by Jayne Rylon
While he stared at her with wide, startled eyes, she surrendered.
Devra came on her husband’s face, while kissing another man. She felt Trevon’s cock jerk in response and gripped him tighter. He groaned and squirmed beneath her and Quinn, obviously joining her in an epic release. She felt his come land hot on her belly as he emptied himself.
And only when they’d both nearly drowned in ecstasy did Quinn follow suit.
He threw his head back and shouted, “Trevon! Devra!”
His motions became frantic and then jerky. He buried himself completely in Trevon then spasmed, mashing their bodies together and filling her husband to overflowing with his seed.
The thought alone made Devra come again.
Her orgasm was so powerful, she lost control of her muscles and collapsed backward on the rug.
Trevon reached blindly for her, his big hand wrapping around her ankle and using the connection to draw her alongside him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and clutched her to his chest. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you. Thank you.”
Devra felt tears sting her eyes as she held him and whispered reassuring nonsense. They lay there cuddled together, recovering. By the time they calmed down enough to look around for Quinn, he was nowhere to be found.
21
Trevon was cleaning up his station during a rare gap in his schedule when a long white van rolled into the lot. The lettering on the side proclaimed it belonged to Dawes Salvage Services.
When the door opened, the guy who popped out was shorter than Trevon—though most people were. He had a scrappy look about him, like you wouldn’t want to try to cheat him at cards or pool in a bar or he’d kick your ass despite being wiry and lean. He had long chestnut hair that brushed his shoulders and a proper beard, maybe a little longer than appropriate for an office but not quite hipster qualified either.
He wore a black long-sleeved shirt despite the heat, though the top three silver snaps were undone, exposing a decently hairy chest and a smattering of tattoos. If Trevon hadn’t recently become obsessed with Quinn, he might think the guy was pretty sexy in an unconventional sort of way.
“Hey,” he called as the salvage man approached, drawing him toward the open bay door instead of the small office space attached to the garage.
The guy put his hand up like a visor, then peered inside. “Hello? Quinn, that you?”
“He and Gavyn went to deliver a bike.” Trevon leaned up against the counter. “They left me holding down the fort.”
It meant something to him that they trusted him enough to look after Hot Rides even for a couple of hours.
“I don’t think we’ve met yet.” The man came forward with a spring in his step that matched his easy smile. “I’m Oliver Dawes, but most people call me Ollie. I spend most of my days rummaging through garbage to find anything useful. Especially for vehicles.”
“Nice to meet you.” Trevon looked over at Pop’s bike. It was coming along, but they’d hit a few snags, like cams and other parts they couldn’t easily repair or fake. If Trevon had been working a couple more months at Hot Rides, he might have use for Ollie’s skills.
“Is that yours?” Ollie pointed at the Indian Chief.
“Yeah.” Trevon nodded.
“Then I think my package is actually for you.” He took a bundle wrapped in brown burlap from his backpack and handed it over to Trevon.
“What’s this?” He flipped open the fabric and found a treasure trove of vintage, pristine parts for his motorcycle inside. “What the—?”
“Quinn asked me to be on the lookout for them.” The guy grinned. “I think I see why now. Who needs roses when you can have a big, hard cam shaft, huh?”
Trevon tried to laugh off the joke, but it hit a little close to home. So he simply stared. “This is…thank you. But I can’t afford these. I saw a shitty one on eBay for $450 last week. I know he meant well, but Quinn probably didn’t realize.”
“He put it on the Hot Rides account, buddy. They’re yours.” Ollie held his hands palms out, refusing to take them back when Trevon thrust them at him. “Even if they hadn’t been paid for, I’d leave them here. They belong in that motorcycle, not sitting in someone’s warehouse waiting for an internet order to come in for top dollar. It’s the best thing about my job, really. Bringing things back to life.”
“Wow, that’s…thank you.” Trevon cleared his throat. “Do you only sell parts or whole bikes, too?”
“If I was ever lucky enough to find one like this, I’d hire Quinn to fix it up for me and then flip it. I go to a lot of auctions and estate sales, I see a lot of collectors. Someone would love to snap up something like that.” Ollie wandered closer and crouched down for a better look. “Why? You looking to sell?”
Trevon knew it was for the best. It still hurt like hell when he said, “Yes.”
“Let me take a few pictures and see who I run into over the next few weeks. It’ll probably take you guys that long to finish it, don’t you think?” Ollie wondered.
“I can have it ready in two to three, if the price is right. Now that I have these.” Trevon held up the spare parts that had just made a lot of things possible for him and Devra.
“It’s a ’38 Chief, isn’t it?”
Impressive. “Yes. That’s right.”
“What would you ask for it?”
Trevon shot for the moon. “Forty thousand.”
“Son of a bitch.” Ollie looked up so fast he nearly fell on his ass. “Are you joking?”
“Too much?” Trevon considered lowering his asking price although it cracked his heart in half.
“Hell no!” The guy shook his head, sending his hair whipping around his face. “Take nothing less than fifty. I’ve seen them go for that much in far worse condition and I know the two of you will have this thing pristine.”
“You realize you could have bought it off me and made yourself a nice profit.” Trevon raised a brow at Ollie.
“If I was a dickhead, which I’m not.” He rolled his eyes as he stood and dusted off his pants. “Besides, I have a feeling for that Quinn would have put his boot so far up my ass it would have come out my mouth. He doesn’t hire just anyone to work here. In fact, you’re the first, huh?”
Trevon tried not to think of Quinn and firsts or he’d definitely give Ollie the wrong impression. “Uh, I guess.”
“Well, tell him I said thanks for his business and that if he ever wants to hire someone else, I’m game for working exclusively for Hot Rides and their friends down the road. It seems like lately you guys are my best customers anyway.” The guy laughed, but something about his joke seemed serious to Trevon.
“I’ll do that. Thank you again. For the parts and for your help with my pop’s bike.” Trevon petted the seat lovingly. Someone else would appreciate it like he—and his grandfather before him—had.
“Wait, that’s an heirloom?” Ollie crossed his arms. “You sure you want to sell?”
Trevon drew a deep breath and thought of his new family. Devra, and maybe Quinn, too. They wouldn’t be whole, or able to move forward, until Devra’s immigration status was cleared up and they had some capital to work with for pursuing her dreams. “Positive.”
“Okay then. I’ll give the shop a call if I get any leads.” Ollie nodded.
Trevon realized he should have asked earlier… “What’s your finder’s fee?”
“It’s on the house.” He shrugged. “A favor for my best customers.”
Trevon wasn’t an idiot. He knew the guy could sense he was desperate. “No wonder you need a steady job. You kinda suck at this.”
Ollie cracked up. “You’re probably right. I like you, Trevon. I think you’re going to fit in well around here.”
Trevon thought Ollie would, too. He was going to talk to Gavyn and Quinn later about the prospects and what had gone down. There might be more opportunity to use salvage as part of their business strategy as they expanded.
“Hey, I’ve got nothing to do for the next hour. Want a
drink? Something to eat? My wife is a phenomenal cook. I think there are some leftover falafels in the fridge.” Trevon wasn’t sure what made him ask, but maybe it was that glimpse of loneliness he spotted in the guy’s expression before he turned to go. Trevon knew it well and could relate.
It didn’t cost anything to be kind. Besides, he was pretty short on friends himself.
“You sure that’s cool?” Ollie asked, peeking around as if it was a trap and Gavyn and Quinn were about to pop out from behind a toolbox and chase him off.
“Absolutely.” They’d be the first people to welcome a drifter.
Trevon knew, because that’s what they’d done for him. And they’d changed his entire life with that one simple act.
22
A week or so later, Quinn was wrapping up a project while Trevon had already started working on the Indian. He’d gone to the cottage to grab some design sketches he’d done the night before for the paint job.
Devra was supervising while she read a cooking magazine, making notes on the recipes inside. Every once in a while she answered the phone or fielded questions from walk-ins, not that there were many of those. She even responded to a few email inquiries for him, which he really appreciated since administrative bullshit drove him crazy.
Gavyn was out again. He hadn’t even given a reason for his absence this time. For all they knew he was at home, sneaking in some afternoon loving with Amber.
Quinn was starting to wonder if the guy was doing it on purpose, either as some misplaced matchmaking attempt or because he wanted Quinn to know he had things under control on his own.
Either way, the end result was that they had the place to themselves. Again.
And his cock wanted to do something a lot more fun than cleaning the shop or even making more progress on the Indian restoration, which was coming along nicely thanks to the parts Ollie had scrounged from who knew where.
Quinn picked up his largest wrench and started to put it away when he caught Devra peeking at him over the top of her reading material.
“Hey, baby, I’ve got a really big tool. Want to see?” he teased as he waved the metal in her direction. Stupid, yup. But he was really horny and quickly losing brain cells to blood flow problems.
“Compensating for something?” She rolled her eyes at him.
“You know I’m not, but I’m willing to prove it again if you need me to.” He reached for his waistband and began to unbuckle his belt right there in the middle of Hot Rides.
“Are you crazy?” She lunged for him and slapped her hand over his, which only meant she was a fraction of an inch from touching his dick, which was waking up faster at the prospect.
“Probably.” He stared at the ceiling, blew out a breath, then fixed himself before spinning away.
“It’s not that I don’t find you attractive.” Devra sighed. “But I’m—”
“Married. I know.” Quinn got pissed. At himself. He knew better than to do shit like that. Coming on to her when Trevon wasn’t around was a cardinal sin. He didn’t plan to cheat on anybody. He just was getting so comfortable around them, he’d started to think of them as his and him as theirs instead of a handy third for threesomes. “I’m sorry. I’m used to being around my brother and the rest of his asshole friends. I wasn’t thinking. You’re not one of the guys, you’re Trevon’s wife. I promise that won’t happen again.”
He looked in her direction, hoping it was forgiveness instead of shock, anger, or—worse—revulsion he saw. Instead, her face drained of color as she stared, guilty as fuck, at the opening to the garage.
Trevon was standing there, silhouetted by the late afternoon sun behind him.
“Whatever you heard, that was my fault.” Quinn slapped his hand to his chest. “I was being inappropriate.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you.” Trevon shrugged. “What Devra does and with whom she does it is up to her. I’m her husband, not her owner.”
“You wouldn’t care if I slept with her? Even if you weren’t around?” Quinn had a hard time believing that.
“I’d much rather watch.” Trevon adjusted his junk. “But that’s her call.”
“You’d want to see that? Me and Quinn?” Devra sounded surprised and interested by the idea. “I figured it was different. You know, you and I can do the same things he and I could. When you’re with him, he can give you things I can’t.”
“Same goes for you and him. He’s a different man than I am,” Trevon said softly. “He’s sexy, and wild, and…in charge.”
“You forgot greedy as fuck. Because if we keep talking about this, it’s going to be a thing. I’m about to fuck the shit out of your wife right here, right now.” Quinn was starting to think this day was about to go from boring to spectacular in less time than it took for him to get fully hard.
“I don’t blame you.” Trevon smiled. “She is incredible. And if that’s what she wants, that’s what you should do.”
Devra looked to Quinn and nibbled her lip. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Trevon nodded. “He’s pretty good at it, you know. I can tell you from experience.”
Enough talking. Quinn shifted gears, preparing to take them to the next level. It might have been reckless, but he couldn’t turn down a chance to have something he’d been dreaming about for weeks.
Devra. Her burgundy lips and the deep flush around her nipples. The dark hair on her mound. And the sounds she’d made that day when he’d fucked Trevon while Trevon pleased her. They’d haunted him.
He wanted a chance to inspire those noises himself. “Trevon, close up. We’ve got some private business to attend to.”
The guy did as he was told quickly and efficiently. He flipped the sign from Open to Closed, then smacked the button that controlled the garage doors. They rolled down, darkening the inside of the building and shutting with a clang.
“What if Gavyn comes back?” Devra whispered.
“Then he’ll know what I’ve felt like over and over. After all the times I’ve walked in on Tom and Ms. Brown or who knows what combination of the Hot Rods getting it on, they fucking owe me one.” He gripped Devra’s ass and squeezed it, drawing her tight to his body so she could feel his hard-on between her legs. “I need this. I need you. Now. Get over here.”
She dropped her magazine and joined him in his bay. Work would never be the same after this. He’d always remember this moment and how she was staring up at him with blatant anticipation.
“Take her clothes off,” Quinn said to Trevon, who came closer and eagerly did as he was told.
Devra stood there naked and unashamed. She stood tall. Well, tall for someone of her stature. He loved how proud she seemed, and how defiant.
That part wasn’t going to last. She’d melt all over him soon enough.
Quinn dropped his jeans and ripped off his own shirt. That was plenty to free his cock and get the job done. Today wasn’t about finesse. It was about urgency and the intensity of his desire. He reached for Devra and dragged her to him, putting his hands on her ass and lifting her.
Her hands flew to his shoulders to balance herself, but she didn’t really settle in until she wrapped her legs around his waist. They were getting closer.
The hard tips of her breasts poked his chest, making it clear she’d been as horny as he had.
Why hadn’t she said anything before? He’d have been happy to service her or watch Trevon do it instead. Just in case, he asked Trevon, “Is she wet?”
The other man came up behind Devra, kissing the back of her neck as he slid a hand beneath her and probed her pussy for Quinn.
“Soaked.” Trevon groaned. “Can I taste her?”
“Only a little. Then I have to be inside her.” Quinn thought that was generous considering how amped he was and the fact that Trevon could have her any time he and Devra liked. “Hurry.”
Trevon knelt on the hard concrete. He must have done something then because Devra moaned and squirmed enough that Quinn was glad she was petite an
d that he had a good grip on her lithe body. A few more seconds and he barked, “Enough. Trevon, put my cock in her. Now.”
The other man’s huge hand surrounded Quinn. It was warm and a little rough on his erection. Perfect. Trevon tipped Quinn’s dick up and aimed it at Devra, rubbing it against her core before nestling the head in the slick folds of her pussy.
“Damn, you weren’t kidding.” Quinn groaned. “She’s so slippery. And hot.”
“For you,” Trevon murmured.
“For you both,” Devra corrected. “Now someone better fuck me before I go crazy. Please.”
She didn’t have to ask Quinn twice. He’d seen how Trevon’s self-control had inadvertently made her doubt her appeal. She’d never have to wonder if he wanted her or how much. He was about to show her and he’d do it as often as it took for her to believe it.
Quinn held her waist and thrust upward. It took a few tries to work himself inside her deep enough to really fuck her without being in danger of falling out. A couple of times he did and Trevon was there to put him back in Devra’s pussy.
While they ground together, he tipped his head down and kissed her.
She surprised him when she bit his lower lip, goading him to ramp up his efforts.
He rocked his hips, clenching his ass to thrust into her even as he let gravity drag her down. Over and over, he stroked into her as they made out, and Trevon ran his hands over their sides and the places where they connected.
It was amazing. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
Quinn tried to separate himself from Devra, but she clung to him and whimpered.
“I’m not going far. I just need to get…deeper.” Quinn grunted on one final thrust before withdrawing from heaven. “Trevon, keep her steady. Turn her around.”
He did as told, giving Quinn time to regroup.
“Devra, put your palms on the toolbox. Bend over. Stick out your ass and hold on.” She followed orders pretty damn well herself. Quinn wondered, for a fleeting moment, if this was one reason they’d had so much trouble coming together. They both enjoyed a dominant touch. It could be problematic for a couple, he’d imagine.