Screw

by Atlas, Lilly

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Don’t thank us yet,” Screw said with a wink. “As Gumby said, I’ve got a job to get to. Then I’ll take all the thanks and praise you want to give me.”

  With a laugh, she rolled her eyes and shoved his head down.

  “Ahh, I see how this is gonna be,” he said, before tonguing her clit.

  Had she any brain cells left, she’d have quipped some witty remark, but it was impossible with the things he was doing between her legs. After pulling her shirt and bra the rest of the way off, Gumby pinched her nipples, hard this time, making her arch into him with a low moan.

  Suddenly, the urge to deepen the connection to these men became a sharp, clawing need she couldn’t ignore. She tilted her chin up, offering Gumby her lips and he needed no additional encouragement. He kissed her, sucking her tongue into his mouth as he worked her nipples with agile fingers.

  Screw ate her like he was fucking starving, lashing her clit with his tongue before shoving it deep inside her. She could barely process the onslaught of sensations coming from so many parts of her body.

  When Screw sucked her clit into his mouth at the same time Gumby twisted her nipples, she cried out into Gumby’s mouth and fisted both men’s hair. She swore they groaned in unison at the rough tugs on their scalps.

  Her legs trembled and her stomach coiled tighter and tighter with each new sensation. Never before had she been so soaked, so needy, so willing to beg for release.

  But she didn’t need to because Screw’s fingers were back inside her—two this time, stroking her toward a hard and fast finish. His other hand squeezed her ass hard enough to leave marks as he held her gyrating hips against his mouth.

  “Fuuck,” Jazz moaned as electricity fired through all her limbs. “I’m gonna come,” she shouted against Gumby’s mouth. “Jesus, I’m gonna come so hard.”

  “Fucking do it,” he growled in her ear right before sinking his teeth into her neck as he pulled her nipples. Screw sucked her clit and rubbed furiously over that extra sensitive spot in her pussy.

  Jazz screamed as her entire body stiffened then exploded. She shoved her hips forward, drawing any extra sensation she could from Screw’s insatiable mouth. She shook and groaned, still fisting both men’s hair. Who knew how long it went on before she realized she was practically balding them as she chanted, “Holy shit,” again and again?

  As the orgasm faded away, leaving her a sated blob, she sagged against Gumby.

  Screw rose, going straight for her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth than the next.

  “Jesus,” she cried. Her entire body felt so sensitive, like a live wire popping and buzzing with energy. With a weak effort, she shoved at Screw’s head while he laughed.

  Gumby wrapped his arms around her from behind, supporting her limp body. Once fully standing, Screw pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. Her own flavor lingered on his mouth and she couldn’t resist reaching out to run her thumb across his swollen lips.

  “Kiss him,” she whispered.

  “Don’t have to ask me twice.” Screw wound an arm around Gumby, trapping her between them as the two men shared a passionate kiss over her head.

  Her sex clenched as though she hadn’t just had a monster orgasm.

  “Come on,” Screw said after the kiss ended. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  Huh?

  “Sleep?” she asked. “Really? But what about—”

  “We’re good, babe. We wanted to take care of you this time.”

  This time. As though there’d be a next time. Nice thought, but she wouldn’t hold her breath. Besides, there were so many questions, so much to talk about. Until a few days ago, she hadn’t even known Gumby was attracted to men. Not that it mattered, but…shouldn’t she have known?

  He gave her a little nudge and she followed Screw toward the bed. As though he belonged, he slid under the covers and scooted to the far edge. “It’s just a queen,” she said with a laugh. “Not sure we’ll all fit.”

  “Guess we’ll have to sleep close,” Gumby said in her ear. He gave her a playful slap on the ass. “Come on girl, get that sweet body under the covers before you freeze.”

  “Let me just put something on.”

  “Fuck no,” Screw said. “Get in here.”

  She stared at the bed for a moment before shrugging and climbing in, naked.

  Turning, she watched Gumby slip in next to her. Screw wrapped a muscled forearm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Gumby wiggled close, pressing up against her front.

  Sleep would never come. Not after such an emotionally charged afternoon. But perhaps she could find a measure of peace for a few hours, tucked between the two men who’d gotten her to finally share her story.

  Though shaken by both confessing her darkest secret and the intensity of the physical encounter, her soul felt…different. Lighter, maybe. The acceptance they showed her of the story and her scarred body provided a balm to her aching psyche.

  When it came down to it, being shunned for the way she looked proved to be the greatest fear. Though solitude, keeping herself covered, and avoiding relationships gave her control over her isolation, she still faced the same end result. Revealing herself to a man who had the power to crush her with rejection robbed her of her power. So, she’d lived in self-imposed relationship exile. But they’d accepted her. More than that, they’d wanted her, desired her sexually, and had given her indescribable pleasure. For the first time in ages, confidence filled her.

  Was this a one off or would it happen again? And did she even want it to happen again? Screw certainly wasn’t known for sticking around, so the smart thing would be to expect nothing and if she was gifted another experience like this one, take it and revel in it. And if she woke alone in the bed, the knowledge that for a little while they’d truly wanted her would have to be enough.

  God, it felt perfect surrounded by the two men who’d been stuck in her head these past few weeks.

  Warmth from the two strong male bodies blanketing her seeped into her bones. Strength too. Along with someone’s intoxicating cologne. In a matter of seconds, her eyelids grew heavy and she was pulled into the lull of sleep.

  Too bad perfection was nothing more than a beautiful illusion.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE MOMENT SCREW opened his eyes, events of the afternoon came rushing back like he’d been hit with a fire hose spray. His body, especially the part that had gone to bed hard and aching, wanted to recall the most erotic encounter of his life, but his brain couldn’t shake the horrifying ordeal Jazz had been through.

  The scars…Christ, the scars. So fucking many of them. He hadn’t been lying, and didn’t think Gumby had either; the scars didn’t detract from how much he wanted her. Wanted to touch her, taste her, fuck her silly. But they fired a rage in his gut like never before. Those marks were a constant physical reminder that she’d suffered unimaginable pain at the hand of someone who should have loved her and wanted to protect her.

  Paul would pay for what he did to Jazz. Screw vowed that down to the very core of his being. Perhaps he should be more sensitive to the man’s unstable mental state, and maybe empathy would come later, but right then with Jazz’s dried tears on his skin, he wanted nothing more than to fuck the guy up in the worst way.

  Running a hand down his face, he glanced to his left where Jazz lay, curled up on her side, facing him. Her features had relaxed in sleep, giving her a peaceful appearance.

  In a matter of weeks his life had gone away from carefree hookups—and a fuckton of them—easy living in the MC, and little responsibility over heavy shit he wasn’t prepared to handle. Keeping his head in the game and not falling back on flippant habits sucked, but now he had serious shit in his life he couldn’t avoid. Jazz, Gumby, his position as enforcer, the Chrome Disciples. From one extreme to the other.

  Would he drown under the weight of responsibility? Would he fail in a spectacular way, letting down everyone important
in his life?

  Would someone suffer because of his inadequacies?

  Fuck, one issue at a time.

  The usual urge to run from the bed hadn’t hit him yet. In fact, all he wanted was to wrap his arms around Jazz and continue sleeping until morning. A glance at the clock on a nightstand adjacent to the bed let him know it was only eight in the evening. They’d slept for quite a few hours, but there were still many more until the sun came up again.

  Enough to wake his bedmates for a real threesome.

  With a sigh, he forced himself to roll to his back. He should leave. It’s what they’d both expect of him, so there shouldn’t be any hard feelings. He peeled himself off the bed. After taking a few seconds to convince himself this was the right decision, he rose.

  Jazz shifted and murmured in her sleep, which had him smiling. As he turned to get one final look at her soft and sated form, he frowned.

  They were the only two in the bed.

  Where had Gumby gone?

  And when had he left?

  Screw padded out of the room and down the hallway. A quick peek in the empty guest room had his frown deepening. Had Gumby left the house?

  Would he do that? Seemed like quite the dick move for a guy so interested in Jazz.

  Hello pot, may I introduce you to my pal, kettle?

  Fuck.

  Just as he was about to search for his boots, movement from the front porch caught his eyes. Was someone sitting on the loveseat? What the fuck? It couldn’t be more than forty degrees outside.

  Boots abandoned, he shoved the front door open and stepped outside onto the lit porch. Immediately, bitter cold assaulted his uncovered arms and the freezing concrete beneath his bare toes had him wanting to hop around on alternating feet.

  Gumby sat on Jazz’s whicker loveseat with a Sherpa blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair stuck up all over the place from sleep and, like Screw, he wore what he’d fallen asleep in, jeans and a Henley. The glasses that gave him such a Clark Kent look were absent. He didn’t even flinch as Screw came outside, instead sat staring into distance, lost in his head.

  “Hey, man,” Screw said, rubbing his chilled arms. “Jesus, it’s colder than Elsa’s twat out here.”

  “Who?” Gumby asked not taking his attention away from whatever his gaze had latched onto.

  “Elsa.” Damn, thirty seconds was too long to be out dressed as he was. With the state Gumby appeared to be in, sharing the blanket was probably out of the question.

  “Yeah, I heard you. Who the fuck is Elsa?” He shifted, pulling the fabric tighter around his shapely shoulders.

  Really? Was there a person alive who didn’t know Elsa? “You know, the queen from Frozen. Has that ice power and shit.”

  “Frozen?” Gumby finally turned toward him, a ghost of a smile tilting his lips.

  Mission accomplished.

  “As in the animated movie?”

  Screw shuffled closer, resting his back on a column opposite Gumby’s chair. “That’s the one. Can’t believe it took you this long to catch on.”

  Gumby snorted. “Sorry I’m not up on my Disney princesses.”

  With a laugh, Screw said, “You will be. Give Beth another week and you’ll know all their names, ages, birthdays, cup sizes—”

  “Cup sizes?” Gumby said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Okay, maybe I researched those on my own.” He shrugged. “Sue me.”

  Gumby chuckled, then fell silent.

  “So what has you out here in the dead of night freezing your balls off? You thinking about Jazz’s story?”

  “You could say that.”

  Hmm, something was off. His tone too flat, lifeless, guilt ridden. Fuck. He hadn’t even thought twice about kissing Gumby multiple times during their encounter with Jazz. That what had the guy freaking out? Clearly Gumby had reservations about admitting his attraction to men. Was he out to anyone? His own club?

  Well, if he hadn’t been, he was now, to at least two people.

  “You wanna share what’s goin’ on in that dome of yours, or you hoping my dick’ll freeze so you can break it off.”

  No response.

  With a sigh, Screw nudged Gumby’s foot with his own. The thing felt like a block of ice. How long had he been out in the cold? “Hey.”

  Gumby shifted his gaze.

  “We can play this however you want. However you need. Okay? I’m not gonna run to the clubhouse and start spreading our private shit around. You want this to stay on the down low, I can do that.” He gestured between them with his hand before tucking the cold appendage into his armpit.

  “Fuck,” Gumby said as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “Haven’t even gotten that far in my freak-out yet. But don’t worry, I’ll get there.”

  After huffing out a small laugh, Screw tilted his head and waited. With each passing second, his body grew number, except his toes. They burned like fucking fire.

  Eventually, without making eye contact, Gumby said, “We had a date.” It sounded as though those four simple words had sliced his insides as he spoke them.

  “What?” Screw frowned. “Who? When?”

  “Me and Jazz. We were supposed to go out. First time alone. Fuck, I’d been looking forward to it. For fucking weeks. But some shit came up with the club.” He shrugged and he finally looked at Screw.

  The self-hatred in his eyes had Screw’s insides clenching.

  “You know how it is. Club comes first. Especially over someone who isn’t an ol’ lady. I had to cancel on her. She didn’t get pissed though. Jazz doesn’t do drama like that. We said we’d pick another day.” He fell silent again as he shook his head.

  Dread began to twist Screw’s stomach in a large knot. “When was your date, Gumby?”

  So much time passed, he wondered if the other man had heard him but then Gumby said, “The Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Twenty-eighteen.”

  Jesus Christ, it was as though he’d been punched in the gut. All the air whooshed out of Screw, leaving him weak-kneed and shaking. Fuck, the guilt of that would be enough to destroy anyone. Add it to confronting his sexuality, and Gumby had a lot of shit on his plate.

  “Gumby, you have to know…”

  Gumby lifted a hand. “Don’t say it, Screw. Don’t say it’s not my fault. She wasn’t supposed to be home. There’s only one reason she was home, and it’s me. She even told me she struggled with my part in it. She told me something happened that weekend and for a while she was mad at me.”

  “Gumby, she was scared, hurt, traumatized. What happened once she had some distance? Does she still harbor ill feelings toward you?”

  He shrugged.

  “Pretty sure she wouldn’t have let you get your hands all over her tits tonight if she had a problem with you.”

  “Doesn’t matter if she forgives me. Doesn’t mean I didn’t fuck up, Screw.”

  With frustration rumbling through his chest, Screw pushed off the column. When he reached Gumby, he threaded his hand through the man’s short hair, catching the strands in a hard grip before tilting his head back to ensure Gumby’s focus. The pain and self-hatred in Gumby’s eyes gutted him. This man fully blamed himself for Jazz’s trauma.

  An overwhelming urge to comfort this hurting man swamped Screw. He was so far out of his element here, being the one to ease another’s burdens. Gumby had obviously stepped out of his comfort zone to be with him and Jazz tonight. Screw wanted to give the man something in return. Something to prove he wasn’t just an asshole out for a good time. Something to show he cared. “It’s Luke,” Screw said with a growl, giving the name no one but his president even knew. “Say it.”

  “Luke…”

  It wasn’t quite the sexual plea he’d been hoping for, but fuck if the name didn’t roll off Gumby’s tongue straight to Screw’s dick. “Listen to me and listen fucking good,” he said, giving Gumby’s head a light shake. “You fucking know this ain’t your fault. If you’ve been with your MC for any amount of tim
e, you know shit happens. Bad fucking shit we could ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ for the rest of our lives. Playing those games doesn’t do shit for Jazz. She doesn’t need the stress of making you feel guilty on top of all she’s dealing with. So take another minute to feel how you need to feel then put it away. It ends right fucking now because it’s not your goddamn fault she has a psychotic and strung out brother who never received the help he needed. Get me?”

  By the time he finished his tirade, his chest was heaving, he no longer noticed the freezing temperature, and he practically shouted the words. Oh, and his dick was harder than a fucking spike.

  With a single nod, Gumby said, “Yeah, I get you.”

  “Good.” Now that the lecture had ended, what remained was Screw’s tight grip on Gumby’s hair, their faces inches apart, and one—he glanced at Gumby’s lap—two hard cocks. Neither had come earlier in the evening, and while he’d loved giving Jazz the attention, he’d been left with one helluva case of blue balls. Gumby didn’t seem to be faring much better.

  “What the fuck do you do to me?” Gumby asked, voice strained as though he knew resisting would be a wasted effort but hadn’t quit yet.

  “Hopefully, I get you off, fucking hard.”

  A grunt was the only response.

  Screw released Gumby’s hair then positioned himself in front of the other man. With their gazes locked, Screw slowly undid his belt. Then the button on his jeans. And the zipper. When he started to lower it, Gumby tracked the move like a hawk. It was too fucking cold to get naked and Screw wasn’t about to risk the moment by suggesting they relocate inside, so he just pulled his swollen shaft out of his black briefs.

  Gumby licked his lips and Screw swore he felt that fucking tongue on his sensitive skin. “Jesus,” he whispered. “You may not know what the fuck I do to you, but I know you make me fucking crazy. Take yourself out.”