by Chloe Lane
I'm not tired enough, though, to keep the thoughts of Grace, sleeping only feet away in my own bedroom, out of my head. And they’re not respectable thoughts, either. I want her on her knees, her huge blue eyes looking up at me, her blonde hair still fixed up in that bun bobbing along as she wraps her lush lips around my hard cock and takes all of it in. I want her bent over on the bed, moaning my name, as I invade her tight pussy with every rock-hard inch of my length, begging me for more.
Another image flashes into my mind, but this one is an actual memory, one I haven't thought about in a long time—sinking my cock into another woman from behind, while Jett stood in front of her, growling commands at her as he took her mouth. It happened when we were off getting our mechanic certifications after a wild night at the bar. We both wanted her. We both took her.
I turn uncomfortably on my side, my cock throbbing incessantly. That's something a girl like Grace would never want.
It takes what seems like hours for me to finally fall asleep.
The hiss of frying bacon pulls me out of a dream I'm having about Grace—Grace spread wide for me on my bed, her hands flung up over her head, writhing and murmuring my name over and over. I’m about to fuck her, but then the luring scent of bacon becomes too much.
Where the hell am I?
I push myself up groggily on the couch.
Grace is in the kitchen, moving from the countertop to the stovetop. And she's wearing one of my t-shirts.
I'm instantly wide awake, scrambling for the blanket to pull up over the tent pole bursting out of my boxers.
She turns around at the rustling sound, a pretty blush coming to her cheeks, her blue eyes wide and apologetic. “Did I wake you up?”
“Not so much you as the bacon.”
She purses her lips. “I'm sorry, Hunter. I just wanted to make breakfast as a thank-you for last night. I was hoping you'd sleep through it.”
“You can repay me with some of that bacon.”
Grace grins at me, eyes dancing, and then turns back to the stove. “I’m making eggs, too. And toast.”
I get up from the couch, holding the blanket casually in front of me, and head for the bathroom. “You're too much.”
When I come back, she's setting out plates on the table, bending her hips over the edge to reach across. The shirt rides up to reveal—no shit—white panties and the sweet curve of her ass. I have to stifle a groan. “When do you think Jett will be up?” She turns as she says it, and the look in her eyes tells me that the bulge in the front of my jeans isn't something she can ignore.
With a little gasp, she looks down at herself and seems to remember that she's not dressed. Her face goes scarlet, but she straightens up tall. “I'm going to go put on some clothes. I wanted to run my other outfit through the wash, but I got busy making breakfast...”
I can't fucking help myself. I can't. I step close to her and run the back of my hand down the side of her face. “You could do that. Or you could just stay as you are. I don't mind.”
She looks up at me, her breasts rising and falling underneath the shirt, and then she bites her lip, leaning her face into my touch. “You wouldn't?”
“Not at all. You can even put your clothes in the wash right now, if you want.”
Something in her expression shifts, and a wave of desire floods every nerve. “What do you want?”
7
Grace
I'm tempting him, and I know it, but I woke up in Hunter's bed this morning, breathing in his scent and feeling hot and bothered from a night of dreams featuring his muscled body.
And Jett's.
The two of them were so intertwined in my mind when I fell asleep that they both played starring roles in the filthy dreams I had, and when my eyes flew open this morning in the bedroom—unfamiliar, yet so safe—I was already soaking wet.
I didn't take much when I left the apartment I had with Dale, so I had to settle for my one clean pair of panties and one of Hunter's shirts. It smelled like him, softened from lots of trips through the washing machine, and it felt good against my skin. I left my other clothes, including my bra, in a little pile by the door. I was going to put them in the machine once I started frying up the bacon, but one thing led to another—
Hunter looks at me, his dark eyes pools of liquid want, and something a little darker that causes a shiver to run down my spine. A delicious shiver. A shiver that's making me feel even braver than I did when I woke up. This is the first day in a long time that I've been free, and it's going straight to my head.
And I don't care.
“I spent a long time thinking about you last night,” he finally says, his voice so low that it's almost a growl.
“What about me?” I want to know. I want to know so desperately, I almost can't stop myself from repeating the question.
“You're sweet, Grace.” He lingers over the words, and I need more of them. Then he glances down at the front of his pants, where my eyes have been dropping again and again. “You're too sweet.”
“I don't have to be sweet.” The heat is sweeping up from my hips to my breasts, my nipples pebbling against the fabric of his shirt. “I don't want to be sweet.”
“You don't?” He lifts his hand again, drawing two fingers from the nape of my neck around to my jawline. Hunter drags his thumb over my lower lip, and I open my mouth on instinct. He puts the pad of his thumb against my teeth and I bite down, just daring to flick my tongue over the end, near his nail. He groans, then slips his thumb out of my mouth and lets his hand fall to my breast, rubbing over the hard nipple there. The grin that comes over his face is so wicked, it makes my pussy throb. “You don't.”
“I know I look...” I can hardly get a breath in, because he reaches for the other nipple, pinching it through the fabric of the shirt, drawing a gasp from me.
“Fuckable?”
“What the hell?” Jett's voice bursts out from the other side of the kitchen, and I jump, coming back down a foot away from Hunter. Jett's green eyes are blazing with anger, but that's not all I notice. The front of his boxers are not doing much to hide an absolutely massive bulge. It's on par with the monster that’s making a tent in Hunter's boxers.
Hunter turns to face him, his every muscle tensed. “Look—”
“I don't have to look,” Jett spits. “I can see just fine.” His jaw works, and cold fear snakes into my gut. His face is red, eyes narrowed, and my heart plunges to my feet. I didn't want to come between them. In fact, seeing them in the same room like this, facing off...
“Don't be angry with him, Jett.” The words burst out of me, and that furious gaze shifts to me. I recoil a little bit. I can't help myself. “We were—”
But when Jett speaks, it's to Hunter, not to me. “You were going to take her without me?”
Take her? The words should disgust me, but instead, hot desire consumes my core. Hunter glances back at me, his eyes searching mine, and then he looks back at Jett. “That wasn't—that's not what happened. I woke up, and we started talking—”
Jett crosses his arms defiantly in front of his chest, his eyes asking the question a second time. There's an undercurrent in the air that I can't quite decipher. Are they fighting, or are they negotiating a decision?
The silence goes on too long, crackling in the air. Hunter shifts, running a hand through his hair, and I can't take the tension any longer. I step in front of him, putting myself between the two tall, muscled men, both of whom I want desperately to have their way with me.
“You don't have to fight,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even. Being between them like this, the object of their intense gaze, is making me gush. “I want—” I can hardly bring myself to say it. It's probably the most reckless thing—the most inappropriate thing—a girl like me could ever want. It's especially mortifying that I'd even dream of saying it out loud.
But just yesterday, I was running for my life. I was lost, and Hunter found me and brought me to this place, a place he shares with Jett. Last night
was the first time in at least two years that I haven't had to worry about what would happen when Dale came home, and it's not just the distance I put between us. I knew, deep down, that Hunter and Jett would protect me. I felt it in their embrace before I went to sleep last night.
“Please.” I can feel their eyes burning into me from either side, and I press my thighs together beneath the t-shirt, trying to get even the hint of release. “I couldn't stop thinking about you last night,” I say, and my voice is a breathless plea that I can't control. “Both of you. I've never felt as good as I felt sandwiched between the two of you on your sofa, with both of your hands on me.”
I take in a deep breath and square my shoulders. Their eyes are glued to me, and I've never felt sexier—or more inexperienced—in my entire life. “I want you…both of you.” And then I can't help saying it again. “Please?”
8
Jett
The way the plea falls from Grace's perfect lips, somewhere between moaning and begging, has me harder than I ever thought was possible. It overrides every rational thought in my brain, every sharp spike of anger, and replaces it all with a primal need so powerful that I'm moving before I realize what I'm doing.
Hunter is moving, too, and we reach her at the same time. I lock eyes with him over her head for one split second. Just like that, we've both backed down, both turned our focus onto the only thing that matters in this moment—her.
I've been lying awake half the night, images of her body consuming every inch of my imagination, but nothing—nothing—compares to how it feels to wrap my hands underneath her face, lifting her lips toward mine, and covering my mouth with hers. She lets out a little whimper into my mouth, pressing her body against me. Neither of us are pretending to ignore the steel rod in my pants.
I kiss her like I've wanted to kiss her since I first saw her standing in the center of the apartment, losing myself in the sweetness of her mouth until she leans her head back. Hunter is concentrating on running his lips down the side of her neck, and the soft moan that escapes her mouth is the only sound I've ever wanted to hear. I don't even give a fuck that it was him that drew it out of her and not me.
This time.
When she arches back like that, her head falling against his shoulder, it presses her breasts out toward me in an open invitation. I cup both her breasts in my large work-calloused hands, testing the weight—they're not huge, but they're perky, and her nipples are hard pebbles under what looks like Hunter's t-shirt. There's a quiet spike of jealousy that shoots through my gut, but this wasn't planned. Maybe tonight she'll sleep in my room.
But when I rub my thumbs over her nipples, then pinch them hard enough to make her gasp, all the jealousy flies out of me. All I want right now is to make her come. Hard. More than once.
Hunter wraps his arms around her from behind, guiding her toward the soft rug in the middle of the living room. It's the closest space where we can all be together, and it reminds me of that girl we shared when we were off earning our certification as auto mechanics and spending every night in the bar. I'd thought that was something special. Now I see it was nothing. Nothing. Grace? She’s everything.
Grace turns in Hunter's arms, and it's his turn to taste her, his turn to explore her mouth with his tongue. I hardly have time to wish she was back in my arms before she breaks away, doing something I never thought she would do.
She drops to her knees in front of Hunter, looking up at him, and then reaches for the hem of her shirt.
When she strips it off, my cock jumps in anticipation.
Grace is pure perfection, a fucking angel descended from heaven. The curve of her waist into her hips is a siren song, and I drop to my knees behind her, biting at the side of her neck. She sucks in another breath, and as I hook my thumbs into the waistband of her panties, she's reaching for the buckle of Hunter's belt.
She tugs his jeans down, and then his boxers, and when his huge cock springs out in front of her face, Grace gasps, covering her mouth with one hand, rocking back against me. I don't give her time to settle. I trace my fingers over her naked breasts and give her nipples another hard tweak.
“Do you like that?” I growl it into her ear over the sound of her moans.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“There's more for you to like,” Hunter says, and then his hand is on the back of her head, pulling her toward him.
Grace spreads her legs, her panties stretched between her knees, and takes his cock in both of her hands. I feel her shiver a little under my touch.
“Don't worry, sweetheart,” I murmur into her ear. “You can take it. And more.” Then I slip my hand between her legs and give her hot, slickened slit a firm stroke with two thick fingers. When she opens her mouth to groan, Hunter presses her head forward, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.
I stroke her again and again, as she takes all of Hunter in, my own hardness pressing against her back. I'm working her hard, rolling her nipples between my fingers.
Grace's legs start to shake, a trembling that begins at her hips and goes all the way down to her toes. She spreads wider as Hunter's cock disappears into her mouth inch by inch, and she's moaning again when I hear the hitch in her voice that tells me he hit the back of her throat.
Then the angel straightens her back and swallows, and Hunter's steady stream of encouragements breaks off into a low growl. “Fuck,” I whisper in spite of myself. I can't believe she's taking him like this.
I can't wait to see what else she can handle.
But first, I'm going to be the one to give her the first orgasm of the day. And I'll be damned if it's the last.
I work two fingers inside of her, reaching between her legs from behind and steadying her with my other hand, and muffled whimpers rise up from around Hunter's cock. He's fucking her throat with a steady rhythm, one that I match with my fingers, and Grace's hips buck forward, fucking herself on my hand, her muscles squeezing my fingers tight, and then tighter.
With a grunt, Hunter starts to come—Grace swallows every drop—and I use that moment to curl my fingers inside of her.
Her orgasm is explosive.
Grace cries out around Hunter's softening cock as she comes, her legs shaking so hard I have to hold her up, her pussy pulsing on my fingers for what seems like a long time.
When she finally comes down, she leans her head back, resting it on my shoulder, and Hunter raises both hands above his head, a satisfied expression on his face for a split second before his eyes narrow. I know exactly what he's thinking.
“Thank you,” Grace whispers.
“Don't thank us yet,” Hunter says, his voice commanding. “We're just getting started.”
9
Grace
A thrill tingles down every inch of my bare skin at the words out of Hunter’s mouth. His dark eyes are fiercely focused on mine, burning with desire, and it doesn’t seem to matter that I’ve just taken the massive length of him down my throat and made him come, his cock expanding in my mouth as he lost control.
“We’re not?”
“Not by half,” Jett says, and then he’s lifting me to my feet while Hunter drops to his knees. Hunter reaches for my panties—they’re ruined, soaked—and pushes them roughly to the floor so I can step out of them.
Now I’m completely naked, completely exposed, and completely on fire for them. Thank God they’re not done with me because I’m not done with them, either, by a long shot.
Hunter spreads my legs wide and leans forward, pressing his lips gently to my clit, and another wave of sheer pleasure rockets through me, making me thrust my hips toward his face. He sucks my clit into his mouth, rolling the swollen bud between his teeth, and I can’t stop the pleading sounds I’m making. Dale never did anything like this for me. Not once. And if I’m honest, I never wanted him to. I want all this and more from Hunter and Jett. I know I can trust them like I never trusted Dale.
“No. This isn’t good enough.” Jett’s voice breaks through the heat of my
pleasure, and my stomach drops into my feet. Not good enough?
Then I register the laughter in his voice. It’s a joke—but only a little, because underneath his tone is a tension I’m getting to know very intimately.
He lifts me in his hands, Hunter offering support under my legs, his fingers dangerously close to my pussy, and then Jett has scooped me into his arms. It takes him only a few steps to reach his bedroom, Hunter following closely behind. Jett pauses at the side of his bed to crush his lips against mine, his arms tensing around me, and then I’m spread out on his comforter. It’s clean and soft and smells like him.
Jett moves to my head and covers my mouth with his while Hunter moves to the opposite side, spreading my legs wide with his hands, and then he gives my slit a hard lick and I’m gone, I’m drowning in pleasure.
That’s when Jett demands his own.
When he straightens up, I open my eyes to see his boxers falling, revealing a cock so long and thick that it’s at least a match for Hunter’s, if not bigger. A little shudder of nervousness shakes me. I know I just did this, but the sight of him is overwhelming.
I moan into another lick from Hunter as Jett reaches down and strokes my hair, putting the escaped tendrils from my bun back in place. “You can take this, gorgeous girl. Take it for me.”
His words are a lightning bolt to my core, and I open my mouth wide as Hunter circles my clit with his tongue, hands pressing outward against my shaking thighs. Why my legs are trying to close themselves, I don’t know, but the pressure of his touch holding me in place, spreading me open for him, is so sinfully delicious that I wonder if I’m struggling on purpose.
I suck in the first few inches of Jett’s cock, my head tilted back over the edge of the bed, and swirl my tongue around his shaft. It’s huge. It’s on the verge of being too big, but when the soft suction I’m applying makes him groan, I give myself over to it, my own moans becoming a hum around him that has his hips jerking forward, thrusting more of his length deeper into my mouth.