by Vella Day
“I need a cock,” she yelled.
Sam laughed. “Hear that, Brandon? Our mate is already melting. We don’t want a woman who’s too easy. Where’s the challenge in that?”
She might have responded had Sam not twisted her nipple. Her protest was lost somewhere in her throat as vibrations ignited sparks of passion all over her body. If Brandon hadn’t plunged a few fingers in her pussy, curling them just so, and hitting her sweet spot over and over again, she might have been able to recover.
The pressure built, and she had to draw her breaths in faster and faster. “Ah, ah. Slower. Please. Coming. Now.”
The men increased their licking and tugging. Sam twirled one nipple while he licked and stroked the other. When Brandon nabbed her clit between his teeth, she went off like a lit firecracker and swore she heard the blast in her head.
The weight on the bed shifted and the ties disappeared. Brandon rolled her over then lifted her up on her elbows and knees. “You are too easy, darlin’. I thought you were strong.”
That pissed her off. “I am strong. You wouldn’t have lasted if I’d done something like that to you. I bet I can make Sam come before you can make me climax again.”
Brandon laughed. “You’ve got spunk, I’ll hand it to you.”
“I’m game,” Sam said. He positioned himself at her head and cupped her chin. “I hope you can withstand a lot of loving because I can control my releases.”
It was her turn to laugh. “We’ll see, big boy. No pulling out, okay?”
“Not a problem. Have at me.”
The bed dipped again, and this time Brandon slipped off, only to pull open the side drawer. He waved a condom. “We’ll have to talk about progeny one of these days, but for now we’ll play it safe.”
Mac wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. She had too many bad people to deal with first, though the idea of giving birth to one of their children held a lot of appeal. For a change, she decided to keep quiet.
While she wanted to put the condom on Brandon, she wanted to torture Sam more. He seemed so sure of himself. Her biggest hope was that she could excite Sam even while Brandon filled her with his cock. This would be a true test of her resolve.
Chapter Fifteen
Before Brandon drove her completely crazy, Mac had to tease Sam. His cock was upright and rather dark in color, implying he was already on edge. Good. If she hadn’t been his mate, she might have believed he could hold back his orgasm. Since she was theirs, being in close proximity to him might tip him over the edge sooner; or so she hoped.
She lightly dragged the tip of her finger up and down his length, stopping at the top to slide it through his wet slit.
“Grab my dick.” His words sounded like he’d rolled them over marbles.
“I thought I was in charge for the next few minutes.” She gave him an exaggerated pout.
Brandon patted her butt. “Be careful.”
She could handle Sam. “Don’t worry.” Brandon chuckled then placed his knees between hers, spreading her legs wide. “Just so you know, no matter what you do to me, I won’t be the first to cave,” she said.
“Ha. We’ll see about that. I hope you can handle my cock, darlin’.”
She’d never back down. “Then show me what you’ve got.” She’d just climaxed and was only now able to breathe evenly.
Brandon leaned against her back and cupped her breasts. “You’re not ready yet. I need to warm you up.”
What did he mean by that?
Sam tapped her head. “Don’t forget about me.”
Crap. She had the attention span of an ant. These men distracted her too much. Her main focus had to be on Sam. She wanted to make him explode before Brandon could set her off again. There was no doubt she had no control around them, but she wanted to last as long as she could.
Because she was on her elbows, both of her hands were free. She lightly clasped Sam’s cock and drew it close to her mouth. Ever so gently, she brushed the tip of her tongue along the edge of the mushroom-shaped head. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Sam’s clenched fist. Yes! She was getting to him.
Brandon twirled both nipples then brushed his palms over the tips. She might have been able to ignore the excitement had his cock not pressed against her opening. The need to have him inside her almost made her give up the fight, but she wanted Sam to eat his words.
Mac increased her palm pressure, and then swirled the tip of her tongue around the top of his cock before dragging it down his pulsating vein. Sam’s intake of breath urged her to go even slower. She would have succeeded had Brandon not seesawed his cock between her legs, causing all sorts of tremors to pulse through her body. She wished he would just drive into her and let her gain control. But no, he had to mimic her movements of taking her time.
Fine. Opening wide, she drew Sam deep into her mouth. Tongue swirling, she pumped her fist up and down fast, hoping Brandon would match her speed. He didn’t. Damn him.
Sam grabbed her shoulder and squeezed tight. “That’s it, baby. Keep doing that. Brandon, what’s taking you so long?”
She almost smiled at his desperate tone, but she didn’t want to break the seal.
“Just waiting for you to give in, Cuz.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m afraid I’m reserving that privilege for our little vixen here.”
Brandon pressed on her tits as he placed his cock at her entrance. She leaned back. That did it. He drove into her hard as he squeezed her nipples. Dear Lord. Her mind blanked. Her hand stopped moving and her lips lost their seal.
Without thinking, she clamped down on Brandon’s cock. If he went off, she would, too.
Sam has to go first.
With renewed concentration, Mac relaxed her throat and drew Sam’s cock in deeper. She pumped him hard with one hand, and when she dragged a nail across his balls with the other, they tightened into one large bead.
Sam’s hand clamped down on her head. “Jesus, girl. Take it easy.”
Not going to happen. His plea made her go for broke. As Brandon plowed into her over and over again, she pumped her fist faster and harder. Blood pounded in her ears, and she had to fight to keep enough oxygen flowing to her brain.
Brandon leaned over her back and dragged his lips across her neck. His tender kisses sent her closer to the edge.
Hold on.
Only she couldn’t. Her body had a mind of its own. All she could do was close her mouth over Sam’s cock and hope her tongue found every nerve ending, forcing him to lose control. She flicked her way up and down his hard dick while her fingers did their magic.
Brandon sunk his teeth into her shoulder as his cock banged against her back wall. She didn’t know which happened first—Brandon coming, or her mind-blowing orgasm. Before she could decide, Sam’s hot cum slammed against the back of her throat. It didn’t matter who was first. It was a tie, and all three of them were sated.
She pulled off Sam’s cock and swallowed all of his seed. He collapsed back on his heels.
Dazed, she tilted to the side and fell onto the bed, forcing Brandon to disengage.
“Dear God in heaven,” Brandon said. “That was incredible.”
She would have added her two cents had she the energy to speak.
Sam said nothing, but she suspected he was as drained as she was.
Brandon slipped off the bed, found a wet towel, and returned. Once he cleaned her, she crawled up the bed and snuggled against Sam’s back.
He reached around and pulled her tight. “I think you won, baby. That blowjob was the best I’ve ever had.”
She shook her head. “No one won or lost. We’re all winners.”
Brandon slid behind her and held her tight. “You got that right.”
* * *
For the rest of the evening, the three of them huddled around Mac’s computer. She’d been very open with them about her recent research, revealing everything she’d found. Apparently, she’d impressed them so much with wha
t she’d uncovered that Sam and Brandon shared what they’d learned about each man, too. She asked about going out in the field with them, but Sam was adamant about her staying put. As far as she was concerned, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. After all, it wasn’t like they were married. Even then, Mac wasn’t sure that would stop her from doing her duty. Her goal had to be finding Cheryl.
Around eight the next morning, after a rather restless night of sex and thinking, both men kissed her goodbye and headed off to work. She told them she’d be investigating all day. It wasn’t her fault if they assumed she’d be sitting at her computer, tapping away. Eventually, they’d learned that wasn’t her style. Her PI firm expected her to do just that, and she was tired of the constraint. She wanted the action, the excitement. Because the company owners understood that in order to keep her, they had to let her in on some of the investigations or she’d find work elsewhere.
Mac studied her screen once more. There were ten men, who, in all probability, had purchased one or more women from John Hood and associates. While she probably should start with a thorough computer search on all of them first, she wasn’t sure how long her men would be at their cover jobs, so she didn’t have time to waste. From what she could tell, Sam really did perform the duties of a full-time deputy. That would mean he probably wouldn’t pop back home without cause. She had to hand it to him. He worked hard and seemed quite driven, too. Some inner demon appeared to be driving Sam, and someday, she’d find out what it was.
Brandon’s schedule didn’t seem as set, as evidenced by his ability to drop everything yesterday and come home. For the most part, he said he could stop in whenever she needed him. If he came home on a whim, and found her gone, he might freak, which meant she had to take advantage of the time he was at work.
Today, her plan was merely to scope out the first few men on the list. She had no intention of trying to break-in anywhere. This mission was to get a feel for their properties, what kind of neighbors they had, and the best ingress and egress.
With her laptop tucked safely in her purse, she headed out. As Mac slipped into the front seat of her rental, Brandon’s comment about the road noise when she’d called him to tell him she was moving in, troubled her. Werewolves had great hearing, but the phone would have dampened some of the grinding of the tires on the pavement. A wild thought entered her brain, but she quickly dismissed it. The men wouldn’t have had the nerve to put a tracker on her car, would they? If they had, when would they have done it?
Mac started the engine and let it run. When Sam had first seen the dockside tape of her looking into each of the warehouse windows, and then ran her profile, he’d found her arrest record. If she’d been them, she would have wanted to keep an eye on her, especially if she was at the site of Cheryl’s abduction. Mac shivered at the thought of what Cheryl was going through right now, but she couldn’t dwell on it, or she’d never get anything done.
Just look.
To put the troubling thought to rest, she climbed out, walked to the back of her car, and ran her hand under the bumper.
“Fuck.”
She ripped off the tiny device, and was about to stomp on it, when she got a brilliant idea. If the men believed she was safe and sound inside their house, they probably wouldn’t come home to check on her. For now, she’d place the device under the cushion on the porch chair. If she went some place innocuous, she’d take it with her. Simple. The men would never catch on.
In case one of them happened to be driving toward the house as she was leaving, she’d filled out a shopping list to show them. Having an explanation why she was out would go a long way to soothing those two beasts. Luck was with her, and she made it to town without spotting either man.
First stop was Carl Hampton’s estate. Because he worked from home as a day trader, she had no plans to stomp around the outside of his house and look in the windows. She’d be caught for sure. Her plan was merely to snap a few pictures of his movements, as well as those of the surrounding neighborhood in case she needed to return at a later time.
If only she understood human trafficking better, she’d feel more confident about her search. It also would have helped if she’d known whether someone like Carl treated a woman like a commodity—that is, something to trade—or would he store his newly acquired possession someplace to use when his wife wasn’t satisfying him? If that were true, he’d need a second location, making Cheryl that much harder to find. To make matters worse, all this speculation was predicated on the assumption that all ten men still had the women they’d purchased. A sharp pain ran down her arm. Christ. She rubbed the ache and inhaled deeply.
The more she thought about the huge task in front of her, the faster Mac’s heart sank. Despite the tall hurdles, she was determined to succeed. Once or twice she’d contemplated asking the men to help, but the past had proven that too many hands messed things up.
As she neared Hampton’s home, the image of a tied up and gagged woman surfaced. Would he drag her out just to use and abuse her? Or would he care for his expensive investment? What confused Mac was why buy a woman instead of hiring a hooker when his urges got the best of him? Damn. All these ideas disturbed her more than she cared to admit.
She finally reached Carl Hampton’s neighborhood. He lived across town, on the northwest edge of Gulfside. If the huge mansions were any indication, it was where all the rich people resided.
Despite the wonders of the glorious, balmy day, bright sunlight wasn’t always the best for taking pictures. The glare could kill a shot, not to mention the backlighting would silhouette a person to the point of making them unidentifiable. But Mac was not deterred. If she spotted the man, she’d take her chances and hope for the best.
From her research, the wife didn’t work. Given it was close to Christmas, no telling if the kids were out for vacation or not. While Carl Hampton might be rich, she couldn’t imagine a wife putting up with a man who brought home another woman—especially if he’d purchased her. Then again, there was a lot of kinky shit happening these days.
Mac drove around the neighborhood, amazed at the opulence. Almost everyone had some kind of gate in front of his house, making getting close impossible. Damn. She’d have to go to plan B, which was to take a walk in the hope someone would leave the Hampton compound. If she was near, and the gate slow, she might be able to sneak in without anyone noticing. If she did get caught she could say she was a professional photographer, specializing in family photos taken at the person’s house. People ate that shit up.
For the next hour, she walked up and down the street, but never once did Carl Hampton’s gate open. Christ. How did he stand staying cooped up inside all day? She’d have gone stir crazy.
By the time three p.m. rolled around, she was hot, tired, and her feet hurt. If only she’d been able to shift, she would have leapt over the damn shrubs. Perhaps she should swallow her pride and ask Sam and Brandon to get close to this guy. She might have to move on to someone else.
Since she hadn’t even eaten lunch, she hiked back to her car, and drove home. Luckily, neither man was there. She promptly fixed a sandwich and went back to doing more research. There had to be something that would help her find out whether this man had Cheryl. Evil men often came from troubled pasts.
Mac started with recent news stories and worked her way backward. Finally, under the crime section in a paper from thirty years ago, an article mentioned a teenager who claimed Carl Hampton had raped her behind the school bleachers after a football game.
Mac dug deeper but found nothing more about the trial, or if he was sent to juvenile detention. When she did the math, she realized Carl would have been seventeen at the time. She speculated that with his family money, his records had been sealed. But did it matter? Mac could contact his accuser. Mary Whitmore would be about forty-seven. Even if the woman lived in town, what good would it do to dredge up the past? The fact Carl Hampton had purchased a woman implied he was scum, which was all Mac needed to be convinced tha
t he was low enough to not only be a Colter, but to buy a woman from one.
Mac was not ready to give up though. There had to be more. For the next two hours, she dug into Hampton’s family members. She learned where his wife got her nails done, which school the kids went to, and where he had his car detailed. From Sam, she’d already learned that Carl’s parents were dead, and that he and his brother had inherited the fortune. While there were bad apples in families, she suspected the brother might be cut from the same cloth.
Because she didn’t have time to scope out the next man on the list before one of her men returned home, she did a quick check on brother Bill. To her surprise, he’d been in a car accident two years ago, leaving him a quadriplegic. The chances of him having Cheryl were slim, so she decided to come back to him later if all else failed.
Happy with her progress for the day, she took a break and went grocery shopping, figuring the men would probably appreciate a home-cooked meal. She envisioned all of them discussing the case, and then having mind-boggling sex.
Chapter Sixteen
Mac was smiling when she woke up the next morning. Who knew her men would be so excited to have her make them spaghetti and meatballs? Sam, in particular, had been highly complimentary. As happy as she was to hear she was a good cook, she was more thrilled to see him so content.
The big upside to last night had been the incredible sex. The downside was the lack of sharing between the men and her. They claimed they were busy at work and hadn’t had time to do their Pack stuff. Mac didn’t buy it. Sam and Brandon were too driven to let their jobs get in the way of searching for Cheryl. When she’d asked them which of the ten men they were targeting, they wouldn’t tell her. Sam said she’d just end up sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. Damn men. From the way Sam kept watching her all night, she suspected he feared she’d get into trouble.