Galen lowered his head. The tip of his tongue brushed her clit lightly, as if to wiggle the hood and expose it farther. As if it weren’t engorged and throbbing. Just that infinitesimal touch shook her body like an earthquake.
When she wiggled and reached for him, he said, “Uh-uh, pet. Hands over your head. No moving.”
She barely managed to smother a whine. Instead, obediently, she put her hands over her head, hearing the pleased sound Vance gave as the position pushed her breasts higher. Why couldn’t the bed frame have something to grab? Don’t move.
Galen glanced at Vance. “I don’t want to wait long; I need to be inside our girl.”
“Agreed.” Vance pushed her breasts together, licking each nipple between light nips that sizzled straight to her clit…which Galen had fastened his lips around.
Galen’s tongue teased the sensitized bundle of nerves up one side, down the other, rubbing in the same rhythm as Vance was using. After a second, she fought her way up long enough to know they were licking and sucking in time with the music. “I thought white guys didn’t have rhythm,” she said in a raspy voice.
“That’s rude, sweetheart.” Vance nipped her sharply.
“Ow.” She brought her hands down to cover her stinging nipple.
Vance raised his head, and the warning in his eyes stopped her, sent her arms back over her head.
Galen just laughed and pushed two fingers inside her. The feeling of thickness, of being filled was outrageously good, bringing back memories of his hand inside her, and making her blood boil with the increasing inferno.
To her relief—and regret—he didn’t increase the number of fingers. With his shoulders, he pushed her legs more widely apart and curved his fingers, probing until he hit a spot that dialed up the sensitivity of her clit into the thousands and the slightest touch of his tongue made her gasp. “That’s definitely the spot,” he murmured.
Before she could stop herself, she lifted her hips, trying to increase the friction.
He tsk-tsked in disapproval and slid his hand under her ass. His calloused palm rubbed over the fresh welts.
“Frigging hell!” The blast of pain shot straight into burning pleasure.
Even as Galen squeezed, increasing the blistering pain, Vance pinched her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure splashing into the liquid pool of need inside her.
Galen released her ass and pushed his fingers back into her vagina, pumping mercilessly, wakening nerves until her core coiled tight with need.
And as they both sucked—clit and nipples—everything inside her clamped down onto Galen’s invading fingers, increasing the feeling of the wonderful slide and penetration. The pressure grew and grew, not stopping, not pausing. Her breathing turned to ragged gasps. Her back arched as everything…tightened…and suddenly released in a rush of sensation so intense that she cried out. Wave after wave pulsed outward with mind-blowing pleasure.
Shimmering inside and out, she gave a sigh of sheer happiness and opened her eyes to see Vance smiling down into her face. He winked at Galen before taking her lips, kissing her deep and wet, ravaging her with his tongue, even while he mercilessly rolled her nipples between his fingers.
Galen’s mouth closed over her clit again, sucking in long, vigorous pulls. He forcefully pumped his fingers, over and over.
Before she could object—or even move—another orgasm slammed into her. She moaned into Vance’s mouth, and his kiss gentled, as if he were drinking in her pleasure.
As she flattened onto the bed in a comfy postorgasm glow, he rubbed his nose along hers and murmured against her lips, “Breathe while you can, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
Without answering, he rolled off the bed and stripped off his jeans. His cock was rigid, straining upward, and she rolled toward him…just wanting to touch.
Instead, he yanked her out of bed, backed her against the door.
“Vance, what are you doing?” Her head was spinning, and her knees started to buckle.
He caught her around the waist.
WASN’T SHE JUST the prettiest sight after she’d come a couple of times? Smiling, Galen removed his jeans, rolled a condom over his painfully distended shaft, and lubed it up.
And watched the show.
“Up you go, sweetie.” With a grunt, Vance lifted Sally. As he pressed her shoulders against the door, she instinctively put her legs around his waist, making it easy for him to slide right into her cunt.
“Oh God.” Her eyes closed, and her expression of pleasure was so lovely that Galen savored it, storing it in memory to enjoy later.
“Fuck, you feel good, Sally. Now hang on to me.” As Vance pressed her harder into the door, she put her arms around his neck. After a few hungry thrusts, which Galen couldn’t begrudge him, he secured his grip on the back of her thighs and turned, putting a sweet little asshole out and available. “Come and get it, bro.”
Galen grinned at him, positioned himself behind her and kissed her neck.
Her head jerked up as his slick fingers traced the rim of her back hole. He slid in one finger, then another, stretching her. Preparing her.
Vance pulled out, holding her steady, and moved his hands on her butt cheeks so he could pull her open as well as holding her up. Her squeak at the contact of his palms on her welts made him chuckle.
Laughing at the tiny annoyed growl from their submissive, Galen set his shaft against her asshole. He slowly worked through the tight little ring of muscles. Easing in and out.
Her fingers clamped onto Vance’s shoulders, her head was up, neck rigid. She still couldn’t take a cock easily, and he could feel tremors of anxiety running under her skin.
With an unheard pop, the head of his cock made it past the rim. He surged in steadily, feeling her engulf him. Her ass provided less snugness than her cunt, but the squeezing as the constricting ring of muscle slid down his shaft was very, very good.
A second later, Vance worked his dick back in, and the pressure was almost overwhelming.
Not just to him. Sally gave a little mew and buried her head in the curve of Vance’s neck.
Vance’s gaze met Galen’s, sharing the pleasure.
As Galen slowly pulled back, Vance slid deeper.
So their little submissive didn’t get too accustomed to their habits, Galen listened to the music on the radio for a second and held up his hand. Index finger, index finger, thumb.
Vance’s swift grin showed he realized the beat would give him twice as much fun. Gripping Sally’s ass firmly, he pumped smoothly twice, and pulled out as Galen plunged in hard.
They continued, thrusting in time with the music. Da-da-dum. Da-da-dum.
The increasing volume of Sally’s moans was a carnal joy, and she grew louder when Galen slid a hand around her so he could play with her breasts. Fuck, he loved the way she squirmed.
He managed to worm his other hand down to lay a finger against her clit, and her whole body stiffened. “Oh, oh, oh.”
Galen managed to hang on—barely—as her insides did a vise clamp on his cock. He saw Vance grit his teeth, fighting off his release as well.
But from the feel of Sally’s engorged clit, from the increasing clenching of her little ass around his shaft, she was close to coming again.
Da-da-dum. Da-da-dum. Galen wiggled his finger over her clit with each thrust. Sweat dampened his brow as he fought for control, as his body demanded he simply pound into her and get off.
But fuck, she felt good.
And he wanted to feel her get off while he was inside. Nothing was more intimate or rewarding.
His balls drew up against his groin, demanding release. Not. Yet.
And there she went. Sally’s body froze from her head to her toes, and she turned to a rigid statue in their arms. Even her breathing ceased.
She broke with a series of high mewling cries, and he felt the exhilarating pulse of her core around him.
As she slumped against his partner, Vance grinned, although the muscles in his face and neck w
ere taut from holding back, and his face was moist with sweat.
Go, Galen mouthed. He could hold on another minute. Maybe.
Vance’s fingers tightened on the imp’s striped little ass, and he started pumping forcefully. Sally moaned, rubbing her head against his shoulder as, with a long, low groan, he shoved in and came. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he whispered.
Galen couldn’t keep his smile back. It all felt fucking good. He loved seeing them both sweaty and satisfied. By God, he loved them.
Vance hauled in a breath and gave Galen a chin lift. Go.
Hell, yes. Sucking air, Galen worked in and out of Sally’s tight little asshole, then drove deep, deep inside, pressing in hard, enjoying the lingering clenching of her muscles as he went over the edge. A growl escaped him as his cock poured out heat in long, mind-bending blasts.
“Makeup sex.” Vance sighed, nuzzling the imp’s cheek. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Galen agreed as he pulled out. “Let’s fall onto the bed and sleep for a week.”
“Really?” Sally looked up and wrinkled her adorable nose. “Guess at your age it takes longer to rest than it does to get tired.”
Biting back a grin, Galen swatted her tender butt for the insult, getting a satisfying eep.
Old, my ass.
The imp was asleep before Vance even laid her down on the bed.
Chapter Eighteen
In the back of the taxi, Sally snuggled closer to Vance, resting her head on his shoulder. Seated in the front, Galen turned to smile at her before resuming his conversation with the driver about some scandal in the legislature.
Too bad the drive to Galen’s mom’s house wasn’t longer. A nap would really be nice. After all, the past couple of days had been pretty stressful. Breakup with two Doms, lose a father, gain a brother, get punished with a Jesus-help-me switch, and conclude with mind-boggling makeup sex.
She sighed. For a while after the breakup, she’d figured she could leave everyone behind and find a job in some remote corner of the world. A simple solution, if more than a bit lonely.
With the derailment of that plan, her yes-no questions were suddenly multiple choice. Like, okay, Galen and Vance said they loved her. What did that mean for the future?
And how could she handle a long-term relationship with two men? Hell, she hadn’t even been able to keep one Dom happy.
And if she could, what about marriage and babies and stuff?
And finding a job?
She rubbed her cheek on Vance’s shoulder, fortified by the slow sweep of his hand up and down her back. Eventually, she needed to sit down and figure out her future. So far, all they’d decided was that she’d return with them.
Jeez, but a girl sure had to be careful what she asked for. Two months ago, she’d been pining away for a Dom to love, and God had decided to gift her with two.
Maybe Glock was right, and God really was a cat, just toying with the human race.
But…her two Doms said they loved her.
If that wasn’t a miracle, she didn’t know what was. As her heart went all mushy, she leaned up to kiss the blunt angle of Vance’s jaw, inhaling the fragrance of his crisply sexy aftershave.
He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Oh sure…”
When he narrowed his eyes at her nonanswer, she scowled. “You can sure be a pain in the ass, Mr. Buchanan, Sir.”
“Yeah, and I can give you a definite pain in your ass, Miss Hart,” he growled. “Tell me. Now.”
“Fine.” Skipping over her vast field of problems, she plucked something from the miniworry garden. “I’m kinda paranoid about visiting Galen’s mom. She doesn’t sound very nice.”
“She won’t be rude, Sally. She’s just… Hmm. You know how cold Maine is in the winter?” His voice stayed low enough so Galen wouldn’t hear.
“Probably like Iowa.”
“Right. Well, Thea Kouros fits right in with the climate she lives in—chill enough to freeze your face off.”
“Oh lovely. And why are we visiting this woman?”
Vance chuckled. “If Galen is in this section of the country and has time, he stops by. About once a year.”
Once a year? Guess she couldn’t tease Galen about being a mama’s boy.
The taxi stopped in a neighborhood of elegant brick houses. The yards had been manicured with more fussiness than Gabi with her nails.
After climbing out of the cab, Sally looked around in disbelief. Who’d ever think that a man raised in a house like that could be so comfortable sitting on the back steps of a farmhouse?
Galen finished paying the driver and shut the cab door.
When he joined her, Sally gave him a nice squishy hug.
“What’s that for?” he asked, his expression a little distant as he looked over her head at his mother’s house.
“Because I like you. Maybe almost as much as I love you.”
The way his eyes turned soft and his mouth curved affectionately would probably sustain her through a battalion of ice mothers. Pulling her close, he rubbed his chin on her head. “You are a gift I never expected,” he said under his breath.
Oh hell. Once released, she had to turn away to swipe at her damp eyes.
With a wink of approval, Vance handed her a handkerchief and ruffled her hair…just so she’d have to laugh and hit him.
By the time they caught up to Galen, he had already rung the doorbell.
The door opened. Galen’s mother was around sixty, almost obsessively thin, hair colored to a rich brownish black, with eyes as dark as her son’s. “Galen, it was a surprise to hear from you.”
Oh boy, Vance was right. Darth Vader at his worst had shown more warmth. Sally frowned. Mrs. Kouros didn’t even appear to notice the bruising on his cheek and jaw. Jeez, most mothers would be busting with pride to have a son like Galen.
Of course, Sally’s father sure wouldn’t win parent of the year either.
Mrs. Kouros looked at Vance. “Vance, you’re looking well.”
Sure and he looks just fine. That knuckle-sized purple bruise on his face is from nicking himself shaving, right?
“Likewise, Thea,” Vance said easily. Trust Vance to not let anything upset him.
Sally was surprised when Galen tucked his arm around her. “Mother, this is Sally Hart. Sally, my mother, Thea Kouros.”
“How do you do,” Sally said, since the standard it’s nice to meet you simply wasn’t true.
“Quite well, thank you.” Thea’s eyes narrowed as if assessing how closely Galen was holding Sally. Her lips thinned even farther. “How nice you could accompany my son. Please come in.” She stepped back to let everyone enter.
Christ in a corset, if this was Galen’s role model growing up, no wonder he had trouble showing affection. The woman hadn’t even touched her son. As Sally walked past into a house that was as stiffly formal as its owner, she decided on a couple of things.
First. She was going to totally swamp Galen with loving—enough to make up for Popsicle Mama there.
Second. Visits to Maine were going to be very, very rare.
* * * *
Another day, another parent. Sally suppressed a sigh as Vance drove their rental car through Cleveland, Ohio, and out of the city into pretty tree-lined streets. His parents’ turn today.
She was liable to have a neurosis by the time she returned to Tampa.
They’d spent last night in Mrs. Kouros’s house in three separate bedrooms. And Galen had grown increasingly distant.
But this morning, she’d pounced on him in the shower. It would take a stronger man than Galen to stay uninvolved while having shower sex.
He’d been back to normal—even smiling—at breakfast, and the way Vance had looked at her had made her feel like a hero.
Hopefully, the Buchanans would be nicer. She just had to survive this afternoon, and then they’d be on their way to New York.
As they piled out of the rental car, Galen s
topped Sally. “Bring your laptop in, pet. If we have a moment, I’d like you to turn over the Harvest Association files.”
“I said I’d stop.” Hurt made her take a step away. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh, baby girl, it has nothing to do with trust.” He put his palm under her chin, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Since the crime is already committed, I thought I’d see if you picked up anything useful. Be a shame to waste all that illegal information.”
She smacked his arm. “You are so bad.”
“Ayuh.” He waited for her to pull her laptop out of the backseat.
They followed Vance up the sidewalk.
Here goes. As they approached the house, Sally braced herself for another set of disapproving eyes.
The door opened, and a swarm of children emerged.
“Vance. Galen!”
“Uncle Vance!”
“Unca Vance, hold me!”
The children, ranging from three to ten years old, were treating Vance and Galen like portable jungle gyms to be climbed. Sally grinned as Galen’s deep laugh joined Vance’s easy one.
“Oh my goodness, you’ll think we’re raising barbarians.” The woman in the doorway was probably the same age as Galen’s mother, but there the similarity ended. Chin-length dark brown hair, probably colored to hide the gray, no makeup, no jewelry. In jeans and a blue plaid top the color of her eyes, she gave Sally an entirely comfortable and welcoming smile. “You must be Sally.” She held her hand out. “I’m Bonnie, Vance’s mother.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sally took her hand, started to shake it.
“Ma’am? Oh heavens, what stories has that boy told you? I stopped beating him years ago. Really.” Still holding Sally’s hand, she pulled her into the house. “Come on in.”
Sally blinked, sputtered out a laugh, and stopped long enough to pick up a three-year-old who’d been left behind in the climb-a-Fed game.
* * * *
Lunch had been a production with overwhelming amounts of food. As usual, Vance’s sisters had each tried to outdo the others. After being the victim of too many oh-just-try-this-I-made-it maneuvers, Galen felt overfull and in dire need of a nap—which would undoubtedly set the imp off on a bout of old man jokes. Sally had listened wide-eyed as the gang went around the table, each taking a turn at reciting their recent activities. Vance and Galen had gotten grief about the bruising on their faces…and Sally hadn’t smothered her giggles very successfully.
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