“He said he just wanted to be home for a while, and spend some time doing what he loves best.”
“Being a mechanic,” Tasha said.
“That and woodworking.” Gord passed the meat platter over to Clay. “He and Mike—Carmichael Jones—have been best friends forever. Mike’s dad taught them—as well as Jordan Kendall, the third member of their best-friend trio—how to be cabinet makers and woodworkers when they were just kids.”
He sat back and looked down at his plate. Tasha guessed he was looking back to his own younger days. “Now Jordan, he took right to the basics of carpentry, which was how he started his construction career, as a framer for other companies. But Terry and Mike had other interests. For them, in the beginning, carpentry was just for fun. Of course, Mike moved on to take over the family business of fine furniture crafting. But when he and Terry were kids, they built themselves a little fishing boat. I’m trying to recall how old they were…hell, they couldn’t have been more than twelve, the two of them. Talked about someday building a yacht together, taking it out to the sea.”
“And I’ll bet no one discouraged them, even though they’d have to go quite a distance to put a boat that big into the water,” Tasha said.
Gord shrugged. “One thing I can say about Lusty. Dreams are always safe here.”
Dreams are always safe here. Tasha marveled at the simplicity of that sentiment stated with such absolute faith.
Clay didn’t say anything in response to Gord’s words, and she guessed that, even though he was a member of the families, he, too, found the tenet a remarkable one.
Tasha prided herself on being an upbeat person. She didn’t believe in giving in to the negative impulses any more than absolutely necessary. After all, no human being could stay positive twenty-four seven. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of the way some people seemed to relish attacking the dreams of others.
She considered herself blessed. Her parents—her adoptive parents—had encouraged her to chase her own dreams. They’d both been educators, and one might be forgiven for believing, on first impression, that they would have wanted their only child to reach for the stars, academically speaking.
They’d encouraged her to reach, instead, for her heart’s desire. Her parents had told her, time and time again, that all they aspired to, on her behalf, was for her to be happy.
I think Mom and Dad would love Lusty.
“Hey, beautiful, where did you go?”
Gord’s question drew her attention, and pulled a smile out of her. “I’m right here.” She set aside internal debates and dialogues for the remainder of the evening.
Instead, she was going to focus on these two very sexy men.
After dinner, it didn’t take long to put dishes into the dishwasher and set the kitchen to rights. The sun had set. Gord turned off the main lights, leaving the one above the sink to shed a soft glow through the room.
Tasha turned to face Gord as he walked toward her, and smiled when she felt Clay move in close behind her. “Hmm, this certainly is promising. I love being between the two of you.”
Gord lifted her chin with a single finger. Desire burned in his eyes, and as he breathed her in, his nostrils flared. “Will you come and lie with us? We both want you rather desperately.”
Arousal, like tiny flames, licked at her nerve endings, heating her blood and racing her heart. “That’s handy. I want the two of you rather desperately, too.”
Clay nuzzled her ear and nibbled her neck. “Then let’s go up to bed, baby.”
Tasha liked that this time, they let her walk up those stairs. Not that she didn’t enjoy being carried, because she certainly did. But she liked owning her own choices. So Tasha led the way to the master bedroom, a confident, empowered woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
“Give us a moment to set the mood, darlin’.” Gord had put candles out around the room. As he went about lighting them, Clay selected some soft, smoky jazz to play on the sound system. The scent of honeysuckle, light and teasing, spread through the air. Aroma and music combined into a subtle kind of seduction, one that touched Tasha in all the right places.
When both men turned to her, she let them see in her eyes how much she wanted them. Then she reached for the hem of her sweater. Gathering the soft wool into her hands, she lifted the garment over her head and tossed it aside.
“My God.” Clay’s reverent tone struck just the right note.
Both men stood transfixed, so while she had their attention, she kicked off her shoes, unsnapped her jeans, and slid them down her legs—leaving her thong in place, of course.
“My mouth is watering,” Gord said. “Natasha Garwood, you’re the most beautiful and the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Amen to that,” Clay said.
“Why thank you, gentlemen. But I do believe y’all are overdressed for the occasion.”
“Just give us a minute,” Clay said. He let her know that he enjoyed looking at her—both by the way his eyes glittered, and the way his cock formed a very prominent protrusion in his pants.
“Minute’s up. I need to get my hands on you two.”
She didn’t have to say another word. Gord and Clay began to strip with a speed she could only call astounding. They didn’t stop at their briefs, either, just shucked them along with the rest of their clothes.
“Now who’s overdressed?” Clay stalked her, causing a shiver of excitement to skitter down her spine.
He stopped in front of her and then gently caressed the mounds of her breasts where they pushed above the edges of her bra. “This is one hell of a sexy bra, baby. But it has to go.”
Gord had approached her, but this time he took up position behind her. “Allow me.” His touch light, he slipped the bra’s hooks out of their eyelets.
Clay plucked the undergarment from her body and reached for her left breast while Gord cupped her right one.
“You’re so responsive to our touch.” Clay’s soft sigh rippled through her. As arousal grew within her, she laid her head back on Gord’s shoulder and gave herself over to their sweet, teasing touches.
“It feels good when you caress my breasts. I never knew there were nerves running from my nipples to my clit before the two of you began to touch me.”
“Your nipples get so hard, darlin.’” Gord sounded transfixed as he played with her. “Do they hurt when they pinch up like that?”
“Sort of, but it’s a good kind of hurt—one that gets me even hotter—and wetter.”
“How about this, then?” Clay plucked one nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then pulled, stretching the skin. He added a small pinch and Tasha sucked in air.
“Oh yeah, that’s good,” Tasha sighed. The sexy little zings of arousal running between her nipples and clit felt better than good. “I never knew I’d like that.”
“The men you’ve known must all have been idiots,” Gord said. He hooked his thumbs in the waist band of her panties, and then slid them down. He kissed his way down her back as he slipped into a crouch, and laid a luscious lick on her bared ass that nearly made her giggle.
When she felt the scant material on her ankles, she easily kicked the thong aside. Gord smoothed his hands up her legs to her hips as he rose to his feet again. Then he slid his arms around her, bringing his hands to rest just above her mons.
“I think they must have been idiots—all two of them. I never felt like this when they touched me, not once.”
“How do you feel?” Clay’s eyes focused on hers. Often serious, bordering on somber, Tasha knew he needed her words to help him sort out his own emotions. Aloof he may appear to be from time to time, but Clay Dorchester was not an aloof man at heart.
“You make me feel feminine, powerful, and very, very sexy.”
“You’re all of those things, darlin,” Gord said. He pulled her closer until her back pressed against his front and his arms hugged her close. “You’re all of those things, and more.”
“You ar
ouse the male animal inside me,” Clay said, “when I never thought it would stir again. Talk about feeling powerful? When we have you between us and watch your passion take you over, we feel powerful—invincible.”
His honesty melted her and his vulnerability humbled her beyond measure. The sensations of the erections in front and behind her were appealing, but the gift of the emotions this wounded man offered her was, in her mind, even more compelling.
“I like what we were together Wednesday night—what we became. I want more of that.”
“Anything you want,” Clay said. “We’ll give you anything you want, sweet Tasha.” He lifted her face and laid his mouth on hers.
Infinitely gentle, this kiss wooed her with sweetness and seduced her with tenderness. She opened her mouth, drawing him in, hungry for his taste and needful of his touch.
Heat surrounded her, warming even the parts deep inside she’d thought, once, had been frozen forever. As Clay’s tongue explored her mouth and lapped her up, hands—his and Gord’s—wove a pattern of arousal over her sensitized skin.
Clay lifted his lips from hers and met her gaze.
“More.” She tilted her head back and up. Looking over her shoulder, her gaze brushed Gord’s lips. He understood her silent request, cupped her face, and settled his mouth on hers.
There was that elusive taste again, the flavor of both men on her tongue. He used his lips to suckle hers, and his tongue to drink her essence. The slide and the glide and the moist heat thrilled her, deepening her craving for them both.
Clay cupped both breasts, pinching her nipples lightly. When she rolled her hips, one of his hands traveled down, and stroked over her slit. Up and down, he worked his fingers between the lips of her pussy. She felt her moisture on his hand, and shivered when he brushed those dampened fingers against her clit.
Gord released her lips but spread butterfly kisses on her face. She shivered, the twin sensations taking her impossibly high. “Oh, please.”
“Mmm, yes. We’ll please you, baby.” Clay slipped to his knees and put his mouth on her pussy. Tasha wound her arms up and around Gord’s neck. He cupped her breasts and held her tight while Clay used his lips and tongue on her wet folds. Over and around and then in, his intimate kiss set all her nerve endings on fire. Tiny little zaps of pure electricity crackled all over her body. Tasha understood in that moment how a person could become addicted to sex, to lovemaking. Her body’s quest for orgasm became the center of her existence, and the wondrous sensations these men gave her just made her want more and more and more.
Tasha’s hips moved in a steady, seeking rhythm. Gord turned her face up to his again. “I want to kiss you as you come for us, sweet darlin’.” He laid his lips on hers and plundered.
Gord’s tongue invaded her mouth, and Clay’s tongue invaded her pussy, and their stroking, incredibly in sync, pushed her over the edge. Tasha came, her entire body awash in rapture so sweet, so sharp, she shook from the force and the beauty of it.
They held her as her climax soared, and held her still as it began to ebb. Then Clay moved up her body, took her in his arms, and carried her to the bed.
“Kiss me, Tasha. Let me share your essence with you. Taste how sweet you are.”
This was a new pleasure, never before enjoyed until these men. No thought of turning away, Tasha instead eagerly accepted Clay’s kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, and that flavor sparked her arousal anew. When he moved, when he thrust his cock into her pussy, she moaned into his mouth, wrapped her legs around his hips, and returned his advance.
The heat from his body enveloped her and she imagined him a man on fire. Holding him close, Tasha answered Clay’s demand, giving all she was, taking all she could, as their dance quickened, racing their hearts and stealing their breath.
Clay slid a hand beneath her ass and pulled her up and into his thrusts. His groin rubbed against her clit, his hot hard shaft rubbed against the walls of her feminine tunnel, and his tongue took possession of her soul.
She felt his cock harden and quiver, and she drank his shout of triumph as he came inside her. Breaking their kiss, Tasha cried out as her own orgasm possessed her, as the sensation of his jism spurting inside her pushed her over the edge into a free fall of bliss once more.
Chapter 12
Honeysuckle and sex. Maybe we can bottle it. Tasha sighed and rubbed her heels up and down the backs of Clay’s legs. She really liked this part, the moments when she cradled her lover between her thighs. Tasha didn’t think he was too heavy for her—neither of them were. They were both just right.
She felt the bed dip and turned her head to the right.
Beside her, Gord stretched out, his head on his hand as he looked at her. His smile reached his eyes and she had the distinct impression that here was a man who was very, deep down in his soul, happy.
He leaned over and gave her a gentle, almost chaste kiss. “I am so turned on right now. Watching you climax is a beautiful sight, darlin’.”
Clay sighed, lifted his head, and kissed her in almost the exact same way that Gord had just done. “You are beautiful when you let go, when you surrender to…to the pleasure.”
It wasn’t just the pleasure she’d surrendered to. She’d surrendered to Clay. A shadow was there in his eyes and then gone again in less than a heartbeat. But she’d seen it, and she understood it.
She didn’t say anything. She simply ran her hands up and down his back, and left her ankles hooked over his legs. She loved the texture of his flesh as it was now, dotted with perspiration. The scent of honeysuckle did blend well with the aroma of sex, and the soft music just made everything feel languid and mellow.
“I should move,” Clay said. “Gord’s being very patient, but I think he wants you now.”
“Hmm, I do want her now, but you don’t have to leave, Clay.” Gord reached over and stroked the side of Tasha’s face.
When she met his gaze again he said, “Do you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to take you from behind while you’re cuddling and kissing Clay. And as I do, I want to play with your ass.”
Tasha was pretty sure that she just fell all the way in love with Gord Jessop. She nodded and hoped he could read in her expression not only her agreement, but her understanding.
This relationship, if it were to work, would have to be the three of them, not her with one and then the other of them.
“I’d like that. It would make me the filling in a man sandwich.” She grinned then turned her smile on Clay to see what he thought of his friend’s request. Of course, she didn’t have to really wonder. Inside her body, his nearly flaccid cock twitched, and grew, gaining new life.
“I’m all for giving our woman what she wants.” Clay lifted himself enough so he could withdraw from her, then laid on her left, and turned her to face him. Reaching down, he lifted her right leg and brought it over his hips.
Cool air kissed her damp pussy and she shivered. Gord stretched out and she heard the sound of a bedside table drawer opening. Then he was close to her once more. He kissed the shell of her ear. “I’m going to use a bit of lube to make it feel better for you.”
Gord ran the back of his hand over her ass, then slid his fingers in the crease between her cheeks. The lube felt cool as he brushed it back and forth over her anus. Tasha hummed, because the stroking felt good. He began a rhythmic caress that saw him press against her rosebud in a pulsing kind of push. Tasha picked up his rhythm, and when he pressed his finger against her anus, she pushed back, just a little.
“How does that feel, darlin’?”
“Good. Different than when you play with my clit.”
“Good. Just a bit more now. Lay a little more on Clay for me.” She did as he said, and Clay wrapped his right arm around her, holding her close.
Gord moved closer to her, and his heat became hers. This was as close as the three of them had ever been. She could feel Clay’s cock, still damp from her juices, nestled against her belly. As Gord began to place gentle k
isses on her shoulder, and continued to stroke her anus, Clay’s cock hardened even more.
“Darlin’, don’t you wonder what it’s going to be like when you have us both inside of you at the same time?” Gord whispered against her neck and Tasha’s juices gushed.
“Yes. I’ve dreamed about it. I even imagined having two men inside me at once, long before I ever came to Lusty.”
“One of your sexual fantasies, was it?” Clay asked.
“Yes, it was.” Tasha nodded, then sighed. “Every woman has sexual fantasies, and a lot of women imagine being between two men—being the focus and the center of that much attention and loving.”
“Tell us some of you other fantasies, darlin’.” Gord used his fingers on her, stroking her anus, pushing in a bit more forcefully. He was using his left hand on her ass. He adjusted his position, and then the fingers of his right hand came up and stroked her slit, and up and down kind of foray. Making his caress longer, he dipped his fingers inside her pussy and then brought them out of her, spreading her moisture on her labia and over her clit.
Tasha shivered. Intimacy had many different levels. This was one—being naked and open between two naked and needy men. But the deeper, more difficult intimacy lay in daring to answer Gord’s question.
“Being captured.” She licked her lips, and felt her heart rate increase. This was another kind of sexual excitement, putting into words, aloud, what had only ever been nebulous thoughts and phantom images in the night to aid masturbation. “I’ve fantasized about being captured and forced to submit—seduced to submit.”
“Being taken and used, and forced to enjoy the process? Your hands bound, your will circumvented?”
Clay’s question revealed an understanding of her. Did all women have those kinds of fantasies? She didn’t know, for as open and talkative as she’d been with gal pals over the years, this one subject had always been taboo.
Tasha had never believed herself to be that unique among the members of her sex, so the answer to her own question was “probably.” Fantasies were fantasies for a reason—not to imagine them into becoming real necessarily, but to allow a mental and maybe emotional journey to a land that would never be real.
Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12