by Mimi Riser
"Fuck,” Rico cursed.
"Is that a request?” she asked him.
"I'll take it as one.” Nate's heart began battering his ribs. Desire coiled inside him like a spring about to pop.
"You'll take anything you can get your hands on.” Rico's eyes blazed black fire. He struggled to sit up, determined to be difficult, stubborn as a mule. Some things never changed. “I've known tomcats more constant than you."
"Ah, so it's not just loving a man that bothers you, but loving me in particular? Then know this.” Nate pushed him flat again and held him down, hand to chest. A furious thumping pounded his palm. Rico's heart hammered as hard as Nate's own. Rico's gaze bore into him like a drill. Tension crackled the air between them. Much would be decided in these next moments. Nate prayed for the right words to fall out of his mouth—just one more miracle, please—but he'd ne'er been good at pretty speeches, so the unvarnished truth would have to serve.
"I was ‘constant’ enough to wait over twenty decades for you—long, cold, lonely years. Aye, I guarded the jewels hidden in the chamber I haunted, but I treasured the memory of two precious spirits more. Something told me you'd both return one day. I knew I had to stay until you did."
"And then?” Rico demanded. “What about this morning at the inn? We woke up not knowing what to think, figuring last night was the product of too much champagne. Because you left while we slept, didn't you? Just walked out without a word. Why?"
A fair question. Unfortunately. Nate wished he had a reasonable reply. Guilt gripped him along with his desire, mixed pain with the passion.
"I'd no idea what to say,” was all he could answer. “It's damned strange to suddenly find yourself solid again. I was confused. Afraid. I knew I still loved you, but not if you'd love me once you regained your senses. I wasn't sure I had the right to intrude on your new lives."
Hell, he'd hesitated to intrude on their old. Bold as brass, Nate had barged into battle, but always tread too warily in matters of the heart. It seemed safer to leave people before they left him. His mistake then and now.
I was a bastard, actually.
Or an emotional coward, which was worse.
Nate heaved a deep sigh, refilled his lungs, and did something he'd rarely done before—if, indeed, he'd ever done it.
He apologized.
Well, hell's bells, if Seth Barrow could become an angel, the least Nathaniel Hawkins could do was try to be an honorable man from this time forth.
"I'm sorry, me darlings.” The words came out hoarse with emotion. Nate swallowed to clear his throat, blinked away the embarrassing sting of tears as he glanced from Rico to Annie and back. “I should have proved to you long before now how much I care. If you'll forgive me, I'll do all I can to make amends. Never again will you need doubt my love."
'Twas the best he could muster and he meant it. But was it enough? Silence hung heavy over the bed, so thick you could cut it with a cutlass, no sound but the rasp of their breathing.
Annie stared at Rico, her brows raised in question.
Rico glared back, as though saying no to whatever she asked.
In agony, Nate waited while tense seconds ticked past.
"Oh hell,” Annie finally said. “You can't fight fate."
"Meaning?” Rico's glare darkened. “Just what do you think you're going to do?"
"What Amalie should have done, what else?” Blue eyes ablaze with excitement, Annie scrambled over Rico and dove onto Nate, body-slamming him into the mattress, knocking the wind out of him, blistering his lips.
Not that he minded. He tasted warm welcome and acceptance in her kiss—sweet as paradise, hotter than Hades. His pulse rate speeded and his cock went stiff as a board.
"Ow, you nearly kneed me in the nuts.” Beside them, Rico vibrated with temper, making the big bed quiver beneath them. “Amalie was a loyal wife. She loved her husband. You'd never have caught her pulling crap like this."
"Too bad for Richard she didn't,” Annie mumbled against Nate's mouth.
"Aye, ‘twas a damned pity for me, too,” he rasped when she broke off the kiss and angled her head to meet Rico's glower with a look of sultry challenge.
"Sweetie, think about it. If I wanted to be disloyal, I'd screw him behind your back. The fact I'm going to let you watch ought to tell you something."
"That you're a sadist?” Rico gritted his teeth.
Annie's eyes narrowed to smoky slits. “Gets you hot, huh."
A statement, not a question. She knew what she did, clever lass—and so did Nate. A wicked tease she'd crafted to melt the obstinate ice of Rico's anger and pride.
She was melting Nate, that was sure, with her plump breasts mashed against his chest, her belly molded to his, and her legs spread, straddling his hips. His balls nudged the moist crevice between her thighs while his cock dug lengthwise into the soft flesh of her abdomen. Like a cat she rubbed against him, adding friction to the contact, stirring a fire in his loins that flared out through his limbs, turned the blood in his veins to molten lava. He almost erupted as she wriggled down his front, nipped the head of his cock, then licked it from stem to stern.
No wonder Rico writhed. As divine as Annie's actions felt, they must be holy hell to witness. Nate sympathized, but not enough to end the torture. Rico could end it himself if he'd stop being so stubborn. Besides, the thought of Rico's arousal increased Nate's own. He looked to the side and saw Rico sitting up, arm and chest muscles bulging with effort. Trying to break the manacles?
Good luck, lad.
Rico was powerfully built, as Richard had been, but Nate knew the latter couldn't have managed such a task and doubted the former could. His gaze slid lower to see something else bulging as well—a thick, meaty rod, rigid as a rock—which made his mouth water.
Annie's eyes slanted to the same spot. “Mmm, it seems a shame to waste that, doesn't it?"
She fluttered her lashes at Rico, all mock innocence, pure coquette. “You're welcome to join us. Lie back and relax. You might find you enjoy being handcuffed."
"Wench,” Rico snarled. “I should've whipped your tail off when I had the chance."
Annie puckered her lips and blew him a kiss. “Be a good boy, and maybe I'll give you another crack at it."
With the word, a genuine crack sounded, and Rico's arms stretched wide, displaying naught but a metal bracelet at each wrist. Damn. There must have been a few weak links in the connecting chain.
"They just don't make cuffs like they used to,” Rico said, flexing his muscles.
Obviously.
"Mr. Macho.” Annie sniffed. “He's been pumping iron for years,” she told Nate—whatever pumping iron meant. “You gonna rip a phonebook in half for your next trick?” she asked Rico.
"No, I'm going to tan your sweet ass for you,” he threatened.
"You can try.” Annie shot him a rebellious stare. Still belly down, straddling Nate's legs, she wiggled her rosy rump in the air. “Promises, promises—"
Whack!
Rico's hand came down heavy on her upturned rear.
Whack-whack-whack!
He hit her thrice more, harder.
"Ow!” She scrambled to the side, shaking the mattress, as he aimed another blow.
"Whoa—I'm not finished yet.” Rico grabbed for her, lost his balance on the rocking bed, and crashed forward.
Onto Nate.
Who wasn't finished either. Hell, he'd barely begun.
"Whoa, yourself.” Before Rico could roll free, Nate trapped him in a rib-crunching bear hug that crushed their torsos together. Immovable object met irresistible force. “I've never much approved of men striking women. Care to try your iron against someone your own size, matey?"
Rico's nostrils flared like an angry bull's. He snorted steam like a dragon. “I'll take you on any day, Captain. With pleasure."
Aye, one could only hope.
Nate grinned. “How about now?"
That fast the bed became a battleground.
With a ro
ar, Rico heaved to the side, dragging Nate with him. Nate heaved back, reversing their direction. Limbs tangled and muscles strained. Back and forth they rolled, skin to skin, sweating and grunting, making a mess of the sheets—both vying for dominance, neither proving anything except wrestling was hot work.
Bonfire hot.
Waves of heat poured off them. Steam rose from the bedding. The air seemed to cloud with smoke.
Somewhere in the middle of it, anger blazed into passion. Somehow Nate ended up on top, a pair of powerful legs wrapped around his waist and his cock blissfully buried in Rico's tight ass. Good God, how did that happen? Quick and slick. All reflex and no thought. Their sweat must have greased his way in.
"Fuck,” Rico groaned.
Nate could hardly speak for panting. “I think we already are, lad."
But without Rico's consent. Which meant retreat was the only option—and a dammed difficult one, too. ‘Twas bloody excruciating to trim your sails when every fiber of your being shouted “full speed ahead!” But it had to be done.
Sex was, perhaps, the only thing Nate had never plundered. He'd resisted the drunken urge to force himself on Seth this afternoon, right? And he hadn't even liked Seth at the time. He'd castrate himself with a dull blade before ravaging someone he truly loved. Wincing with pain, emotional and physical, he flattened his palms on the mattress, pushed up slightly, and started to withdraw.
The legs at his waist tightened. Hands gripped his shoulders and yanked him back in place. A guttural growl rumbled out.
"I said fuck, damn it.” With the command, Rico contracted inner muscles, holding Nate's cock in a hot satin vise. “Finish what you started—now—or I'll break your neck and turn you back into a ghost."
Hell's bells.
Nate's heart stuttered. “You're serious? You want me?"
"Was there ever any doubt?” Rico's mouth twisted into a wry sliver of a grin.
Nose to nose, locked in a carnal embrace, they searched each other's eyes. Black fire still burned in Rico's, but fueled now by desire rather than rage. Hungry need. Aye, and love, too. Nate saw it as sure as he sensed it. His own eyes blurred with a sudden salty mist.
"No,” he whispered. “I just didn't think you'd ever admit it. Richard never did. If he had, maybe I'd have been less inclined to stray."
"I know. And I have a lot of him in me, but I'm not Richard anymore. That's the point. I've finally realized I don't want to make his mistakes. If you're willing to change, I'll meet you halfway. We can try again and do things right this time."
The words spilled out in a fevered rush. With them, Rico rocked his hips, urging Nate to thrust, to begin an equally fevered motion. His hands, warm and firm, rubbed Nate's shoulders and back.
"The problem before was more cultural than anything. You were always a rebel, Nate, but Richard was a product of his time, which made him hate being bisexual. He wanted you regardless, but thought it was a sin. I don't. I never understood that side of myself, so, yes, it bothered me. But I never thought it was evil. It's a freer world today. Times are changing and I'm ready to change with them. What Richard couldn't say, I will."
Rico clamped his calves over Nate's ass, halting the action for a breathless moment. “I love you, Nathaniel Hawkins."
In imagination, a whoosh of arctic air sounded. Had hell frozen over?
In reality, an impassioned sigh heaved out.
"Wow...that was worth waiting two centuries to hear."
Annie—bless her—voicing Nate's exact thought. Perhaps because she guessed emotion constricted his throat and the power of speech had deserted him. A wondrous woman she was, so willing to share her lad with another, so crystal clear in her intentions. She wanted Rico happy, whatever it took. Was there any truer sign of love?
Mind you, she seemed just as eager to share herself.
Looking flushed and wanton, she crawled toward Nate and Rico and knelt by their heads, sitting back on her heels and spreading her thighs to give them an eyeful of ripe, juicy cunt. A nose full, too. Her lush female fragrance merged with the musky scent of masculine arousal, an intoxicating perfume that made senses reel.
"So, is this a private party?” Her gaze raked them from top to toe. “Or can anyone join in?"
Rico answered with a nonverbal, lusty growl.
"I hope that means yes,” Annie said while grazing fingers over her breasts and teasing her nipples into hard nubs. Teasing, period. The fingers roved lower, dipped into her pink slit and came out dripping.
Lord have mercy...
Desire pulled Nate in two directions. If only he could fuck her and Rico at the same time. What a pity a man had but one cock.
On the other hand, he had a mouth to go with it.
Oh, what an idea.
Awash with wicked inspiration, Nate shoved inward, wrapped Rico in a hug and rolled to reverse their positions, then pushed Rico up so the man straddled him. Quite an improvement, actually.
Rico's own weight drove the rod he sat on deeper into his ass, as deep as it would go—deep as Hades and far hotter. With another growl, he rose a few inches and dropped down hard, then repeated the action again—and again—his eyes full of hunger. He liked the control this pose gave him.
Aye, but it aided Nate's plans, too. And, as an added benefit, the upright posture displayed Rico's stiff rod to full advantage, easily accessible for separate attention.
"Mmm...” Annie moistened her lips as she stared at it. “I want."
"So do I,” Nate said, except he stared at her.
Attack loomed imminent.
As she leaned over—intent on her own mischief, unsuspecting his—Nate gripped her hips, dragged her onto his upper body, and hauled her backward.
"Ack!” Annie squawked in surprise when he seated her on his face, with her front toward Rico—then she melted in his mouth as Nate devoured her cunt, licked and sucked and savored her, nibbled and probed...
Delicious.
Shudders racked through her. “Oooooh,” she moaned.
Nate's feelings exactly. Slowly, carefully, he explored silken folds, lapped up her cream. Merciless, he impaled her on his tongue, ate her to the edge of ecstasy and held her there suspended between impending eruption and release.
While Rico, impaled on something else, got to watch—but as an avid participant now instead of angry spectator. As such, he seemed to relish the scenery as much as the ride.
Hell, the scenery was part of the ride. Nate couldn't see much from his vantage point, but he'd planted Rico and Annie face to face so they could, and for good reason. To increase their pleasure, which increased his. He felt their excitement as intensely as his own—tremors of passion—heard their gasps and groans, sensed them eyeing and fondling each other.
And through it all, with cock and tongue, Nate fucked them both. That was the best part, of course.
A woman and a man, fore and aft, soft body and hard, but both locked to his in an intricate triangular dance—all of them undulating in a synchronized rhythm of give and take. All three clutching and caressing, touching, tasting...loving...
And finally exploding in harmonized rapture.
Panting, they collapsed into a single, sated heap, tangled so close you couldn't tell whose limbs belonged to whom.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Nate doubted any of them had the energy to. He didn't. Limp as a squeezed rag, in a half daze he lay, musing on the past and pondering the future. Where, exactly, they went from here, he still wasn't sure, but it looked like they'd be going together. The only certainty was things weren't over yet.
Hell's bells, they were just beginning!
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Mimi Riser
Mimi Riser has been an actress, model, clown, belly-dancer, jewelry designer, editor and publisher, but her first and foremost love is writing. She specializes in offbeat tales where laughter reigns and good always triumphs—but she makes her characters really work for their happy endings. Her books have be
en said to read like a snowball rolling downhill, gathering size and speed as it goes. But if you think her stories are crazy, you should see her life. Once devout city people, she and her husband exchanged the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia a lifetime or two ago for the natural, rugged splendor of the rural southwest. They were looking for a simpler way of life. They got it. It ended up being so “natural and rugged,” they spent their first six and a half years there in a hand-built house with dirt floors, no electricity and no plumbing. This has proved helpful for her historicals as she can now write about the “olden days” from personal experience. They have since rejoined the 21st century and enjoy life on the open range with a house full of eccentric cats and a large, wacky dog who thinks she's a cat, too. Mimi has had five novels published to date along with numerous articles and short stories. Her historical romance, I Do, was a “Top Ten Finisher” in the mammoth Preditors & Editors Readers Poll of 2003, and her contemporary comedy, Every Jack Needs His Jil, won the poll the following year for the “Best Mainstream Novel of 2004.” Samantha White and The Seven Dwarves is her first erotic-romance and was one of the winners in Amber Quill's 2007 Heat Wave contest.
To learn more about Mimi and her writing, please visit her website:
www.mimiriser.com
Don't miss Dirty Love, by Lacey Savage,
available at AmberHeat.com!
Isabel Warren wouldn't dream of defying the morality statutes that forbid women over forty from ever making love again. As a medical practitioner, she understands the need for laws preventing “dirty love.” The S.O.S. virus of 2030 left most of the male population infertile and turned human DNA into something resembling a microscopic jigsaw puzzle. The virus itself is undoubtedly dangerous, but older women are perhaps the most significant threat humanity has ever faced.
Yet knowing what's forbidden and keeping her feminine urges under lock and key are two different things. Especially when Isy's most recent assignment requires her to run intimate tests on Connor Flynn, a man sixteen years her junior, who seems determined to prove she's not the monster everyone else thinks she is. And if such delicious temptation wasn't bad enough, she's also got Trevor Jones to worry about. It seems he, too, is willing to risk everything to be with her.