by Zara Chase
“No.” Sonia shook her head emphatically. “Much as I’d like to agree with you, it was actually just survival instincts kicking in. Then, when Sergio managed to tell me he’d seen you and you were coming for me, I laid my plans today. As soon as I heard the chopper land, I launched my Trojan. Ivan tried to set the scam off just as you came in and probably realized what I’d done, but of course, it was too late by then.”
“Who was the target?” Edmunds asked.
Sonia named a famous high street banking chain.
“Couldn’t we knock them off for just a few million anyway, seeing as how you’ve done all the work?” Peyton’s joke lightened the mood. “I mean, they really deserve it, given that they’re partly responsible for the credit crunch.”
“Probably best not to try it,” Edmunds said.
“What happens now?” Sonia asked. “To Sergio and me, I mean.”
Edmunds offered her an avuncular smile. “Well, you’ll need to come with us for a while and be thoroughly debriefed. Then, when it’s safe—”
“But will it ever be safe?” Sonia asked doubtfully. “Ivan will know what I did, and even if you have Asimov in custody, there are others who’ll want revenge.”
“Unfortunately, one of Asimov’s men shot Ivan in the back,” Edmunds said, clearly not thinking it was the slightest bit unfortunate. Peyton had to agree with him on that score. “He didn’t survive.”
Sonia threw her arms round Sergio’s neck, and he swung her off the floor again. “So we’re really free to live our lives without fear?”
“It looks that way.”
“What’s happening down there now?” Peyton asked. “I guess the gala finished rather abruptly.”
“Yes, we managed to get the dirty money as well.” Edmunds smacked his lips together, justifiably pleased with his night’s work. “Asimov rang the casino just as we took him, but we had several guys there. They caught his lackeys red-handed, trying to sneak out the backdoor with bag loads of cash.”
“What about the resort as a whole?” Clyde asked. “It must be chaotic.”
“The guardia are here in force—”
“My point precisely,” Clyde said, grinning.
“Higgins, the English minority shareholder in the place, hated Asimov, as you probably know.” Peyton hoisted a brow. He knew that but wondered how Edmunds had come by the information. “I had a few words with him, and he took charge. He reassured people in a calm way that kept them curious rather than afraid, gave everyone a drink on the house, and sent them home without mass panic breaking out.”
“Tomorrow should be interesting, then,” Peyton said.
“Wouldn’t miss it myself,” Clyde agreed.
It seemed very quiet in the loft when Edmunds left with Sonia and Sergio. Fabia didn’t know if she felt more elated or depressed. Of course, she was glad that Sonia was safe and happy with her handsome Russian. But this also meant she had no reason to remain at Tosca Brava and would have to say good-bye to Peyton and Clyde. She already felt bereft at the prospect.
“What is it, babe?” Peyton asked.
Fabia shook her head. How could she tell them the truth? They’d laugh in her face. These two were free spirits and had women flinging themselves at them everywhere they went. If she hadn’t known it before, she’d seen more than enough proof of it at the gala. They might have said they loved her when they were making out, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just upset that no one will be held to account for my parents’ murder. I thought knowing what really happened would be enough, but it’s not.”
“Asimov won’t see daylight again for years. Perhaps not forever.” Peyton pulled her onto her feet and led her out onto the terrace. Clyde followed them. Fabia dropped onto the swing seat, and Peyton sat beside her, pulling her against him with his uninjured arm. “He might not have carried out the crime, but he ordered it to be done.”
“But what if he gives up the people higher in the food chain in exchange for his freedom?” Fabia frowned. “Isn’t that what Edmunds is hoping for?”
“Yes, he is,” Clyde agreed, joining them on the swing and taking up the position on Fabia’s other side. He pushed with one foot and they swayed gently back and forth “But I very much doubt if he’ll do it. The Russians have fingers in too many pies, both inside and outside of jail, and Asimov knows it. They hate disloyalty, and his life wouldn’t be worth shit if he squealed.”
“Well, I suppose that’s that, then.”
“You’ve torn your lovely dress,” Clyde said, fingering the ruined fabric.
“Not much good to you like that,” Peyton agreed. He reached behind her and pulled the zip down. Between them, they extracted her arms from the garment. Clyde lifted her bodily from the seat and Peyton dragged the dress down her legs.
“That’s better,” they said in unison, glancing with approval at her lacy pink underwear.
“You like?” she asked, flashing a smile at each of them in turn.
“We like,” Clyde agreed.
“Pull your tits out of the top of the cups,” Peyton ordered.
Fabia did as he asked. Both men dropped their heads, each sucking and nipping at a rock-hard nipple. Fabia groaned, reaching out with both hands until they collided with the bulges in the guys’ pants. She found their zippers, yanked them down, and was rewarded with two impressive erections that sprang free. Fabia closed her fingers around them both and pumped.
“We need some toys, do you think?” Clyde asked, briefly raising his head.
“No, it’s late and I’m beat.”
Fabia’s spirits plummeted. She’d never known him turn down sex before, no matter how tired he was. Was he already bored with her?
“Your arm?” she asked, guilty for not thinking of it sooner. “It’s hurting you?”
“I’m fine. Don’t let me stop you and Clyde from having some fun.”
“You won’t, buddy.”
Clyde stood up and shed his clothes. Resuming his seat, he guided Fabia’s head to his throbbing cock. “Suck it, baby,” he said in a thick voice.
Fabia bent to do as he’d asked, taking Clyde’s dick as far into her mouth as she could, at the same time massaging his balls from beneath. Peyton would be left with a clear view of the crack in her ass as she leaned over. Fabia was relieved when he slid his hand inside her panties and circled her anus with one finger. The rest of his long fingers worked their way beneath her and touched her cunt. It was soaked through.
“I thought you were tired,” Fabia said, Clyde’s dick slipping from her mouth with a slick popping sound when she spoke.
“I got my second wind.”
“Glad to hear it.” Fabia resumed working on Clyde.
“You look so damned sexy with your tits hanging out of your bra, sucking Clyde’s cock like that,” Peyton said softly, sliding his little finger into her butt and his index finger into her cunt. “Now you’ve got my fingers inside you, too.” Peyton dropped a line of soft kisses across her buttocks. “You want us both, don’t you, sugar? You can’t get enough of our pricks.”
Fabia couldn’t speak with her mouth full, but she nodded vigorously. Both men laughed.
“Well, we can’t disappoint a lady, can we now,” Peyton said with a throaty chuckle.
“Christ, Fabia, that’s it, baby, suck it real deep. You’re gonna make me cream the back of your throat if you carry on like that.” Clyde thrust himself deeper into her mouth. “Make me come, darling. Can’t you feel my dick getting bigger between your sweet lips? Do it for me. I’m gonna come.”
Clyde bucked into her mouth. Peyton increased the pressure of his fingers inside her as she struggled to swallow Clyde’s endless stream of cum. When he finally stilled, she bent closer and kissed Clyde full on the lips. Then she reversed position and fell back in Peyton’s lap.
* * * *
“Someone feeling left out?” The little witch grinned up at him, her smile so goddamned sexy, her nipples screa
ming at him for attention.
“I’m injured, babe, so you’ll have to treat me gently.”
“What does my lord and master require of his humble slave?”
“Lose the thong, darling.”
Fabia stood up and stepped out of her panties. The she lowered her eyes and waited for Peyton’s next instruction, causing him to realize just what a bad idea this actually was. He should have stuck to his guns and pretended to be too tired. He desperately wanted to fuck their little sub. No, actually, he didn’t. He wanted to make love to her. Peyton never thought about lurve as a general rule, and the fact that he was now doing so ought to scare him rigid.
It didn’t. With Fabia in his life, none of the usual rules seemed to apply. He was in love with her, and it felt pretty damned good. So, too, was Clyde. He recognized in his buddy the signs that he saw in himself. They needed to talk about this.
But the way things were, there might be nothing to talk about, because Fabia was holding out on them. She had something on her mind that she wasn’t sharing. Perhaps she’d already detached herself from them mentally now that she’d found her sister and had no further need for their help. Presumably, she’d be thinking about returning to London, where she held down a well-paid job she enjoyed. The prospect of losing her turned Peyton’s heart into a cold lump of ice that weighed heavily in his chest. That absolutely wasn’t going to happen, not if she felt the same way about them as they did about her.
“Come here.”
She straddled Peyton and took his cock deep inside her. Clyde spanked her rear as she rode him, her unfettered tits bouncing against his mouth as she moved energetically up and down. She did all the work because Peyton sat stock-still and let her, dying a little more inside each time he thought about losing her.
Chapter Fifteen
“Thanks.”
Fabia accepted the coffee that Clyde placed in front of her the following morning, at a loss to know where she stood with the guys. Peyton’s lovemaking the previous night had been perfunctory, lacking his usual finesse, and was over quickly. Perhaps she was being unfair. After all, he was injured. Even so, her relationship with them had undergone a marked change in the last twenty-four hours.
And not for the better.
They’d kissed her good night at the door to the spare room and neither of them had joined her, either last night or for a wake-up call this morning. Okay, she’d got the message and wouldn’t cling.
“I might as well move back to the staff block this morning.”
Peyton looked up from the paper he was reading. “Why? Don’t you like it here?”
“I’m cramping your style.”
He didn’t deny it. “Stay for a while, until we figure out what’s happening with the resort.”
“I’ll get in your way.”
“No, you won’t. Besides, it’s a damned sight more comfortable here,” Clyde pointed out.
“There’s a meeting this morning to discuss the situation here,” Peyton said. “Higgins called a while ago and told me about it. Field, Anton, and the marina manager have all resigned.”
Fabia’s head snapped up. “Anton’s gone?”
“All three had to go,” Clyde said. “They were on the take. I guess they were told that if they resigned quietly, no further action would be taken against them. The resort’s in enough trouble after what came to light yesterday.”
“I’d better cover Anton’s work until they appoint someone else, then. I guess another week or two won’t make much difference.”
Peyton nodded. “That’s what I was going to suggest.”
She noticed Peyton share a significant glance with Clyde and wondered what that was all about. By holding the fort at the tennis centre it meant staying for a bit longer, but so what? She’d keep a low profile and try not to show jealousy if they brought other women back to the playroom. She couldn’t let the resort down. Besides, if they felt awkward about her staying, they wouldn’t have suggested it. Just so long as they didn’t expect her to join in their games with other women.
Hell, what was going on here? She felt moody and irascible and downed her coffee so quickly that it burned her throat.
“I’d best be getting off, then.”
Both guys stood to kiss her good-bye. They were being kind, letting her down gently, and she couldn’t stand it.
“Let me know how the meeting goes?” she asked over her shoulder.
The next few days were crazy busy for Fabia. Not only was she dealing with all the coaching single-handedly, but her junior-coaching scheme was oversubscribed and proving to be a huge success. She got back to the loft each night and fell into bed, exhausted but fraught with frustration, unable to sleep because the guys didn’t lay a finger on her. She told herself they were being thoughtful. They knew how hard she was working, and as far as she could tell, they weren’t seeing anyone else. But there had to be more to it than that.
They’d told her that an American consortium was already sniffing round the place. The same ones who’d been in communication with Asimov were still interested in buying out the Russian’s majority share. That share had been seized by the government, who were anxious to off load it as fast as possible in return for much-needed cash.
Hastings was temporarily running the place and making a damned sight better job of it than Field had managed. People liked him and responded well to his management style. Even so, there was an air of trepidation about the place. Jobs were hard to come by in the current climate, and since change was in the air, no one knew quite how secure they were.
Hastings had promised an assistant to help her at the tennis centre, which she thought was odd. She was the assistant. What they needed was a new manager, but so far no adverts had been placed as far as she knew.
On a brighter note, she’d heard from Sonia. She and Sergio were going back to London to get married. Fabia’s heart sang for them, and she promised to be there for the wedding. At least one of the sisters was happy.
A week after the catastrophic events on the gala night, Fabia arrived back at the loft, tired and at the end of her tether. Both guys were there when she got in, which was just as well. She could tell them what she had on her mind without having to repeat herself. She took a quick shower, changed into a flimsy sundress, choosing comfort over glamour. She took a deep breath and joined them on the terrace. Clyde handed her a glass of wine.
“Thanks.”
She sipped at her drink, delaying the moment, enjoying the tranquillity of Clyde’s lovely garden for possibly the last time. She listened to the noisy melody created by the cicadas and breathed in the fragrant perfume of the jasmine she so loved. No one spoke, but she became aware of both guys frequently glancing at her and of the heavy weight of expectancy that hung in the air between them.
“I’ll give Hastings until the end of the summer holidays,” she said.
“Pardon?” Peyton’s head shot up. “What do you mean?”
“Precisely what I say. I’m surplus to requirements here.” She wasn’t referring to the tennis centre and suspected that they knew it. “I have a life in London to get back to.”
Peyton stood up and towered over her. “Is that what you really want? To go back to that rat race?”
She shrugged, unable to get any words past the lump in her throat. Peyton sent Clyde a considering look. When he nodded, Peyton extended a hand, grabbed Fabia’s, and pulled her to her feet.
“Come with us.”
She had to scurry to keep pace with them as Peyton virtually dragged her along by the wrist. Her heart soared when he stopped at the door to the playroom. At last! Whatever she’d said, it appeared to have got through the veneer of polite neutrality he’d projected since the night of the gala. Clyde opened the door, and Peyton propelled her inside. Finally, he dropped her wrist.
“Take your clothes off.”
She wanted to tell him to go to hell. He’d ignored her for an entire week and now seemed to think he could order her around. One glance
at the set to his features, at the glimmer of desire she thought she detected swirling in the depths of his magnetic eyes, and she capitulated. Besides, there was something about the authority in his rasping midnight voice that sapped her will, replacing it with an overwhelming desire to please him.
Fabia lowered her eyes and removed her dress. Then she took off her bra and panties, too. She removed the clip from her hair, shook it loose, and then stood before them both, hands demurely clasped over her pussy. She could see that they were both rock hard, but neither of them had taken anything off or made any move to touch her.
“We have a gift for you.”
“What is it?” Peyton quirked a brow and said nothing. “What is it, Master?”
“Turn round.”
She did so and gasped. Was that what she thought it was? It had to be. She’d heard about them but had never tried one.
“A St. Andrew’s Cross,” she said in a breathless whisper.
“Correct,” Clyde said. “We can bind you to it with your face against the structure, the better to whip your sweet ass.”
Fabia swallowed. That sounded just fine to her.
“Stand against it with your back toward it.”
Peyton’s commanding tone caused her to react all the way to her pussy. She could feel liquid leaking from it and didn’t even consider disobeying, despite the shameful way in which they’d neglected her needs for the past week. The two guys bound her to the cross by her wrists, feet, and waist. The used smooth rope that wouldn’t chaff and then, must to her disappointment, moved away. They sat on a sofa a few feet in front of her, not close enough to touch her, even with a cane.
“Who am I, Fabia?” Peyton asked in a soft, lilting voice that echoed inside her head, reaching places that an ordinary sound couldn’t plummet. “And what am I to you?”
“You’re my Master,” she said without hesitation. “And I will do whatever you ask of me.”
“Am I your only Master?”
“No. I also obey Master Clyde.”
She felt dizzy and had no control over the words that spilled from her mouth. Was this an out-of-body experience? It certainly felt like one. It was as though her mind was no longer her own, even though her sense of purpose had never been stronger. She desperately wanted to please these two, no longer caring what their motives were. It was as though she’d been put on this earth solely to do their bidding and needed to assure them of that. Nothing was more important to her, but she couldn’t do it, because she mustn’t speak unless they asked her a question. No one had told her that. She simply knew that’s the way things were. She was their submissive, and subs didn’t think or act of their own volition.