by Madelynne Ellis, Fleur T. Reid, Nan Comargue, Shannon Peters, Morticia Knight, Jordyn Mckenzie
“What’s that smile for?” he asked.
“I’m happy.” It was true.
“Fair enough,” he replied with a gentle smile, and I lay back against the pillows as he kissed me again, more passionately this time. I began to unbutton his shirt while he stroked and caressed my breasts, teasing my nipples through the thin satin of my bra. They strained against the scant fabric, hardening further in the coolness of the room. I felt Parker settle on the bed, straddling my lower legs as he leant down to kiss the exposed skin of my stomach, tracing my navel with his tongue while he nimbly unbuttoned my jeans and made quick work of sliding them down my legs.
Damien sat up briefly to unclasp and remove my bra, taking a moment to stare down at me reverently. “So beautiful,” he murmured, before lowering his head to my chest. Drowning in ecstasy as he suckled and teased, while Parker was now kissing and nipping his way up my inner thighs, I forced my eyes open against my passionate haze to watch my body being worshipped by two incredible men. It was an amazing sight to behold and only caused my core to become impossibly wetter with arousal.
Ever observant, Parker noticed this when his nose lightly brushed across my satin-covered slit. “Your panties are drenched, baby girl,” he purred. “Do you like what we’re doing to you?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I love it, please don’t stop.”
“Oh, I had no intention of stopping,” he chuckled. “I’m not nearly the gentleman that Damien is.”
“Fuck off, Parker,” Damien muttered, lazily laving his tongue across my areola. I fisted my hand in Damien’s short hair to hold him in place.
“God, Damien,” I moaned.
“I’ll show you who’s God,” Parker said, blowing gently across the wetness of my panties. The cool air filtering through the damp fabric against my clit made me shudder. Glancing up at me with a wicked grin, he placed his mouth over my clit, pressing his tongue flat against it before sealing his mouth over the spot and sucking.
“Oh my God!” I cried. The sensation was incredible. No man had ever turned me on before the way Parker and Damien were. I whimpered in protest when Parker suddenly moved his mouth away.
“How attached are you to these panties?” he asked.
“Um…” I had no idea why he was asking me that, but apparently I’d waited too long to come up with a legitimate response because they were suddenly ripped off me.
“I hope those weren’t expensive, but they were in my way. I did ask first,” Parker reasoned before burying his nose between my folds in earnest. “You taste so fucking good, Lexi. Better than I could have ever imagined,” he groaned, sliding his blessedly long tongue into my cunt and waggling it for emphasis.
“Oh, fuck!” I cried, my hips bucking up from the mattress of their own accord.
Parker gripped my hips firmly to hold me still. “Settle down, baby girl, I’m just getting started.”
Overwhelmed by the sensory overload I was experiencing between the manipulations of the two men, I gently pushed Damien’s face away from my chest. He looked at me in confusion. “Strip,” I panted. “I want to touch you.”
He stood up from the bed and peeled his pants down, his erection straining against his boxer briefs until he quickly shed those too. He took a moment to watch what Parker was doing to me. “Mmm,” he moaned, licking his lips as he stroked his length absently. “Save some of that for me, my friend.”
“Will do,” Parker replied pleasantly, as though he were agreeing to save Damien a slice of pizza and wasn’t currently buried tongue-deep in my pussy.
“Come here,” I said to Damien. He stepped closer and, propping myself up on my elbow, I reached my hand towards him to wrap around his length.
“Ah, Lexi,” he sighed as I slid my hand firmly up and down his shaft, rubbing my palm across the moisture at the tip and spreading it around him to lubricate the motion of my hand.
“Get over here,” I urged breathlessly, grabbing his ass to pull him closer. He climbed up on the bed, settling on his knees beside me and I took him into my mouth.
One hand knitted through my hair to guide my head as the other travelled back down my chest, squeezing a breast before trailing down lower. “Let me give you a hand there, bro,” Damien said to Parker. He began rubbing and pinching my clit while Parker began fucking me with his tongue in earnest. I moaned around Damien’s cock, the vibration causing him to moan in return, thrusting it nearly down my throat. His fingers tightened in my hair as he growled, “Fuck, Alexis, that feels so fucking good.”
He rubbed my clit even faster, harder, as Parker buried his tongue in me as far as it would go, and I could take no more. I pulled my mouth away from Damien’s cock as the tremors overcame me. “Fuck!” I screamed, throwing my head back into the pillow as my body was racked with quakes of pleasure.
Parker sat up on his knees, his face shiny with my juices, and grinned at me before moving up my body to kiss me so that I could taste my essence. He drew away but I held his head fast between my hands, making eye contact with him before dragging my tongue around his lips, licking him clean. “I knew you had a naughty side,” he said with a smirk. Damien swooped in to capture my lips just then, drinking in my flavour as his tongue explored my mouth.
“Trade spots with me, Damien,” Parker said, moving off to the side of me. My bed was a queen, so it wasn’t quite large enough to fit the three of us together. “I got our girl nice and wet for you.”
Damien took a minute to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his jeans he’d discarded on the floor and slipped it on before he kneeled between my legs, lowering his body over mine to kiss me again. “I need to be inside you,” he murmured, pressing his hips against mine, hissing as he slid his cock between my folds.
I was still sensitive down there from Parker’s enthusiastic feast, but I needed to feel him in me too. “Please,” I urged him. With a slow, languorous movement, he sheathed himself within me, filling me to the hilt. It felt incredible. “Ungh, more…” I moaned, gripping the muscles of his ass as I bucked my hips, encouraging him to move faster.
He began to thrust a little faster, rising up on his knees to allow Parker some access to me. Parker kissed my lips, my neck, my breasts, touching my body all over as Damien moved within me.
After a moment, inspiration struck. “Let me get on my hands and knees,” I said to Damien.
He moved away and I quickly rolled over to get into position. Cueing into my train of thought, Parker slid onto the bed between me and the headboard. Damien gripped my hips and thrust into me from behind, making us both cry out in pleasure at the depth achieved by this new position. “Fuck, yes,” I cried out, while taking Parker’s cock in hand. He sat back, leisurely lying against the pillows that were propped against the headboard, watching me and watching Damien fuck me with a pleased smirk. “Now this is a fan-fucking-tastic sight to behold.”
Determined to wipe that smirk off his face, I dipped my head down and engulfed the majority of his length down my throat. Watching him as I did so, I was pleased to see I’d succeeded.
His eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned, “Holy fucking shit, Lexi.”
It was my turn to smirk at Parker. “Damn straight, baby. Watch me work.” Rolling my hips against Damien, I carefully supported myself on my arms as I moved my mouth up and down Parker’s shaft in time with Damien’s thrusts. The cocky smirk from Parker’s face was gone, replaced by a look of awe and pleasure. I would have giggled if Damien didn’t have me teetering dangerously close to another mind-blowing orgasm.
I could feel my inner muscles begin to contract around his cock, and though I couldn’t see Damien’s face, I could hear his chant, “Oh fuck, so good, oh fuck, so good,” over and over through what sounded like clenched teeth.
Parker fisted his hand tighter in my hair as he started lifting his hips to meet my mouth. “I’m close, baby girl, so fucking close. God, don’t stop!” Pulling a final trick out of my proverbial hat, I slid my pinky finger into his ass as I deep-t
hroated as much of his cock as possibly I could, sending him over the edge with a guttural cry. Spurts of his cum slid down my throat, until I couldn’t take any more and I pulled away, feeling some of the creamy warmth ooze from my lips and down my chin.
Damien pulled me up so that my back was against his chest, gripping my hip with one hand and firmly squeezing my breast with the other while he pounded into my throbbing cunt. “Do you know how fucking sexy you are?” His voice was little more than a growl in my ear, making me realise that Damien had a feral side to him too. He gave two more solid thrusts into me and as I felt his dick begin to twitch within me, signalling his end, he lightly bit me on the neck while pinching my clit. I saw fireworks as I exploded around him, screaming his name; Parker watched the scene unfold through heavy, lust-laden eyes.
He made room on the bed as I collapsed beside him, snuggling closer to him to allow Damien to lie down and spoon me on the other side. Our bodies were wet with sweat and the room reeked of sex. I’d never been happier.
“Guys?” My voice broke into the sudden silence of the room, save for the sound of our panting to catch our breath.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Lexi?” They both answered in response.
“We’re gonna need a bigger bed.”
About the Author
By day, I work a 9-to-5 desk job. When night falls, and the house is quiet and calm, I put pencil to paper, fingers to keyboard, and hoist my freak flag fly as high as it will go.
Hi. I’m Jordyn. I like to write. No, let me rephrase that: I LOVE to write. I’ve loved it since I was a kid and now that I’m a grown-ass thirty-hush-yo-mouth, it’s my passion. And to get to the nitty-gritty, my passion is passion.
My stories go beyond the coquettish cat-and-mouse game of love. These aren’t your grandmama’s romance novels.
Having dabbled in writing since my t’weens, a recently realised knack for telling a titillating tale spurred my decision to share my talent with the world. Strong, sassy women, roughneck men, and snarky dialogue are my speciality. My number one goal—to entertain YOU, dear reader.
I enjoy good wine, better whisky, and the occasional belly laugh with my best friends; not necessarily in that order, but even better when combined.
Email: [email protected]
Jordyn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Treble
By
Lisabet Sarai, Desiree Holt, Elizabeth Coldwell,
Lily Harlem, Wendi Zwaduk & Imari Jade
Excerpt
Trouble at the Treble T by Desiree Holt
The jukebox had been playing nonstop in the honky-tonk since five o’clock, nothing unusual for a Friday night. People got off work for the weekend, ranch hands started filtering in, the beer began flowing and soon the postage-stamp-sized dance floor was filled with bodies gyrating to old and new country tunes.
Cade Thompson sat with his brothers, Justin and Mark, at a table in the corner of Treble Shooters watching people move to the music—faces flushed, hips wriggling, practically having sex with their clothes on while Travis Tritt and Lady Antebellum echoed off the wooden walls of the honky tonk. They’d spent a hard week with the hands moving cattle from one pasture to the other and culling those for branding. Tonight they’d decided to give themselves a break from the ranch and hang out at the bar they’d bought when the previous owner died. Spring Valley was small enough as it was, with few entertainment options. They didn’t want to see the only real place their hands could hang out close down.
Getting a full-time manager on a permanent basis, though, had been harder than they’d expected. Apparently the list of people who wanted to relocate to Spring Valley was a short one. The men had been burning both ends of the candle—running the Treble T ranch during the day and taking turns running the bar at night-when fortune had finally smiled on them.
Now Cade looked over at the bar, watching as Marti Jensen poured three drinks at once without breaking a sweat, and gave silent thanks once more for the day she’d walked in. He admired the way she kept her cool with all the chaos around her—the raised voices, the clicking of pool balls, the heavy thump of a bass and the squeal of the slide guitar, the lone waitress fighting for her attention along with everyone crowded at the bar demanding their drink now.
She was tall, maybe five-ten.
Just right for three brothers who all top six-four.
Stop! What are you thinking?
But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her lush body. The way the Treble Shooters T-shirt fell softly against her ripe breasts and the jeans clung lovingly to the finest ass he’d seen in a long time. The way her riot of curly black hair cascaded down her back and framed a face with high cheekbones, violet cat’s eyes and full, sensual lips. He’d wanted to fuck her since the day she’d walked in with the San Antonio classified rolled up in her hand and said in her saucy tone of voice, “Someone in here looking for a manager?” And ever since, he’d done his best to try and push the thought out of his mind.
Wild About That Thing by Lisabet Sarai
Ruby could feel it in her bones. It was going to be a good night. Only ten thirty, but most of the tables clustered ‘round the stage were full. Lori had already lugged two extra cases of Heineken—tonight’s beer special—up from the basement, and from the looks of the empties accumulating in front the customers, they were going fast. The bartender caught Ruby’s eye and gave her a thumbs up. Everything under control.
Up front, the Night Travellers hit a dark groove, wailing through Born Under a Bad Sign. Zeke’s fingers flew over the strings, improvising a high riff, while Jojo’s bass kept the song grounded. “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all,” Zeke growled, torturing his guitar to match the pain in his voice. Damn, but the man sounded black, despite the mop of straw-coloured hair he kept pushing out of his eyes. Born in Mississippi, he must’ve soaked up blues in the water and the air. Certainly he could play with the best. Ruby was lucky to have him and his band, given the pittance she could afford to pay them.
As if he sensed her attention, Zeke picked her out of the shadows at the back of the club. She felt the warmth of the smile he beamed to her, a smile totally at odds with the desperate mood of the song. You know why Zeke plays here, her inner critic commented. You’re just taking advantage of him.
He gets what he wants, she argued with the internal voice that sounded so very much like her mother’s. I treat him fine. Of course, she got as much out of their relationship as he did. Zeke was a strong man with powerful desires. He could set her on fire. It wasn’t her fault that he was so sentimental. You wouldn’t expect it from a rough and tumble guy like Zeke Chambers—ten years a New York cabbie, a guy who’d seen every horror the city could dish out.
Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket, interrupting her train of thought.
“Hey, hon. What’s up? You should be in bed.”
“I’m going, Mama. I just want to finish this chapter…”
“Isaiah Jones, it’s nearly eleven and tomorrow’s a school night! You shut your light off right now!”
“Okay, okay, Mama! But don’t forget about your meeting tomorrow with Ms Rodriguez.”
Orchestrating Manoeuvres by Lily Harlem
I flopped back on my mountain of pillows, gasping, writhing and shoving Enrique—my new thick, black Rampant Rocker vibrator—into my pussy higher and harder. He was great—long, wide and lined with vein-shaped ridges. And because he was so new to my collection, he seemed to have extra energy, extra enthusiasm for pleasing me. It was as if he was competing for a favoured position in my top drawer.
“Oh, yes, yes,” I called out, upping the speed and finally letting his wicked forked attachment buzz around my clit. “Oh, yes, Enrique!” I twanged forward, sweat forming in my cleavage and my heart pounding. Flattening my palm over my pussy, I held
him against my deliciously tormented clitoris. Electric sensations surged through my nerves. My internal muscles clamped and moisture seeped over his shaft, easing his way as I pumped his impressive girth in and out, in and out.
I squeezed my eyelids shut and instantly Dale’s face appeared before me, a hot sheen on his brow and his mouth parted as he gave in to a fierce climax. Tearing open my eyes to shake the painful, memory-laden image, I stared at the huge framed poster of my own face gracing the cover of Vogue last month and came—sharp, intense and breath-taking. God, Enrique is good, worth every penny.
Panting, I pulled Enrique out and tossed him to the bottom of the bed. He’d served his purpose. Started my day with an orgasm. That was why I’d bought him. Carlo just wasn’t doing it for me anymore, his pink, plastic shaft pale and insipid, his rotating glans no longer a novelty and he just didn’t hit the spot with his thin little ears.
I glanced at the clock and sighed. Ten forty-five. I supposed I should get out of bed. Perhaps I could go and get a pedicure—I was already fed up with the Baby Bunting-coloured nail varnish I’d had applied three days ago at The Spa. Or maybe Naomi would be up for champagne and caviar at Jenson’s. I frowned and tried to remember if she was eating at the moment. I couldn’t be sure, but it was worth a try. I rolled onto my stomach and reached for my cell. There were two missed calls, one from my agent and one from my mother. I would sort them out tomorrow.
Three-part Harmony by Elizabeth Coldwell
Mark quit the band six days before we were due to embark on our comeback tour.
It was the timing that really upset me, more than the news itself. After all, I’d been expecting him to leave at almost any time over the last eleven years, ever since the day I’d told him Stefan and I were getting married. Instead, he’d stayed—channelling all his sense of loss, betrayal and stone-cold determination never to let another woman hurt him the way I had, into songs that catapulted us to a level of international success far beyond our wildest dreams. Even during the eighteen-month hiatus we’d effectively been on between finishing our last tour and starting work on our latest CD, Mark had given no indication he was unhappy with the state of affairs. Indeed, the flow of ideas, the creative understanding between the three of us who wrote the songs, was as strong as it ever had been. So why walk out now, when Older, No Wiser was top of the download charts and the concert promoters were adding extra dates to the tour after the original ones had sold out within hours?