by Willa Okati
“I’ve been somewhere most people never get to go. And to answer your other questions, no, no, and no.”
“Somewhere most people never go? Where is that, Calcutta? Last time I spoke to you, you’d just been dumped by that sorry-ass Paul. You were heading down to the pub for a drink. And then nothing.” She felt tears stinging in her eyes. “I thought you were dead, Ciara. And now you show up out of the blue like there’s nothing wrong at all?”
Ciara paused again, the silence hanging heavy on the line between them. “All I can say is that I’m sorry, Sara. I came across the chance of a lifetime and I had to take it.”
Sara snuffled. “But you’re back, now? You’re going to stay?”
“I wish I could, Sara. But I have a home with Ardal and Seanan now. I’m, um, with both of them. All three of us are together.” Ciara’s voice took on a wicked tone. “I have been educated in the ways of the sexual sandwich. I could write a book.”
“So let me see this new, improved you for myself. Come over for dinner,” Sara invited on the spur of the moment. “You know how I always cook too much. We can stuff ourselves sick and catch up on everything.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Of course I’m mad at you. But that doesn’t mean we’re not still friends. Come see me, woman. I’ll even leave the light on.”
“I wish I could make it tonight, but I wouldn’t be able to get there before midnight. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Yeah!” Sara enthused. “Elizabeth’s coming over -- you remember her? -- and we can have a real girls’ night in. Three women talking about men both good and bad, getting tipsy on Merlot and gossiping until our tongues go numb. Sound like a good time to you?”
“Oh, hell yes. Count me in. But for tonight…” Ciara paused on a hesitant note. “Well, I sort of need you to do me a favor. And I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you could handle yourself.”
That didn’t bode well. Sara took hold of her kitchen counter with one hand just in case this was bad as it sounded, and then cleared her throat. “What do you need?”
“A couple friends of Seanan’s are in town for the night. They’ve been seeing the States on, er, motorcycles. Thing is, their rides need some repairs and they don’t have the extra money for a garage or a hotel. I remembered how you had that great big barn just sitting empty, and I was hoping you’d let them use it as a bay to tinker around in until they’re ready to roll.”
“Let me see if I’m getting this right. You want me to take in two Hell’s Angels, possibly for the night? Are you for real or have you genuinely lost your mind?”
“They’re good guys.” Ciara sounded serious. “I’ve known them almost as long as Ardal and Seanan, and there’s not a mean bone in their bodies. They won’t get in your way. Just let them use the barn as a workspace and then they’ll be out of your hair. Please?” she wheedled. “Just for old times’ sake.”
Sara sighed. Everything rational pointed to a great big neon “NO WAY” sign. But… this was Ciara. Before flaking out and pulling her big disappearing act, she’d been the most trustworthy person Sara had ever known. If she said these guys were harmless, Sara had a gut instinct that they would be.
“Fine,” she relented. “But they don’t go near the house and I don’t get anywhere close to them.”
Ciara squealed excitedly. “Fantastic! I’ll tell Gent and Niall that it’s fine. And really, don’t worry. They wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She chuckled slyly. “You might say you don’t want to get near them now, but wait until you get a good eyeful. Might make you change your mind about being neighborly.”
“I doubt it.” Sara heard the sound of twin engines roaring up the dirt road. “You bitch. They were already on their way here, weren’t they?”
“No, honest. They’re just passing through and I told them I had a friend who might be able to help. Gent has a cell phone mounted inside his helmet. I’ll give him a call and tell him that he and Niall have to keep their distance. Don’t worry, Sara. It’s all under control.”
Sara wasn’t too sure about this. Still, it was for Ciara, so she gave in. “Tell them the barn door’s open. They can park their bikes wherever they like and get to work. But they have to be gone before I go to bed, probably around eleven or midnight.”
“Done.” Sara could almost see Ciara bouncing with excitement. “Okay, I’ve gotta go. But we’ll get together tomorrow night. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Her voice softened. “I really am sorry about leaving like I did. But I’ll tell you the whole story when we have more time.”
The sound of motorcycles was coming closer. “I’ll hold you to that,” Sara warned. “Now let me get back to my cooking before something burns.”
“Something’s going to burn, all right,” Ciara said wickedly. “You don’t plan to touch, fine -- but wait until you get a look at these two guys. Might make you change your mind.”
“Ciara, are you trying to set me --”
Click.
Sara stared at the cell phone, shaking her head. The whole day was taking on a kind of dreamlike feeling, as if nothing was actually real. What kind of Twilight Zone had she walked into when she should have been chopping vegetables and sipping a glass of Chardonnay?
Rick’s appearance. Ciara returning out of the blue.
And now, two burly biker-types roaring up her driveway.
Her day could definitely not get any weirder.
The motorcycles ground to a stop just outside her front door, the sound of gravel spraying loud as buckshot. Sara couldn’t help herself. Wiping her hands on a yellow-checked dishcloth, she made for the bay window next to her door and twitched the curtains back, taking a peek outside.
Her jaw dropped.
Good God. These were bikers? They looked like models as they stepped off their choppers, all long legs and easy grace, and fuck, the faces of angels topped off by silky falls of copper-red and nearly raven-dark hair that fell below their shoulders. They wore heavy leather bomber jackets, sinfully tight black jeans, and T-shirts that stretched with obscene tautness over bunched and rippling muscles.
Sara felt a tingle of excitement in her pussy, one she hadn’t felt since well before the advent of Rick. Rick had nothing compared to these guys. They beat him out in every department available with room to spare.
Their expressions were gentle as they talked softly to one another, words too quiet for Sara to make out. The brunet tossed his head back, hair flying, as he laughed uproariously at something his riding partner had said. Grinning broadly, the redhead reached over and hauled the brunet to him. They paused for a long moment, hovering so close to one another that anyone would have thought they were about to kiss --
-- And then they did. Sara moaned, taking herself by surprise as she stared at the two men engaged in the hottest kiss she’d ever seen. They were rough with one another, hands coming up to grasp necks and wandering down to grope asses. They even began grinding against one another, although as soon as they started that, they stopped, giving guilty looks up at the house.
Looking straight at Sara, staring at them from her spot in the window.
She gave a small meep and yanked the curtains closed. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but her panties were damp with excitement. Who knew that seeing two men together would be such a turn-on? She’d never had the pleasure before, but God, was it hot.
On an impulse, Sara snapped the heat off on her stove, walked to her front door and undid the locks. She pulled it open and stood with her legs braced and her hands on her hips. “You must be Gent and Niall. Ciara told me you’d be dropping by. Care to come inside for something cool to drink?”
Gent and Niall exchanged glances. The one with red hair spoke up. “I’m Gent, aye; this is Niall; and we’ll gladly share your hospitality.” He had a nice, pleasant tenor with a slight accent, as if he’d been born in Ireland but spent most of his life in the States. “Bread and salt would be a blessing.”
“I can handle that much. If you’re really hungry, I ca
n go as far as a home-cooked meal.” Sara relaxed her posture, eagerly eyeing Gent and Niall up and down. Sinfully handsome and well-mannered. What better way to forget about Rick and all his bastard ways than to spend an evening with the hottest men she’d ever seen?
Ciara had said they were trustworthy. She’d trust in Ciara.
Stepping back, Sara beckoned with one hand. “Come on in,” she welcomed them. “Let’s get to know each other.”
Really know each other. Maybe over more than dinner. There are all kinds of things I’d like to do with men who sizzle like this pair.
I’ll forget Rick, for sure, and I’ll have all the eye candy I could want.
Sounds like a plan to me.
She grinned as the pair walked up her steps. “Come inside. Take off your coats. Make yourselves at home.”
Gent gave her a look that smoldered with interest and heat, sending goosy shivers down Sara’s spine. That was a look that spoke of more than just a casual interest. He was measuring her up, checking her out -- and so was the brunet, from what she could tell.
Sara shuddered in pleasure as she closed the door behind her two new men. Talk about a way to wash Rick right out of her hair.
This was definitely going to be a night to remember.
Chapter Two
Sara led the two hunks of man-meat through the minefield she called her den. Gent paused to chuckle, probably at the sight of all the magazines strewn about, the can of beer left to ferment on her coffee table, and shoes of all kinds kicked off everywhere.
“Something interesting?” Sara queried, looking over her shoulder at Gent, secretly appreciating the way his long, fiery locks fanned out across the worn leather of his biker’s jacket. “No apologies, by the way. I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
Especially not company who looked like they’d stepped out of GQ, the rough-and-tumble special issue. Sara turned around completely to savor another look at the pair of them. Gent, open and friendly, and downright lickable. Niall, just as tasty, looked like the strong and silent type, not having said a word so far. All the same, his lips were tilted in a grin.
Sara chuckled. “Okay, so I keep house like a bachelor. But when you’re single, no attachments, why not?”
Something flared to life in Gent’s eyes. “So you don’t have a man about, then?”
“I did. He decided he’d rather be a playboy than settle down.” Sara shrugged. “No big loss. He did me a favor by dumping me at the altar.”
One of Gent’s red eyebrows raised. “And you’re not going after him with a rifle and murder on your mind?”
“Nah. Like I said, I’m better off. I’d been lying to myself about him for months, but now my eyes are open.” She ran her gaze appreciatively down the length of Gent’s body. “Wide open.”
Gent returned her gaze with heated interest, the kind of look that went straight to a woman’s pussy and made it start to ache, starting her thinking about all kinds of wicked things. “Well then. If you’ve no man about, then I’m thinking that all the folk in this town are blind and daft. A pretty lady like yourself should be beating them off with sticks.”
“Oh, I plan on being a lot choosier in the future.” Sara focused on the impressive bulge in Gent’s jeans. Didn’t look like an erection, but boy howdy, did he have potential. Rick had definitely been lacking in that department, but she’d convinced herself that their relationship wasn’t all about sex.
Which should definitely have been one of her first clues about how wrong she’d been. When every round of sex left her unsatisfied and turning to the vibrator when Rick had left, or when he was snoring away like a log beside her, that should have been a great big warning sign about their future together.
How, Sara wondered, did Rick get all those women, Kiki included, when he was hung like a flea? Probably the money. Rick’s trust fund had carried him a long way, enabling him to stuff ten-dollar-bills down glittery G-strings and shell out whatever the going rate was for lap dances or private sessions with the balloon-chested catwalk ladies.
“Choosier, eh?” Gent’s expression was alight with interest. He shifted position, not quite posing but definitely showing off the goods. “I wonder what you’d think about a man like me.”
Okay, so that was going for the gold a little sooner than Sara had planned on. But why not? She’d known from the second she saw this pair of men that she was going to ride them off into the sunset. A woman didn’t just toss away a couple of male model types, not if she had any kind of sense.
A small part of her mind told her that she was just rebounding from Rick’s betrayal.
The rest of her mind voted that corner down and ordered her to jump Gent for all they were both worth.
Sara coyly licked her lower lip, trailing it softly across the plump surface. She had a good mouth, one of her better features, and from the way Gent’s eyes were drawn to it, he agreed. “A man like you, huh? I’d wonder if he had a lucky lady waiting on him somewhere out there.”
“I’ve no one except Niall. He and I make fine riding partners. Niall, don’t hang back now. There’s no reason to be shy.”
Niall flashed Gent an annoyed look. “And how could I get a word in edgewise?” he demanded, his voice wonderfully low and gravelly. He shook his head, dark brown hair tossing over his shoulders and chest. His face was cut on more rugged lines than Gent’s, suggesting that he was older and had lived a rougher life. Not that Gent didn’t look like he could take care of himself.
The two of them together… mmm. Sara felt her pussy start to tingle again, her panties growing damp. Seemed like she had an unexplored kink in her makeup, something that responded ever so nicely to the thought of these men kissing. Possibly doing more. Getting naked together, rubbing solid male hands over hard chests, reaching for one another’s cocks… whoo. If she kept on going, she’d need a cold shower.
“Say anything you want,” Sara invited. “Don’t be shy.” She stepped closer to Niall, getting nice and personal, her chest almost touching his jacket. She marveled at herself. Just a couple of days ago, she wouldn’t have dared, what with being a foolishly faithful type. But with Rick gone, she was starting to feel like a wild woman.
Niall -- and Gent -- were there for the taking. So why shouldn’t she just enjoy the pair of them? Damned if Sara could think of a reason.
She reached up and tugged at the lapels of Niall’s leather coat. She wasn’t big enough to manhandle the guy, but she managed to drag him down into her personal space -- that, or he went of his own free will. “I’m not shy. Are you?”
Niall’s eyes glittered. “I’m not the talkative sort, not at least until I get to know someone.”
Sara wet her lips. “Oh, really? Tell me this. Does anything make you scream?”
“I’m usually the one making someone else scream.” Niall’s voice twined around her like smoke, sending bolts of electricity straight to her pussy. Oh, yeah, she’d bet he knew how to make a woman holler Holy Hallelujah.
Sara reached up on tippy-toes and twined her arms around his neck. “Is that a fact?”
Niall nodded. “And not just once. Time and time again.” He looked up. “Isn’t that right, Gent?”
Sara felt Gent’s warmth come up and blanket her from behind. The leather of their coats made slippery, alive sounds as he cradled her back and Niall pulled her flush with his chest. Gent spoke against her ear, tickling the skin. “We’ve had many a fine night with willing lasses,” he said, “but usually it’s his choice or mine. Hardly ever do we find someone we agree upon.”
“And now?” Sara dared to ask, holding perfectly still. She wanted to rock her hips forward against Niall’s groin, or back against Gent’s prick, but she waited for what they had to say. Whatever they told her or what they chose to do would make or break this evening right then and there. “Do you both think I’m good enough?”
Niall lifted his hand to tangle his fingers in a lock of her long blond hair which tumbled loose from the messy bun she’d tied
it in while she was working in her kitchen. “I think Gent and I might be in agreement. You’re a bonny lass, aren’t you, Sara?”
Sara blushed. She wasn’t used to compliments. But from what she could read of him, Niall wasn’t trying to butter her up. He meant the compliment sincerely, and that growing bulge between his legs underlined his words. Sara grinned coyly and pushed her hips forward, feeling the burning heat of his cock through his jeans.
“Don’t do that unless you truly want this,” Niall warned. He swallowed as if his throat were dry. “After all, you don’t know us at all. We might be any sort of bad things, from killers to thieves to drunkards.”
“I trust Ciara. She wouldn't have sent you if you were dangerous. Besides, I don’t smell whiskey on your breath, you haven’t pulled out a gun, and you haven’t been looking around for anything valuable.” Sara felt a heady thrill of power. “You’ve been looking at me. I’m going to bet that the only thing you want is a taste of what I’ve got to offer.”
“And is that offer on the table?” Niall drew her closer. Gent went with the flow, shuffling so he could continue to bracket Sara’s back. Niall cupped her chin and rubbed her bottom lip with one thumb. “You’re the kind of woman who’s worth more than just a casual fuck. As pretty and welcoming as you are, you need someone who’ll make you feel like the queen you should be.”
“I’m no queen. Just a commoner.”
“If I say you’re royalty, then you are,” Niall insisted. “Gent?”
“Oh, she’s a queen, all right.” Gent nuzzled into the curve of Sara’s shoulder. His tongue flickered out briefly, dotting against her skin. Sara moaned softly, unable to help herself, and leaned her head back into the caress. Gent laughed against her skin. “And so eager, too. What do you say, Niall? We came here for a place to fix our bikes, but I’m thinking the lady’s developed a personal interest in our well-being.”
“Wouldn’t want you to suffer,” Sara said, feeling every inch a woman and so desperately ready for sex that the insides of her thighs were growing damp. Her pussy throbbed, hungry for a cock that would stretch her wide and make her cry out someone’s name. Whether it was Gent or Niall, she didn’t care. Either one of them would do, but with two she could definitely go for a second helping.