite of pain was intense. Surprising since I really, really liked it. “And we’re going to watch.”
That pushed me over, knowing they were doing this to me, would watch me and see their swift success.
“Shh,” he murmured when I started to cry out. “Those sounds are just for us, angel.”
I bit my lip as I came, my inner walls clenching down on his fingers. I could feel how wet I was, and I knew I’d coated his palm. My hips bucked, my muscles tightened with the most amazing orgasm of my life.
His fingers slowed, then stilled before he pulled his hand free. Bartender’s hand stroked up and down my back. Gently, soothingly. I leaned my forehead against Mr. Big’s chest and caught my breath. Smiled. It couldn’t be helped. I felt sooo good.
Finally, I looked up at him, but he was all blurry. “My glasses did fog,” I commented. They were quickly clearing in the cool air.
“Like I said, just a taste.” Lifting his slick fingers to his mouth, Mr. Big licked off all my arousal. “Once more, angel,” he said.
“But you didn’t… I mean, both of you didn’t, don’t you want—”
“Baby, this is all about you,” Bartender said. “What we just did was a little fast, hell, yeah, but seeing what you look like when you come, knowing we’re the ones who put that dazed look in your eyes, the flush in your cheeks—”
“Sweet cream all over my hand,” Duke added, licking his fingers some more.
“—was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen. No matter what my dick thinks, I—”
“We,” Duke clarified.
“—we have no intention of fucking you tonight. Not in my office. I want you in my bed where we can get you between us and go at it all night.”
All night. I squirmed, feeling how slick my thighs were, how empty I felt.
I turned so one was on either side of me. I looked down, glanced at the clear bulges in their jeans. Still feeling the effects of my orgasm, I reached out with both hands and put my palms on them.
Huge. Thick. Long. I felt both their dicks grow as I rubbed through their jeans.
Neither stopped me and Bartender worked open his belt buckle.
“You want to get your hands on a nice, big dick, baby?”
I licked my lips, eager to feel him.
“Yes.”
I pulled my hand back and watched as he opened his jeans, reached in and pulled out—
God. He was big with a pulsing vein running up the long length. The crown was flared and a drop of pre-cum beaded the tip. He held the base in a tight grip, but still, inches upon inches thrust out toward me above it.
“You can get your hands on us, get marked with our cum, but we’re not claiming that pussy until we get you in a bed,” Mr. Big said.
I liked that idea, but I liked the idea of making them come, too. To see them lose their tight control and know I’d had that power over them.
As I stared at Bartender, Mr. Big pulled himself free of his jeans as well. I looked left, then right, at both of them. They were even bigger than I’d thought based on the bulges in their jeans. No wonder Bartender’s had gone down the inside of his thigh. It had to be ten inches long. And Mr. Big... his name worked for his dick, too. My pussy clenched, knowing if I took either of them, they’d have to stretch me wide to fit.
They were both stroking their lengths in tight fists, Mr. Big’s leaking pre-cum like a faucet. I licked my lips, wondered what it tasted like.
“Shit, I want that little tongue to lick off all my cum, but not tonight, angel. Take me in hand, get me off. That’s it. Tighter.” He instructed me what to do, how to hold him as I slid my hand up and down. My fingers didn’t close around him, he was that thick. Hot and smooth, but so hard as I stroked him.
“Don’t forget about me, baby. You need to take care of both your men.”
I reached out, took him in hand. Stroked him, too. I had two dicks. Me. Two. Holy shit.
Mr. Big cupped my breast again as Bartender slipped his hand over my pussy from behind. A thick finger slipped into me, fucked me in a similar motion as to what I was doing with my hands on their dicks.
It didn’t take long, their hips thrusting into my motions as they groaned, spurted their cum in long arcs toward me. Mr. Big’s landed on my thighs, the top of my mound. And I felt the hot pulse of Bartender’s cum as it coated my bottom in stripes.
It was dirty. Filthy dirty, but I didn’t care because I rode Bartender’s finger to a second orgasm.
By the time I recovered from it—sheer bliss—I wasn’t sure if my legs actually worked. We were all breathing hard and my skin was damp with sweat—and cum. The scent of cum filled the room.
I laughed, let go of a dick—still hard even though it had just shot a huge load—and pushed my foggy glasses back up my nose.
“How are you going to fit those back in your pants?” I asked.
Bartender grunted. “It’s not going to go down until it’s had that pussy.”
I clenched my inner walls at the thought of that thing fitting inside of me. Times two.
My lust-filled haze was lifting a little. “I can’t believe you got me so worked up I never found out your names.”
“You’re not the only one worked up,” Mr. Big replied, his gaze on my skirt, which... crap, was still around my waist.
And my panties were around my ankles.
Leaning down, I reached for them.
“Hand them here, angel.”
I glanced up and he held his hand out. Lifting one foot, then the other, I carefully worked them over my boots and handed him my dainty panties.
Bartender slowly worked my skirt back in place. Their cum smeared into my skin and I knew I’d smell like them until I took a shower. “At least now we know that pussy’s uncovered for us. All warmed up, wet and ready for our dicks. Marked, too.”
“Okay, but I want to know who’s gotten me all sexed up.” God, I was a total hussy for doing all that and just thinking of them as Mr. Big and Bartender.
Bartender grinned and I fell in love with him just a little bit. “Sexed up? Oh, baby, we’re going to do so much more than get you sexed up. I’m Jed Cassidy.” He leaned down and kissed me.
When he was done, Mr. Big put a finger on my chin so I’d look up at him. “And I’m Landon Duke, but everyone calls me Duke, though you can call me whatever you want when you come for us again.”
I stilled. My heart stuttered, my breath caught. Landon Duke? Oh my god. This was Landon Duke?
Every bit of pleasure disappeared as adrenaline burst through my system. As panic set in. Landon Duke. Out of all the men in Raines, I had to draw the eye of a Duke. I knew everything about the Dukes. There were three Duke boys, although clearly they were men now. Landon, Tucker and Gus. Thankfully, Jed wasn’t one of them. I knew the Duke boys had a siste
r, Julia. I knew about all of the entire family, especially the parents.
Raines had over ten-thousand people. Not huge by any means, but big enough that I’d thought I could move back and avoid them all.
“Oh my god.”
Perhaps he saw the look on my face, or felt the way I went all rigid, but he stepped back. Jed, too.
“What?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead. “What’s the matter?”
“I have to go.” I rushed out, fumbling with the door, not meeting their eyes.
“What? Wait—”
I didn’t stick around to talk, rushing down the hall and into the throng of women. I needed my purse, my keys, so I could get the hell out of this bar.
I glanced over my shoulder once, saw them at the edge of the room searching for me. Fortunately, I didn’t stand out like they did. I scrunched my shoulders, kept my head down as I worked my way through the women who were—thankfully—all standing and cheering a stripper on stage. I grabbed my purse from where I’d left it, glad Ava’s attention wasn’t turned my way. I snuck out and made it to the parking lot and dashed to my car. My breath was ragged, but this time from panic and adrenaline, not from pleasure.
“Kaitlyn! Wait!” Landon Duke called as the two of them rushed toward my car. I struggled to get the key in the lock, for once wishing for a fancy new car that had a simple button remote.
“What’s the matter? Wait and we’ll talk.”
Talk. God, that’s what I should have done before I let them in my panties.
I scrambled into the driver’s seat, slammed the door closed behind me, then fumbled as I jammed the keys into the ignition. “Come on, come on!” I moaned to the car. It was old, a beater, but it was mine. It got me where I wanted to go, and while I knew it was on its last legs, it was all I had. It started and I sighed in relief.
Landon Duke stood beside the car, but he put his hands on the hood, looking at me through the front windshield, confusion on his face. Jed was right beside him. “Wait! What happened? Why are you running off like this?” he shouted so I could hear him through the closed window.
I barely glanced at either of them as I put the car in gear and floored it, making them jump back so I didn’t run them over.
I pulled out of the lot, practically taking the turn onto the street on two wheels. The further I got from Landon Duke didn’t help. Didn’t lessen the pain. The guilt. Nothing would.
I hadn’t driven drunk and hit Landon’s parents. My father had, although it was because of me he’d done so. I hadn’t driven off, leaving them to tend to their injuries on their own until some other car came by and helped. I hadn’t gone to prison for the crime. My father had since it had been his third offense and a hit and run, at that. Fifteen years later, my father was dead and buried, yet I was still paying the price of his sins. Of mine. I’d called and asked him to pick me up from a sleepover at a friend’s house instead of walking the two miles. It had been early, rainy and cold and I hadn’t wanted to walk. And because of it, my father, still drunk from an all-night bender, had gotten in his car and almost killed Mr. and Mrs. Duke on the way.
And I’d just let Landon Duke, probably one of three men in the whole world who had reason to hate me, get me off. And he had my panties.
6
KAITLYN
* * *
At six the next morning, I was standing in front of the coffeemaker waiting for it to finish brewing. I had on my well-worn pajama pants with little ducks all over them and a black tank top. My hair was down, tangled and snarled after tossing and turning all night. Everything was a little blurry because I didn’t have on my glasses, but I didn’t need them to get my caffeine fix.
The dark scent was helping perk me up, but it wasn’t making me feel any better. I was an idiot. A banging-my-head-against-the-wall idiot. That’s what I’d been telling myself ever since I peeled out of Cassidy’s the night before. A complete and total idiot. Or I had the worst luck ever, which was definitely true, so both. What more could go wrong? My life was one set of disasters after another. Nothing, nothing, was ever simple.
If Ava’d been pulled up on stage by a stripper, then gotten tossed over a different guy’s shoulder and gotten fingered by not just him but his friend, too, she’d be waking up between the two men right now. Perhaps picking out china patterns and children’s names. But no. The men who’d said I belonged to them, who’d given me two of the best orgasms of my life weren’t just any men.
Nooooooo.
It was Landon Duke and his friend. Hell, best friend if they shared women.
“Landon Duke,” I whispered at the coffeemaker. It gurgled back in reply.
There were only two other men in town who could have made me feel just as bad. Landon’s brothers. Well, or Roger, but that was something else entirely. A blind date gone really bad. Like creepy stalker bad. I didn’t go to the community center to swim anymore, since he worked out there almost every day. I didn’t go to the diner where he liked the apple pie. Not that I had extra cash for a splurge like eating out. I didn’t even go to the grocery store in town, instead buying my groceries in Clayton when I worked part-time at the hotel to avoid him. He gave me the creeps and I wanted to steer clear. Unlike Landon—at least before now—Roger'd been easy to avoid since I knew what he looked like, although that didn’t prevent him from seeking me out.
But the Dukes were avoidable, or at least I’d thought so, because I didn’t know what they looked like. They’d been strangers to me. I still didn’t know what Tucker and Gus Duke looked like. Or Julia, their sister, or the parents, although I remembered them somewhat from the trial. Still, it had been a long time. I could pass them on the street and not know it. I may have several times the past six months I’d been back in town.
I’d been ten when everything happened and I’d moved away. Fifteen years had passed. The Duke kids were older than me so it wasn’t as if I’d even known them then. Until the trial. Then, I’d seen all of them, but in fifteen years, we’d all changed.
And Landon Duke for the better. Doing my math, he was thirty-two now. And handsome. Handsome enough for me to let him do more than slip his hands in my panties and find me wet.
Every woman in three counties would have ruined panties just getting a glimpse of him. And he’d made me come with just his fingers alone. He was skilled. Very skilled. I’d also been horny—it had been a long, long time since I’d had a man-induced orgasm. The vibrator in my bedside stand needed new batteries with a frequency too great to even consider.
I was fixated on Landon, not giving much thought to Jed Cassidy, which was ridiculous. He was just as hot, just as sexy. I’d been just as eager for him to get his hands on me, too. In me. I’d been a slut for both of them. But his parents hadn’t been almost killed by my father.
I’d be having Landon Duke and Jed Cassidy fantasies for the rest of my life. And only fantasies because, while the chemistry between us had been off the charts, and I felt strangely safe and protected in their arms, it wasn’t going to happen again. No way.
Opening up my cabinet, I grabbed my favorite mug and thunked it down on the counter.
“Stupid,” I muttered.
Vixen, my cat, circled my legs. I should feel good that she was there to comfort me, but she wasn’t the think-of-others sort. No, she was just hungry.
“You’re going to have to wait,” I told her. “I’m not done wallowing yet.”
I grabbed the milk from the fridge, sniffed it, then groaned. It was bad. Going to the sink, I poured the last of it down the drain, turning on the faucet to let the water wash it away. After tossing the container in the recycling, I grabbed the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, scooped some into my coffee, stirred it in and went to take a shower. With my coffee.
Besides the wallowing, I’d thought about Landon’s mouth on mine, his hand on my breast, the way my nipple hardened instantly beneath his fingers. Jed’s finger as it slowly fucked me from behind, the feel of his cock in my tight grip. God, the
way he’d come, thick ropes of his pleasure had coated my skin. It still did—Landon’s too—a sticky and physical reminder of what we’d done.
Both of them had discovered that I’d been embarrassingly wet for them—and that had all been from verbal foreplay. I’d probably pumped up their male egos by how quickly I’d come for them, not once but twice.
It had been good. Really good. God, I’d been so blissed out there for a minute I’d have let them bend me over the desk and fuck me. Even now, mortified, it was a steamy thought.
With one of Landon’s big hands on my back, holding me pressed against the hard surface, my ass lifted as he pushed up my skirt and lowered my panties just enough so one of them could stick his dick—definitely a big slab of beef—in me. Fucking me hard, deep. Maybe he’d even grab hold of my bun and pull my head back, hold me right where he wanted me. And when he was done, the other would have his turn.
I’d seen their cocks, felt them, stroked them. Watched cum shoot from them in powerful arcs. I wanted them deep inside me.
God, to be manhandled—in a very good, very delicious and naughty way—had me squirming now. I had a feeling both Landon and Jed would be possessive, dominant lovers. Yet with all that size, all that intensity they exuded, they had been remarkably gentle. Protective. Eager to make me theirs. A dichotomy I couldn’t fixate on. Couldn’t do anything more than think about.
And that’s all it—the strange, powerful thing between us—could ever be. A thought. Those I could have since they didn’t cost anything. They were free. Mine. Secret. And as for what Landon Duke looked like, that was no longer a secret and I could steer clear. Hide behind an end cap at the grocery store, never go into Cassidy’s again to see Jed.
After gulping half the mug of coffee in one go, I turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up. With the hot water heater being small and old, I took a Navy shower—as my aunt had called it—and was always in and out in record time, even with washing my long hair.
While I hadn’t been the one to drive drunk and hit his parents, injuring them so they were both in the hospital for over a month before finally recovering enough to recuperate at home, I knew none of the Dukes would want anything to do with me. They no doubt hated my dad, but Don Leary was dead. They should hate me too, just by being his daughter, by being the reason he’d gotten in the car in the first place. And now I was back in Raines and Landon knew it. I was sure he’d tell the rest of the Dukes; they’d all surely know about me soon enough. I was The Reminder.