MidnightInk-epub

by MI

  “I love you too, cher. Always have, always will,” Eli said, maintaining soft eye contact as he climbed between Bart’s knees. Then he planted his tattooed hand on Rhonda’s back and reached down between them. “Plug’s comin’ out, Miz Rhonda. Give us a little push.”

  Rhonda tensed in his arms and then relaxed with a sigh.

  Eli drizzled more lube onto her, and then onto his cock, before tossing the tube aside. Kneeling up, he said, “All right, here we go, jolie fille. Give us another push.”

  Bart kissed Rhonda’s hair when she tensed again, rubbing her back and watching Eli concentrate on the joining of their bodies. He could feel Eli’s cock sliding against his as he pushed forward and hear Rhonda humming against his throat, and it was so fucking perfect and so goddam hot, he felt goose bumps rise all over his body. No thrill he’d ever gotten—not even jumping out of an airplane—could compare to this.

  “Mmm, chère, you’re doing so good,” Eli rumbled, gripping her hips as he slipped and slid, forward and back, taking her in sinuous little thrusts that made his lean torso ripple. He had a lot of tats, not just on his arm but on his chest, belly and legs—colorful fish, birds, flowers and a shining fleur-de-lis embedded in a storm.

  “For Katrina?” Bart asked, staring at the symbol of New Orleans being battered by black clouds and crashing waves but standing strong.

  “That was the first one,” Eli told him without interrupting his rhythm.

  Then he lifted his left arm and put his hand behind his head. Pointing at one on his inner biceps, he said, “This was for you. Inked it myself.”

  Bart’s breath stalled in his chest. It was a red heart, discolored in places, patched and stitched all over, and missing a big chunk from one edge.

  He squeezed his eyes shut again, swallowing hard as Rhonda propped her elbow on his chest. “Could’ve picked a better time to show me that, dude,” he said, sucking in a shaky breath.

  Eli chuckled. “Sorry ’bout that, cher.”

  “Wow, Eli!” Rhonda breathed. “You are so freaking gorgeous, and you feel soooo good…” She raked her fingernails down Bart’s ribs with her left hand and he gasped. “That goes for you too, Bart.”

  “That makes three of us then,” he told her, opening his eyes to smile at her. Then her breasts distracted him, and he smiled at them. “So gorgeous,” he reiterated as he reclaimed them with his palms.

  Eli surged deeper and Rhonda moaned, throwing her head back and digging her nails into Bart’s chest. Sliding his fingers into her hair, Eli pulled her back even further and leaned down to molest her neck with his mouth.

  The sight sent a spear of molten need through Bart. He slid his hands back to grasp Rhonda’s ass and began to thrust up in counterpoint to Eli, sliding into her as Eli slid out. The prickly rasp of Eli’s sweat-damp thighs against the tender insides of his made him shudder. “Oh fuuuuck…”

  “God, yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me like Eli’s fucking me, Bart.”

  Bart could only gurgle back, the fire inside him was burning so hot. He wanted to go wild in her, to buck and kick and come like a fucking stallion, but he held on to his control and kept his thrusts deep and even. He felt Eli’s hand slide in between his abdomen and Rhonda’s, felt those strong, sure fingers rubbing circles on her slick clit, and he shuddered again.

  Rhonda’s breathy moans hitched, and then she tightened on him with a scream.

  “Son of a bitch,” he ground out, arching upward as a hellacious orgasm ripped the come from his nuts.

  Eli waited until Bart slumped back onto the mattress before surging into a boneless Rhonda, fucking her with deep, heavy strokes until his rhythm grew jerky, and then he stopped altogether and leaned into her.

  “Fuck!” he whispered, shuddering and jerking against Bart’s thighs before he collapsed beside them.

  Bart sighed. Lying there in the most wondrous, fragrant pile of sweaty flesh he’d ever dreamed of, he drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Rhonda woke in the morning to the sound of sighs and low masculine whimpers, and opened her eyes to the loveliest sight she’d ever seen. Someone had opened the curtains partway, letting in a slice of sunlight to illuminate her lovers. Eli was propped up on a stack of pillows, and Bart sat on his lap, leaning back against him with his head on Eli’s shoulder and his feet planted on either side of Eli’s outstretched legs. As they kissed, Eli’s hands were busy exploring Bart’s buff body, from his golden-stubbled chin to parts hidden from her view by his golden-furred thigh. Bart moaned quietly, twisting a handful of the sheet in his fist when Eli squeezed the head of his hard-on.

  “There’s a pretty little voyeur watchin’ us, cher,” Eli whispered against Bart’s mouth.

  Turning his head, Bart gave her a love-drugged smile. “Morning, Ronnie.”

  She smiled back broadly, propping her head on her hand. “Enjoying yourself there, big guy?”

  “Slightly.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “God, I missed this. Thank you, baby. So much.”

  “That goes double for me, ma chère,” Eli said softly. “There aren’t words to describe how happy I am. I still can’t believe he’s here.”

  “Believe me, boys, it was my pleasure, in every sense of the word,” she assured them. “Keep going.”

  “Perv,” Bart said.

  “Hey, I think I’ve earned the right to watch, don’t you?”

  “Yes, chère, you surely have.” Eli cupped Bart’s chin and pulled his face back around to resume their kiss.

  Rhonda sighed, soaking up the sights and sounds of their tactile pleasure. Eli’s hands began to handle Bart with a little less tenderness and a lot more demand, and Bart’s breathing grew rougher as his body tensed with growing arousal. When Eli whispered something in his ear, Bart shifted gingerly until his head lay on Eli’s other shoulder, where it was easier for her to see both their faces. Then Eli brought his knees up between Bart’s and wedged them open wide.

  Ooh, now that was hot. Eli had Bart’s balls in a tight grip and was massaging him as he pulled them downward. His other hand was down lower, still out of her sight.

  Taking their display as tacit permission to ogle, she sat up for a better look. The feel of her hair sliding over her shoulders reminded her she probably looked like the Bride of Frankenstein, but such was the morning after an insanely hot night in the Big Easy.

  She barely contained a whimper at the sight that met her eyes. As if two gorgeous pairs of balls being displayed in such close proximity to each other weren’t heart-stopping enough, Eli was squeezing and tugging on both of them. She started to pout when his hands moved away almost immediately, but he slid them down to cup Bart’s butt cheeks and urged him up just enough to show her his covered cock was already deep inside Bart.

  Holy fucking shit!

  Her mouth dropped open a little, her heart pounding hard as he let Bart down and then urged him up again, and then again. When he began to tip his own hips up in small counter-thrusts, everything in her collapsed in an inferno of lust.

  “Oh my God,” she drawled, sinking down onto her left elbow as she continued to stare. “That’s…holy…wow.”

  “Ronnie, speechless—mark this day, Eli.”

  She was too enthralled to respond with anything more than an affectionate glance at Bart’s face. He was panting through his parted lips, love and laughter shining in his eyes.

  Eli watched her with a similar look, and she went breathless as her pulse jumped. She might not love him like she loved Bart, but at this rate, it probably wouldn’t take long. It was so obvious that he cared deeply about Bart, and more importantly, that he understood him. That kind of understanding, especially after all these years, took a very special sort of man.

  The sort of man you didn’t let get away.

  Letting her lips curve into a tantalizing smile, she gazed back at him for a long moment before returning to the place where he and Bart were joined.

  Their movements paused, and Bart and Eli both hooked the
ir left legs over Rhonda’s hip, inviting her into their earthy little playground. Curling toward them without hesitation, she reached out to caress the silken flesh of their sacs, provoking broken groans from both of them.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it, pichouette. Give us some o’ that sugar.”

  Already intoxicated by the raw, musky scent of sex, she scooted out from under their legs and crawled up until her knees sank into the dip created by their combined weight and her thighs rested against the inside of Eli’s. Both of them watched avidly as she leaned forward, planting her palms on Bart’s heaving chest.

  “You guys are so fucking beautiful,” she whispered before giving them each a lingering kiss. Bart’s mouth was familiar—a taste of home, with his rough morning beard chafing her lips and chin, and his heavy breaths puffing against her cheek. Though Eli’s beard was longer and silkier, his kiss was vaguely unsettling because he was so controlled and aware. He even kept his eyes open—which she wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t kept hers open, too.

  Settling back on her heels, she played with their balls while they resumed their slow, easy fuck, dividing her attention between their faces and the tight flesh her hands were caressing.

  It wasn’t long before Bart was moaning and tossing his head. “Eli, please…”

  Eli kissed Bart’s temple, his face tense and flushed. “You come whenever you’re ready, mon amour.”

  Rhonda licked her lips with a hopeful look at Eli, and he gave a little nod. Almost trembling with anticipation, she put her hands on Bart’s hipbones and lowered her head, sucking his straining cock into her mouth.

  She almost laughed with the joy of it when her big, beautiful firefighter grabbed her head and bucked wildly, and his choked cry sent a wave of blistering heat across her skin. Hanging on tight, she plunged up and down on his cock as he ground his head back into Eli’s shoulder, with his breath coming in tortured moans. Eli reached across to grab his neck, drawing him into a desperate kiss, and with his free hand, he gripped Bart’s balls tightly and pulled.

  A heartbeat later, Bart’s whole body seized under her hands, and he sobbed against Eli’s mouth as he came, twisting her hair so hard she saw stars and tears streaked down her cheeks.

  So worth it. She skimmed her hands up over his heaving torso, reassuring him, gentling him, watching the tension seep from his face and body while she continued to massage the softening shaft of his cock with her tongue. Eli was still kissing him, undulating gently underneath him, and when he suddenly stiffened and grunted, she realized he was coming. There it was again, that firm control—did he ever give it up?

  He would for her, she decided, whether he wanted to or not. It would be good for him.

  Letting Bart’s cock slip out of her mouth, Rhonda smiled at her two boneless boys—right on schedule, Bart was drifting off into a light sleep while Eli stroked his head and continued to press gentle kisses to his face.

  When Eli looked at her and crooked a finger, she leaned over Bart. He wrapped a hand behind her neck, and she could feel a slight tremor as he reeled her in to kiss her eyes, her cheeks and finally her lips with a reverence that would have brought tears to her eyes again if she weren’t so damn happy. Then he let her go and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.

  Her body alive with excitement and simmering arousal, she climbed off the bed and left them to enjoy their post-orgasmic trance.

  Chapter Nine

  Trembling and dangerously close to tears, Eli held his precious lover close for a long time. He would never have believed his life could change so much in the space of a single day. When he woke yesterday morning, Bart was nothing more than a bittersweet memory, a first love forever lost to youthful arrogance, and now…

  He swallowed, sending up a prayer of thanks that the good Lord watched over children and fools, because he’d certainly been both when he let Bart slip through his ham-fisted fingers. Yet somehow he’d wound up with the best reward a man could hope for on this earth: the love of his life in his arms. And he’d even picked up a bonus prize in the form of one Rhonda Giannetti, the most fascinating woman he’d ever had the fortune to meet.

  He didn’t deserve such riches, but damned if he’d let them get away. This time he’d do whatever it took to keep them. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than forever.

  Bart twitched in his arms, giving a muffled snore, and Eli grinned. It was good to know some things never changed, even if he did.

  Holding him tight, he rolled until they both lay on their sides. Bart barely stirred, just snuggled deeper into the pillow with a low hum. Eli planted one last kiss on his shoulder, one last lingering caress on his pale hip, and then sat up, holding the already-leaking condom in place. He’d pulled out right away but been unable to tear himself away from Bart for fear he’d disappear. Even now he was a little afraid this might all be a dream—if it was, he hoped he never woke up.

  Eli edged off the bed and headed to the bathroom, where he could hear the shower running. Taking the open door as an invitation, he walked in.

  “Hey, chère, you got room in there for two?” he asked as he disposed of the condom.

  Rhonda’s wet head peeked around the edge of the shower curtain. “Oh, you mean me and you?”

  “Bart’s asleep.”

  She grinned. “Of course he is.”

  When she pulled the curtain aside and stepped to the back of the tub to make room for him, Eli’s breath left him in a rush. Man, oh man! He’d thought she was a beauty last night in bed, but scrubbed free of makeup and shiny with water from head to toe, she was a sight to behold. She might be tough, with an erect bearing and strong arms and shoulders, but she was soft, too, with a body obviously built for childbearing. Wide hips and plump thighs, a narrow waist, lush, pear-shaped breasts…

  Rhonda Giannetti was a living fertility goddess, and he was ready to worship at her feet.

  “Do you hear angels singin’ or is it just me?” he asked as he stepped into the tub and tugged the white curtain closed. She’d diverted the spray to the wall, so he reached up and tilted the showerhead until the water beat down between his shoulder blades before pulling her against him.

  By that time, her hands were already sliding down his chest and over his lateral obliques. “It’s not just you, hot stuff,” she said with an artful smile.

  He leaned down and kissed her thoroughly before laying his forehead on hers. “I knew you were gonna be somethin’ special when we talked on Skype.”

  “I was hoping you would be,” she said, trailing a fingertip down his cheek.

  “This is what you planned all along, isn’t it, chère? Admit it.”

  She looked down for an instant and then peeked at him from under her water-clumped lashes, the slightest smile teasing the corners of her lips. “Would I do that?”

  Eli gave a snort of laughter. “You’re gonna be a pain in my ass, aren’t you, Miz Rhonda?”

  “Only in the very best way,” she said, sliding her hands around to cup his ass and digging her fingernails in just enough to remind him she had them.

  His cock hardened instantly. Man, she was going to keep him on his toes, and he loved it. He’d known all along how much he missed Bart’s sweet submission, but he hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed being challenged. It was every bit as intoxicating, and probably every bit as addictive.

  “You’re a firecracker, pichouette,” he told her with a grin. “You need two men to keep up with you.”

  Going up on tiptoe, she breathed against his lips, “You won’t get any argument from me.” Then she laid a long, tongue-filled kiss on him, teasing the back of his neck with her nails and pressing her breasts against his chest until he could hardly think.

  “So you really think we can make this thing work?” he gasped when she pulled away and slid her hands down his chest again.

  She raised a brow at him. “I don’t know. Am I the most stubborn woman you ever met?”

  He couldn’t resist taking another little taste of her lips
before he said, “You are, although Memère could have given you a run for your money.”

  “Then yes, we can make it work, because I won’t have it any other way.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He took her wet left hand and bent to kiss it before rubbing her bare ring finger. “You should still marry him, chère. One of us has to get him so tied up in red tape he can’t get away.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Just how small is that house of yours, Eli?”

  “Two cramped bedrooms, one cramped bath, one postage stamp of a yard.”

  “You know, Bart and I have been looking for a house. We could look for one a lot farther south, one big enough for all three of us…” For the first time, she looked hesitant. “Unless you think it’s too soon.”

  “Sugar, yesterday wouldn’t be too soon for me. I could probably sell my house with one phone call.”

  “Do it.” Bart shoved aside the shower curtain and climbed in behind Rhonda wearing a huge grin. “I’m ready, too.”

  “Good morning to you, jolie garçon.” Eli grinned too as he leaned over Rhonda’s shoulder to plant a smacking kiss on Bart’s lips.

  “How long have you been awake?” Rhonda asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

  And he’d thought Bart’s grin couldn’t get any wider. “Long enough to let you two get our future squared away. I did my part last night—Eli said so.”

  It was Rhonda’s turn to grin. “Well if Eli said so.”

  “He did,” Bart said smugly.

  Eli paused. A little nap after sex had always done that boy a world of good, but he’d never seen him this happy. It almost made a man wonder if Bart was the one who planned this all along instead of Rhonda. But Bart wasn’t that sly…was he?

  “All right, garçon, I’m onto you,” he said, crossing his arms. “You weren’t really sleeping, were you? You just wanted to eat Rhonda’s pie.”

  She whirled around. “Bart! That was mine!”