Owner of a Lonely Heart (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

  “Don’t choose.”

  There was a brief silence. “What?”

  “Don’t choose, then.” Taos approached Bettina again with a fresh attitude. “If it worries you so much to choose, then don’t. Have both of us.”

  Bettina frowned something fierce. “I don’t get it. Date both of you? Like, take turns on alternate nights? I don’t think I’d like that. The two of you are savagely competitive. You’d rip each other’s heads off.”

  Taos chuckled. “Oh, you’d like that, us fighting over you.”

  Bettina wriggled her eyebrows. “Yeah, sort of. The idea has its appeal. But what do you really mean? I don’t think you mean that.”

  Taos took her by the shoulders and shook his head. “No. I don’t mean that. I mean why don’t all three of us do it at the same time, in the same room? That way there’s no competition and you’re free to love both of us at the same time.”

  Taos expected her reaction. Her eyes went round and her jaw dropped. He could see he was blowing away any of her preconceived ideas of romance. He liked that.

  “Now hear me out. This could be to your advantage, little one. Think about it. Two men worshiping at your shrine. Two men getting up on you simultaneously. Two men taking you to dinner—at the same time.”

  Bettina finally found her voice. “But how…how did you even come up with this idea?”

  Taos took a step away from her when he had to admit, “We did it all the time in the Rabid Raiders. Share women, I mean. It was just sort of a club ethos that we share everything, and women were a natural extension of that. Sure, there were fights sometimes, but way less than you’d think. Brought us closer together as brothers, too.”

  “Of course.” It was all dawning on Bettina now. “I see. I knew biker gangs did that. I never made the connection.”

  “Riding clubs, little one. Riding clubs.” He took her chin in his fingers again. “And yes. I get along with the sheriff. We’re competitive, but we can work it out.”

  Just as he was making progress, Bettina must have heard the tiniest sound outside. Abruptly she sidestepped Taos as she simultaneously drew her Glock. Instinctively, Taos stepped to cover her, splaying his body in front of hers as a shield. It didn’t hit him that she was the armed one, and he should probably stay out of her way.

  Bettina knocked him aside with her hip and took several strides toward the trailer door. “Who’s there!” she yelled, the barrel of the Glock aimed at the door at head level.

  “Bettina! It’s me, Crispin. Don’t shoot.”

  “Oh, God.” Rolling her eyes, Bettina holstered her piece, but Taos beat her to the door.

  He flung it wide open and made a grand entrance gesture to his opponent. Naturally, Crispin’s brow was furrowed with confusion as he strode in. He was a dashingly handsome bastard. Taos had to hand that to him. And that British accent just killed it with the ladies.

  What was I thinking? Taos browbeat himself for only a brief second before it all made sense to him. Crispin and Taos were brothers of a different sort. They were brothers in arms against the society of Sirius and his thugs, both on the same side of justice. They were both upholding the law, and both had the hots for the sultry, curvaceous Bettina. Taos had no problem with sharing, if he could just shove down his envy and natural competitive spirit.

  Crispin was holstering his Glock, too. Apparently he’d drawn it when Bettina had first yelled at him. Good reflexes.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  Crispin was speaking to Bettina, but Taos inserted himself between them. From now on, it would be the three of them, and if Crispin didn’t want to roll with that, the sooner Crispin left the better.

  Crispin continued, “I knew I’d find this bloke shirtless, too.” Crispin held his hands up, surrendering, as he closed his eyes with patience. “I was hasty the other night, Bettina. I shouldn’t shut you out because you can’t make up your mind. I’d lust after this hotshot asshole, too, if I was a woman.” Taos had to laugh at that, and the scene became more relaxed. “I just want to let you know that I’m fine with it if you want to see this asshole, too. All’s fair in love and war, no?”

  The coquettish look was returning to Bettina’s face. She must know that when she slid her fingers into her back jeans pockets, her large breasts were thrust forward. “We were just talking about that, Crispin. In fact, Taos came up with a pretty darned good idea.”

  Crispin appeared interested. “Oh, yes? I’m all ears.”

  Taos was feeling confident and full of himself, so he answered for Bettina. “We share her. All’s fair in love and war, I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Oh. You mean we take turns dating her? Yes, I guess I could agree to that. May the best man win and all that.”

  Taos saw that he had to be blunter. “No. We mean simultaneously. At the same time. It prevents all sorts of problems. It’s a win-win.”

  “Especially for me,” said Bettina.

  She was so chipper and lovely, and Taos was so impatient that he just grabbed her to demonstrate to the slower Crispin what he meant. She giggled with the thrill of being grabbed so suddenly and boldly like that, and Taos dipped her into a giant, lusty kiss.

  He could practically hear Crispin tapping his boot impatiently while he and Bettina sucked on each other’s tongues. It was fine. Some guys new to the whole triad idea took a while to open their minds. In fact, Taos was surprised Bettina took so readily to it. She seemed custom-made for the whole idea as she melted in his arms, eagerly stroking his tongue with hers, panting hot streams of air through her nostrils against the side of his face.

  But at least Crispin wasn’t walloping him or arresting him or both.

  When Taos came up for air and set Bettina upright on her feet, his main concern was for Crispin’s reaction to the kiss. Bettina panted and fanned her face, but she looked to Crispin, too.

  “So?” she breathed. “Is that all right, Crispin? Please say something. I really think it’s a new, sexy, exciting idea and—”

  All in a rush, Crispin was plastering Bettina to the wall with his lean, muscled body. “Oh!” she cried softly, and she was wrapped in a different sort of kiss.

  Crispin obviously had lust saved up—lust to spare. It was intriguing and arousing to lean back against the wall next to the horny couple and just observe. It seemed that Bettina reacted differently to the cultured, cultivated sheriff than she did to him. That was normal. Taos got that all the time. Not that he usually paired up with cultured guys, but women usually reacted in a more animal way to him. He guessed he was an animal.

  Bettina had thrown her arms around Crispin’s neck and now she was smacking on him for dear life. He was instantly dry humping her against the wall and tearing off his own shirt without missing a beat in his long, drawn-out embrace. Bettina helped him toss the shirt to the floor, practically ripping it off his cut, buff torso. Free now, Crispin bent at the knees and wrapped his arms around her hips. He lifted her so far up the wall her boots left the floor, and he never broke the smooch.

  It was as dashing as an action-adventure flick where the hero can’t stand it anymore and throws other men aside in his race to find the heroine, hacking and chopping at anyone in his way. In his wifebeater T-shirt with his biceps bulging and his hips gluing the woman to the wall, Crispin was the perfect Marlon Brando, and Bettina the perfect wench.

  In fact, too perfect. His competitive nature got the better of him and Taos grabbed Crispin by the bicep. Crispin backed off reluctantly, still holding the federal marshal to the wall. He flashed fiery eyes at Taos.

  Taos said calmly, “We’re going to teach Bettina her place, right, bro? She’s not in control here. We are.”

  Taos liked how the devilish idea dawned on Crispin. Recognition spread over his aristocratic features, and he seemed to like what Taos proposed. Slowly, Bettina drifted down the wall until her boots touched the ground again, clearly drunk with lust.

  “Tell me,” said Crispin.

  “Why d
on’t I just show you? Bettina. Get down on your knees.”

  Bettina grinned a crooked smile.

  Chapter Nine

  Bettina got down on her knees with no hesitation.

  She’d been dying to, really, ever since Taos had first taken off his shirt. But she had to rein in her libido. She couldn’t let her rampant hormones dictate her actions.

  She had to be reasonable, and so she had told Taos that she couldn’t decide between him and Crispin. That had turned out, just by sheer luck, to be one of the best decisions of her life.

  She was thrilled to the core to be acting out a bawdy scene with not one but two men. Two men she had exciting, deep affection for. Their approval meant the world to her. She wanted to perform up to their usual standards—whatever those might be for Crispin.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed as Taos’s hand went to his belt buckle. But what is Crispin going to do while I do this? Not surprisingly, the cock that leaped out at her was long, thick, veined. It had been awhile and Bettina’s throat muscles weren’t as toned as they could be, but she sank the cock down her throat and sucked away.

  Oh, yes. Oh, yes. She’d forgotten how gratifying it could be, knowing that every time she sucked, every time she gulped, she was providing sensual thrills to Taos.

  Her subservient position aroused her, too. She was literally on one hand and knees with her butt in the air suctioning that big prick down her throat. Taos encouraged her. His moans resonated through his pelvis and down his penis, vibrating her lips. He didn’t seem to care who heard, either. That was fine. Taos Hopewell, casino owner, could have his cock sucked until the cows came home. There was nothing wrong with that.

  “That’s good, little one. You’re a good cocksucker. You love sucking my big dick, don’t you?”

  Bettina could hardly stop and converse, but her “mmm hmms” caused Taos to groan even louder. This encouraged her to greater heights, and she broke away to lave his balls with her saliva, the better to fondle and massage them with her free hand.

  Just the temporary pause made Taos shout. He had a handful of her hair and was using it like a rein. “Back to work, little one! I want you to work that cock like a piece of candy. Suck it down! Take me deeper. Deeper!”

  Taos’s raunchy talk spurred her onward, and now she hoovered his meat while rolling his balls in her palm. She tensed a bit, though, when Taos called out,

  “Spank her, Crispin. Slap that fine, jiggly ass.”

  Although Bettina had longed to be dominated in the bedroom, suddenly she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for it. She knew she would be berated if she paused in her cocksucking, but suddenly Crispin was behind her, undoing her gun belt with his deft, talented fingers.

  “She needs a spanking,” Taos growled in a new, low voice. “Don’t you agree, brother?”

  “I could not agree more,” said Crispin as he viciously yanked her jeans and panties down to her knees.

  Before she knew it, Crispin was smacking her like there was no tomorrow. The spanks cracked out sharply in the tinny trailer atmosphere, like rifle reports from across a field. Every time his palm slapped her, she gasped in air through her nostrils. At first the slaps felt punitive, and her eyes teared up wondering what she’d done wrong. Were the men always going to be this mean to her? She didn’t think she could take that.

  But in between slaps, Crispin’s fingers strayed. He was caressing her between slaps, alternating between punishment and arousal. When his exquisite fingertips happened to brush her outer pussy lip, she was surprised to realize how wet she was. Was it from her cocksucking, or the slaps?

  “You’re doing a good job,” Taos grunted. “Take off her shirt, Crispin. I want to see her boobs hanging low in that mirror. She’s got big, juicy titties. I want to see them sway as she sucks me.”

  For a man allegedly inexperienced in the ways of love, Crispin sure made short work of her shirt and bra. She was not normally proud of her body. Even with only one other man, she almost always turned off the lights. She could be thinner, she knew, if she didn’t have a cop’s diet of potato chips, fast food, and basic crap. She always aced the physical endurance part of the Marshals Service tests because she was agile and quick on her feet. But Bettina knew she was what they called “curvy.”

  She knew that when Crispin smacked her rump it was creating a ripple throughout her entire haunch. And apparently Taos was ardently watching her in a mirror she thought had been propped against the wall for body building purposes. Shame washed over her that she hadn’t tried harder to diet. She could have brought celery sticks with her to work, like that little old lady Park did.

  “Oh yeah,” roared Taos. “Slap those titties, Crispin. Slap her titties and her ass like she’s a horse. Yeah. My little pony, yeah!”

  Apparently Crispin could walk and chew gum, as he slapped and caressed her ass while smacking her boobs with the back of his hand. As Bettina let go of the shame and allowed the brisk paddling to overwhelm her, it stopped hurting and started…well, pleasurably stinging.

  I like this. I really do.

  Crispin’s punishment created a warming sensation that spread over her skin. Her pussy tingled with the alternation of slaps and caresses. When Crispin began spanking her swaying tits in between pinches to her nipples, her inner pussy actually fluttered. She knew she was craving to be filled.

  “Oh yeah!” Taos encouraged. “Slap those boobies. Teach her to respect you. Is she getting hot?”

  “I’d say.” Crispin’s voice was filled with a deep, resonant sexuality that increased Bettina’s desire. “Her pussy’s dripping with juice.”

  “Smack it!” ordered Taos. “I want to hear you smack her cunt.”

  Smack! It did make a wet sound when Crispin struck her pussy, and now she could barely tolerate the taunting. Smack! The titillation spread through her inner pussy, her womb.

  “Ride her, Crispin,” Taos now growled. “I want to see you mount her like a mare.”

  Bettina finally had to detach from the cock that filled her throat. “I’m no damned Flicka! And no one rides me unless they’re wearing a damned raincoat.”

  “Suck me, woman!”

  Evidently Crispin wasn’t prepared to ride her, but he had other inventive ideas in mind. One by one he jerked off her cowboy boots, stripping her jeans from her lower legs so eagerly she nearly fell flat on her face.

  “I know how to please her, Taos,” said Crispin smoothly, confidently.

  Bettina was proud she didn’t fall off Taos’s cock, and the next thing she knew Crispin was flat on the floor beneath her, his hands urging her to sit on his face.

  Dear Lord. Here I am, daisy chaining it with two gorgeous, hot men. Can it possibly get any better than this?

  Oh, twatwaffle. It just did. Got a lot better.

  Crispin took a big fat lick out of her clitoris and sent the most powerful shudder known to man throughout her entire body.

  She gasped and moaned and nearly choked on the big dick in her mouth.

  And that was just one lick.

  She cried out when Crispin set to it in earnest, twiddling her nipple while lapping away at her swollen clit. Her cry must have vibrated Taos’s cock and sent him over the final cliff, for he spilled such a forceful load down her throat she really did choke, and was only able to swallow half of it.

  She held the dripping prick while gulping, but the sensations Crispin was eliciting in her were flooding her brain with bliss. His mouth must have set off a sudden rush of dopamine that drenched all other thoughts. One by one, her senses shut down until the entire world consisted of her, Crispin’s hot talented mouth, and the big drooling dick she clasped in her fist.

  She knew that somewhere on the fringes of her awareness Taos was uttering guttural grunts of satisfaction. His thighs shuddered from the effort he’d expended, and he twitched and jumped when she licked his slit.

  But for Bettina and her feminine mystique, Crispin’s wildly flickering tongue was the center of attention, and she came a
lmost at once.

  Every muscle in her abdomen, thighs, and pelvis clenched all at once. She hovered on that precipice for what seemed like forever before plunging over the edge. Holding her breath, she squeezed her eyes shut until she saw stars, and dove into the velvety blackness of orgasm.

  The ecstasy was overwhelming. Wave after wave of bliss rolled through her inner channel, clutched at her uterus, grabbed at every muscle in her body. The logical part of her mind knew she was drenching poor Crispin in juices—she felt herself squirt, but the dogged, determined man kept lapping away.

  All she could think was What. The. Fuck. It was the never-ending orgasm sent straight from heaven. His ex-wife thought he was a shitpickle in bed? Her loss.

  She was finally forced to take a breath. The sudden lungful of air nearly wrenched tears from her, and she now held on to Taos’s hands for support.

  “That’s right.” Taos’s voice was gentle now, calming. “Let him take you, little one. Let the big, bad sheriff get you off. That’s it. You’re feeling it now. Let his big, fat tongue bring you off better than you’ve ever gotten off before.”

  It took a while before Bettina noticed that Taos had backed away from her. He, too, must’ve been weak in the knees, for he leaned against the room divider with arms crossed before his naked stomach, as though watching a movie. He looked delectable as ever all ironed out like that, his face smooth with satisfaction. Knowing she’d given him that satisfaction pleased Bettina, pumped her ego. An unfamiliar swell of emotion came over her when she locked eyes with Taos. It felt…affectionate, as if she were really falling for him.

  Crispin’s lapping slowed now. Bettina gasped and twitched like a beached fish. Coming to her senses, she clambered off his face and sat on one naked buttock on the linoleum, panting.