by Gia Dawn
Ty was waiting for her by the limo, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned idly against the car. “Ready?” His voice was as rough as the scars that ran down his neck and covered both his hands, the tissue so thick it made his fingers curl in upon themselves.
“Ready.” Kiera gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder as he opened the door and seated her next to him in the front seat. She had known Ty nearly as long as she’d known Manette, way before his service in the French Foreign Legion and the massive injuries he’d sustained while fighting in Afghanistan.
She’d had a terrible crush on him back in the day but had never taken him as a lover. His proclivities in the bedroom had seemed dangerous and foreign when she was younger, although after watching Jason and Marco she doubted anything would surprise her now.
“Did you eat today?” Ty pulled around to the backdoor of the restaurant as he punched a number into his cell. He placed an order for a steak and baked potato, much more than Kiera could possibly eat. “You can finish it off tomorrow,” he told her when she opened her mouth to argue.
“Thank you,” she said instead.
“You need someone to take care of you, ma cherie. Someone to tell you when to eat, when to work, when to have pleasure and when to sleep.”
Kiera snorted as Ty tried to pull his dominant side on her—a fantasy she had never bought into. “For your information, not every woman needs a master.”
“Non,” he agreed, one corner of his mouth twisting up into the semblance of a smile. “I am learning that some need two.”
Kiera refused to rise to the bait. “What do you think the sisters at Saint Mary’s would think of my exhibition tonight?” She gnawed her lip as she thought of the thoroughly sexual nature of her latest paintings, the kink level high enough to make her blush if she let herself dwell on the details. It had taken both Manette and Ty several weeks to talk her into showing the work, and even then she had only agreed because Zayne Saladar had insisted, giving her the option of donating a portion of the proceeds to his new women’s health center where they would be earmarked for psychological services.
Ty shrugged. “There is no shame in exploring sexual fantasies, no matter what was beaten into your head as a child.”
She supposed he had a point. Although her childhood at the orphanage had not been abusive, it had not been normal in any sense of the word.
Ty rolled down the window as the chef brought out the food, handing her the bag before putting the car in gear. “I would be happy to stay and make sure you eat,” he threatened with a smile that promised a whole lot more. “Or I could find your new friends to take over the task, non?”
“Non,” Kiera answered without humor. “Don’t you dare do anything remotely Dom-like. That’s not my bag…remember?”
“So you say, ma petite, so you say.” But she knew he didn’t believe her as he drove the rest of the way in silence.
Chapter Two
“Is she watching?” Two days later Marco saw Jason squinting at the window, careful to remain out of sight himself.
“Yeah, she’s watching all right.” Marco moved to stand in full view of their reclusive neighbor, pulling off his shirt to give her a better view. He even did the stupid which-way-to-the-beach bodybuilder pose, rippling the muscles in both his arms. “If she’s gonna watch, she’d better hold on, ’cause we’re gonna give her a night to remember.” He grinned and bent to grab a beer from the fridge, making certain his jeans slid down to show the crack of his ass. “Enjoy the view, Miss Sunshine.”
But he frowned as he popped open the beer. He’d been worried about Jason since his friend had received a message last month informing him of his parents’ deaths. While they hadn’t been in contact for years, Marco knew their loss had taken its toll. Family was family no matter how far apart. And death took away all hope of reconciliation.
Jason had also pulled back in their physical encounters, even preferring to watch while Marco took over—not a good sign of his mental health. So it had come as a welcome surprise when his buddy had taken a decided interest in their voyeuristic neighbor, especially once the men had figured out who she really was.
Now Jason had an outlet for his bottled-up emotions, and the mysterious Kitty Sunshine was proving to be a delicious distraction.
Jason shook his head as he bent to grab a beer of his own. “This is not good, you ass. I’ve been doing some research at the station, and I’m pretty certain you’re gonna be floored by what I found.” He motioned for Marco to follow as he sat down at the kitchen table and booted up his laptop. The picture of a woman with curly brown hair and hazel eyes appeared on the screen.
Marco gaped at her for a long time. “She’s gorgeous, bro.” Without her bizarre wigs and costumes she possessed a beauty that had both men mesmerized.
“I know. I couldn’t believe it myself until I verified it at the station.”
“Who’d you have to fuck to get her files?” Marco wiggled his brows but Jason only grimaced.
“Called in a favor. You remember Lucy?”
“That gorgeous blonde with the boobs to die for?”
“Yep. Seems she was more than pleased with our performances the last time she was over.”
Marco laughed and held out his fist. Jason bumped it, finally managing the ghost of a smile. They’d shared their very first woman the year they turned eighteen. Not having enough money on their military salaries to pay for two high-class call girls they’d decided on one, had the time of their lives and never looked back.
It had become second nature to them now, although the string of one-night stands was growing lame. Problem was, they had yet to find a woman who wanted both of them on a long-term basis. But lately they’d been looking just the same.
“Kitty Sunshine,” Jason stated for the record, “aka Kiera Shriner, our very naughty next-door neighbor.”
“Damn.” Marco swallowed half his beer. “I never thought we’d actually get this close to her. Remember the line at Comic-Con the last time we went? Had to stand in line for hours just to get her autograph.”
“Which you refused to do,” Jason reminded him. “Our one chance to get her signature and you blew it, dude.” He looked over to where their solitary Kitty Sunshine painting sat on an easel in the corner of the living room. An original. They’d spent a small fortune on the canvas at an auction just before Kitty had hit the major leagues. They’d been lucky to score the work even then. Similar paintings today ran into the high five figures—money their firefighter and police salaries couldn’t come close to financing. “And we’re not nearly close enough yet. She promised us another painting, remember? Well, my friend, I have a different option in mind.”
Marco liked the sound of that. “Do tell.”
“We’re gonna commission the lovely artist to paint us live…if we ever get around to the painting part.” Jason’s grin was another good sign.
Marco stared across the lawn, trying make out her figure in the dark. “So how did she come to live here in our run-down part of the world?”
Jason’s expression darkened once more. “She had a break-in in New York. The creep stole several of her paintings before he burned her studio to the ground.” He tapped a command into the computer and brought up a series of photos of the crime. “She lost thousands of dollars of work.”
“Bastard.”
“That’s not the worst part. He also roughed her up pretty good.” Jason frowned at the screen. “Two broken ribs, a lacerated shoulder and a mild concussion. Plus that nasty gash on her wrist. She almost bled out before she managed to crawl out of the fire.”
“So Kit—Kiera packs up and moves south where she barely steps foot out of her apartment and takes to spying on us like Alice Through the Looking Glass.”
“Whoa, major literary reference coming from an army grunt like you.”
“Ex-grunt,” Marco amended. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, bro. You carried your shit and ate just as much sand as I did in Iraq. Did they
catch the fucker?” Marco crunched his beer can and tossed it into the trash before grabbing the laptop and turning it toward him. When he finally saw the photos his mood turned as sour as Jason’s.
Jason got up to grab them two more beers. “Yep. He’s on a long-term vacation at Rikers.”
“So she doesn’t have any reason to still be afraid to step foot out the door.” Marco fought the urge to reach out and touch her cheek on the screen.
“She admitted hating public appearances even before the break-in. Said that conventions and exhibitions made her sick days ahead of time. It’s obviously gotten worse since then.”
As Jason moved to stand by the window once more, Marco remembered how lonely and frightened she’d seemed at her latest exhibition the other night. Even in the midst of the crowd of admirers she had stood alone in a corner of the room, barely able to make conversation without her nerves getting the best of her.
“I suggest we take care of that.”
“Agreed. I’ll go call Manette Brisson.” Jason grinned. “And then I think we ought to pay our neighbor a visit. Apologize for not making her acquaintance sooner and offer our…services…should she ever need an extra hand…or four. What’s your schedule like the rest of the week?”
“On Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Off Monday and Tuesday.”
“Perfect. I pulled first shift, so we have a couple of evenings free. That gives us time to work out a plan.”
Marco followed Jason’s lead and made his way back to the window, clapping his buddy hard on the shoulder. “And tonight we’ll give her an extra-special show—a preview of things to come, as it were.”
But neither man laughed. They stared out the window until they could make out her form, her hair a tumble of curls around her shoulders, her face a sad reflection in the glass as she stared back, trying desperately not to let them see.
“We want her,” Jason stated with a certainty.
“We will have her,” Marco answered, his jaw clenched so tight he could barely grit out the words.
They would put on their very best performance for Kiera, but neither of their hearts would truly be in the coming encounter. The true prize waited just outside their grasp and neither of them would be satisfied until they had the elusive beauty for their own.
* * * * *
Kiera could feel her anticipation building as she watched Jason and Marco get ready for the evening. She had her sketchbook in her hands, her easel set up, and she’d already checked to make certain her telescope was in perfect focus. They had started cleaning just after noon, opening the curtains to their playroom where she could see them change the sheets on the king-size bed, vacuum, lay out their toys and handcuffs and ties, replenish the stack of condoms in both bedside tables, and place clean towels in the adjoining bath.
They’d both stripped down to bare chests and cut-off shorts and their skin was sleek with sweat as they cleaned their way from the playroom through the rest of the house.
They’d ordered pizza for supper and downed the entire pie in ten minutes flat before heading off to their separate showers. It surprised her when they’d pulled out the computer, staring intently at the screen before looking in her direction once or twice, but Kiera shrugged off the incident. They couldn’t possibly know she was watching. She had been careful to keep her telescope tucked away at the edge of the window and she’d learned to sketch in the dimmest lighting possible.
To her abiding shame, she’d begun to crave their risqué escapades with an urge so strong it made her weak in the knees when she thought about what they would do with the lucky woman they invited over for the evening. Especially after having met them in their magnificent flesh at her exhibition.
Her body was already humming in arousal. Her breasts ached as she remembered their touch, their heat, their smell, the sting between her legs enough to make her want to scream in frustration.
But she refused to touch herself until after her work was finished. The frustration gave her paintings an edge. It made her brushstrokes bolder and her colors more vivid. In fact, her two sexy neighbors had been instrumental in reviving her career, although they would never know how much she’d come to depend on them for inspiration.
Marco was the firefighter and darker of the two. He was broader of shoulder and the more physical of the pair, using his strength to hold the woman stable as she writhed and bucked and screamed her pleasure. He had tattoos on both arms from shoulder to wrist, and while Kiera had been distracted by them in the beginning, she’d quickly learned to use them to add color and texture to her paintings.
Jason, the police officer, was taller by half a head and was master at the art of seduction. He was the one who made first contact, tugged the woman’s hair, forced her to her knees, peeled off her clothes. But lately he’d withdrawn, sometimes sitting out the entire encounter, and Kiera wondered what had happened to make him seem so tired and jaded. He hadn’t been that way at the exhibition, she remembered with another rush of hunger. He’d been bold and brash and full of dark promise.
She liked him that way.
Wanted them both that way.
It would be like being caught and caged by two master hunters. Kiera had all too often imagined herself as their latest conquest, both men pressed tight against her, curve to angle…hollow to hill. Chest and breast and thighs aligned.
And she’d always wondered at the sound of their voices, what they said that made the women so eager to please them over and over and over again. Did they ask or did they command? Did the women have any choice in their submission, or did they do exactly as they were ordered with no thought of anything except to please their two gruff masters?
With a sigh, Kiera went to check that her doors were bolted and locked tight against any intruders, still terrified to crack a window and let in the scented southern breeze. Even though their house was just across the street, Jason and Marco lived in a universe so far removed from hers they might as well be on another planet—one where light outweighed shadow and pleasure held strong against the kingdom of pain.
Get back to the real world, stupid.
Taking up her place by the window once more, Kiera frowned when she saw who their date was for the night. The woman had been with the men before and wasn’t one of Kiera’s favorites. An obvious professional, she had breasts the size of honeydew melons, hair so long it was most certainly a weave, and a frame so thin she looked skeletal from most angles. Nothing about her was organic or original and Kiera could barely tolerate the sight of her heroes taking such obvious pleasure in someone so unworthy of their efforts.
Like they would find you more to their liking. A freak who can barely walk out the door. How could they possibly find pleasure with you?
Her knees began to shake as she berated herself, all her old fears coming to the surface, her fingers curling into claws that refused to take up pencil and pad as she continued to curse herself for a fool.
That’s all in the past, you idiot. She ordered herself back to the present. Now get to work before they finish without you.
Already the woman was down on her knees with one hand wrapped around each man’s cock, her head bobbing from one to the other as she sucked them each in turn, their erections growing to full and dazzling length. Ignoring the woman completely, Kiera concentrated on the play of muscle beneath the men’s skin, the intensity in their eyes and the way their jaws clamped shut as they forced themselves not to come too soon.
How should she picture them this time on canvas?
In sudden inspiration, she saw the woman as a mermaid beneath the water, her too-long hair a tangle of seaweed that wrapped her prey, imprisoning them as she sucked them dry, their lives forfeit for their foolish and fleeting pleasure.
In the background another woman looked on in horror, beautiful in the plates of armor that barely covered her dusky skin, sword held high as she readied to free her lovers from the mermaid’s evil hold. The men’s expressions showed they knew they had transgressed, promising
their avenging warrioress unspeakable delights after she took pity and saved them.
The scene formed quickly in Kiera’s mind, the canvas covered with shades of blue and green and rust, water and sky and setting sun a fitting backdrop for their struggle for survival.
Finally putting her sketches to the side, Kiera began to imagine herself in the real scene being played out before her. She was the one being held by Marco, his fingers clamped hard around her nipples while Jason knelt between her legs, forcing her thighs apart as he pressed his tongue into her core.
She gasped when Marco hauled her to the bed, throwing her down on the sheets before he grabbed a condom and slid it in place, taking her while Jason watched with hungry eyes.
Then Marco used his fingers to torture her clit as he continued to drive her to the edge of reason. He came with a grunt of satisfaction, ramming into her with a final shudder before he pulled out and Jason mounted her, thrusting slower but just as deep while Marco bent his head to her breasts and scraped her nipples between his teeth.
Now it was her turn to cry in release, her body coming to a shuddering climax as Jason drove her to completion. He slid into her a final time before collapsing beside her, both men whispering words of praise as they held her like precious cargo between them.
And then it was over. Kiera moved closer to the window where the men were bidding their guest good night, smiling as she walked on wobbly legs to the cab pulled up at the curb. She hadn’t stayed very long, Kiera thought with satisfaction. Bored them senseless after they’d come the first time.
Not that it did a thing to ease her desire. Her body ached to be touched. Her heart longed to be taken. Even her spirit called out to the pair, begging them to come and save her from her solitude.
She froze when they turned and stared in her direction, their faces dangerous and determined, almost as if they knew she was watching and had vowed to make her pay for the crime. For long seconds they stood motionless, transfixed, before Jason bowed his head as if in acknowledgement and Marco pointed as if stating she was next on their list of conquests.