Double Dare

by Jeanne St. James

  Her pulse slowed a fraction, and her breathing calmed a bit.

  What was their intention? Was this a game?

  Shit. It was a game; they were role-playing.

  At least she hoped so.

  Because if they weren't, she was going back to idea number one: she was fucked.

  Ty held open the front door for Logan, who had Quinn thrown over his shoulder as he struggled up the front steps, clearly trying not to lose his balance. Ty shook his head. He was stronger; he should have been the one to carry her into the house.

  He was glad to remove the hot ski masks he and Logan had worn for the mock kidnapping.

  He was the one who had thought of this. He hoped he didn't regret it.

  He hoped she didn't get too mad.

  At first he thought the idea would be fun, until he saw how scared Quinn was when they hijacked her car. And those nasty heels she had on. Jesus, she could have maimed them.

  Logan moved past him, and Ty locked the door behind them. That was the last thing they needed: to have someone show up and just walk in unannounced. The cops would be up to their ears thinking they were kidnapping Quinn against her will.

  Ty caught up to Logan and took Quinn from him. Logan was already showing fatigue, and Ty didn't want to risk them falling when they headed down the basement steps.

  He was glad Quinn had stopped struggling, and hoped she realized this was all in fun. He slung her over his shoulder. She smelled so good. One of his arms gripped her thighs, holding her in place, leaving his other hand to support her ass. And her ass was so soft…

  He brought his attention back to the basement steps. Another thing he needed to avoid was missing a step and having the two of them tumble down them. Logan had gone on ahead and was setting up the contraption Ty had built just in preparation for this.

  Logan waited for him with an anxious, if not horny, look in his eyes.

  Ty had to chuckle. Logan had gone along with his idea with great anticipation.

  He felt Quinn relax even further when he laughed. He was now sure she knew it was them and not some crazy fiends.

  He stepped up to the homemade St. Andrew's cross. He had worked all week on it. Logan had wanted to try it out and use it in their play during the week, but Ty had refused. He wanted Quinn on it first.

  He had attached the X-shaped wooden frame onto the basement wall, making sure it was secure, making sure no one would get hurt. He had made it secure enough that it would be a permanent fixture in the basement and could be used for future play. Whether Quinn was a part of that or not.

  Instead of shackles and cuffs, he had set it up with soft rope loops that would be used to restrain the wrists and ankles and even her waist, if needed. The soft rope he'd purchased was made of silk, soft enough not to cause chafing of her delicate skin. He didn't want to cause any pain or discomfort—just wanting and desire.

  He leaned Quinn against the St. Andrew's cross, and she collapsed against it, her knees flexing slightly. Logan dropped to her ankles, released the temporary restraints, and placed her feet into the looped ropes, while Ty unbound her wrists from behind her back and placed them into the loops at the top of the cross.

  Within minutes she was spread-eagle on the upright restraint system. Her wrists and ankles were bound and spread wide, giving them complete access to her. Now they just needed to get rid of her clothes. The high heels—something she would wear to her job—slipped easily off her feet. Logan took his time removing them, caressing her arches, slipping fingers between her toes until she curled them.

  Logan slid his palms up her calves, taking his time, while Ty grabbed a sharp knife. He had no other way to undress her while she was restrained. He would have to cut off her clothes. As he slowly cut them off—first her skirt, then her blouse, leaving her in only panties and a bra—he promised himself he would replace them.

  Her lingerie set looked fancy and expensive—well thought out. He hesitated before cutting them off.

  Quinn was still blindfolded and gagged. He leaned in close to her ear as Logan stood and snagged the knife from his hand.

  “We're going to replace everything we ruin.”

  With that, Logan slipped the knife between her breasts, freeing them as he cut through the elastic holding the cups together. He cut both of the shoulder straps and tossed the now-useless bra across the room. Ty watched goose bumps break out over Quinn's skin as Logan returned to his knees and caressed the tight skin of her stomach and hips before slicing the black lacy fabric of her panties also.

  Quinn's nipples were tight and tempting. Ty ran his tongue over one and then the other. Her back arched, and a moan escaped from around the cloth gag. She tasted sweet and wicked, and he loved her flavor. He was amazed at the contrast between the paleness of her skin and the dark pink color of her nipples. It reminded him of strawberry frosting.

  Logan took his time after cutting off her panties; still crouched between Quinn's legs, he kissed along her thighs. He plunged his fingers into her pussy, and Quinn's hips began to rotate in the same rhythm as Logan's wrist.

  Quinn gasped into the gag as fingers buried deep into her. She was wet and enjoying every second of the boys' attention. Now she knew this was definitely kinky play.

  She had never been one for being tied up. She had never wanted it for herself and never wanted to do it to anyone else.

  There was something to be said about being blindfolded, gagged, and restrained to some contraption. She had no idea what it was. She still couldn't see.

  Hell, there could be an audience watching what the boys were doing to her and she wouldn't know. That thought alone sent hot lightning through her core.

  But her hearing was a bit sharper, and she couldn't hear anything but Ty's and Logan's breathing. And a few murmurs against her skin.

  Logan—it had to be Logan—spread her pussy lips with his fingers, separating her, exposing her to his mouth as he pressed it against her clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue.

  Quinn whimpered helplessly. She couldn't reach for his long hair, couldn't hold him where she wanted him. She was completely under their control. Again.

  This was a hell of a start to the weekend.

  They continued to surprise her and open her eyes to the unexpected.

  Ty's hands kneaded her breasts, squeezing and pinching one nipple, while he sucked the other into his mouth. Her nipples were aching, hard peaks. She wanted him to pinch her harder, twist them harder, but she couldn't tell him that. She just had to wait for him to decide to do it on his own.

  The frustration was like an aphrodisiac. It made her squirm.

  She tried pulling against the soft restraints, yanking her limbs with a jerk.

  “Shh. Don't hurt yourself.” Ty's voice, so close to her ear, made her shiver.

  She felt a warm, wet tongue against her lobe, down her neck. Then it stroked along her bottom lip. He kissed her against the gag, his tongue rubbing against the wet fabric.

  Quinn's breath caught. She wanted to touch him with her tongue, touch him with her hands. She pulled against the ropes harder.

  She didn't necessarily want to be released—at least from the restraints. She wanted release in a different way.

  Logan's mouth still worked her clit, his teeth nipping against the sensitive nub, and his fingers played along her labia. He inserted one finger in her. One finger was only a tease! And then he…hummed. Oh God, he was humming against her clit. The vibrations drove her crazy, and she screamed into the cloth, which muffled it to a dull whimper.

  She mentally cursed. They wanted to drive her batty. It had to be the plan. Ty bit down on her nipple as Logan continued his humming.

  Fuck!

  She came, her body convulsing against Logan's measly sole finger as he teased it in and out of her.

  Before her last whimper, before her last wave of the orgasm, they were both gone. She felt suddenly alone; nothing but silence and emptiness remained. She sagged against the ropes.

 
Where did they go?

  What were they doing?

  She finally heard a scuffling sound and felt someone's body heat near her.

  Then she felt it.

  Silky heat. Hot oil dripping over her chest, running down her body, over her nipples, down her belly, pooling around her feet.

  It was hot, but not burning hot. Warm enough to feel good, like sensual fingers running over her body.

  More dripped over her. A sea of heat. Over her shoulders, down her arms, trickling onto her breasts, her nipples. Quinn sucked in her stomach as the rivulets of warm liquid snaked down her skin.

  A finger, she didn't care whose, drew lines against her skin, through the slippery warmth. Fingers circled around the edge of her areolae, along her ribs, dipped into her navel, smoothed the oil over her thighs. Hands cupped her calves, tickled the backs of her knees, wrapped around her ankles.

  More and more hands. Too many. It felt like more than four. Dripping more oil, massaging it into her skin, working her muscles. Pinching, pulling, pushing. Plucking. Teasing the hard nubs of her nipples, the hard nub of her clit. She wanted to grip her thighs together to capture those sinful fingers, but she couldn't move. She wanted to beg for more of those wickedly wild touches, but she couldn't speak. She wanted to watch what they were doing and who was doing it, but she couldn't see.

  And that made it all the more sinful, wicked, and wild.

  They found sensually sensitive parts of her, hidden secret spots they manipulated just right. Quinn worked the fabric between her teeth, biting down in pleasure and in painful need. She wanted release. Just one more…

  Fingers continued their paths along the lines of her body, and suddenly she was blinded…

  Not by the blindfold…but by the light hitting her eyes. An amber light. Someone had removed the blindfold. She blinked, trying to focus.

  They were there. Her two men. Her lovers. Divested of their clothes, gloriously naked, both slick and shiny with oil. Their muscles gleamed and reflected the light as they moved away from her and went to each other.

  She watched helplessly, still unable to move, still unable to ask—beg—for her freedom. Freedom to go to them instead of just watching them.

  Like a voyeur.

  Her pussy clenched with want and need as she watched them slide oiled palms, glistening fingers over each other, ignoring her. Making her suffer alone.

  They embraced and kissed, making sure she had the perfect view. Quinn could see their tongues tangling; she could imagine the taste of them against her own tongue. She wanted to be free, to be a part of it. Their hands found each other, each caressing the other's cock. Both hard and thick, their veins prominent underneath the thin, sensitive skin covering their steely lengths.

  Large hands stroked as they continued to kiss. From tip to root, fisting, palming each other's cocks. Quinn clenched her fingers into fists and screamed with frustration into the cloth gag. They ignored her muffled protests, and she wanted to ignore them…but she couldn't. She couldn't look away.

  She didn't want to.

  Logan broke the kiss and nuzzled Ty's neck. Quinn could feel the grazing of his teeth against Ty's skin as if it were her own skin. A shiver shot down her spine as Logan swept his lips over the gleaming, hard pecs of Ty's chest, down his rippled abs, over one hip, and then the other, until he was on his knees before his dark lover.

  He took Ty into his mouth, his lips stretching around the girth of Ty's cock. Quinn closed her eyes. Her pussy was throbbing—actually throbbing—and she couldn't even relieve herself!

  Ty's low groan and hiss of breath made her look at him. His fingers were wrapped around Logan's head, guiding him along his shaft. His head was slightly back, his eyes unfocused. His hips pushed forward with every stroke of Logan's mouth. Ty's cock glistened like the rest of his body. Quinn could taste the saltiness of his precum on her tongue. She could feel the pressure of her weight on her knees. She could feel her fingers digging into his rock-hard buttocks.

  She screamed in frustration again and yanked on the ropes, hard enough this time she heard the wood of the contraption she was attached to creak.

  So did they.

  They both shot her a worried look, but after a moment they ignored her once again. As Logan rose to his feet, Ty leaned forward and snagged Logan's pierced nipple in his mouth. He sucked and flicked the gold ring with his tongue, unmistakably pulling it hard with his teeth.

  “Fuck!” Logan cried out. “Hands on your knees,” he ordered.

  Ty immediately did was he was told, planting his hands on his knees, giving Logan full access to what he demanded. Logan spit on his palm before stroking his damp hand along his own cock.

  Suddenly Logan pinned Quinn with a stare. Their eyes met and held. He stroked his cock again, this time slower, squeezing the bulbous head when he came to it.

  “Watch,” he commanded her.

  With one hand on Ty's back and one on his hip, Logan plunged deep, thrusting quickly. Ty moaned and wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking it with the same rhythm as Logan fucked him.

  Quinn watched the muscles in Logan's ass flex with every push and pull. She watched Ty's ass flex as he received everything Logan gave him.

  Ty grimaced; his body was practically bent in half, one hand still on his knees, keeping his balance while the other stroked himself so fast, it was nothing but a blur to Quinn.

  She felt a tickle of dampness run down her thighs. She ached. She watched Logan's hard cock thrusting in and out of Ty's ass, as Logan gripped his cheeks hard, making indents with his fingers, holding Ty's hips still as he pumped even faster.

  He was going to come soon. He was on the edge. Quinn just knew it. She could see his body tense, his lips part, his eyelids lower.

  Logan planted himself deep within Ty one last time and made small, deep jerks against him as he cried out.

  Quinn could feel the warm liquid spilling into Ty's canal. Logan, once again, claiming Ty as his own. Logan curled himself over Ty's back and reached around to lay a hand over Ty's as the larger man continued to thrust into his own fist.

  Logan sank his teeth into Ty's back, and Ty groaned as he came in streaming spurts.

  Both men were taking quick, heaving breaths, and Quinn could imagine their hearts were still pounding.

  Hers was.

  Quinn's body hummed. She wanted someone, anyone. And she wanted him, them, now.

  Both of her boys had just spent themselves on each other. Here she was: still hanging on the wooden X, all oiled up, and gagged.

  It just wasn't fair.

  She couldn't wait to get even.

  Chapter Twelve

  They showered her, fed her, and made her come at least twice more Friday night. It definitely made up for the earlier frustration Quinn had gone through. She made it quite clear to them that she didn't mind them tying her up, though they'd better make sure she was good and satisfied before they went off and took care of each other.

  But role-playing kidnappers was now out of the question. It had scared the shit out of her, until she recognized it for what it really was. Other role-playing, depending on what it was, might be acceptable. They would take it on a case-by-case basis.

  But she felt good, really good, as they settled for bed that night. Deep in her heart she felt at home sandwiched between the two of them in the large bed. She fell asleep with a long, satisfied sigh.

  It felt like minutes, but it must have been hours—definitely hours, since the morning light crept through the curtains—when Quinn awoke with a start. Her body jerked, and her heel made contact with Logan's shin.

  “Shit!” he yelped, pinning her legs between his. Grabbing her hips, he snuggled his groin into her rump, his morning hard-on wedged between her ass cheeks. She giggled and, not wanting to leave Ty out, pulled the other man into her arms, feeling his very ready cock brushing against her belly.

  She turned a bit to give him better access and…

  Screamed.

  Paig
e Reed stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the three of them. Quinn's heart kicked into overdrive, thumping rapidly. She tugged the sheet higher up to her neck and stared at the petite brunette, who was standing with hands on her hips and a huge grin.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  Logan rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head, giving his sister a welcoming smile. Quinn noticed how he bent his knees to make sure there wasn't any obvious tenting of the sheet.

  Ty apparently didn't care who knew what was lurking under the covers. And Paige's appearance sure hadn't dampened his desire. Sheesh.

  Paige had noticed too, causing her smile to widen.

  “Morning, boys. Just wanted to drop in and see how things were going.”

  She couldn't call first?

  “From my perspective, it looks like things are going pretty well.” Paige pinned Quinn with a stare. “How are you, Quinn?”

  For a moment, Quinn had hoped she had turned into a superhero and had become invisible. Apparently not. “Oh… Uh, fine.” Until you showed up.

  “Yes…I see.” And then she had the nerve to wink at Ty. “Well.” She sank down onto the foot of the bed, folding her hands into her lap. “I actually came to make you guys some breakfast.”

  She had settled on the bed like it was a normal occurrence to see her brother in bed with not only another man but a woman too.

  “If you are up for eating?” she asked carefully.

  Ty chuckled and gave her one of his blinding smiles. “We never pass up one of your meals, Paige.”

  Paige snagged his foot, which was buried under the covers, and wiggled it playfully. “I know.”

  Stop touching my… Quinn gasped. Man. Crap.

  All eyes turned to her, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Her man. She was already getting possessive of Ty and Logan. That was not a good sign.

  “I'm sorry.” She looked pointedly at Quinn. “I didn't mean to intrude.”

  Ty reached out to Paige, his voice low and raspy. “You could join us.” And he had the nerve to waggle his brows up and down.

  Quinn wanted to smack him.