Inside Heat

by Roz Lee

  She went over the edge. Jason clamped his teeth hard over one nipple. She screamed. Pain and pleasure melded into one as she escaped earth’s bonds. Nothing could ever feel that dangerous, or that good, again. Simultaneous curses from Jason and Jeff told her they had found the same unearthly plane. They shoved into her as their cocks pulsed, flooding her with their heat. She took it all, savoring this part of them that they gave to her, and her alone.

  She collapsed against Jason’s laboring chest. Jeff stroked her back for several minutes, then as he grew soft, he slipped from her. He pressed his lips to her sore ass. His breath fanned against her tender skin until gooseflesh covered her body. He laughed and did it again. She reached out in a weak attempt to swat at him.

  Jason shifted his hips, slipping from her. Jeff stood over them. “Let’s get cleaned up, then I need food.”

  Megan rolled off Jason. He got to his feet and both men offered a hand to help her up. Her knees refused to hold her. She fell into Jeff, and he caught her to his side and helped her to the open shower in the corner. Designed for one person to rinse off, the three of them pressed close, skin-to-skin under the spray. Megan felt like a ragdoll, supported by one, then the other, as they bathed her body, taking extra care with the tender flesh between her legs.

  Jeff dried her while Jason supported her. When they were all dry, Jason carried her to her bedroom. Megan closed her eyes as Jason deposited her on the bed and pulled the duvet over her. “Rest. We’ll order in tonight,” he said. He placed a kiss on her forehead, then walked to the door where Jeff stood, watching. “She’s exhausted.”

  “We should have been easier on her,” Jeff said in a voice just above a whisper. Their concern was touching, but unnecessary. Megan hadn’t felt this good in a long time. She’d been thoroughly loved by the two most incredible men in the whole world, and now, they were taking care of her as if she were spun glass. What more could a woman want? She loved them both in her own way. They were so much a part of her now she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

  “We were doing fine until you came home and stuck your dick in where it wasn’t needed,” Jason said.

  “I needed her.”

  “And that’s supposed to make it okay? Christ, Jeff.”

  “You know I can hear you, don’t you?” She couldn’t let them argue over something she’d enjoyed so much.

  A chorus of apologies sounded from the doorway. Megan rose up on one elbow. With towels wrapped around their waists, they looked like they’d been caught playing pranks in the locker room, and it was all she could do to keep a straight face. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. More than fine, actually. I loved it. I’d invite you both to come snuggle with me, but I’m starving, and if I invited you to bed, I’d never get anything to eat. So scram, both of you, and let me know when there’s food downstairs.”

  Megan waited until she heard their doors open and shut before she curled on her side and closed her eyes. Her pussy and ass still throbbed from their penetration, but it wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable. She squeezed her thighs together, savoring the pressure on sensitive skin. Jason was right, she was exhausted.

  She placed her palm over her stomach, reliving in her mind the feel of them emptying into her. How could a man possibly understand how that felt, or how much she loved knowing she held a part of them inside her still? Maybe one day she’d have an even bigger part, a baby. Jeff’s baby.

  * * * *

  Jeff paid the delivery boy and carried the food to the big granite island in the kitchen. He’d taken the lids off the foil containers and set out plates and silverware when Jason and Megan came into the room. Megan placed one hand on his stomach, just above the waistband of his jeans and slid it in a provocative caress around to his side. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Uhm. You smell good, and so does this.” She indicated the Mexican food spread out on the island.

  Jeff smiled and watched her sidle around the corner and take the middle of the three seats on the other side. Jason followed, taking his place beside Megan. Jeff crossed to the Subzero refrigerator, took three beers out and slid them across the smooth counter. “You smell pretty good yourself. Did you get enough rest?”

  Before she could answer, Jason pointed a remote at the under-counter television, and the unit blared to life. He flicked through channels and Megan raised her voice to talk over the noise. “I did, thanks. And thanks for getting dinner.”

  “It’s the least we could do,” Jeff answered as he joined her and Jason at the island. “I should have left when I saw you with Jason, or just watched. What can I say? You make me crazy.”

  “Hey! Look who’s on TV.” Jason pointed at the small television.

  Jeff groaned. “What the hell is…”

  “Shhh!” Jason increased the volume. “I want to hear this.”

  Megan laid her hand on Jeff’s arm. He turned his head and the understanding in her eyes was cold water on his anger. How did she do that? Diffuse his anger with a look or a touch? Calmer, he turned back to the press conference, and the one player he had zero respect for. Martin McCree.

  It was enough to ruin your appetite, the way he stood there denying his steroid use. Anyone who believed what McCree spouted should also be interested in prime real estate in South Florida. Both were bogs, that once you sunk your feet into, you’d never be free of.

  “Turn it off,” Jeff barked. “It’s ruining my appetite.”

  “But…”

  “Turn. It. Off.”

  Jason lifted the remote and a game show filled the screen. “There. What’s with you anyway?” he complained.

  “I can’t stand that guy. I have to see his face on the field, but nothing says I have to invite him into my home.”

  “I can’t stand him either, but it’s kind of funny, watching him dig his own grave. You know, sooner or later, he’s going to test positive. No way did he get all that muscle on his own.”

  “Well, up until then, I have to pitch to the bastard and hope he doesn’t hit one right back at my head.”

  Jason helped himself to another taco. “Just keep throwing him what I tell you, and he won’t hit it. He might have more muscle now, but he’s still dumber than a bag of peanuts.”

  “Is he a problem?” Megan asked.

  “He’s the biggest problem in baseball right now. So far, I’ve been able to hold him off, but as the season goes on…”

  “As the season goes on, he’ll be out on his ass for fifty games.”

  “Not unless he takes a drug test. So far, he hasn’t come up in the random selection, and it doesn’t appear anyone on the Health Policy Advisory Committee is going to call for one.”

  “Why not? If it’s clear he’s cheating, why doesn’t someone do something?”

  Jeff shook his head. Megan was as honest as the day was long, and thought everyone else should be too. “It’s not that easy, sugar. Even though everyone in the league is sure McCree is, or was, using steroids, no one wants to be the one pointing a finger. Maybe he did build all that muscle over the winter. Theoretically, it’s possible. Don’t worry. His name will come up in the random drug test selection soon enough, and then we’ll see.”

  “So, you and all the other pitchers are supposed to let him keep this up?”

  “For now, that’s all we can do.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair to me. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Jason slid his empty plate a few inches and rested his forearms on the countertop. “I say we forget all about illegal steroids and put in a movie or something. Tomorrow’s game is late, so we can sleep in tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jeff said. He stood, gathered the empty food containers, and dumped them in the trash basket under the sink. “What about you?” he asked Megan.

  “I’m in, as long as I get to choose the movie.”

  Jeff braced both hands on the counter and dropped his head between his shoulders. Megan always chose a lame-ass romantic come
dy, or worse, something where everyone wore too many clothes and spoke with accents he couldn’t understand. But, then again, maybe she did deserve to choose after the way they’d taken her earlier.

  “Okay with me,” Jason said in uncharacteristic agreement. Jeff shot him a look. Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey! What did I do?”

  “You just condemned us to an evening of chick flicks, you idiot.”

  Megan’s laughter had both men frowning. “What’s so funny?” Jeff asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “What if I promise no chick flicks?”

  Jeff was instantly suspicious, but he had no reason to suspect Megan had any other motive. The truth was, he didn’t care if she put in a chick flick or not, as long as he got to hold her for a while. He could amuse himself in other ways while she watched the movie.

  “Deal,” he said. “We’ll clean up in here. You go on and get the movie started. We’ll be there in a few.”

  Jason grumbled something beneath his breath, but he kissed Megan on the cheek and sent her into the den. “Sorry. I thought we should humor her tonight. You know, after what we did earlier.”

  “I agree. We were pretty hard on her, but Christ, I couldn’t wait to be inside her. When I came in and saw you with her, I had to have her too.” Jeff ran a hand through his hair and stared blankly at the door Megan had disappeared through.

  “Don’t worry. She looks fine. She sounds fine. And it isn’t like we haven’t done it before.”

  “I know. We usually work our way up to it, you know? Today, I just did it.”

  Jason picked up a dirty plate and rinsed it in the sink, then opened the dishwasher and placed it in the bottom rack. Jeff leaned his hips against the island and watched. “You know how to load the dishwasher?” he asked with mock amazement. “I didn’t think you even knew where it was.”

  “Shut the fuck up, asshole. Just because I don’t dust every piece of furniture I walk by, doesn’t mean I don’t know how.” He glared at his brother. “Hand me another fucking plate, or you can do this all by yourself.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jason propped his feet on the coffee table, more to annoy Jeff than anything else. Old habits were hard to break. Ever since they were kids, he knew how to push his brother’s buttons, and he did it often. If Jeff ever bothered to look, he’d find Jason’s bedroom every bit as neat as his, maybe neater, but that was Jason’s little secret. A guy had to have something that was his own.

  A plate in the sink didn’t bother Jason, but it made Jeff crazy. How was a brother supposed to ignore opportunities like that? Jason couldn’t, anymore than he could stop breathing.

  It didn’t help that every day he felt Megan slipping away from him a little more. Or maybe he was slipping away from her; he couldn’t tell. All he knew was his alone time with her had dwindled to almost nonexistent in the last few months.

  This afternoon, he seized the opportunity to have Megan all to himself for a while, and she hadn’t exactly pushed him away. When Jeff walked in though, he really hoped Megan would say she wanted to be alone with him. Instead, she allowed Jeff to join them. He did a good job of hiding his feelings, or at least, he thought he did.

  Megan had been curled up on the sofa under a throw when he and Jeff came in. She looked so soft and warm, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, but the minute Jeff sat on her other side, she practically crawled into his lap. That’s where she was now, still looking like a kitten cuddled up next to the stove. They looked so damned cozy. Jason swallowed hard, and tried to concentrate on the movie. It was an old one, but a favorite which they’d watched many times. Only tonight, he stared at the screen with sightless eyes.

  What the hell was happening? He’d never felt so much on the outside, so alone. Things were changing. He’d known it for some time, but it had never hit him with such force before. Megan shifted in Jeff’s embrace. Jason knew without looking that they were getting more intimate. She parted her legs and squirmed her delectable bottom around to allow Jeff better access. Jason could smell her unique scent, stirred by their slight movements. Even after their earlier encounter, he should be hard as a post watching them get it on, but he remained flaccid. If he turned to them, he’d be invited to play too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  A hole opened in his chest. He’d never turned down an invitation to touch her, and she’d never turned him away. Yet, somehow, tonight, he felt like he was on the outside, looking in, and even being on the periphery felt wrong. Hell, he felt like a Peeping Tom.

  Shit. He’d watched Megan and Jeff together plenty of times and never felt like a pervert before. So why now? What the hell was wrong with him?

  “Jase,” Megan ran her dainty foot over his bare forearm. His skin tingled at the invitation. But where there should have been a reaction – nothing. Abso-freaking-nothing. His gut churned and the gaping hole in his chest threatened to swallow him whole. He tried to focus on the television, realizing his vision problem was caused by excess moisture. Christ. He had to get out of there before he did something really stupid.

  “Thanks, but you two have a good time. It’s been a long day.” Did he sound normal? He couldn’t tell for the blood rushing past his ears as he stood. “I’m going to bed.”

  Megan’s concerned voice followed him out of the room, wishing him a good night. He shouted his response over his shoulder. Looking at them was out of the question. Just being in the same house tonight felt like a challenge, one he wasn’t sure he was up to.

  Up to. That was hilarious. He knew his inability wasn’t physical. It was all in his fucked up head tonight. He closed the door behind him and pulled his T-shirt over his head as he crossed the room to the walk-in closet. Everything was in its place. Shoes on their custom built racks, ties hung from their miniature hangers. Rows of color-coordinated shirts, slacks and suits. His life outside this house was every bit as orderly. Maybe he needed to shake things up. Maybe he needed his own woman. One he didn’t have to share. It had been a long time since he’d thought about going solo. Where the hell was he supposed to find a woman? It wasn’t like he could go out to a club and pick one up. The tabloids would have a field day with that. Just ask A-Rod.

  He held the T-shirt over the hamper, staring at the mound of clothes in the bottom, then swung his hand away. The shirt fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. His jeans joined the shirt. He lied to Jeff and Megan. He wasn’t in the least bit tired, but he couldn’t go back in there. They had another game tomorrow against the Miners, and that meant facing McCree again. Today’s stats and analysis would be up by now, so he grabbed his laptop and settled against the headboard to do a little studying.

  He didn’t really need another woman. He had Megan, if he wanted her. But…did he want her if he couldn’t have all of her?

  Memorizing stats wasn’t what Jason had envisioned for the evening, but it was a hell of a lot better than his only other choice. Besides, Jeff couldn’t throw the same pitch sequences tomorrow that he had today, especially not to McCree. His brother relied on him to know the batters, to ferret out their weaknesses and to call the best pitch sequence possible. He powered up the computer and entered the password for the Mustangs’ database. A complex grid filled the screen.

  * * * *

  “What’s wrong with him?” Megan asked.

  Jeff stroked his long fingers through her slick folds. His lips tugged at her earlobe. “Who?”

  “Jase.” Megan tilted her head to one side to allow Jeff better access. Her knees slid further apart.

  “Who cares?” He dipped one finger inside her and unerringly found the spot guaranteed to turn her into a puddle of goo. Tonight was no different. She lifted her hips to meet him.

  “About?” She’d lost track of the conversation. It was something important, or at least it seemed important at the time. Jeff stroked her tender folds. Her insides heated, throbbed for his touch, for the blissful release that hovered tantalizingly close.

  “I don�
�t want to hurt you.” Jeff’s voice was a soft whisper against her temple.

  “You won’t,” she assured. “It feels so good…” Whatever they’d been talking about no longer mattered as she gave herself over to the sensations. So good. Jeff had always known how to touch her, how to make her lose herself. His heat enveloped her, wrapping her in bone melting sunshine. Being in his arms was better than soaking in a hot tub. He had the ability to heat her to the core.

  “You’re so perfect.” Jeff’s free hand covered her breast and squeezed. Electricity shot through her as if he’d closed an unseen circuit. She squirmed as her whole body jolted then clenched tight. “So responsive, so sweet…,” his lips switched from words to actions.

  It was late when she curled up beside Jeff in his bed and drifted off to sleep. She wanted to say goodnight to Jason, but the band beneath his door was dark. Whatever had been bothering him, and something sure as heck was, it would have to wait.

  * * * *

  Jason cursed under his breath as he made his way to the clubhouse, practically daring anyone to get in his way. Christ, he needed to get a grip. Jeff had been right about McCree weeks ago. He should have listened, but he’d been too focused on his relationship, or lack thereof with Megan to hear what his brother was saying. This was the second series they’d faced the Miners, and McCree was still playing, and still a threat that couldn’t be ignored. The scoreboard testified to that fact. He’d called a sequence of pitches that should have gotten the bastard out, but as the season wore on, McCree was learning to read the pitchers better.

  Jeff was going to be pissed. Not only had Jason called the pitch that cost the Mustangs the game, but he’d left his brother out there on the field to face the press after the blown save. Reporters were your best friend if you were winning, but let the best closer in baseball blow a save, and they would descend like a flock of vultures. He should have stayed by Jeff’s side. The loss was more his fault than Jeff’s. Hell, he’d called pitches the entire game, and every fucking time McCree came up to bat he’d had a hit.