Wyatt would too.
Fiona was supposed to be working on that deadline, while Parker did edits and voice-over in the other room. Instead, she was refreshing the news on her laptop. Every five seconds, she told herself this is the last time and looked to see if there was any new information about the arrest.
Refresh.
The clock told her she’d been at it for more than an hour.
Refresh.
This couldn’t be healthy.
Refresh.
Did she care?
Refresh.
Bomber identity released.
Her stomach dropped into her shoes at the headline. It plummeted through the floor when she saw the video was Ms. Passion’s, and despite being posted less than ten minutes ago, it had over a hundred-thousand views.
Fiona braced herself and clicked Play.
The standard intro ran, fading to show Ms. Passion leaning into the camera, her trademark conspiratorial expression in place. “Okay, I know y’all are sick of me talking about this, but I promise the reward is worth it, and after today, back to the toys.”
The buildup cranked Fiona’s tension higher with each filler word, until she thought her muscles might snap.
“...inside scoop for you. I know who they arrested in conjunction with the bombing. Before you ask, no I can’t say. Protecting my sources and all.”
“Just get it over with,” Fiona shouted at her laptop.
“Red?” Parker was by her side in an instant.
“The FBI arrested Fiona Walters—”
“Fuck you.” Fiona didn’t care that she was screaming. It was better than giving in to the desire to vomit.
Parker flipped the lid shut on her laptop and grabbed her phone. “Stop watching. It’s not going to do you any good.”
It would feed her rage and burn away the nausea. That sounded pretty good. Shit. Ms. Passion basically told the entire internet what city Fiona was in.
“...no, it’s Parker...”
She was vaguely aware he was talking to someone on her phone.
“...Because there’s a better chance you’ll take her calls. I don’t care if it didn’t go through you. You know people over there. Get it pulled now.” He sounded furious.
Fiona didn’t blame him. She wanted to reach through the screen and strangle Ms. Passion. What the fuck was that woman’s problem?
The snapping she’d feared severed her brain from her emotions. It was as though the adrenaline shut off access to that part of her, and nothingness sank in.
“No, it’s not true. Why the fuck would you ask that?” Parker’s voice grew louder. He handed her the phone.
Fiona didn’t know who she was talking to. She didn’t care. “Hello?”
“Are you all right?” Chloe asked. “We’re working right now to get that video pulled. He’s right; we have contacts at YouTube.”
“Awesome.” Fiona couldn’t find the enthusiasm to mean it. A beep sounded in her ear, and she glanced at the screen. “That’s Nick. I gotta go.” She swiped over to the new call, not hearing whatever Chloe said. “Hey.” There was the numbness she wanted earlier.
“What’s going on?” Nick sounded like he was on the verge of panic. “Who do I need to eviscerate?”
Huh. She’d been right. They did raise hell on her behalf. She felt like she’d been drugged or was watching this unfold through borrowed eyes. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. “I don’t know who. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
Parker took the phone from her again. She listened to him talk at Nick, but she didn’t process the words. She couldn’t make sense of any of it. Something about a hotel. A new one. Was Nick buying a hotel? That was silly. They wrote software for a living.
But a woman she didn’t know risking her livelihood to accuse Fiona of a crime she didn’t commit was just as ridiculous.
“I’ll keep you updated,” Parker said. “I promise. Call, send a carrier pigeon—anything, if you hear anything. We’ll get back to you.” Parker tossed her phone on the table next to her computer. “We need to pack.”
“Why?” She looked up at him. The logic centers of her mind had stopped working. “She told everyone I was arrested. They’ll look for me in jail.”
Parker knelt in front of her and cradled her cheeks in his hands. The warm pressure tugged at reason. “It won’t take them long to figure out you’re not the person in jail. This is already viral. Populating in trending headlines. Everywhere. Even if an apology goes out immediately—and I have no idea what the odds are there—a lot of people won’t hear the retraction. And those who do will want to talk to you. The police aren’t saying anything. The shipping company isn’t saying anything. Answers are scarce, and you just became a person who might have them.”
“Okay.” That made sense. Why didn’t she think of any of that? Why did this random stranger fuck Fiona over so hard? That question wouldn’t stop repeating in her head.
Parker pulled her to her feet. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll pack, go to a new hotel, and lie low until this blows over.”
She nodded. It wasn’t as though they had a choice. Ms. Passion took that from them.
WYATT DIDN’T LIKE THIS feeling. This lack of control. This not knowing where to go next.
He wouldn’t fidget, though. He didn’t give into doubt. He paced in his hotel room because he was tired of being cooped up. At least he was here, and not still in a jail cell—the benefit of an expensive attorney, who pushed hard to get Wyatt released on bail.
He would put up with the low-end room and lack of amenities, if it meant a little more freedom until his arraignment.
The knock was a welcome distraction and kicked a new flavor of anticipation into his bloodstream. He probably wasn’t supposed to have these guests, but since the judge didn’t explicitly forbid it, Wyatt was taking his chances.
He let Fiona and Parker in. Before the door finished swinging shut behind them, he cupped Fiona’s cheeks between his palms and crushed his mouth to hers.
Her gasp drove him to deepen the kiss. The way she fisted his shirt in her hands mirrored the desperation clawing inside him. He wanted to spin her away, press her against the wall, and drag her jeans down her legs, so he could slide inside her.
But the even stronger compulsion was to tug his guests into the room, and... cuddle in front of the TV? Ridiculous.
Parker clearing his throat threaded reason into Wyatt’s thoughts. He broke away from Fiona, clasped Parker’s hand, and gave him a half-hug.
“Prison make you lonely and desperate?” Parker teased.
Wyatt forced a chuckle. “Something like that.” The jail-time part of his last forty-eight hours was the least of his concerns. He’d been stuck in a holding cell, where his glower earned him privacy. He knew why he was there and what was expected of him. “Charles told me what Ms. Passion did. How are you?”
They moved from the entryway into the room, but Wyatt was too wound up to sit.
Fiona’s soft touch on his hand sent desire racing across his skin. “Desperate for an outlet.” Her voice was as demure as the way she watched him through her lashes, but the words screamed in his thoughts.
That initial impulse roared back, heat searing through his veins. “What did you have in mind?”
“Use me.”
Two brief words. That was all it took to make him rock hard. He stepped back to stand next to Parker and said, “Take off your clothes.”
Fiona shifted from shy to a vixen in a blink. She glided her hands up her sides, then back down, before slowly peeling off her T-shirt. The turquoise of her bra was vibrant against her porcelain skin and drew out the spark of mischief in her eyes.
She kicked off her sandals, then turned away. Her hips swayed to a beat only she heard. She bent at the waist, to slide her jeans down her legs and step out of them, presenting her ass, round and tight. A barely-there scrap of lace covered the temptation between her legs.
Parker’s low groan m
atched Wyatt’s thoughts. Wyatt had never seen a more erotic striptease. The who might have a little to do with it. Maybe.
Fiona whirled to face them again. She slid her bra straps down freckled arms, before reaching behind her to unclasp the hooks. The lingerie fell to the floor, leaving her full breasts on display, her nipples pink and erect and begging to be pinched.
Wyatt exercised restraint. She could tease for now, because he had wicked plans for when she was finished with the show.
She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and tugged them low, exposing a patch of smooth skin. She finally nudged the clothing down enough to let it fall away, leaving her naked.
A flush traveled across her skin as he looked her over. Stunning.
And it was his turn. He pulled out the wooden chair from the desk. “Sit.”
Fiona raised her eyebrows.
He slapped her ass. The crack filled the room, adding fuel to the fire spilling inside him. “Each time I do that, it’s going to make it tougher for you to sit comfortably. And I said sit.”
“For how long?” she asked.
He spanked her again, this time on the other cheek. Two pink spots reflected back at him. “Until I say you’re done. Sit. Watch. Nothing but those two things. No talking. No moving. No touching. Anyone.”
She bit her bottom lip and complied, sinking into the chair.
Wyatt turned his back to her. When he gripped the back of Parker’s neck, Parker’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t resist the kiss.
It was supposed to be as much for show as anything, but their lips met, and the need in Wyatt cranked another notch. A few more, and the switch would snap. Wyatt thrust his tongue into Parker’s mouth. Desire was driven by both the physical contact and knowing Fiona watched, silently.
Parker pushed back, rather than away, raking his nails along Wyatt’s chest. It was the same power struggle that always existed between them, but it was more.
“Too many clothes,” Parker gasped when they broke apart. He dragged down the front of Wyatt’s shirt, undoing buttons along the way and popping at least two off.
It didn’t matter. Wyatt yanked Parker’s Tee off, needing to feel more skin.
He ground his erection into Parker’s hip, barely aware he was humping.
Parker made quick work of Wyatt’s zipper, and Wyatt returned the favor, not caring about the sound of fabric tearing.
Their clothes fell away far more quickly than Fiona’s had. Wyatt gripped Parker’s shaft and squeezed enough to draw a groan, before slowly stroking it.
Parker bit into his shoulder, then traveled his mouth along Wyatt’s chest, sucking. Probably leaving marks.
Part of Wyatt wanted to force Parker to his knees. Feel Parker’s mouth around his shaft.
Fiona whimpered, and Wyatt’s focus narrowed to a point. This was for show. He wanted something else. He took one last, hungry kiss from Parker, before turning back to Fiona.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
She did. Her chest heaved with each breath.
Wyatt approached her and glided two fingers between her legs, not making any other contact. She was slippery wet, and it was easy to dip inside her.
She clenched around him.
“You like that?” he asked.
The flush on her skin was a tantalizing shade of pink. “God, yes.”
“If you’re this turned on already, I could go back to your boyfriend. Let you watch me finish him off.”
Her pussy tightened around him again, but she didn’t speak.
“Well?” Wyatt prompted.
“I’m deciding if I should give you an answer that will earn me another spanking, or if I should go with, whatever you want, to see what you have in store.”
He did adore this woman. “What’s your conclusion?”
“Whatever you want.” She smirked.
He could slap her ass again. Instead, he plunged his fingers deeper inside her, drawing a sharp gasp. “I want to watch the two of you fuck,” he said as he moved behind her. He kissed along her shoulder and withdrew from her. “I want to see you riding Parker.” Wyatt slid a wet finger between her ass cheeks.
She groaned.
“And I’ll decide what else I want from there.” He nudged her puckered hole and slipped his finger inside. The sounds she made were like a good drug, feeding his high. With his other hand, he cupped her breast and kneaded, pinching and rolling her nipple.
She squirmed against him, short pants tearing from her throat.
He caught her earlobe between his teeth. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
The word drilled into him, almost disrupting his arousal—it carried far more weight than it should. But he refused to read more into it. “Stop me if it’s too much.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“IT WON’T BE.” EVERY inch of Fiona’s body was an erogenous zone. The sting in her ear, from Wyatt’s bite, surged with the rest of her anticipation. She swore, if she squirmed at the right angle, she’d come.
Wyatt slid his touch away, and an ache for more grew inside her.
Parker grasped her hands and pulled her to him as he backed toward the bed. The way he watched her, with desire and love, buoyed her heart. He circled her waist with his arm and drew her in, to press his body to hers. The heat of his skin seared into her bones.
“You’re incredible,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
The words rolled through her. “Not without both of you.” She didn’t mean to admit that aloud.
Parker didn’t look upset. He brushed his mouth over hers, then kissed along her jaw, following a random path to her breast. When he wrapped his mouth around one nipple and scraped his teeth over the tender skin, she arched her back.
He continued to suck and lick as he lowered himself onto the mattress, bringing her with him. She straddled his legs and leaned over, not wanting to surrender any contact.
The exchange was intimate. Erotic and safe. But knowing Wyatt watched it, standing just in view, slowly stroking himself, brought the encounter to a new level.
She reluctantly straightened, to lower herself onto Parker’s shaft. He slid inside her, stretching her out and filling the spot Wyatt teased moments earlier. Parker’s groans as she rode him ignited the air.
“Fuck, you two are sexy together.” Wyatt’s gravelly comment wove into the moment, rather than disrupting it.
Fiona liked this more than she thought possible. Being on display. Being part of... whatever this was. She was worried defining it would destroy it, but it was wicked and delicious and incredible.
Parker glided his palms up her stomach, grazing her breasts, before moving down to grip her hips. He dug his fingers into her pelvis and thrust up hard, setting a faster, more desperate pace.
Wyatt stepped behind her, his chest pressing into her back. He scraped his teeth over her shoulder and reached around her, to stroke her clit. The new contact was a jolt that traveled from her core, extending to her fingers, toes, and tongue.
His touch was light and coaxing. Combined with the way Parker slammed inside her, it pushed Fiona toward the edge of climax and sent her tumbling over in a heartbeat. Her heart was hammering fast.
She clenched around Parker as she came, not wanting to let go of the rush.
The sharpness of the orgasm dulled but didn’t subside, as both men continued their attentions. Parker tightened his grip, and she knew he was close. His face screwed up, and he spilled inside her.
It took a moment for him to slow his pace, then come to a stop. She leaned her palms on his chest, grasping for her breath.
Wyatt placed his hand loosely on her throat, startling her and kickstarting a pulse just starting to slow. His breath was hot on her cheek. “You wanted to be used?”
She didn’t know why she’d said that earlier, but the words tasted good then, and were like lightning in her veins now. “Yes.”
“I want to fuck you while your boyfriend’s cum is stil
l dripping out of your tight, perfect pussy. On your back.”
She moved to roll off Parker. Wyatt grabbed her shoulder and pushed her roughly, until she was lying down, looking up at him.
He pressed his hand to her throat again, gaze locked on hers.
She expected a little more verbal play. Another command or compliment.
He shoved her thighs apart with his knee, knelt between them, and thrust inside her with a single stroke, watching her. Where Parker studied her with affection, Wyatt’s attention was dark and intense, but the adoration was still there.
The combination was alluring. It was also terrifying, because she would willingly drown in it.
She wrapped her legs around Wyatt’s waist, wanting to be closer.
“Finger yourself.” Wyatt’s voice was a tight growl. “Make yourself come again.”
Fiona lowered her hand as commanded, but she didn’t know if she could comply with the rest of his order. The hyper-sensitive edge had dulled to a low thrum of pleasure. She hovered near climax, but it seemed out of reach.
Parker leaned in, to suck on her nipple again while he played with her other breast.
Orgasm built inside. A slow, sensual climb to the peak.
She squeezed her eyes shut when she came, and stars danced behind her eyelids. Wyatt pressed his palm into her windpipe, enough to make her air thin, but not cut it off. The lightheaded rush in her skull careened toward weightless. Ecstasy wrapped around her in a blanket, stealing thought away. She rode the high as far as she could.
In the background, she heard Wyatt’s familiar grunts and knew he was coming too.
She slipped back into the now, but not completely, as he eased off the pressure on her throat.
Slowly, other sensation crept back in. Her neck was sore. Her pussy was sore. God, it felt incredible.
Wyatt slipped out of her and crawled up next to her on the bed. She was vaguely aware of him disposing of the condom, before he spooned into her. Parker lay on her other side, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Exhaustion—some from the sex, and the rest from the release of tension—seeped into her. She wanted to curl into this moment and live here.
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