“More,” Rand groans. My hand starts stroking the muscles of his back, my other hand coming up to rest on his butt.
“Give him more,” I tell Logan softly.
Logan’s face is pinched with pleasure, his lower lip between his teeth and digging in hard. He does as I ask and pushes his hips forward even more, sinking inch by inch into Rand. When the trimmed hairs on his pelvis brush against Rand’s ass, and I know he’s rooted deep, I let my breath out in a wavering gust of longing and excitement.
Rand’s head is still hanging low, eyes closed and jaw locked as Logan starts to move. Luxurious pulls of his cock out, with penetratingly slow thrusts back in.
Each time he bottoms out, Rand grunts in pleasure.
Each time Rand grunts in pleasure, an ache throbs between my legs.
Logan picks up the pace, which lends to an almost fevered vibe in the air. Sweat on his forehead, chest heaving and his hands gripping Rand by the hips with this thumbs digging down into the muscle, he mutters an almost endless stream of filth to Rand, “Christ… this feels good. You know I love pussy, man, but this ass… never mind fucking it. Going to come so hard… going to pound you harder. Then when we’re all recovered, we’re going to fill Cat up. I’ll take her pussy… you can have her ass, Rand. Sandwich her right between us and fuck her oh so good.”
My gaze slides to Logan, mesmerized by his dirty words. Completely turned on by them as well. He smiles at me as he pumps in and out of Rand, and then nods his head downward with a pointed look that I should take a gander. “Your boy likes dirty talk.”
Tilting my head, lowering my eyes, I see Rand with his back rounded, head hanging down and his own hand between his legs, working his cock. Stroking with a tight grip. Quick, furious pumping while he grunts and groans.
He’s rock hard again.
He’s. Hard. Again.
“Stop,” I blurt out, my hand on Rand’s ass moving to Logan’s chest. He doesn’t stop his movements immediately, but slows them down, finally pulling out and then pressing back in deep where he holds still. Both men, with heaving chests, look at me curiously and with a little frustration.
“I want you inside of me,” I say as my gaze snaps to Rand’s. “Want you to come inside of me.”
Total silence. Rand’s face strained with the need to come. Logan’s not looking much different.
“While he’s fucking you,” I add on to clarify my wishes.
“Figured that much, Cat,” Rand says with his lips tipped upward. While still looking at me but clearly talking to Logan, he says, “Pull out, man.”
Logan does as requested, both he and Rand not able to hold back a wistful moan at the friction caused from the exit, and then Rand pushes off the bed coming just to his knees. “You want on your back or knees, Cat?”
“Whatever’s best,” I breathe out, my heart racing and my skin flushed warm with the thought of what we’re about to do.
“On your back,” he says in a low voice as he reaches out to graze his knuckles over one of my nipples. “So I can watch your face.”
And I melt again, immediately sagging to the bed and positioning myself on my back. Rand maneuvers, comes in between my legs, and lowers himself onto me so he can give me a kiss. His chest presses onto mine, his dick hard and pulsing as it bears down against my pubic mound and his arms slipping under me so he puts me in a full-body hug as his tongue slides into my mouth.
Pure bliss.
My arms go over his shoulders, wrapping around the back of his neck, and I hold him tight to me as we make out, the only movement of our bodies being our tongues and lips.
Finally, he breaks contact, lifting his face from mine and giving me a smile bright with repletion. Eyes holding mine, he pushes off me, grabbing my legs and spreading me wide. Hands to the backs of my thighs, he swivels his hips and as if his dick knows exactly where to go, it pushes into me.
Sinking in like it belongs, every nerve ending firing in welcome relief that he’s there. “That’s it,” he whispers as he claims my pussy. “Taking every inch of me and loving it.”
“Yes,” I whisper back, my eyes rolling into the back of my head and lids lowering to full darkness. If I watch Rand and see the same expressions I saw on his face when he was fucking Logan’s mouth, I know I’m going to burst apart so violently, I’m afraid I won’t be put back together.
Rand starts moving, an animalistic sound of need and urgency rising from his chest. He thrusts in and out of me a few times, and my head starts to spin. I become lost to the sensation of him.
But then he stops, and my eyes open slowly. He spreads his legs, thighs on the mattress, and I watch over his shoulder as Logan crawls in between Rand’s legs. Using his hand, he guides the head of his cock to Rand’s ass, and with nothing more than a lowering of his entire lower body, he fills him up again.
Rand hisses as he’s pushed deeper into me, sandwiched in between Logan and me. His elbows go to the mattress, his muscles bulging and straining to keep most of his weight off me. We’re all still for just a moment, but then I can feel the outsides of Rand’s thigh muscles flex as he raises his hips, pulling out of me.
Just to the tip where he holds still, allowing Logan to pull out of his ass a bit.
Logan pauses… a brief moment in time where I wonder what’s going to happen next, before I scream out in pleasure when Logan slams into Rand, who then slams into me. Rand lets out a hoarse bark of surprise, and Logan groans as if he’s dying of pleasure.
“Oh, let’s do that again,” I murmur, trying to unclench my toes that had just previously been curled.
Logan gives a dark laugh, and Rand’s eyes glitter as he stares down at me with equal measures of naked desire and fulfilment.
The tilt of his head. The soft smile. The intent stare.
Fulfilment that he’s given me what I wanted.
And I melt again.
Then Logan starts fucking Rand, who starts fucking me again, and I come so hard, I feel obliterated. I have no doubt I can put myself back together again, but I’m just wondering what a reassembled Catherine Lyons will look like compared to the old one.
Chapter 17
Rand
“Are you excited about starting work today?” I ask Cat as she leans in toward my small bathroom mirror and puts on mascara.
She gives a soft, “Uh-huh” as she feathers the black goo onto her eyelashes.
I’m fascinated by everything she does to make herself up. Not to make herself more beautiful, because I don’t think the makeup and perfect hair does that. It just makes her beautiful in a different way. She could wear nothing on her face, as I’ve seen her do at night before she goes to bed, and still be just as lovely.
But I watch because she lets me and because I could watch her for hours doing nothing. Pish was already pissed at me for ditching work last Friday, as well as missing Monday and Tuesday of this week. But I pointed out to him that I never take vacation—which is true because there’s nowhere I want to be—and that shut him up. I also told him I was taking Wednesday too.
Which I did and enjoyed thoroughly. That was the day after the spectacular fuck-fest that occurred between Cat, Logan, and me. Whereas I thought the three of us would go all night, turns out we all fell into an exhausted heap because of the massive orgasms that ripped through our little group. I think I dozed with my head on Cat’s chest and her playing with my hair. When I woke up, Cat was sound asleep and Logan was gone. I noted the way Cat was curled into me and I was spooned around her, and I figure if Logan saw that, he was being the good guy and jetted out of there so we could be alone.
So yesterday… Cat and I did nothing but relax and recover from the events of the last few days. She wasn’t going to start with Callie and Sloane until the next day as Callie was having a bunch of shit moved from a warehouse over to the campaign headquarters for them to organize.
Cat and I hung at the apartment all day, wore sweatpants, ordered Chinese takeout, and binged on Netflix. The only sign of en
ergy either of us exhibited was while we were watching Jessica Jones. I was sitting on the couch, my legs propped on the coffee table. Cat was lying on her side, her head on my thigh.
Just as Jessica and Cage were getting it on for the first time, Cat shifted, rolled, and came up on her knees beside me. With her face still turned toward the TV screen and watching Cage take Jessica up against the wall, she palmed my crotch with her hand and started rubbing.
My breath froze and I held still.
Deliriously happy she initiated not only because my cock was about to feel really good, but also because Cat was embracing her sexuality in a natural manner. She was doing something she wanted to do with no one prodding her or expecting anything.
So she blew me right there while I watched Jessica Jones. Well, fuck… couldn’t watch it. Couldn’t concentrate on anything but her wet mouth on me, so we had to rewind.
“What’s the smile for?” Cat asks.
I blink away the memory, coming back to focus on her watching me in the bathroom mirror as I lean against the doorjamb. Not sure why I’m still loitering because I could have left for work already, but like I said… very much enjoying the view.
“Just thinking about that blow job you gave me yesterday on the couch,” I tell her truthfully.
She beams back at me in the mirror as she puts the cap back on her mascara. “It was really good, wasn’t it?”
“Best ever,” I murmur, and I think it was. But then again, each encounter with this woman just keeps getting better and better.
She turns, placing the mascara in a black, quilted bag laying on my cramped vanity. Resting her butt against the counter ledge, she places her palms to either side and says, “Listen… I want to reach out to Kevin and demand a copy of the signed will he says supposedly exists.”
“I thought we were going to wait for Bridger—”
“I’m tired of waiting, Rand,” she interrupts. “I’m sorry… but this is my life and I want to get this settled so I can move on.”
“Move on from here?” I ask her quietly, my throat aching just pushing those words out.
She gives a quick shake of her head. “No. Not from here, here… I mean like move on from Samuel, his family, and everything that was my life.”
I instantly inflate with relief and wonder if subconsciously I hadn’t been pushing the will aside because I was afraid she would leave after it was worked out. But I can’t keep her here against her wishes to move on, whether it be from my apartment or from a bad life, and I swore to myself that I’d help her out as best I could.
“Let me call Bridger really quick and see if he’s got anything to offer before you call, okay?” I ask her as I pull my phone out of my pocket.
She nods and I dial Bridger’s cell, putting it on speakerphone so Cat can hear when he answers, “What’s up?”
“Just checking in to see if you got to look over the copy of that trust agreement I brought you?”
“Sorry man,” he says with true apology in his voice. “I’ve had a bit of an issue going on at The Silo and just haven’t been able to get to it.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, completely feeling a bit guilty I haven’t been there in so long. Bridger hasn’t said a word, and I wasn’t poking the bear on that.
He sighs into the phone. “I don’t even know if issue is the right word or not, but I accepted a new patron into the club upon a recommendation of a few of our more established members. In fact, he bought himself a platinum membership, as well as memberships for his harem… four of them in all.”
My head snaps over to Cat, and she has the same raised eyebrow look that I do.
“Did you say harem?” I ask with a laugh.
“I don’t know what the fuck you call it, but the man has four women he brings in with him, and they all sort of… belong to him, I guess. It’s fucking weird, but hey… you know our motto… no judgment.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“He’s got this girl… woman, really, but young. Twenty years old and supposedly a virgin. Won’t let anyone fuck her. They can do other things do her, but not fuck her. Rumor is going around he’s going to auction off her virginity and everyone’s in an uproar, wanting it for themselves. I’ve been at The Silo every night just making sure I keep an eye on things. But seriously, reviewing that document just slipped my mind.”
“It’s cool,” I tell him, but inside, I wish he’d have some better advice.
“Listen,” Bridger says, his voice coming through the speakerphone in that slightly tinny way, “mind if I give it to Jenna to look at? She’s good and it will be a professional eye on it.”
Jenna’s a former college classmate of Woolf and Bridger’s who went on to law school, and she’s also Bridger’s attorney for the business. She plays at The Silo too—quite well I know from personal experience—and if Bridger trusts her to review it, then so do I.
I look at Cat and give a nod, telling Bridger, “Yeah, that’s fine. Cat’s going to go ahead and reach out to Kevin to ask for a signed copy of the will that supposedly cuts her out.”
“Sure that’s a good play?” Bridger asks.
“I have to,” Cat pipes up, and I give her a smile. “I need to move this forward.”
“Hi Cat,” Bridger says, his voice softening. He always had a soft spot for her and I wonder if he’s fucked her. I’ve never seen him do so and he rarely participates at The Silo. But still, plenty of times Cat and Bridger were there and I wasn’t, so it’s conceivable.
“Hi, Bridger,” she says back, smiling at me. “And thank you for helping.”
“My pleasure, darling. Now I’ve got to get to work.”
We disconnect. Cat pushes off from the counter and moves past me to get out of the bathroom. She does this with a hand coming to my waist where it rests softly for a brief moment, and I like to imagine that she did it for no other reason than she wanted to touch me.
I follow her out, through the living room and to the kitchen where she pulls her phone out of her purse.
“I’m calling Kevin right now.”
I wordlessly come to stand beside her, my hand going automatically to her lower back where I rest it lightly. A sign of support. A way to give her strength.
She taps her finger on the screen, pulls up Kevin’s number and poises her finger above it. “I’ve got both Kevin and Richard’s contact information in case something happened to their father.”
I nod because I can’t imagine any other reason she’d have to call them, but I see her eyes filled with unease. It hits me all of a sudden why she would even bother to tell me that.
My hand covers hers, and I pull it back from the phone slightly. “Cat,” I say, my tone soft but censuring. “I’d never think you’d do that.”
Call up one of those brothers.
Sons to your husband.
Because you wanted to fuck them.
She gives me somewhat of an apologetic grimace. “I just… you don’t know me, Rand, and I didn’t want you to ever think there was anything—”
“Just stop,” I say roughly as I squeeze her hand in mine. “I do know you, Cat. Now make the damn call.”
She studies me for a moment, and I stare back at her. She finally gives me a nod and pulls her hand free so she can tap on Kevin’s name. She hits the speakerphone button, affording me the same courtesy I just gave her during my call to Bridger.
It makes me feel like we’re a team.
Unit.
Couple.
Really, Rand? You’re letting your head go there?
The phone rings twice and then Kevin is answering. I expected his voice to be higher, maybe even effeminate, because I can’t help but view him as a little pussy for fucking his father’s wife. I expect he’s ugly, small, and weasely.
Instead, his voice is vibrantly deep, and I know in an instant that he’s none of the things I expected.
“Catherine,” he says smoothly, as if he’d just greased his throat with melted butter. “I thought
you’d be calling me. Please tell me you’ve reconsidered my offer to stay here in Jackson.”
Both of our gazes rise from the phone to focus on each other. Cat rolls her eyes in exaggerated fashion, and I grin at her.
“Kevin,” Cat says in her most regal, sophisticated voice. I expect she learned to talk this way being married to Samuel and running in wealthy circles. “I want a copy of the will you claim has cut me out of my inheritance as your father’s wife.”
“So you’re not considering my offer?” he asks, sounding almost hurt.
“Kevin,” Cat snaps to focus him. “I want a copy of the signed will and I want it immediately. When can you get it to me?”
“Sorry, love,” he says, and I can hear the smirk through the phone. I hope I get to wipe it off him one day. “But it’s in my father’s home office in Vegas and of course, I’m here in Jackson. Once I return, I’ll be glad to get you a copy.”
“Wrong, Kevin,” Cat sneers at the phone, and I can actually feel the rage vibrating off her. “I was in Vegas this weekend. In my home… your dad’s office… and the will you purport he signed isn’t there.”
She stops, and I’m surprised she had the fortitude to do so. I thought she might blurt out that we saw the original trust agreement and pour-over will signed not long after the wedding, but she didn’t. She holds that close to the vest, and I think that’s smart. No sense in him knowing exactly how fired up she is or that she has a copy of what is probably the one and only estate document in existence. It’s best to let him think she’s just a girl poking around… not someone to be reckoned with.
Kevin’s silent. For a moment, I think he’s disconnected. Cat and I look at each other, and I give a slight shrug to my shoulders. Finally, he asks in a voice filled with icy disdain, “What is it exactly that you want?”
Cat takes a deep breath. “I want a copy of the signed document that governs Samuel’s estate, so I know what my rights are. And until such time as we can resolve this, I want you to turn my credit cards back on so I have something to live off until that occurs.”
My eyebrows shoot up because I didn’t see that coming. Cat glances at me with a questioning look, and I nod at her in agreement of what she just asked for. My hand comes out, and I hit the “mute” button on the phone so he can’t hear us. “Ask for the house. Tell him you want back in and him out.”
The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series) Page 62