by Lila Dubois
Marco stepped up behind him, his chest against Damon’s back. Tasha’s gaze was fixed on them, and she was biting her lower lip.
One by one, Marco undid the buttons of Damon’s shirt. Damon held still, struggling to understand his feelings. He was aroused and nervous. He had this terrible feeling that if he didn’t keep himself still he would turn and devour Marco. He’d always been a careful lover—his size made that a necessity. It was easy to be gentle with women. Their femininity automatically triggered that. But he was about to have sex with Marco—his friend, his companion in debauchery. There was no need for gentleness.
“Damon,” Marco whispered in his ear. “It’s just me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled.
“Hurt me?”
“Yes, damn it.”
He saw Tasha leave the room, but right now he couldn’t focus on her. He was focused on Marco.
Turning, he fisted his hand in Marco’s hair. His blue eyes were heavy with arousal. “I never thought we’d do this,” Damon admitted.
“I hoped. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What was the point? We were going to be married to other people. Starting a relationship would have just made that harder.”
“I don’t find men attractive,” Damon said. “Except you.”
“I’m glad you think I’m pretty.” Marco grinned that teasing half smile that normally made Damon roll his eyes.
Damon kissed him. He kissed that smile he’d seen so many times. Marco was stiff, surprised, but then he grabbed the back of Damon’s shirt. They fought for control of the kiss. As Damon feared, they were not gentle with each other. Sex demanded that someone submit, but neither was willing to do that—not yet.
Damon ripped Marco’s shirt open, sending buttons flying. Marco undid his belt, tossed it aside and fumbled with his pants. Urging Marco back toward the bed, Damon shoved him, causing him to lose his balance and fall back. Stepping out of his shoes, Damon shucked everything but his underwear.
“Take off your pants,” he demanded.
Marco rolled to his feet and stripped. Damon paused when Marco shed his boxers. He’d seen his friend’s cock before plenty of times, but seeing it now felt different.
Marco grabbed him, hooked a leg behind his, and pushed Damon down on the bed, reversing their positions. Damon groaned as Marco grabbed his cock through his boxers.
“Did you think you were going to be in charge of this?” Marco’s voice was low.
“You’re damned right,” Damon growled, licking his lips. Marco’s palm was rubbing his cock, his thumb pressed against the head.
“We’ll see.” Marco grabbed Damon’s boxers and pulled them off before joining him on the bed.
There was a shock of surprise as Marco’s cock rested on Damon’s hip. It was unfamiliar and alarming at first.
Needing to regain his equilibrium, Damon surged up, forcing Marco onto his back. Using his bulk to hold him down, Damon kissed him. Marco stroked his back before grabbing his ass and squeezing. It surprised Damon enough that Marco was able to roll him over and climb on top. He bit Damon’s shoulder, his chest, while his fingers tugged on Damon’s cock.
“Fuck,” Damon moaned.
Marco danced his fingers over Damon’s balls before dipping down to touch his anus.
Damon tossed Marco off and reversed their positions. When he pressed his finger against Marco’s puckered entrance, the other man clenched his jaw, moaning.
“Wait.”
Damon was shocked to hear Tasha’s voice. He’d almost forgotten about her. Looking up, he was prepared to apologize to her, but she didn’t seem angry.
“Give me your hand,” she said.
Damon blinked in confusion. She pulled on his wrist, forcing him to stop touching Marco, who raised his head. “Tasha?”
She held up a glove and forced it on to Damon’s left hand. She popped open a bottle of lube and poured some onto his fingers. “One finger to start, go slow and let his body adjust.”
Damon was once again struck by this feeling that he would never really know her—she was a million different things. An hour ago, she’d been confessing her virgin status, and now she was a safe-sex referee and director.
Marco was distracted looking at her, so when Damon touched his anus, rubbing the lube against him, he jerked in surprise. That surprise quickly changed to a moan.
“Does that feel good?” Damon asked.
“Yes. But I want to fuck you.”
Damon smiled. “That’s too damn bad.”
He thrust one finger into Marco’s ass. It wasn’t the first time he’d fingered someone’s ass—it was a little embarrassing that he’d forgotten he needed lube until Tasha said something. But while he’d always carefully prepped his female lovers for anal sex, he’d been planning to simply fuck Marco.
“Damon,” Marco moaned.
He added a second finger. Marco grabbed his head and brought it down for a brutal kiss. Damon started ramming his fingers into Marco’s ass, enjoying the way Marco’s body thrust down onto his hand.
The bed dipped and he broke the kiss to look at Tasha, who was sitting by Marco’s head. She passed him a condom. Marco ripped it open and reached for Damon’s cock.
Marco’s touch was direct and forceful in a way a woman’s never had been. Damon nearly came in his hand as Marco rolled the condom on.
“I need you now.” Shoving Marco’s legs open, Damon moved between them as Marco bent his knees. He’d never taken a woman anally face-to-face, but that’s how he wanted Marco. He wanted to look into his blue eyes as he fucked him.
Guiding his cock with his hand, Damon positioned himself and then paused. Everything was about to change. Marco stroked his chest, thumbed his nipples and then drew him down for a kiss.
As their lips met, Damon thrust. Marco was tight, and he paused, letting the other man adjust.
“Fuck, that hurts,” Marco growled.
Damon met his gaze and then pushed in deeper, forcing Marco to take him. To take him all. Marco gripped his shoulders, clinging to him.
When he was fully inside, Damon dropped his head, panting. “You okay?”
Marco’s ass was tight around his cock, bringing him to the brink of coming.
“Yes. Fuck me.”
Damon withdrew and then thrust in again. He started slow, conscious that he couldn’t pound into Marco the way he wanted to—not at first. But soon Marco was groaning and demanded that he fuck harder, deeper. Damon dropped his body closer to Marco’s, rubbing the other man’s cock with his belly each time he thrust.
“I’m going to come,” Damon said.
“Don’t stop,” Marco pleaded.
Damon reached between them and grabbed Marco’s cock, playing with the head as he continued to fuck him. The pressure was mounting in his balls, and Damon couldn’t hold back. He was slamming into Marco’s ass, fucking him hard and rough while he tugged his cock.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Damon arched his back, holding himself deep inside Marco as he came. As he shuddered through his release, he stroked Marco’s cock until he too was groaning and Damon felt wetness on his belly.
Damon released Marco’s cock and braced himself on his elbows. They were both panting. His cock started to go soft and finally slipped from Marco’s ass. Damon rolled to the side and stared at the canopy.
“Holy shit.” It wasn’t the most articulate or poetic thing Damon had ever said post-sex, but it summed up his feelings. That had been the most intense sexual experience of his life.
Marco huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
The bed dipped as Tasha knelt between them. She was biting her lip and her pupils were dilated. “I changed my mind. I want to be in the middle.”
~~~~
Chapter Ten
Damon leaned against the wall, watching as Marco seduced Tasha. They were sitting on the bed, Tasha leaning slightly away as if she still weren�
�t sure she was ready. Damon had bowed out, not wanting to hurt or scare her. Plus, he needed some recovery time.
Marco eased the sweater off her shoulders, baring her arms. Though he’d seen Tasha essentially naked, the sight of even that little bit of flesh was tantalizing.
Damon took a step toward the bed. The movement startled Tasha, who twisted quickly away from Marco to look at him.
“Damon, why don’t you get us some water?” Marco jerked his head to the side, indicating that Damon should give the two of them some space. Damon looked down at himself—apparently he didn’t need as much recovery time as he thought. His cock was hard and his arm muscles clenched with the need to grab her. After the nearly brutal fucking he’d given Marco, Damon didn’t trust himself with Tasha, and he was worried he would scare her.
He grabbed his pants and underwear off the floor and pulled them on, hoping being half dressed would help him control himself. He went downstairs and grabbed their water glasses from the living room. Bracing his hands on the lip of the kitchen sink, he tried to get himself under control. All he could think about was Marco and Tasha together—the way they would look as their hands roamed over one another. Sticking his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, planning to play a game until he’d calmed and recovered enough to join Marco and Tasha without being a brute. He played a quick game of Dots and then checked his email out of habit.
There was a message in his work account from a friend in the Chicago DA’s office.
Thanks for the tip. Someone tried to sneak in to your friend’s sister’s room. Luckily the officer got them in time. Looks like she’s into some bad stuff. When she’s done detoxing we’ll interview her about what’s going on. Thinking she might be a mule.
Damon’s blood chilled. Tasha had been right. Someone had tried to get to Jennie. If he hadn’t started a process that got her police protection she might be dead.
He started to put his phone away—now wasn’t the time to be checking emails. He needed to go back up to his spouses. Then he’d make love with both of them. Everything else could and would wait.
He tapped his thumb against the side of his phone. The cold feeling in his gut couldn’t be ignored. Cursing himself, he opened his personal email.
Amid the junk was one titled I’m sorry, please meet me. It was from Sandra S.
Damon looked at the ceiling, knowing that in the bedroom upstairs Marco was wooing Tasha. That’s what was important. He closed his eyes, not wanting to open the email and see what it said. But avoidance wasn’t his way.
I’m so sorry I tried to blackmail you. I made a mistake—a terrible one. Please meet me. I need your help. I’ll give you back your phone, and I’ll give you the video. Meet me tonight at midnight. Please.
Damon read the email a second time, noticing that unlike the first time this correspondence was addressed to both him and Marco—their private email accounts. The address was in Chicago, and the email had been sent five hours ago. It was just past four now, meaning that if he was going to make that meeting he had under eight hours to get there.
Tasha touched his arm. Damon jumped and guiltily stuck his phone into his pocket. “Tasha, are you okay? Sorry,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’ve got the water. Why are you down here?”
“What happened?” Her gaze searched his face.
“What are you talking about? Nothing happened. I was just taking a break so I didn’t jump you.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” Tasha turned and walked out of the kitchen. Damon stared at her. How the hell had she’d known something was up?
“What the hell?” Marco stormed in, his semi-erect cock bouncing.
“We have a problem,” Damon said quietly. He read the email out loud.
“She sent it to me too?” Marco ran upstairs for his pants. When he came down he was looking at his phone. “We need to get back to Chicago. Don’t tell Tasha.”
“I think she suspects something is up. How did she know?”
“We were making out and then she just stopped, looked at the door and came down here. I thought she was coming to get you.”
“Maybe she was, but she walked in on me reading this damned email.”
They went in search of her and found her in a bedroom on the first floor. It was the girliest room Damon had ever seen. The bed was covered with a pretty pastel quilt and there were paintings of flowers and sunsets on the walls. The headboard was white wicker, as was the vanity, which was covered in pretty glass figurines and perfume jars. The only jarring note was the black rolling suitcase open on the bed. Tasha was dressed in black slacks, an expensive-looking gold blouse and a knee-length fitted black coat. She went into the closet, pulled out a large tub, flipped open the top and selected a few items, tossing them into the suitcase.
“Tasha? What are you doing?” Marco asked.
“We need to go if we’re going to make that meeting.”
Damon cursed mentally. “What meeting?”
She paused, looked up and raised one brow.
He sighed. “How did you know?”
“I cloned your email. Marco’s too. Everything you get I can see.”
“Excuse me?” Damon frowned. “That’s seriously illegal. And an invasion of my privacy.”
Tasha zipped the suitcase. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted. I was anticipating this, but after the whole marriage thing…” She looked irritated. “It was an amateur mistake.”
She set the suitcase down and headed for the door. Damon blocked her exit. “You’re staying here.”
Tasha tipped her head to the side. “I know you’re not serious.”
“I am. Deadly. I meant what I said. We’re going to protect you.”
She smiled, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “That’s sweet but stupid. It’s my job to protect you.”
“Damn it, Tasha.” He held his position, refusing to let her pass.
“Move, Damon.”
“No.”
“You’re not going to like this,” she warned.
“Like what?”
She grabbed his thumb and jerked it back. His whole arm bent at a funny angle and he jumped to the side to relieve the pressure on reflex. Damon rubbed his hand and narrowed his eyes as she walked past. Marco held up his hands in a surrender pose and got out of her way.
She looked over her shoulder. “I need you ready in under ten minutes.”
Damon looked at Marco—his friend, now his lover. Marco shrugged then headed upstairs. Eight minutes later, they were prepared to leave. Tasha took the key from Damon and they piled into the rental car.
*****
Six hours later, they were back in Marco’s condo. Damon was feeling vaguely sick. They’d gotten up at four that morning in order to catch the first flight out of Boston. Most of the day had been spent traveling. The conversation they’d had in Tasha’s house, followed by the sex, seemed like a dream.
Damon collapsed onto the couch. “Fuck, I’m tired. I feel like it’s been a week since we were in Boston. Was that only yesterday?”
“No. It was this morning. We should eat something.” Marco dropped down next to him.
Damon wrapped his arm around Marco’s shoulders and kissed his temple. He did it without thinking, and it was only when he pulled back and saw Marco’s surprised expression that he realized what he’d done.
He started to move his arm, but Marco caught his hand. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s nice.”
*****
Tasha watched them cuddling on the couch and smiled sadly. It was nice to see them physically expressing the feelings she knew they had for each other. She reminded herself that this was what she wanted—to be part of a trinity in which the other two were the core of the relationship and she was an add on. That was safest for all of them. Part of her regretted urging them to form a sexual relationship that didn’t involve her. She hadn’t expected them to be so comfortable together. She hadn’t wanted to be a
sex-prop, existing only for them to have a way to touch each other. But in reality, it may have been her only way into their relationship. There was nothing she could do about it now—the hand was played.
She’d have to worry about it later. Right now she had less than three hours before the rendezvous. The email supposedly came from the missing redhead Sandra, but the trace she’d placed on the email had it coming from an IP in Singapore.
The address for the meeting was in the alley beside the BDSM club. There was no way that was a coincidence—clearly whoever was pulling the strings was going to use the fact she’d IDed Jennie and been to the club to his advantage. Tasha had no doubt this was a setup, but she couldn’t see the end game yet and had no way to avoid it.
She’d been thinking about how best to approach tonight and decided they were going to go back in the same personas they’d used before. There might be some protection in the fact they would be noticed—Damon was probably barred from coming back, meaning there would be a scene when they tried to enter. Until she knew what was going on, Tasha wanted to give them the kind of protection eyewitnesses could provide.
She wasn’t sure they’d realized where they were supposed to rendezvous yet. Despite their race to the airport, neither man seemed overly concerned with what was supposed to happen.
Giving them space, she went to the spare bedroom and grabbed the gear they’d used before. She set out Damon’s leather pants and vest on Marco’s bed in the master bedroom and then selected a suit from his closet and laid that out too. She’d packed club-appropriate clothes for herself, including her favorite corset. Though it looked stiff it was actually fairly malleable, meaning she’d be able to bend and run if needed. And in the best spy tradition, there were pockets hidden along the boning that allowed her to tuck in a small knife, a high-powered audio recorder and a vial of LSD. It was nice to be prepared. She put on a long-sleeved high-neck fishnet shirt and then the corset. In contrast to her relatively covered top, she opted for black pleather panties that cut across the cheeks of her ass, leaving the lower curves exposed. She removed some of the heavy makeup she was wearing, letting the bruise on her face show, and then layered on gray shadow and black eyeliner.