Brothers In Arms 05: Retreat From Love

by Samantha Kane

  “Brett.” Anne’s voice stopped him. She had a throaty voice, seductive. Her laugh was intoxicating, better than the best brandy. With that one word she held him as tight as any rope. “Brett, please. Look at me.”

  He couldn’t deny her. He turned. She was standing in the water not a foot from Freddy. The water lapped at the lower curves of her breasts, breasts that he’d only gotten a glimpse of the other day. They were round, full but not heavy, just this side of lush. Perfect. Her small dark pink nipples were hard, plump and delicious looking. She was framed in the outline of Freddy’s body behind her.

  “Stay. Stay with us.” Anne spoke softly, but each word reverberated inside him. He had to turn away now, before it was too late. Before he forgot how to say anything but yes, forgot all the reasons to say no. At that moment Freddy stepped forward and put his hand on Anne’s shoulder, then ran his palm over the firm curve of it and down to grip her upper arm lightly. The sight of Freddy touching her broke everything in Brett. In that second he understood more about himself than he’d learned in the past thirty years. He wanted them both separately, but together they would fulfill him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. And he was weak enough to need it more than his desire to do the right thing. Without a word Brett began to undress.

  Anne smiled—a huge, happy grin. Then she laughed and Brett knew that he would treasure this moment, this day. Clearly they wanted him now. They needed him to bring them together here. But when Anne and Freddy were irrevocably tied to one another, deeply in love, because how could they not fall in love with each other, then he would leave. He ignored a small part of his conscience that whispered he was telling himself lies. Perhaps he was, but today he didn’t care. Today he would let himself have this.

  When he was naked he felt none of the self-consciousness he’d anticipated. Both Anne and Freddy were looking at him hungrily. They didn’t see his scars, his damaged leg. Maybe when the thrill wore off they would see how much older he was, his many imperfections. But right now they were as enthralled with what was happening as he was. Brett walked into the water.

  Suddenly Freddy laughed and he grabbed Anne under the arms and spun her up out of the water. She squealed and Freddy let her go, throwing her deeper into the pond. A laugh burst out of Brett at Anne’s scream of outrage. She sputtered out of the water and immediately splashed Freddy in the face.

  “You rotter!” she yelled. Brett could tell she wasn’t angry. He didn’t think she’d be. She seemed like the kind of woman who could give as well as she could take. The kind of woman who would see Freddy’s action as fun instead of worrying about her hair. She continued to splash Freddy repeatedly as he tried to get close to her.

  “Flank her, Brett,” Freddy yelled at him as he made a grab for Anne and she dodged him with a laugh. Brett laughed right back as he dove into the chest-high water and kicked toward Anne. She screamed as they tried to cage her in, but she was laughing so hard she could barely move through the water.

  “Don’t you dare!” she yelled, valiantly trying to splash them both behind her as she slogged through the water. Brett swam around her and burst from the water right in her path, surprising her. He shook his head and the water droplets from his hair flew all around. Anne covered her face with her arms, shrieking. Freddy came up behind her at that moment and grabbed her around the waist, producing another surprised shriek.

  “I’ve got you,” Freddy yelled with a laugh. “You can’t get away.”

  Brett closed in on her in front, crowding her into Freddy until his chest pressed against her breasts, flattening them. Anne squirmed between them.

  “What makes you think I want to?” she asked breathlessly.

  Brett was breathing heavily, their games quickly turning into play of another kind. He was exhilarated. Excited beyond anything he’d ever known before. He was going to do it. He was going to have Anne. And Freddy, or at least have Anne with Freddy.

  Anne was looking up at him from beneath lashes dark and thick with water. “Say something,” she whispered. “Tell me.”

  Brett realized he hadn’t spoken aloud. He hadn’t told her anything of what he was feeling. That was his way, he supposed. But he wanted to share this with Anne. “I want you,” he said softly, as he wrapped one of the damp curls that had fallen against her neck around his finger. “May I, Anne? May I have you?” It wasn’t enough, but he couldn’t find the words. He could never find the words when it was important. Instead he tried to convey everything he was feeling in his glance, in the caress of his hand down her arm, in the clasp of his hand around hers in the water.

  “Oh Brett,” she whispered, her voice wavering. She bit her lower lip and he wasn’t sure if it was water or tears shimmering on her lashes. “Yes, a thousand times yes.” Anne cupped his cheek in her free hand. She stood on her tiptoes, but she still wasn’t tall enough. Before Brett could lean down to kiss her, Freddy lifted her with the arm around her waist. Her eyes grew round, and Brett looked over her shoulder at Freddy. Freddy met his eyes as he kissed Anne’s shoulder and then licked the water from her creamy skin. The skin on Brett’s shoulder tingled as if Freddy had kissed him. Without hesitation he turned back to Anne and kissed her.

  Her warm, soft, receptive lips and the slow slide of her wet arms around his neck made him feel drunk. He sank into the kiss, pressing his lips heavily against hers until she parted her lips and his tongue swept inside. God, she was so hot, so wet, so greedy. She tasted like the sweet wine she’d drunk at lunch and the summer strawberries she’d gobbled up for dessert. The way she’d tucked them into her mouth, the tip of her tongue dancing out to taste them before she took a bite with her pretty, white teeth had made him achingly hard, until he didn’t think he could get any harder. Her kiss was proving he’d been wrong.

  He went to slide his arm around her waist and he encountered warm, smooth muscles that quivered at his touch. He broke away with a gasp. Freddy.

  Brett opened his eyes to encounter two pairs of blue eyes gazing at him, one blurred with passion, the other hot, intense and yet unsure. “Freddy,” he rasped, “lift her legs around my waist.” Brett slid his arm further around Anne, deliberately caressing Freddy’s stomach with his forearm. He felt more than heard Freddy take a quick, deep breath, his stomach tightening as he pulled it in. Then Freddy stepped closer, rubbing himself on Brett’s arm as he reached down and took hold of Anne’s thighs. He lifted her legs and Brett felt Freddy’s hands gliding along his sides as he slid them down Anne’s legs, wrapping them around Brett’s waist. Freddy ended with his arms wrapped around both of them, his hands gripping Anne’s ankles.

  Anne shivered in his embrace, moaning loudly. “That’s it, darling,” Brett murmured as he nuzzled her cheek. “Tell us how good it feels.”

  Anne laughed breathlessly. “You will hear more than you bargained for from me,” she told them. “I am not a very quiet lover.”

  Freddy chuckled behind her and Brett saw his dark, wet hair beyond her profile as Freddy leaned over and kissed her neck on the side opposite Brett. They were literally surrounding her, and she loved it. Hell, Brett loved it. Why had he and Freddy never taken a woman together before? Had Freddy done that too, with another man? Brett refused to let the jealousy overtake him. Freddy moved his hands on Anne’s ankles, and his wrists slid wetly along the upper curve of Brett’s ass. Brett groaned and his hips thrust against Anne as his arm clamped tight around her waist.

  Anne laughed again. “Oh dear. It would seem that Brett is not very quiet either.”

  Freddy chuckled again, but this time Brett heard a breathlessness that hadn’t been there before. Freddy thrust against Anne’s bottom, driving her hips into Brett’s, and all three moaned in unison.

  “It‘s a good thing we’re all the way out here,” Anne gasped, “or else we’d not be able to hide the fact that we are being very naughty.”

  “Very naughty?” Freddy drawled. “You, Miss Goode, and might I say your name is deliciously ironic at this point, are abou
t to be fucked by two men. That goes far beyond the commonplace definition of naughty.”

  Anne’s breathing had been reduced to pants. “Am I?” Her voice was low, weak, aroused and arousing. “I was hoping, but I didn’t want to assume.”

  Brett couldn’t contain his laughter. “Well, Freddy, she did say very naughty.”

  “Ah,” Freddy said sagaciously. “Well then, that makes all the difference.”

  “Are we going to talk all day?” Anne said a little peevishly. “Because my breasts are getting very lonely.”

  Brett laughed again. He couldn’t ever remember sex being accompanied by laughter. A strange thought entered his head. He supposed that if he’d ever had sex with Bertie there would have been laughter. What an odd notion. But it struck him then how like Bertie Anne was, and in many ways Freddy too.

  “Well, we can’t have that,” Freddy murmured, and he slid one hand up to cup her breast, as if offering it to Brett. Anne leaned her head back against Freddy’s shoulder. Freddy ran his thumb over Anne’s distended nipple and she gasped.

  “Hello, lonely nipple,” Freddy said, laughter in his voice.

  “How do you do,” Anne squeaked. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Brett was laughing even as he dipped his head down and sucked Anne’s oh-so-polite nipple into his mouth.

  “Oh God,” Anne groaned. “Suck it hard, Brett. I like that.”

  Brett moaned and did as she asked, his arm hiking her higher about his waist. Freddy took a step closer and Brett could feel his other hand slip down to hold Anne’s bottom, holding her up for him. “Yes, Freddy, just like that,” Brett murmured. He teased Anne’s nipple with the tip of his tongue, running it around the turgid tip, feeling the bumps of her areola, the smooth creamy perfection of the plump globe of her breast. Anne’s hands moved from Brett’s shoulders to grip his hair, holding him to her.

  “Brett, Brett,” she moaned, “God, how I’ve wanted your mouth on me. Do it again, again.”

  So he did, again and again, teasing licks around her breast and nipple, flicks of his tongue against the hard tip, and then sucking it into his mouth and pulling on it deeply for long minutes. She was so soft, like silk against his rough hands and his tongue, but at the same time firm, substantial. She was a woman he could love without worrying about hurting her.

  When Anne was moaning ceaselessly, helplessly, Brett moved to the other breast. “Don’t let this one get lonely, Freddy,” he murmured. He pushed Freddy’s hand up until his palm rubbed across the nipple he’d been tormenting.

  “I won’t, Brett,” Freddy said quietly. “I promise.” Brett watched as Freddy pinched the bright pink, aroused tip hard between his fingers and plucked it. Anne sobbed once, and when Brett glanced up he saw her biting her lip as she watched them at her breasts. Holding her gaze, Brett opened his mouth over her other nipple and simply engulfed as much of her breast as he comfortably could, nipple, areola and some of the creamy mound itself. Anne laughed breathlessly, ending on a groan as Brett sucked hard and out of the corner of his eye he saw Freddy still pinching and plucking and teasing.

  Brett made love to Anne’s breasts, touching them, running his fingertips over them, cupping them in his hands, kissing, licking and sucking them. And always Freddy was there too, his hands following Brett’s, sometimes leading the way, always offering her beautiful, increasingly sensitive breasts to Brett’s tender ministrations. Finally he gentled his play, as Anne writhed and moaned in their arms.

  “What about this, Anne?” Freddy whispered suggestively. “Is this lonely too?” Anne let out a weak cry as Freddy’s hand slid along her bottom, and then she gave a little jump. “Ah,” Freddy sighed, “desperately lonely. So hot, so tight, so wet. Just begging for some company.”

  Brett’s heart raced as he realized that Freddy had his finger, or fingers, inside Anne’s cunt. Immediately all he could think of was how desperately he needed to be in there. His cock jumped and in the cool water the moisture that leaked from his slit seemed inordinately hot.

  Anne shook her head, biting her lip. “I can’t, Freddy,” she croaked. “I can’t keep up the game. Yes, I’m desperate. I need to be fucked so badly. Please, please fuck me.”

  “Oh God,” Freddy whispered, burying his lips in the curls on the side of her head. He kissed her ear, and Brett was preparing to help lift Anne so Freddy could enter her. Suddenly Anne moaned and Brett felt a hand glide down and cup his balls.

  “Christ,” he burst out, it felt so good. “Freddy? What are you doing?”

  “I’m helping you fuck Anne, Brett,” Freddy said quietly. He sounded so reasonable as his palm slid down Brett’s length, making Brett gasp and tremble as his hips involuntarily pumped his cock into Freddy’s fist.

  “We need to move out of the deep water,” Freddy murmured. He looked at Brett, and Brett realized Freddy was as desperate as he and Anne, desperate for the two of them to fuck for him. His eyes were unfocused, narrowed and intense as he let go of Brett and began to drag Brett and Anne into shallow water.

  “Freddy, slow down,” Brett told him as he moved sluggishly through the water.

  “No, no,” Anne panted. “Fast, move fast.”

  Brett laughed breathlessly. “I promise to go as fast as I can.”

  “Oh God, Brett, I’m sorry,” Freddy cried out, and Brett knew he was on the edge because he’d lost that calm, jaded attitude he’d adopted over the last few years.

  Brett grasped Freddy’s arm to slow him down. “Freddy, it’s all right. But let’s get there together without tumbling into the water. I rather like this position.”

  “Oh God, so do I,” Anne said with a moan, moving against Brett, rubbing her wet pubic hair and hot slit along his stomach.

  “All right,” Brett gasped, picking up the pace, “I’m moving faster.”

  Freddy laughed breathlessly and they stopped when the water was mid-thigh on Brett. “Here, here is good.” It sounded as if Freddy had regained a little control, or at least Brett thought so until Freddy slammed himself up against Anne’s back and reached for Brett’s cock again, squeezing it ruthlessly as he ran his hand down Brett’s length.

  “Here is perfect,” Anne agreed in her husky voice. “Now make Brett fuck me.”

  Brett could do nothing more than moan his acquiescence.

  “Oh yes, perfect,” Freddy murmured. “Lift her a little higher, Brett, and then lower her when I have your cock in position.”

  “Oh my God,” Anne cried out. “Are you holding his cock? Freddy, Freddy, put it inside me, please.” Her plea was accompanied by a tightening of her legs as Anne raised herself, squirming in his arms as she tried to find Brett’s cock with her sex.

  Brett and Anne cried out in unison when the head of his cock slid into her hot, wet channel. It was almost too much. Freddy’s hand was still on him, pressed hard against the base of his cock and his balls. It was a delicious, forbidden pleasure, and combined with Anne’s tight, burning passage hugging his cock it was almost enough to bring him then and there. It had been so long, so long that he’d wanted these two people, and now he was having them. Mine. Mine. Mine. He thrust into Anne in rhythm to the chant in his head until he was fully seated in that glorious cunt.

  “Yes, yes, Brett,” Anne yelled, “yours.”

  Brett didn’t have time to regret that he’d spoken aloud. Anne began to move on him frantically, up and down, squeezing and crying out, and Brett couldn’t speak at all. Freddy’s palm rubbed against him, and Brett felt how warm and slick Freddy’s hand was from Anne’s moisture leaking out around Brett’s cock.

  “Freddy,” Anne cried.

  Her cry brought some clarity back to Brett, and he realized that Freddy was thrusting against Anne from behind. Brett slid his hand down Anne’s lower back. Freddy cried out when Brett encountered the head of his cock, thrusting against the plump, flexing cheek of Anne’s bottom. Brett clenched his jaw and measured his pace until he and Freddy were thrusting together.

  “Harder, fa
ster,” Anne panted. “God, Brett! You feel so good, so good.”

  She bit her lower lip, a habit of hers that Brett adored. But not here, not now. He leaned over and licked that tortured lip, sucked until she released her hold on it. “Don’t,” he rasped. “I want to hear you. Tell me.”

  Anne began talking endlessly—directions, praise, pleas for more. God, he loved how vocal she was. She knew what she wanted and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it. He gave it to her as best as he could. But it was Anne. Anne. How many times had he dreamed of this? His control was shattered by the reality of Anne and Freddy, here, with him.

  “Anne,” he whispered brokenly, pressing his cheek against hers, and then kissing her cheek, so soft, so warm. He moved the fingers of his hand that rested against Anne’s bottom and they ran across the wet, smooth, thrusting head of Freddy’s cock. It could have been an accident. Brett knew it wasn’t.

  Freddy’s hand was suddenly on the nape of Brett’s neck. It was more than a caress, it was possessive and firm and wonderful and Brett arched his neck into that hand with a growl, resting his forehead on Anne’s shoulder. Freddy’s grip tightened and then Freddy was there, with his lips pressed to the top of Brett’s head.

  Anne’s arms were wrapped around his neck. She had her fingers buried in the hair on his nape and she was pulling it ruthlessly in her clutching fingers. He didn’t care because it helped to keep him focused. She was gasping and panting and yelling in his ear, and Freddy’s breath was hot and heavy against his scalp, and Brett smiled with satisfaction.

  Freddy’s hand tightened on his balls and Brett lost his smile to a gasp. “Freddy,” he ground out, his voice a dangerous growl.

  Even breathless, Freddy’s voice sounded amused. “Yes, Brett?”

  Anne laughed, full and loud and wild and Brett threw back his head with an answering shout. He’d never felt so free, so open, so amazingly connected to someone as he was to Anne and Freddy in that moment, and there were no words for it, just his wild joyful shout.