Three Men and a Woman: Indiana (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rachel Billings

  Indy let it happen, giving herself over to it, letting him have his way with her. Her breath crooned out, catching sometimes on a sharp spike of stimulation. After long moments of it, he drew his finger almost all the way out of her.

  Watching her eyes, he let her know what he was doing. He moved his index finger alongside the one that held its place just inside her. Then, slowly, he pushed them both in.

  He didn’t have small fingers. She was sure nothing about him was small, though, so she knew she’d eventually accommodate more than this. She moaned as he breached her, again as he pushed in deep. And again, when he started to fuck her with quick strokes.

  Arching back even farther, Indy gave herself up. He slid in and out, his fingers skilled and facile. With his thumb, he started brushing against her clit.

  She looked into his eyes and saw his intent. He was going to make her come, while she stood over him, while he did nothing but diddle her with her fingers.

  “Oh,” she moaned, rolling her head back. “Oh. Mmm. Sig.”

  “Lean forward,” he told her. “Put your hands on the couch. Or on me. You’re going to need some support.”

  He was right. He was driving her up, and her legs were losing strength, like they wanted to collapse, all her energy arrowing into those places he touched. She rested one hand on the back of the couch and let her head loll onto her shoulder there. Her other hand fell, seeking support, brushing over his shoulder and then settling on the armrest.

  “That’s good, baby,” he said. “Now I can do this.”

  He was still working her, clit and pussy. But he reached with his other hand and grasped one nipple. He had it between his fingers and slowly, with rough friction, drew his thumb over it. He took his thumb back, scraping the nail over her as he went. Watching as she shuddered, he went to her other nipple and did it all again.

  “Sig,” she moaned.

  “Come,” he told her. “Come, ålskling. Min kӓrlek.”

  Darling, he was calling her. My love.

  She couldn’t hold back. Shaking with it, nearly collapsing onto him, she shuddered into orgasm. He didn’t let her off easy. “Mer,” he said. “More. Keep going.”

  He pushed harder into her, scissoring his fingers as he fucked her with them. He worked her nipple and her clit, keeping her riding high until finally she wailed out the last of it, falling down onto his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he murmured into her hair, pressing kisses there. “Good girl. Bra flicka.”

  Her legs finally giving out, she went to her knees beside him. He held her and kissed her as she slowly evened her breath. When she had the strength, she lifted her head to look at him.

  “Nice,” he said, stroking her hair back from her face. His eyes glimmered when he went on. “Now, open my jeans, gumman.”

  She knew he was calling her an old lady, but she trusted it was a term of endearment. That was what her grandfather had always claimed, anyway.

  Indy pushed back farther, liking the light in Sigge’s eyes when she drew her hands down his body—from his shoulders, over those outstanding pecs, brushing her thumbs over his flat, coppery nipples, and along the furrows of his abs. She went farther, placing both her hands over the bulge of his fly, and he murmured out his encouragement.

  She teased him with it for a minute, relishing his quiet groan, and then moved her fingers to the opening at his waist. She worked her way slowly down every one of the five buttons, paying attention only to them and letting his cock spring free however it wanted. He was naked underneath.

  When she was done, his fly was open and his cock thrust up, reaching beyond the top of his jeans. She just let him pulse there, looking from his cock up to his eyes and back.

  He groaned desperately. “Touch me. Indy, please. Let me inside you.”

  She dropped her head and slid her cheek along the length of him, but she knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. So she came up and snugged her fingers into his jeans at either side. He lifted and let her work them down a bit. His balls were smooth and drawn up tight.

  “Back pocket,” he said, like he could barely manage the two words. “Condom,” he finished on another rough breath.

  Indy wriggled her fingers under him, stealing a little feel of the firm mounds of his ass, and then found the pocket with a condom. She pulled it out and opened it, noting that it was a magnum.

  No brag, just fact.

  Sigge breathed roughly and caressed his hands down her arms, her sides, her breasts, and every bit of her skin he could reach as she covered him. When she was done, he had her by the forearms and braced her as she climbed back over him. Spread across him on her knees, she lowered her hips until she settled right along the length of his cock.

  His hands trembled when he reached up to cup her neck and one shoulder. His gaze was hot. “Come here, Indiana.”

  He brought her down and lifted again to meet her mouth. He kissed her gently and then settled back, keeping his grip on her and his gaze, too. “Take me inside you.”

  Hands propped above his shoulders, Indy held herself over him. They watched each other as she slowly slid her pelvis up, a wet glide of her pussy along the hard stretch of his cock. They both moaned when she reached the end, when the coiled tension of his erection sprang free and nestled itself at her opening.

  They held there, breathing roughly, watching each other. Sig slid his hands over her, along her shoulders, down her flanks, and then to her ass to grip. Holding tightly, he pressed her down at the same time he flexed his hips.

  “Oh.” Indy bit her lip, reveling in the wicked stretch of it, savoring the erotic incursion as he impaled her. “Oh.”

  He kept pressing her down until she was splayed over him, entirely open to him, completely filled with him. He was so big that her breath skittered with that last bit of distention. For a moment she was unsure if it was possible. But his eyes were direct, compelling, and…trustworthy. With a shiver, she gave over.

  “Ja,” he said. “God.” Good, he meant. In Swedish.

  He kept his grip on her as he flexed, fucking up into her. He moaned, his muscled arms sliding up and down her body to keep her close. “Your mouth,” he said. “Give it to me.”

  She let herself drop lower, her arms angled over the width of his shoulders, her breasts against his chest, fingers tangled again in his braids. He lifted his head to meet her for a kiss and kept hold of her with teeth and suction, taking her down with him. Moaning into her mouth, he held her tightly as he fucked her.

  After long, sweet minutes of it, neither could catch enough breath through their kisses. On a rough groan, Sigge let her mouth go. He arched up, lifting her, pounding hard into her.

  “Sigge.”

  “God, baby. Good.”

  His hands slid roughly over her, finding a nipple and squeezing, tugging, then gripping her ass. He slipped his hands under her thighs and lifted her, splaying her out, holding her helpless as he fucked.

  Indy whimpered, his huge, hard thrusts stretching her, exquisitely stimulating. She tried lifting herself, tried taking some control, but she was too much overpowered. She collapsed, her face onto his chest, her cheek against the hard pounding of his heart, his rough breaths audible in her ears.

  She let him have at it. There was nothing she could do, anyway, and nothing but pleasure in it for her after all. She gripped him, fingers strongly curled in his hair, and his head raised up, his breath hot against her temple.

  Her wits barely about her, Indy was only vaguely aware that he was holding back, that he fought the burning need to come, that he was waiting for her. His urgency rose and she heard him, Swedish words that were surely curses.

  She couldn’t have held back if she wanted to, couldn’t have withheld from him what he demanded. He pounded into her, deep, long, rough strokes, each one a total taking. Feeling rent, all but torn apart, she went over.

  Her breaths came out in screams, so she was barely aware of his wild groans. But she felt him, those hard, muscled spasms of hi
s body, the strong, shuddering thrust of his cock, as they came together. It was devastating, brutal in its intensity, a loud, prolonged, wild orgasm.

  Shared.

  They shuddered together to the end of it, his arms finally giving out and letting her down onto him, his breath sawing in and out just as hers was and slowly fading into weary moans. Her pussy was oversensitized, and her weak oh began to sound more like ow. With a little welcome help from his arms, she lifted up enough to slide away from him. She settled back along his side, away from his injured knee again. He put a big hand at her head and tucked her into his shoulder. She felt his lips in her hair.

  “That was pretty good, Indy. Ja?” His voice was dry, humored.

  “Ja,” she answered. “Pretty good.”

  She turned her head up enough to meet his gaze, and they shared a smile.

  “I’m going to want to do that again.”

  Her smile wobbled. “Right now?”

  He laughed. “Nah, I’m thinking. You might need a rest, ja?”

  Some part of her might, she thought. She was both relieved and charmed by his humor.

  “Rest here,” he said, tucking the throw back around her with moderate effectiveness. He soothed her, his hands stroking over her hair, down her arms, and then wrapping around her back. “I’d carry you to bed if I could.”

  “Here’s good,” Indy said.

  They were quiet, content for long moments.

  “I have to leave early in the morning. Leave Vail, I mean,” he clarified. “Tyler and I have work tomorrow—a PR event at a children’s hospital in Denver, and then a fundraiser in the evening. It’s a gala kind of deal, dressy.” He took a quiet breath, and Indy knew what was coming. An invitation to a situation that would be nothing but awkward. “You could come with me.”

  Yeah—with him and Tyler. Indy didn’t think so. She shook her head against his chest, and he seemed to understand.

  “Nah. Too soon, huh? I’ll see you when I get back though, ja? Friday.”

  “Ja.”

  * * * *

  Indy woke alone, still on the couch. Sigge had kissed her as he’d slipped from under her sometime late at night. He kissed her again when he tucked another blanket around her and told her good-bye. He reminded her he’d see her on Friday.

  She was too lazy, too comfortable to move, and so she spent the rest of the night right where she was. When she woke for the day, she took another long soak, soothing herself in the hot tub. She determined to not think too much about how this was the second day in a row her well-used body needed easing. Or how the need was owed to two different men.

  It had happened as it had happened.

  She didn’t regret the night she spent with Tyler…not exactly, anyway. She was a single woman with no commitments…at least not as of two nights ago. He’d been there. He’d shown up at her door, and she’d had no reason to say no. Her time with him had been incredibly hot, and, honestly, she was grateful for it. He’d made her feel fully like a woman, attractive and sexual, in a way she hadn’t for a long time.

  Almost certainly, it was different with Sigge, even if the only commitment he’d made was a plan to see her again in two days. Though she reminded herself not to presume too much, she was pretty sure she meant more to Sigge than a night or two of hot sex.

  She would not presume. She didn’t even want to hope. But she thought there would be more.

  Trying to focus on normalcy, she went about her day. Without thinking too much, she decided to spend it at the cabin again. She did a morning yoga workout and then sat down at her desk to write. She smiled when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number and knew the smile was in her voice when she answered. And just that fast, she had to admit to herself why she’d decided against going into town. That third, hot NFL player was still lurking.

  “Hello, Indiana. It’s J.J.”

  “Oh. Hi, J.J.”

  “I’m not sure you’re saying that like it’s a good thing.”

  She wasn’t. “Sorry. Just distracted. I was writing.” He didn’t have to know otherwise. One part of it was true.

  “Ah. Well, I’d like to take you away from all that. My boys have left me alone for the day. I’ve got lift tickets. Want to go skiing with me?”

  “Oh—no. I mean, I can’t, J.J. I’ve got a couple conference calls set for today. I can’t miss them. Sorry.” Some of that was true. She’d set the calls with her editor and, later, with her writing group. She couldn’t miss them, though rescheduling wasn’t out of the question.

  Maybe the “sorry” thing was a lie. All she needed in her life was to be seduced by one more overly virile male.

  “You sure? It’s a perfect day for it. Fresh snow, clear sky, and warming up a bit.”

  “Tempting,” Indy said, and that really was true. It was a bit of an embarrassment for her—living in Vail and so seldom giving herself a day to take advantage of it. “But really, I can’t.”

  “Okay, then. No worries. I figured you’d have…work.”

  An excuse, she took him to mean.

  “I do. I’m sorry.” She didn’t care all that much if he didn’t find her excuse believable.

  “Yeah…like I said. I’ll see you later.”

  * * * *

  J.J. decided the mountains were cool and…a little nervous-making. He’d grown up on a farm and was no stranger to the night sky and open, silent plains. But the mountains and the trees closed in on him here, and sounds came from the forest that seemed to belong to large, four-legged creatures. He would have no idea whether those creatures sported hooves and the blunt teeth of placid ruminants or the sharp claws and fangs of, say, a hungry wolf or mountain cat.

  But he was waiting for a woman—the woman—and so he had to man up.

  He wasn’t the least surprised that she’d ducked him earlier, or that her cabin was dark and quiet when he’d driven up after spending the day alone on his skis. He happened to know she’d hit the sack with both of his best friends in a matter of twenty-four hours. Even the sleaziest of women might balk at a third night of wild sex with yet another guy, and he didn’t think Indy was sleazy at all.

  Well, that wasn’t all true. For a fact, he’d known plenty of women—serious football fans—who’d been more than happy for another notch on their NFL pros belt, no matter how they’d spent the previous two nights.

  Plus, he didn’t actually know she’d banged Sig. The dude was too much a gentleman to talk even in a casual-sex deal, and J.J. didn’t think his buddy was casual about Ms. Indiana Jones at all.

  Now, the wild sex part could be entirely true, given a chance. Though he didn’t think he would be.

  J.J. wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing outside a dark cabin in a slightly scary forest. But he was a take-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of guy. Sigge and Tyler were tiptoeing around the issue. J.J. figured they’d drive all the way to Denver, spend the day together and the evening, too, and never talk about the elephant in the room. Sigge was the quiet, Nordic type anyway, and Ty was…

  Well, J.J. was pretty sure Ty was more mixed up with and about this woman than he knew how to handle.

  For the sake of their friendship, someone was going to have to straighten the whole deal out. And J.J. knew who that someone would be.

  Plus, if he was going with full disclosure, he had his own hard-on for the girl. That didn’t make things easier, but it didn’t exactly make it tougher either. Not if he had his way about it.

  He’d let her off the hook earlier, when he’d called to invite her to ski. But he wouldn’t let her duck him tonight, so he was willing to face lions and tigers and…damn. He hadn’t even thought about bears.

  It had been a great day, sunny and warming to the upper forties, but it was chilling down now, and he was in dress clothes. So he paced a bit, outside her cabin, trying not to think too much about the snow seeping into his wing-tip boots. Or things with claws.

  He figured she’d show up eventually, and she did.

  She was on snows
hoes, coming out of the woods almost silently. He was watching the edge of the forest pretty carefully, so he didn’t jump or anything. She didn’t either. He could almost think she was expecting him.

  She paused for a second, though, and then came forward, using ski poles and looking surprisingly graceful on the awkward apparatus. Even from across the clearing, he could see she was breathing hard. She’d been working out.

  “J.J.,” she said. She didn’t entirely hide her emotions as she said his name—leeriness, inevitability, reluctant acceptance.

  “Indiana,” he said back and waited until she came closer.

  She stopped before she got within reach. No doubt overheated, she unzipped her jacket to cool, removed her wool cap, and shook out that gorgeous hair. Her breath was easing. “Uh—do you want to come in? You look…dressed for something.”

  He did. And he was. “Yeah,” he said, to both. “Do you own something besides mountain-girl clothes? I’m taking you to dinner.”

  She’d started working on her bindings, but she stopped to look up at him. “I’m not really…interested.”

  “Yeah, well, I am. Interested…in talking.”

  She straightened and kept her face tilted up to his, not much of a reach. He liked her height. He liked a lot about her. “Talking.”

  He didn’t blame her for sounding skeptical. She’d no doubt noticed the way his gaze had wandered down that long, fit body of hers. He lifted his hands, wrapped in Italian leather and rabbit fur, knowing he had a poor shot at looking innocent. “On my mama’s Bible, I swear. You’re safe in my hands tonight.”

  She didn’t exactly hide her reluctant sigh. “Come in.” She motioned. He followed her through a kind of snow room, stomping the white stuff off his feet and hoping he’d start feeling his toes again soon. She went up some back stairs to her kitchen with him on her six.

  “Are you sure you want to go out? We could eat here. I have some leftover quiche.”