He returned his stare to Aidan. “McKenzie is so fucking gorgeous.” The sides of his lips twitched a little in a small smile. “And God help me, the thought of you making love to her…”
He left the rest of the sentence dangling between them, saying instead, “I hear music again. I feel it in my soul, but the song isn’t finished.” He paused again, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down in his throat. “Just one day, that’s all I ask. Just one day, the rest of this day. Please.”
Aidan stood motionless, the heat of McKenzie’s body seeping into his side, his stare locked on Nick Blackthorne’s haunted face. His ears rang with a low roar, his heart thumped a wild tattoo. He didn’t know what to say.
But surely, that is answer enough? As is Mack’s silence?
He pulled a swift breath. McKenzie hadn’t said a word either. Not one. Her uncharacteristic failure to respond to the rock star made his throat tight. And not just his throat. His balls grew hard, his cock twitching with interest. He turned to face her, the delicate scent of her release still lingering on the suite’s still air.
Nick was correct. She was fucking gorgeous. He’d known that forever. Every night when he’d closed his eyes he’d seen her, imagined her moving over him, riding his shaft, her hair rumpled like it was now, gorgeous and sexy and his, all his. But now, right now, right at this very moment in time, it wasn’t just he and McKenzie he saw in his head.
And by the shaky way she drew breath, by the way her eyes were dilated and the way her nipples were erect and hard beneath the thin cotton of her shirt, he suspected Nick was in her head as well.
Which should have made him jealous as all hell, but instead made him so fucking aroused his cock was a rod of agonized steel.
The world’s most lusted-after celebrity, the man described by Rolling Stone magazine as “sin and sex and soul”, was inspired by what he and McKenzie had. How could he not be turned on?
Aidan gazed at her, unable to find the words to vocalize his thoughts.
She studied him, her eyes wide, her lips parted, the tiny pulse at the base of her neck beating so quickly he could see it fluttering beneath her smooth skin.
Did he ask her? Did he dare?
He didn’t have to. A small smile began to pull at her lips, the kind he recognized so very well: the kind that said she was with him. No matter what, she was with him. He’d seen it so many times since he’d first met her that if he were an artist, he could draw it with his eyes closed. But he wasn’t an artist, he was a firefighter. And a man. The luckiest fucking man on the planet.
He cocked an eyebrow at her and let his own smile stretch his lips. I’m with you too.
Without a word to either him or Nick, McKenzie turned and crossed the suite’s carpeted floor, her hips swaying in that naturally sensual way he knew was unpracticed or contrived, her naked butt barely hidden by the hemline of the shirt she wore.
She stopped at the expensive iPod docking station that was part of the suite’s luxurious inclusions, bending a little at the waist until her fingertips swirled over the iPod she’d placed there on checking in.
He heard Nick suck in a swift breath at the teasing glimpse of her perfect arse peeking out at them from beneath the rising hem of her shirt. Heard the man’s feet shuffle a little, and then the room filled with the low, muted sounds of Nick Blackthorne singing the love ballad that catapulted him onto the world’s music stage and gave him his first number one selling, multi-platinum release: “Night Whispers”.
The smoldering lyrics wafted from speakers embedded in the walls, Nick’s voice husky and raw, the lyrics lamenting the loss of love when courage failed.
Aidan sucked in his own breath. He knew this song so very well. He’d danced with McKenzie at their high school formal to this song. The only slow dance they’d ever shared.
“And I want to beg but I can’t find the words,” Nick from fifteen years ago sang, the evocative sound of an acoustic guitar his only accompaniment.
“And I want to cry but I can’t find the tears.
“And all that’s left is the shadow of your heart and the ghost of your smile…
“And the whispers in the night.”
Aidan’s throat grew tighter. Thicker.
As did his cock.
But no more so than when McKenzie—her back still to him and Nick—crossed her arms in front of her body and slowly, without turning to face them, lifted her shirt up over her head.
Aidan’s heart skipped a beat.
Jesus Christ.
Her back was beautiful. He devoured its sublime perfection with greedy eyes, following the subtle curve of her spine from the smooth column of her neck down to the equally smooth curves of her arse cheeks. His mouth filled with water at the sight of the twin dimples denting her flesh just above the swell of each one, his cock jerking with insistent need.
“Bloody hell,” he heard Nick murmur behind him.
“And all that’s left is the shadow of your heart and the ghost of your smile…” Nick crooned from the iPod, his voice cracking, the guitar strings echoing his torment. “And the whispers in the night.”
McKenzie turned to face them.
Two sets of eyes moved over her naked body. Two men staring at her with undeniable, molten want.
McKenzie stood still. Erect. The suite’s cool, air-conditioned air slipped over her exposed flesh, between her thighs, over the folds of her sex and her taut nipples. A ripple of wanton delight claimed her, making her pleasure-swollen breasts grow rounder, pinching her nipples tighter. She lifted her chin, catching her bottom lip with her teeth.
Her iPod continued to play, the sounds of Nick singing “Night Whispers” slipping over her nerve endings. Her heart didn’t just hammer in her chest, it beat out a rhythm so wild, so frantic she could barely draw breath.
Was she really doing this?
Yes, she was.
She was about to let two men make love to her at once. Her firefighter and the world’s most desired rock star.
It was Aidan who moved first.
With a growl, he crossed the floor, nostrils flaring, his hands removing his shirt as he did so.
McKenzie only had a second to gaze in stunned rapture at the sheer strength of his naked torso, its muscled width marked by a stunning tattoo of a heart set alight with deep red flames directly above where his real heart sat, before his mouth was crushing hers and his hands were on her body.
His tongue delved past her lips, finding hers and battling with it. His hands roamed up her back, the line of her neck and into her hair, fisting in the strands at her nape, holding her head motionless as his mouth turned hungrier, more demanding.
Liquid heat pooled in McKenzie’s sex at his dominating possession. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, his tongue swirled inside her mouth. He sucked and plundered and fucked her mouth, and all the while his massive erection ground against her belly, making her head spin and her pussy constrict and her pulse pound.
She pressed her hands to his hard chest, her fingertips resting on the pebbled points of his nipples. The contact drew a low groan from Aidan, the sound vibrating through her body. It was a wild sound, desperate and aggressive at once. She liked it. A lot. She stroked her fingers over his nipples, her pussy fluttering as Aidan groaned again, his cock jerking against her.
“Jesus, Mack,” he ground out against her lips, “tease me like that and I’m going to lose it.”
The confession sent shards of squirming tension into the junction of her thighs. She rubbed them together, her clit throbbing in her folds. A simple kiss and she was almost insane with need. A simple kiss. She flicked at his nipples, catching his tongue with her lips and sucking it with ungentle force, giddy with mounting want. And the very moment she thought she would pass out from the sheer pleasure Aidan’s lips and tongue wrought on her senses, another set of hands moved over her body.
“You smell just like I knew you would.” Nick’s deep murmur caressed the side of her throat, his lips journeying up
to her ear as his fingers skimmed up the length of her arms. “Like spring flowers and summer breezes.” He snared her wrists, pressing his body against her back as he moved her hands up Aidan’s chest to link her fingers behind Aidan’s neck.
In the background, the next song on her playlist began, Nick’s husky-smooth voice wafting from the speakers, the lyrics a carnal declaration of lust for a woman called Heartbreak.
McKenzie’s heart slammed faster, her pussy lips growing engorged with fresh blood. At some stage since Aidan had begun his ravishment of her mouth, Nick had removed his clothes. His tall, lean form touched her from shoulder blades to thighs, the soft hair on his chest tickling her back, the soft curls at his groin kissing the cheeks of her arse. McKenzie whimpered. The rigid pole of his cock nudged at the crevice of her backside, parting it with insistent force just as Aidan’s cock—still trapped in his cargo pants—pushed harder at her belly.
Oh God, she thought, squirming against them both, I’m the filling in a manwich.
Nick’s hands smoothed back down her arms and over her shoulders, his lips exploring the sensitive dip below her ear as his fingers brushed the side swell of her breasts. “You feel just like I knew you would, soft and warm and heavenly.” He feathered his fingertips over breasts and down her ribcage, sending a ripple of concentrated pleasure over her flesh. “And so, so fucking sinful.”
The growled proclamation made McKenzie’s pussy contract, her anus squeezing with equal pressure. She tore her lips from Aidan’s, rolling her head until it rested on Nick’s shoulder. “Can I quote you on that?” she asked on a moan.
He chuckled, curling his fingers over her hips and pressing his thick cock harder to her butt. “The face of an angel with filth on her mind…” he sang, his voice husky.
Aidan’s lips curled in a slow, crooked smile as he gazed down into McKenzie’s face. “I’m thinking this song’s on its way to being my all-time favorite.”
Before she could respond, he stepped away from her, his fingers slipping from her hair, his nostrils flaring at her soft cry of protest. “I need to feel your flesh on mine, Mack.” His chest heaved and his hands moved to the waistband of his cargos. “All my flesh.”
“Do you see how much she wants you, Aidan?” Nick’s hands took advantage of Aidan’s absence against her body. They roamed her belly, skimming over the shallow dent of her navel, the angles of her hips. She hitched in a breath as his fingertips brushed over the trimmed curls of her pubic hair, her stare locked on Aidan’s eyes.
“Jesus, Nick,” he groaned, jaw bunching, “I didn’t think I could be this turned on watching someone else touch Mack like that.”
Nick chuckled behind her, his warm breath tickling her ear. “What if I touch her like this?” His fingers dipped lower over her mound, parting her folds to stroke her clit with one slow caress.
Warm tension speared into McKenzie’s core and she let out another whimper.
Aidan’s eyes burned, his stomach muscles coiling. “Oh, yeah.”
Nick’s fingers played over McKenzie’s clit once more. “She’s wet for us already, mate.”
“Good.”
The simple word left Aidan in a low breath, his fingers playing with the button on his waistband and, her pussy squeezing in greedy impatience, McKenzie watched as he released it with a quick flick and then lowered the zipper.
Oh, yes.
Her heart beat harder, faster, against her breastbone, her stare devouring the sight of his distended shaft jutting free of his parting fly. If possible, it was bigger, thicker than before. Its head topped the venous length like a taut, purple dome, tiny beads of precome glistening on its very tip, slicking his flesh.
The need to taste those pearls of Aidan’s pleasure filled McKenzie’s mouth with saliva and she writhed in Nick’s embrace. “Please…” she whispered.
“Tell me what you want to do to him, McKenzie,” Nick murmured in her ear, his lips hot on her skin.
She stared at Aidan where he stood, motionless, but a mere meter away from her. The tattoo over his heart seemed to throb, his broad chest and sculptured stomach highlighting the sheer perfection of his body. He didn’t move, waiting for her, his hands fisted at his side, his cock standing ramrod straight from the thatch of dark blond curls peeking from his open fly.
Nick’s fingers slipped over her clit, dipping in to her sodden heat. “Tell me.”
McKenzie’s head swam. Her breath grew shallow. Rapid. She gazed at Aidan, every fiber in her body aching for him. Needing him. Needing this. “I want to suck his cock.”
Aidan groaned at her hoarse confession, his eyes closing for a brief moment, his rigid shaft jerking against his stomach. “Jesus, Mack.”
“A face of an angel with filth on her mind,” Nick sang, his throaty voice tormenting McKenzie’s nerve endings. He slid his fingers deeper into her sex, his other hand smoothing up her stomach to capture her right breast.
“Please,” McKenzie begged, writhing in his embrace. “Oh, please, Nick, let me…give me…”
Nick wriggled his fingers in her pussy, sending ribbons of exquisite sensations through her very core. “Tell Mack what you want, Aidan.”
Aidan’s nostrils flared and he swallowed, flicking his smoldering green gaze to the rock star’s face. “I want to feel her lips slide over my dick, Nick, while you bury your cock into her.”
At the calm declaration, McKenzie climaxed. Or maybe it was Nick’s seeking fingers, stroking the sweetest spot on her feminine walls over and over again. Or maybe it was both. Whatever it was, she could not control the strangled cry bursting past her lips, nor the shuddering contractions squeezing her sex.
“Oh God.” She bucked into Nick’s penetrations, her own hands moving to his, helping him cup her breast and bury into her dripping cleft. “Oh God, yes.” She felt herself through Nick’s hands, her abrupt orgasm rocking through her, her stare holding Aidan’s.
“Now, Aidan,” she heard Nick pant, a second before Aidan yanked his cargos from his thickly muscled legs and destroyed the distance between them.
He fisted his hands in her hair, hungry desire burning in his eyes. His cock pressed to her hitching stomach, painting her heated flesh with precome. He stared into her face and crushed her mouth with his lips, his kiss neither gentle nor sweet.
It was a declaration: of what, McKenzie didn’t know. Or care. She’d never been kissed with such brutal need. That Nick’s hands worked her pussy and her breast at the same time only heightened the rising tension already rebuilding in her center.
Her head swirled. She was going to come again. How could that be? How could she come again so—
Another orgasm claimed her, just as abruptly, just as violently as the first. Nick pinched her clit as it did so, rolled her nipple between his fingers, torturing her pleasure-torn body with new waves of rapture. And still, Aidan plundered her mouth, his tongue lashing inside, his teeth nipping and biting her bottom lip, drawing moan after moan from her chest.
The two men were relentless. Unstoppable. She bucked and whimpered and pleaded with them to stop, begged them for more.
Just when her legs began to tremble, just when the third orgasm threatened to consume her, just when her pussy seemed to flow with rivers of her cream, Nick released his hold on her and stepped backward.
“No!” she cried out, but the word was muffled in Aidan’s kiss.
Aidan tore his lips from hers. “Climb on the bed, Nick.”
It was Aidan’s turn to growl commands. He stood before McKenzie, his jaw clenched, his right hand slowly pumping up and down his turgid erection.
Nick did as Aidan ordered, and it was all McKenzie could do not to moan at the sight of him moving atop of the king-sized mattress.
Instead, she kept her attention on her best friend, in awe and more than a little apprehensive of this new side of him she’d never seen before. There was nothing jovial or sardonic about Aidan right at that moment: he was a base male, wanting one thing from his woman and doing
exactly what he needed to get it.
His nostrils flared as he pulled a slow breath. “Go and climb onto the bed, Mack. On your knees with your back to him.”
A shiver raced up McKenzie’s spine at the blunt order. Her nipples puckered hard. Her clit throbbed. She moved to the bed, her gaze connecting with Nick’s for a tantalizing second as she climbed onto the mattress’s edge. He studied her, his stunning grey eyes half lidded, his world-famous languid smile nowhere to be seen.
McKenzie swallowed, her pulse quickening. Nick’s cock jutted up from the dense thatch of black curls covering his groin, long and thick and bowed in a slight arc. Like Aidan’s, its tip was anointed with tiny beads of pleasure. Like Aidan’s, each drop made her more aroused.
Movement from the corner of her eye made her turn back to her best friend, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched him retrieve his wallet from his discarded trousers and withdraw a small thin foil square from inside it.
She knew what it was. She knew what it meant.
The world’s most desired singer was going to fuck her very soon.
Her mouth went dry and she rubbed her thighs together, her clit not just throbbing but prickling with fresh need.
“Put this on.” Aidan tossed the condom packet to Nick, his stare never leaving McKenzie’s face.
At the faint sound of foil tearing, she sucked in a ragged breath. This was really happening. She was going to have a threesome with Nick Blackthorne and Aidan Rogers. This was really, really happening.
A low chuckle rumbled behind her and she tore her gaze from Aidan to risk a glance over her shoulder. Nick’s fingers were slowly sliding down his length, sheathing it in a bright red condom. “Should have known a firefighter would go for red.” He smirked, a flash of his famous smile playing with his lips.
McKenzie licked her lips at the sight of his erection straining within the tight red latex. That was going to be inside her. Soon. Oh, so—
Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 2 Page 5