by Dakota West
Shane’s hand stole beneath her shirt, and she could feel his thumb run just below the underwire of her bra. She sucked in a breath as his mouth left her nipple and his fingers moved over her bra, just barely brushing the other puckered, ridged surface.
“Johnnie Walker,” she said, saying the first man’s name who came to mind.
“Close,” said Elliott.
Shane’s hands moved under her bra strap to the back, and her whole body thrilled with anticipation.
Elliott bit her ear, gently.
“Fuck,” she gasped. “Jack Daniels.”
“You’re just naming whiskey,” Elliott murmured. “You’re not even trying.”
His erection was pressed up against her back, then rubbing into Shane’s hand. Shane chuckled, and Greta thought that she could hear Elliott suck a breath in, quickly.
His hands were still over her eyes. She couldn’t see.
“Captain Morgan,” she said, totally unable to think of anything she didn’t see every day. “That one’s a rum, at least.”
“You’ve used all your guesses,” said Elliott.
Shane unhooked her bra and in one motion, lifted both the cups over her breasts, letting her nipples rub against her shirt and his fingers.
“What are you going to do now?” she teased.
She put her own hands over Elliott’s, pulling them away from her face, yanking him along after them. He bent over her, and she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, even though he was practically upside-down, letting her fingers weave through his hair, his slight beard tickling at her face. Shane’s hands covered her breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs sliding over her nipples again and again, and Greta was beginning to feel like she might just explode with desire.
The moment that she and Elliott drew apart, Shane pushed her t-shirt and bra over her head, tossing them somewhere else in the room and leaned forward, latching his lips around her nipple again. At the same time, he grabbed Elliott by the waistband of his pants and pulled him forward, quickly undoing his belt and the top button on his pants. Elliott got his shirt off fast, and then pulled Shane’s away.
Greta felt like her brain had been carbonated, with little bubbles of lust rising to the surface. All she could think about was how badly she wanted these two, to feel them inside her, for them to make her scream wordlessly with pleasure.
She grabbed Shane’s pants and undid them, slowly lowering the zipper until a huge bulge rose between its teeth, still clad in his boxers. She grabbed it and squeezed, grinning at Shane’s surprised gasp, every muscle in his perfect body tensing at once.
“For me?” she whispered.
Shane could only nod helplessly, and then she felt Elliott’s hands on her pants, undoing them.
He lifted her off Shane and Shane leaned forward to pull her pants off as Elliott whirled her around, making her face him.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he said, and then kissed her.
Greta felt like she was melting into him, his tongue pressing into her mouth, his hand grasping her head firmly. By the time he pulled away she was gasping for air, Shane’s hands on her hips, pulling her back down.
Then she could feel the tip of his cock at her entrance, almost teasing her, her entire brain fogged with pure desire.
She let herself sink onto it, taking his entire length in one thrust, a moan ripping from her throat as she did. It felt like he was somehow hitting every pleasure spot inside her with his perfect cock.
Then she lifted herself up, his strong hands guiding her, and let herself down again.
In front of her, Elliott grinned, his pants unbuttoned, his own cock bulging out.
“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.
Greta didn’t respond, she just pulled his pants down and grabbed his cock in both her hands, moving them as she bounced up and down on Shane.
In a moment, Elliott stepped back, took off his pants, and got on his knees.
Greta frowned.
“What are you—”
He leaned forward, taking her knees in his hands and pushing them apart, and immediately, Greta understood. Her eyes rolled back in her head as Elliott’s tongue found her pleasure button instantly, flicking it from side to side deftly as the warm heat of her arousal pulsed and threatened to break free, the heady rush of Elliott’s tongue combining with the intense heat of Shane’s thick shaft.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed. Both her hands were on Elliott’s head, her fingers running through his hair, and she could feel his tongue move down, around her lips, and then behind her, Shane groaned hard as Elliott’s lips found the root of his shaft before moving back up.
Elliott’s tongue circled Greta lazily, the slowness driving her completely wild as she got closer and closer to the brink, though every time she approached it, he’d hesitate just for a moment and she would back away. He did it again and again, teasing her, until at last she tightened her grip on his hair.
“Elliott,” she growled.
He flicked his tongue over her, making her gasp.
“Come on,” she begged.
He flicked again, then circled her, careful not to touch her clit.
“Just make me cum,” she whispered.
She could have sworn he chuckled, but he licked her harder and harder at the same time that Shane moved inside her, his thick cock pressing up against every pleasure center and moments later, Greta could feel herself tumble over the brink, her mind going white with pleasure. It felt like a volcano exploded inside her, sending red-hot pleasure through her entire body, until even her fingers and toes were tingling with it.
Elliott stood, grinning down at her, then bent and kissed her hard, his tongue in her mouth. Shane was still hard, somehow, and although she felt spent she moved her hips against him as Elliott brushed a thumb over her nipple, making her inhale sharply.
“How about a round two?” he asked, nuzzling against her ear.
Shane moved his arm from around her waist. Elliott lifted her off of his mate like she weighed nothing, then tossed her gently onto the couch and followed her, his face in her neck. He growled as he kissed the soft skin there, and Greta wound her fingers into his hair.
Her hands found his erection, still rock-hard, and he groaned as she stroked it from root to tip. He took her nipple lightly between his teeth and flicked his tongue across it, then looked up at her, his eyes sexy and almost dangerous.
“Are you just going to tease me?” he asked, his voice low and dusky.
“What if I did?” Greta asked, letting a smile play around her lips.
“I’m very dangerous when teased,” he said, kissing the spot right between her breasts. “You never know what I might do.”
He looked up at her, and Greta swallowed hard as a river of fire coursed through her.
“What might you do?” she asked. She raised her hips slightly, an invitation, and took her hands from him.
Elliott grinned, and then in one swift motion, he was deep inside her, completely hilted. Greta gasped, automatically wrapping one leg around his back, her back arching as she took him.
A long, deep groan came from somewhere in his chest, reverberating through her, and Greta felt like she was sinking slowly into a cloud of pleasure and nothing else existed.
“I told you,” Elliott whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Behind him, Shane stood and looked around, frowning. Then he walked to a box, tore the cardboard away, and stuck his hand in. Greta had no idea what he was doing, and didn’t care, until she saw him stroking himself, a small bottle in his other hand.
Shane got back on the couch behind Elliott and bent over his mate, kissing the back off Elliott’s neck. Elliott moaned again, then shifted himself and Greta, hoisting her up a little but keeping himself buried. Shane grabbed her ankle and kissed it, his eyes dancing over Elliott’s shoulder, and Greta yelped.
“That tickles,” she said, panting.
Shane just grin
ned at her, then slid a hand over Elliott’s shoulder.
“Get ready,” he said to his mate, then bit his earlobe.
Elliott went still, a look of perfect concentration on his face. Greta could see his jaw flex under his skin, and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.
“Almost,” Shane whispered into Elliott’s ear, and Greta’s eyes widened. “Almost...”
Oh, she thought.
Then Shane squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers tightening on Elliott’s shoulder, and Elliott exhaled hard. Inside her, Greta felt him throb and she bit her lip, sliding a hand onto his shoulder, over top of Shane’s, grabbing them both at once.
He thrust again, even harder than before, and Greta could feel the force of Shane thrusting into Elliot as well, sending an echo of pleasure through her body. On Elliott’s shoulder, Shane laced his fingers through hers, his forehead against Elliott’s shoulder.
Greta closed her eyes and let the pleasure blossom through her. It was utterly beyond her control. She couldn’t do a thing to stop it, but every thrust felt better and better until suddenly she felt something explode deep inside her and she cried out, arching her back and squeezing Elliott between her legs.
A tremor ran through her entire body, making her fingers and toes curl, and she was just barely conscious of Shane’s hand tightening on hers, of Elliott putting his head on her shoulder and letting out a long, low groan.
Sparkles danced in front of Greta’s eyes and the three of them slowed, gradually, and then laid in a sweaty pile on the couch, her arm slung over Elliott’s back. At last, he kissed her shoulder again, and then he and Shane both rolled off and sat on the couch, Greta nestled against Elliott’s side, Shane’s arm around his shoulders.
“You get what you came for?” Elliott asked eventually, looking down at Greta.
She laughed, to exhausted to do anything else.
“I think so,” she said, nuzzling into his arm.
Chapter Thirteen
Shane
Sated and happy, Shane drifted off to sleep. He didn’t think he’d ever felt more complete or happy.
When he woke up, there was an orange flicker dancing along the wall.
Elliott must have lit a fire, he thought, still half-asleep. He stretched his toes toward it, waiting for the toasty warmth to soak into them, but it never did.
He frowned and looked up, shaking his head a little to get the sleep out of his brain.
The orange flicker wasn’t just on the wall, it was dancing through the entire room, but the fireplace was dark.
Alarm bells started going off in Shane’s head, and his eyes snapped all the way open as he jumped off the couch, looking around frantically. He could smell something burning — something utterly stomach-turning, and he looked toward the front windows of the house.
A car was on fire, the bright orange flames licking through the windows, a column of smoke obscuring the stars in the night sky.
“What the hell?” Shane said, more confused than angry at first.
Did lightning strike it? he wondered, still totally baffled. No, that would have woken us up.
Do cars spontaneously combust?
On the couch, Greta and Elliott sat up, blinking.
“What’s going on?” Greta asked, her voice instantly on edge, as she looked around and sniffed the air. “What’s on fire?”
“Shit,” said Shane.
“Is that my car?” shouted Greta.
Still naked, she and Elliott both jumped off of the couch, and Greta practically sprinted out the front door and toward her car, Shane right behind her.
Then she stopped short and Shane nearly knocked her over, the heat rolling off the car fire.
“Zeke?” she asked. With one hand, she shaded her eyes against the glare of the fire. Shane’s head snapped around, and for a long moment, he and Greta both stared at the other shifter, standing off to the side.
“Did you set my car on fire?” she said, her voice somewhere between rage and disbelief.
Zeke didn’t say anything, but he started to smirk.
Shane’s eyes fell on the red gas canister next to him
“What the fuck?” Greta screamed. “You set my car on fire?”
Zeke just smirked more and gave her a half-shrug. Greta stomped toward him, still totally naked, looking prepared to fight him herself.
“You’ll just spread your legs for anyone,” Zeke said contemptuously. He flicked his gaze to Shane, then right back to Greta. “Two guys show up in town and a couple of days later you’re screaming like a hussy on their couch.”
“The fuck do you care?” Greta shouted. “That doesn’t mean you can set my car on fire!”
Shane saw red, then his vision started to turn white at the edges with pure rage. Sweat poured off of him.
Don’t do anything, he thought. You’ll just make it worse. He’s going to jail.
Still looking at Greta, Zeke just shrugged. He was facing the car fire, and in the orange flicker, it almost looked like he was laughing at her.
“Maybe you should be a little nicer to the men around here,” he said.
Greta’s mouth hung open, speechless.
“You were supposed to be mine!”
“Supposed to be?” shouted Greta. She stopped about two feet in front of him, and Shane could have sworn that her curly hair stood on end with rage. “Supposed to be?”
“Oh, come on,” said Zeke. “You didn’t have any better prospects than me until these guys came along.”
“I would rather let my vagina be an empty wasteland forever than have sex with you,” Greta said, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
“That’s what you deserve,” Zeke spat.
In the distance, Shane saw a red light flash. His whole body shook with the force of his fury, and he desperately clenched and unclenched his fists.
Getting into a fight with Zeke right now just means you’ll also get arrested, he told himself. You can see the flashing lights from here.
“You were an asshole in high school, and you’re an asshole now,” Greta snarled, taking another step forward.
“What, you’re gonna punch me?” Zeke said sarcastically.
The lights were getting closer, and Shane stepped up.
Greta put one hand on his chest.
“Don’t,” she said. “It’s not worth it.”
Shane’s hands itched, and he could practically feel himself shifting already, ready to rip Zeke’s throat out.
“Come on,” Greta said, her voice low, her eyes pleading.
Elliott appeared in the doorway, running down the porch stairs with a fire extinguisher in his hands. At the bottom, he yanked the pin out, then aimed it at the fire and squeezed the handle. White foam shot everywhere, but it didn’t do much.
Zeke snorted.
“Still a fucking nerd,” he said to Elliott, the contempt dripping from his voice.
Now Shane could see the light flashing at the bottom of their long driveway.
“You have got to fucking drop that,” Greta said. “It’s been thirteen years, and the only one hung up on him being a dork is you,” she growled. “No one else gives a shit.”
“Is that why he’s been telling everyone he works on a farm?” Zeke said sarcastically. “Because he’s over it?”
Greta frowned and glanced at Shane, looking off-balance for the first time during the conversation.
“He’s a Latin professor at Cascadia State,” said Zeke, grinning. “My sister’s in his class.”
Greta looked back at Elliott for a split second. Then she looked at Shane for a moment, and Shane nodded.
“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Anything else?”
Then the lights were there, the fire truck charging up the driveway with its sirens off, a police car right behind it. Elliott gave up on the fire extinguisher and backed away, letting two men jump off the truck, unfurl the hose, and get to work.
Then Shane heard another voice.
�
�Get on the ground!”
Two policemen emerged from around the fire truck, pointing guns at Zeke, Shane, and Greta.
Greta and Shane looked at each other, and both of them raised their hands.
“It’s me, Dane,” Zeke said. He didn’t move.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” his older brother said. “Get on the ground.”
Zeke turned around and rolled his eyes at his brother.
“Seriously?”
Dane cocked his gun.
“You set Greta’s car on fire, ” he said. “Yes, I’m fucking serious.”
Zeke’s face changed, his look of arrogance changing slowly to one of disbelief as he looked from Dane to Greta.
“She deserved it,” Zeke said.
“I doubt that,” said Dane. “On. Your. Knees.”
Then, slowly, he sank to his knees, still staring at Greta.
“You should have belonged to me,” he said.
“Fuck you,” Greta said.
Dane tightened the handcuffs around his brother’s wrists, and Zeke made a pained face.
“I should have arrested you ages ago,” Dane said. “Maybe now you wouldn’t have set a car on fire.”
Zeke just shrugged, and Dane marched him back to his car. The other cop stood around, watching the proceedings. When his brother was locked in the car, Dane came back to where Greta, Shane, and Elliott all stood.
“You folks going anywhere before tomorrow?” he asked.
Greta just made a face and looked at the blackened shell of her car.
“Sorry,” Dane said.
“I don’t think so,” said Elliott. He still held the half-empty fire extinguisher in one hand.
“I’ll give you a call in the morning and you can come down and make your statements tomorrow, then,” he said, his hands on his hips. “We’re a little short-staffed tonight anyway, and besides, it’s cold and you’re not wearing clothes.”
Shane looked down.
“Thanks,” Shane said.
The three of them watched as Dane drove away, Zeke in his back seat, as the two firefighters walked over.
“Fire’s out,” one said. “That guy set it?”
“Yeah,” Shane said.
The fireman just shook his head.