Make Mine Midnight

by Annmarie McKenna

  He nodded, his fingers trailing down her arms, setting off little frissons of desire throughout her body.

  Mason Ledbetter? No way. No way in hell. Mason Ledbetter from high school had been scrawny and nerdy and…and…just like her. Mason Ledbetter had not been a drool-worthy, captain-of-the-football-team, muscly god, tie-me-to-a-bed-and-have-your-way-with-me-right-now type of man—boy.

  Claire closed her eyes and counted to ten. If she remembered right, Mason had been best friends with another persona non grata. Hunter…what was his name?

  “So that would probably make you—”

  “Hunter Morris, sweetheart.”

  Holy chimoly. Mason and Hunter were no longer the geeky boys from high school. They were honest-to-goodness, please-take-me-to-bed men.

  Apparently they were still best friends. So this wasn’t about wanting her. This was reconnecting with a high school friend, er, acquaintance. Please God, don’t let it be about showing her how much they’d changed while she still looked the same as she had on graduation day. Wouldn’t that be a great capper to the evening? She’d been making Mason a hero and he only wanted to show off.

  She had to be wrong. Had to.

  Because she’d never heard of a reunion complete with erections.

  Claire felt damn near perfect in Mason’s arms. Based on the expression on Hunter’s face, his friend felt the same.

  “Mason? Really?” The awe in Claire’s voice said she clearly didn’t believe him. He chuckled and forced himself not to nibble the delicate lobe. Dark blue eyes glittered back at him, her cheeks flushed in excitement.

  His cock throbbed. It wasn’t time yet. He hardly thought she’d take kindly to being thrown over his shoulder and marched off for sex. He’d have to move things a tad slower.

  “Really.”

  “But how…? What…? Why…?”

  “College did a lot more for us than give us degrees.” Hunter’s lips curled into a grin over her shoulder.

  “Damn.” Claire’s shoulders deflated. “I went to the wrong school.”

  Mason laughed out loud and hugged her tight like she was a long-lost friend. If they had their way, she’d be a whole lot more than a friend by morning.

  “You most certainly did not. You’re just as we remember.”

  “Exactly. You guys look…wow, and I…” She glanced down her body. “I am the same.”

  “Right. Beautiful never goes away.” Mason tipped her chin so she had to look at his face. He didn’t want her to think for one second he was teasing.

  She snorted. “Let me guess. In order to get sexy you had to sacrifice the eyesight.”

  “Damn. I see you’re still as stubborn as ever.” Mason tucked some loosened strands of hair behind her ear.

  Hunter leaned closer to that ear. “Even if you don’t see it, we do.”

  She frowned. “Just how did you get invited to this anyway? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

  “We work with Paul.”

  “Well that makes sense. You two always were computer ner— I mean, you were into computers. Only into electronics. So that’s one thing that hasn’t changed, huh? I imagine you get along quite nicely with Paul then.”

  “Paul’s been a good friend, yes.” More than Paul would ever know, since somehow fate had stepped in and made Paul a conduit in reconnecting Claire with them.

  “He speaks very highly of you,” Hunter murmured, nuzzling her cheek.

  Claire shivered at the touch, but didn’t push away. Mason counted that in their favor.

  “Paul has a big mouth.” Did he imagine the breathy tone in her voice?

  “We’ll thank him later.” Mason grasped her hand and put it on his shoulder.

  “Thank him for what?”

  “Leading us back to you.” Hunter gripped her hips from behind.

  Mason had wanted to take things slowly but his body had other ideas.

  Unable to hold off any longer, Mason took her cheeks in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. Hunter held her up when her knees buckled.

  So sweet. She tasted of the loaded punch he’d seen her sipping. Mason had watched her drink and decided to step in before she had too much. He and Hunter wanted her completely sober for the night to come. Wanted her to remember every single detail of their first time together.

  He lifted his head to see Hunter’s lips making their way up the side of Claire’s neck, tasting her, teasing her with little kisses. She’d closed her eyes and the tip of her tongue darted out to the corner of her lips. Hunter finished by whispering something in her ear which made Claire’s cheeks burn fire-engine red and her eyes shoot open. She stared at Mason, her breath coming in pants, making her perfect breasts move against his chest.

  Mason caressed her cheek with his thumb.

  “What did he say?” Her voice squeaked. At some point she’d grabbed onto the shirt at Mason’s waist, and now her hands were fisted in the material. Well damn. He and Hunter had made her nervous. Something they hadn’t intended on doing.

  But, beyond the nerves, there was something else written on her face. A spark of interest? A hint of desire? More than a hint. Her heart beat hard against his chest, her nipples stabbed at him through their shirts as the three of them swayed to the music. The rest of the party ceased to exist.

  Hunter’s mouth returned to mapping out whatever skin he could reach, and Claire tilted her head to allow him access. Mason slipped a hand between them and cradled one delicious palm-sized mound. He thumbed at a distended peak, triumphing when a moan escaped past Claire’s lips.

  “Let us take you home tonight, Claire,” he murmured in the ear not currently being feasted on by Hunter’s still-roaming tongue. “Let us make love to you.”

  She stiffened between them, alternately thrusting forward against Mason’s cock and then back into Hunter’s. He prayed he hadn’t scared her off by moving so fast.

  “I’m dreaming.” Her whispered words had him grinning again.

  Hunter lifted Claire’s hair and tasted the skin at the back of her neck. He wanted more. Wanted to strip her naked and lower her to the floor where he could taste the rest of her. Since Mason had hold of her right breast, Hunter went for the left, lifting its slight weight and lightly pinching the taut bud.

  They had her pinned between them, and with Hunter’s back to the rest of the party, he was pretty sure no one could tell they were doing anything other than slow dancing.

  “Mmm…” Her head fell onto his shoulder, and he bet if her eyes were still open they’d be rolled back.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, breathless.

  “Ten years is a long time to wait for something, Claire.”

  “Ten—”

  “Years.” Mason rotated his hips and pressed against her.

  With her legs wobbling so much, Hunter was certain if he stepped back, she’d fall on her sweet little ass. An ass he hoped like hell to be entering before morning. He wondered if she practiced what she wrote or if she only played at being kinky in her writer persona. If he knew anything at all about their Claire, he had a feeling she only played with kink in her fantasies. They’d go slow but they would win her over.

  “I’m drunk.” Claire dropped her chin to her chest. “So stinking drunk I’m imagining being in a manwich. This is so not fair.”

  Hunter shifted to her side and lifted her chin. “You are not drunk, I can assure you. No way would we have let you imbibe more than you did. We want you sober.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “For what, exactly?”

  “For what we’ve both been waiting for.” Mason kissed her again, this time deeper. Hunter watched his friend’s tongue invade Claire’s mouth, watched as Claire returned the kiss. His cock jerked. Watching Mason and Claire together made his mouth water and his balls tighten. Reality was definitely proving to be better than the imagination.

  Somewhere in the background the partygoers started shouting. “Ten, nine, eight…”

  “It’s almost the new year.�
� Hunter licked delicately at Claire’s ear. “Let us take you home and make it special.”

  “Five, four…”

  “Uh-huh.” Claire nodded and Hunter wanted to pump his fist in the air.

  “Two, one, Happy New Year!”

  Hunter turned her around in his arms and savored her mouth, tasting the punch, her sweetness, reveling in the softness of her lips. “Auld Lang Syne” serenaded them for a brief moment before fading into the background. Nothing else mattered but the woman in his arms, the scent of her hair tickling his nose, the feel of her skin under his palms, the desire in her eyes when they’d said they wanted to take her home.

  Mason cleared his throat next to him, an indication that the man wanted another turn too. Hunter sighed against Claire’s lips and rubbed his tongue along hers one last time before surrendering his prize.

  Her lips were puffy and red, thoroughly ravaged when Mason finally retreated. She sagged between them, her forehead settling on Mason’s chest.

  Hunter grasped her nape and caressed her with his fingers.

  It was time to take Claire to bed, to make her completely theirs.

  Chapter Three

  She’d melted. Somewhere on Paul’s floor was a pile of her goo. Paul would have to suck her up with a wet-dry vac and pour her down the drain.

  This was the best damn dream she’d ever had, that was for sure. As soon as she woke up she’d have to write every scrap of this down so she didn’t forget. Because she was fairly certain they didn’t know about her writing, Mason and Hunter would never know how prominently they featured in the creation of her next heroes. Talk about a female wet dream. Mason and Hunter were all hers for the night. For the first time in her life, Claire was going to be greedy and take what she wanted.

  “Are you ready?” Mason’s question rumbled through her.

  Was she? She had no clue since she’d never been with two men at once. Her previous experiences with just one man at a time were few and far between, but no way would she let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

  And it wasn’t like they were strangers. While they hadn’t necessarily been best friends, Claire had known who they were. She didn’t have a clue why they’d chosen her now and she didn’t particularly care.

  Did that make her a slut?

  She sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “I’m ready.” Time to actively practice what she wrote about on a daily basis. Maybe she’d even learn something new. Pretty damn likely she’d learn something new.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Mason’s hand settled at her waist and Hunter’s at her elbow. A nervous shiver shook her core. Was she really doing this?

  They met Paul at the door.

  “Paul.” Mason shook hands with the host. “Thanks for having us.”

  Claire couldn’t be positive but she thought she saw a knowing look pass between the two men. Paul had most definitely been a part of getting her together with Mason and Hunter. She’d decide later whether to thank him or kill him.

  Hunter nodded his echoed sentiments.

  “You made the night sizzle, to say the least,” Paul cooed. “Don’t worry, I’ll say your goodbyes for you.”

  “Thanks.” Mason nudged her again.

  “Paul?” Claire halted in the doorway, not allowing Mason to shove her through.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “What do you know about this?”

  Paul winked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She glared at him and didn’t even try to resist the gentle nudge from behind.

  “I want the whole scoop later, sweetie,” Paul called after them as Mason and Hunter practically frogmarched her down the hall to the stairwell. There were no slow feet, no stopping or pausing, just a straight, quick arrow to the stairs. Two short flights down had them on the next floor where they proceeded to continue down the hall like they’d done so a million times. Like she had so often. Before she could say a word, they stopped right in front of 13A.

  Interesting since she’d never given the directions. They should have had to ask where she lived, not known how to take her right to her front door.

  Her suspicion rose again. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Paul.” Hunter felt her jeans pockets and victoriously extracted her set of keys.

  “I knew that man had a big mouth, but damn. He told you everything, didn’t he?”

  “Don’t get mad at the middleman, sweetheart.” Hunter pecked her cheek as he fumbled the key in the lock then pushed open the door to her place.

  “I still want to know what’s going on.”

  “Later,” Mason growled in her ear. Literally growled. “Time for talk later. We need to see you, want to touch you, taste you.”

  Claire wondered if it were possible for one’s heart to actually explode. The thing was beating so hard surely it was close.

  “And what if I don’t want to do those things?” The act of defiance pretty much fell flat. She knew it based on their twin predatory grins.

  “If you really didn’t want this, you’d go inside and slam the door in our faces. One thing we remember for certain about you is your stubbornness.” Hunter turned serious and touched her cheek. “If there’s anything we do that scares you or you don’t want, just tell us. We’ll back off.”

  They would. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. They wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe leave her heart crushed in a million pieces when they left, but they wouldn’t physically hurt her. They weren’t that kind of men. Not ten years ago, and she could see they still weren’t.

  What could she say to that? She nodded and stepped inside, letting them follow her in. Not want this? Pfft. The door sounded with what seemed like an ominous click and then Hunter spoke again.

  “Take off the shirt, Claire. I can’t wait to see you.” Mason’s hands fisted and she wondered if he were trying not to pounce on her. His expression clearly showed he wanted to do just that.

  She swallowed and reached for the hem of her shirt, revealing inch by inch of smooth, creamy skin in an almost provocative dance. Where her inner vixen suddenly came from she didn’t know and didn’t particularly care. When her bellybutton appeared, Mason dropped to his knees and placed a kiss on the indentation. The act startled her and Claire bumped back into the wall. Mason took advantage. He held her hips and kissed a circle around her navel, tickling her into a rush of giggles.

  Beside her, Hunter groaned. Because he wanted to do the same thing? Damn, she wished she had a better handle on all things sex in real life, not just in the written word.

  A moment later, Mason backed off, a silly grin on his face. “Sorry.”

  She had a feeling he wasn’t. “Right.”

  “Off.” The impatience she remembered Hunter having shone through in spectacular fashion.

  “Geez. It’s not my fault I was interrupted.” Claire shimmied the shirt up, reaching her arms to the ceiling to remove it, but before she could take it completely off, Hunter grabbed her bound arms and kept them raised above her head. As a result, her face was covered by the material as well. “Hey.”

  “Stay.” Hunter had been reduced to one-word grunts, which made a thrill go through her.

  A mouth latched on to one of her silk-bra-covered nipples, puckering the bud tight before the cup was pulled below her breast. Fingers manipulated her other mound. Claire’s knees wobbled and someone pressed her into the wall.

  Her nipple was sucked deep into a hot, wet mouth and then a tongue wrapped around it. Teeth bit gently and Claire cried out into the fabric of her shirt. She’d never experienced such a sensation, the sharpness of teeth followed by the soothing lap of a tongue. The clip between her breasts popped open with deft fingers and the cups fell to her sides, leaving her practically naked from the waist up except for the bunch of fabric around her face. She knew her nipples were standing out from her small breasts, and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought abo
ut being embarrassed but couldn’t summon the energy when what the two men were doing to her nipples felt so damn good.

  “Sheeeesh.” Claire’s legs buckled on a particularly strong suck.

  She squealed when Mason laughed and scooped her up in his arms. “Where’s the bedroom, baby?”

  “Down the hall.” The shirt still shrouded her face but try as she might she couldn’t wiggle loose. She had a feeling Mason wanted it that way.

  Light filtered through the hole at the top and she wondered what they thought of her scrawny apartment as they lit the rooms one by one. She knew what they’d find in her room. The walls were dark red—whore red she called it—the comforter plaid in a matching shade of red mixed with browns and navy. Not very girly, but then she wasn’t a very girly kind of girl. A touch of makeup on the dresser, a few simple dresses and a bit of jewelry were about as feminine as she got.

  There was a shuffling sound and then the world spun as Mason turned and laid her on the bed. Her bare back on soft sheets told her the shuffling had been Hunter pulling off the comforter.

  “Can I take this off now?” She squirmed in an attempt to extract herself. Who knew it’d be so hard to get your shirt off when you really wanted it off?

  “I don’t know, Hunt, I kind of like her blindfolded.”

  Claire stilled, her heart racing. Blindfolded? As in not being able to see? Anything?

  She’d written the scenario lots of times. And the idea of doing it here and now made her clit throb in excitement. But still, if she didn’t at least pretend like the idea scared the shit out of her, what would they think of her? That she did this sort of thing all the time?

  She fumbled out of the shirt. Her glasses came off with the material, and she eyed their blurry forms. “What do you mean?”

  Hunter pulled a black, silky-looking scarf from his back pocket and showed it to her. “A little something to force you to feel, sweetheart.”

  “Do you always carry little black scarves in your pocket, Hunter?”

  “I like to be prepared.” His lips split into a sexy smile that made her belly flip-flop.