Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Willa Edwards

  Lincoln watched as she pulled the glass to her lips again, as if to down it once more. Her eyes scanned back and forth between the two men, Lincoln beside her and Gabe before her, as she sipped her drink. She sucked down a swallow of the fizzy liquid before pulling the glass away from her lips, responding to their stare.

  Lincoln smiled. He rather liked a girl with some fight, who was just as interested in pushing the limits as he was, but also knew when to stop. If she’d gulped down that whole glass again, he would have been tempted to pull the drink from her hands, make her get on her knees and show her forgiveness for disobeying. Just the thought made his cock buzz. But that would have forced them to progress far too fast, faster than Mallory could handle.

  “I think a toast is in order,” Lincoln declared, his eyes never leaving Mallory. Her gaze dropped to the floor, as if afraid he’d bestow the honor upon her.

  Gabe’s head nodded in Lincoln’s peripheral vision. He held his glass high in the air. “To an amazing New Year’s Eve.”

  “And many more to come,” Lincoln gruffed above the rim of his flute, not sure Mallory had heard him, until her eyes flashed back up to his from where she’d been studying the carpet. Her doe-eyed expression knocked the wind from his lungs like a surprise punch to the gut. God, he wished there would be many nights to come, as many nights as it took to get that unbelieving look out of her eye, and then a lifetime more.

  Lincoln sipped the frothy, sour drink and had to agree with Mallory. He definitely wasn’t interested in champagne. He looked up to find her eyes on him, almost inspecting him, as if trying to decide whether to trust them or not. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her hand, give her a gentle squeeze of reassurance, but he feared she might think the touch was too much, too demanding, too forceful. He didn’t want to push her. He needed her to make this decision on her own. They both did.

  “Yes.” She spoke in a soft sigh, her words only a hair above a whisper.

  Lincoln thought for a moment his heart might have stopped beating. His tongue froze in his mouth, hope clouding his vision until he couldn’t do anything but think of what he’d do if that yes was to the question Gabe had asked. The answer they were both so desperate for.

  Lincoln glanced past Mallory’s shoulder to watch Gabe filling his glass with more champagne, but only managing to pour more frothy head into the flute. His shoulders were stiff, and Lincoln knew he was paying more attention to Mallory than the drink in his hand, even if he didn’t want to show it.

  “Yes what, babe?” Lincoln asked, hesitant to hear her answer.

  “I’ve thought about it before.” Her eyes met Lincoln’s over her glass, swirling up to Gabe’s where he stood beside her, champagne bottle poised in his white-knuckled grip. “Being with two men. I’d be interested.” She looked down, her cheeks pink. The most adorable show of innocent embarrassment Lincoln had ever seen graced her features. A thrill shot through him that they’d be the first to show her how amazing it could be.

  Gabe dropped unceremoniously to the couch on her other side, faster than the celebratory drinks of the many revelers in the streets. Dumping the bottle to the floor beside the couch, he snuggled closer into her warm, soft body.

  Lincoln looked directly into her eyes, the deep color molten as iron before it’s poured to the form the subway rails below the New York City streets. “Are you sure?”

  Mallory nodded, inching closer to him. She slipped her hand to his thigh, tightening around the muscle, her thumb rubbing across in smooth stripes. His nerves lit ablaze at the stroke, the burn of her touch reminiscent of the friction created by rubbing two sticks together.

  Lincoln’s entire body tightened, his legs stiff, his cock hard and uncomfortable against his fly. He reached out for her instantly. Behind her shoulder, Gabe did the same, burying his face in her neck, his breath whispering across her nape. They’d waited so long for this, and now they finally had the woman of both their dreams.

  * * * *

  Mallory couldn’t believe she’d said yes to their proposal. Out in the near midnight air, it had seemed ridiculous. But in the warmth of their arms, the idea didn’t seem so improbable anymore.

  She wasn’t usually a bold person. Her tongue was brash, but rarely did she follow upon its words with any action, especially with something she really wanted. Just like when her mother had told her she had to get a teaching degree, because what else could she do with an interest in music besides teach and work at a record store? She usually caved to convention. Yet sandwiched between these two men, she felt self-assured, more daring than she usually was, more willing to take the risk.

  She’d fantasized about being with two men, these two men, often, probably more than other women. After all, she walked in on almost every sexual activity known to man in the course of her job. Many of the fantasies normal people had she’d seen in the flesh, but she never thought she’d be one of those to experience so much.

  Since she’d quit her teaching position and joined this life, she’d always been an outsider looking in, watching what the musicians did, but never participating. But cradled between Lincoln and Gabe’s heat, Lincoln’s fingers smoothing over her skin, Gabe’s chest pressed into her back, she didn’t regret the change. It felt right, as if she’d found exactly where she was supposed to be.

  Lincoln's knuckles skimmed the side of her face, curving along her cheeks and down her jaw until they rested below her chin. He lifted her face with his index finger, directing her gaze up to his, her lips only an inch from his warm mouth. Behind her, Gabe’s hot breath tickled her nape and sent shivers along her spine.

  Lincoln’s soft lips brushed her own, his warm, wet touch circling her lips, taking the time to explore her mouth. Gabe’s hand traced along her shoulders, the heat of his body so close to hers it burned her across the limited space between them.

  Lincoln’s kiss intensified, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, twirling with her own, scraping across teeth. Gabe’s fingers explored lower. His touch skimmed her ribs, massaged the muscles of her back. Perfectly coordinated, they overwhelmed her with sensation, with touch and taste, heat and smell, until her brain was useless for anything more than giving or receiving.

  After a minute, Lincoln eased back, his hand tracing her neck as Gabe gripped her chin and shoulder, turning her toward him. Unlike Lincoln, he took no time for anticipation, no slow buildup or longing touches. Instead, his lips were instantly on hers. Fast. Hard. Intoxicating. His tongue plundered her mouth quickly, as if he’d been longing to do so for far too long and finally had his opportunity.

  Gabe’s taste was different than Lincoln’s, lighter, more natural, like a cool Irish ale. While Lincoln had the control and refinement that took years to cultivate, Gabe was rash, explosive, raw.

  Gabe’s fingers combed through her hair, keeping it back from her face while his thumbs positioned her best to receive each swipe of his tongue.

  Lincoln dipped his head to brush his lips along her throat, sprinkling kisses and sizzling nips to her neck. His hands smoothed over her body, along the edge of her leather jacket. The back of his hand grazed her breast, making her nipples pucker and ache for more.

  His fingers slipped under her lapels, peeling the jacket off her shoulders and down her arms as Gabe continued to assault her senses with his talented tongue. Lincoln’s fingers were soft and smooth, teasing as he removed her coat and deposited it on the floor at her feet. He scattered kisses along her shoulders, his tongue swirling across her overheated skin, desperate for more.

  His fingers traced the thin shoulder straps keeping up her corset, outlining the edge between. Beneath his touch her skin rippled, heating and tingling with excitement. Goose bumps rose along her arms and upper back. She moaned when his fingers followed the line of braided ties down her back fastening her shirt together. His mouth returned to her, kissing her neck and nibbling on her ear as his magical fingers worked loose the looped ribbon, starting at the very bottom.

  Her breasts tigh
tened in her shirt, as if aware that only a few more flicks of Lincoln’s fingers could have them free and open to the cool air or the warm, groping hands of these men. The rough, glittery fabric grated on her nipples, sending sharp sparkles of heat through the rest of her body.

  Lincoln untied the bow at the base of her corset, his fingers brushing against her lower back, the satin ribbon dangling and tickling the raised bumps of her spine. He slid the slippery fabric through one hole, then another. The cool air wafted over her naked back, clearing her mind slightly, chilling the ardor racing through her blood. A sliver of panic seized hold of her as Gabe released her mouth to explore her throat, his teeth scoring the column as he walked his way down her body, increasingly closer to the shadowy valley of her cleavage.

  “What about the interview?” she asked, reality attempting to return to her. Her breath shook as Lincoln released one more eyelet of her corset. The sparkly fabric loosened around her waist enough for his hands to fit inside and stroke her stomach.

  “What do you want to know?” Lincoln’s rough voice and hot breath tickled her ear, his teeth and tongue nibbling on the edge.

  “How long have you been doing this?” It may not have been the best interview question, but it was the most pressing query in her mind.

  “Doing which?” Gabe sucked on her collarbone, which would have made her jump if one of Lincoln’s strong arms wasn’t wrapped around her waist, holding her tight as he explored her stomach and ribs. His other hand pulled the satin ribbon holding her corset on free of one more hole.

  “How long have we been playing music together? Or how long have we been fucking women together?”

  Mallory sucked in her bottom lip, the heat and wetness between her legs increasing. Luckily she wasn’t expected to answer, her mind too muddled to even be sure herself which question she was asking.

  “We’ve been friends since sixth grade.” Lincoln’s fingers trailed up her body, tracing the bottom swells of her breasts.

  “He was my first mate in the States,” Gabe continued as his mouth worked down toward where Lincoln’s fingers caressed, placing small kisses along her upper chest and sternum. “We bonded during band class and have been playing music together ever since.”

  Mallory’s lips curled up in a smile, imagining these two strong, handsome men as teenage band geeks. She’d have liked to have seen that. But that wasn’t what she was really curious about.

  “As far as women”—Lincoln spoke the words directly into her ear, his hot breath swirling and raising the downy soft strands at her hairline—“that started much later.” Having released three more eyelets, Lincoln’s hand palmed her breast, rubbing in a circular motion that had her mewing.

  “What else do you want to know, love?” Gabe pulled back to look her directly in the eye. “How much we both love tattoos?” His warm fingers traced the tattoo on her upper left arm, the cranberry outline of a heart standing out against her pale skin. The letters PFM written in elaborate script, resided within the mauve outline.

  Lincoln’s fingers brushed her lower back. “I found one, too.” His fingers traced the black ink imbedded in her skin, mapping out the abstract musical scale swirling just below the base of her spine. Lincoln hummed the notes written across her back into her ear. The sounds melded with the rapid beat of her heart to form the most erotic song she’d ever heard.

  “How about our favorite sexual positions?” Lincoln’s whiskey voice whispered into her ear, increasing the ache in her cunt and the hot, thick trickle of desire between her legs. “I love to take a woman from behind. Push into her as fast and deep as I can.”

  Mallory’s breath hitched at the thought, the image of Lincoln bending her over and thrusting into her over and over almost making her whimper.

  “But Gabe,” Lincoln continued as he plucked at her nipples, “he likes to feel a woman on top of him. Watching her breasts, belly, and thighs buck upon him, riding to her own climax, pulling him along with her.”

  Gabe’s fantasy joined her mental picture, moving with Lincoln’s plunges, his fingers exploring her thighs as she rode him like a prize bronco. This time she couldn’t stop herself from moaning at the fantasy.

  “Would you like that?” Gabe asked as his questing palms smoothed down her stomach to press into the junction of her legs. His skillful fingers found her clit through the layers of denim and lingerie, placing pressure on the nub, not to soothe the fire, but instead inflaming the empty ache in her pussy. She nodded mindlessly, hardly conscious she was agreeing, only aware she needed relief. Now.

  Lincoln increased the pressure on her nipples, her chest quivering with the touch. He turned his gaze to Gabe. His mouth brushed just behind her ear, his warm breath ruffling her hair. “I think our beauty’s wearing far too many clothes for either of those dreams.”

  Chapter Four

  Gabe nodded, a wicked smile covering his lips as he slipped off the couch to the floor in front of Mallory. His hands gripped her ankles, slowly pushing them apart to make room for him between her legs. Lincoln admired his skill as Gabe deliberately brushed his body along her calves and inner thighs, listening to the hushed murmur of impatience and the increasingly exaggerated breaths detailing her desperation.

  Her hands clawed at Lincoln’s thighs as Gabe’s fingers applied a slight pressure to the seam of her jeans between her legs. Lincoln’s mouth watered, imagining how warm and wet her pussy was beneath the denim.

  Lincoln curled his fingers around her chin, her eyes lifting to his, flaring brighter than the fireworks celebrating the New Year. Her ragged breath filled the room, her pouted lips parted and gasping. Her tongue grazed the edge of her teeth, poised, waiting.

  She probably expected him to do something to her, but instead he only directed her gaze away from him, focusing her sight on Gabe kneeling between her legs. This was Gabe’s moment with her, his moment to explore and devour on his own. Lincoln was content to watch the blush envelop her body, lust invading her eyes, as Gabe pushed her to new heights.

  Heat crept up Lincoln’s hand from her flushed face as they both watched Gabe slowly push the metallic button of her jeans through its hole, the fleshy sides of his hands poised on the smooth skin of Mallory’s stomach.

  Lincoln kissed the line of her jaw, pinching her nipples in time with the release of her pants zipper, slow and steady, deliberate. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her, pressing on the small of her back, encouraging her to lift her hips so the tight pants would slide down her body.

  Her head rolled against the edge of couch as Lincoln reached her throat, sucking on the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. He slipped the thin straps of her corset down her arms until the fabric fell away from her curves. Her breasts and nipples tightened and puckered in the cool air. Lincoln dropped the golden garment to the floor with all the concern of a plastic party cup, leaving acres of exposed flesh for him to explore.

  Between her spread knees, Gabe grabbed the twin edges of her pant legs, tugging them from her ankles to leave her completely naked except for a skimpy black lace thong settled between her legs.

  Of course she was wearing black lace. There was nothing sexier on a woman than black lace, besides maybe a woman in nothing at all. Lincoln shifted his gaze to Gabe for a moment, sharing a look of gratification. They’d contemplated what type of underwear she might wear on several occasions, both dreaming Mallory would wear exactly what they’d just found between her thighs. They loved thongs.

  Lincoln’s balls tightened to his groin, heavy with the newfound knowledge. He’d never met a woman more perfect for them, meeting both his and Gabe’s needs in perfect symmetry, and he wasn’t going to let her go. Whether they had to pleasure her into mindless abandon, or steal all her clothes and force her to stay naked for the rest of their lives to keep her, they’d do it. Mallory wasn’t going anywhere.

  Curled up next to him, her warm, soft body pressed into his, Mallory moaned. At her feet Gabe massaged her ankles, his thumbs pressed into her neg
lected flesh. He pressed kisses to her knobbed bone, her sensitive instep. Lincoln kneaded her warm ample breasts, his arms crossing her body, holding her captive beneath his touch. His pulse pounded with each of her shuddered breaths and groans. He kissed her temple, using his lips to brush the long black strands of hair from her face.

  Mallory moaned again, clutching his shirt as Gabe massaged farther up her legs and Lincoln’s pinching fingers gripped her nipples hard.

  Lincoln bit her earlobe, tugging down lightly, loving every gasp and whimper from her excited lips. He’d imagined for some time what she would be like in the throes of passion, raw and emotional. The exact pitch she would scream as she came, responsive to his every touch. Her steel eyes glazed with passion, foggy and distracted. He and Gabe the only solid landmark in the sea of sensation they showered her with.

  That’s why Lincoln loved this arrangement. Sharing a woman with his best friend gave them the rare opportunity to push their lover beyond her comfort, demanding she devote all she had, and more to them. Lincoln thrived on being able to make his partners open and vulnerable in a way a woman could only be as one man pleasured her and another pumped inside her, shattering all her preconceived notions of control with wave upon wave of bliss.

  And with Mallory, he was even more determined to help her find that submission. Her tight, buttoned control, the heavy, protective walls around her heart, her desperate need for release, all called to him. He didn’t wish to give her just a sexual release, though she’d certainly need that as well, but also a release from the sadness he could always see in the depth of her stormy eyes, the weight of her isolation displayed in the crinkles around her mouth, the pain following her like one year after the next.

  He brushed his lips along Mallory’s neck, pulling back to find a playful smile covering her lips. A soft tug drew his attention downward to find her fingers wrapped around the buttons of his shirt, leaving an open trail of flesh for her touch.