Dutch and Travis did. They might not have loved her, but there was real affection in their touch and kisses. They’d taken care of her at the saloon as though she’d mattered…as if they would someday be friends.
Her heart opened even more, a dangerous matter, but she couldn’t help it. Mercy wanted to give them her all.
She rode Travis as Dutch rode her, a wanton act punctuated with the sounds lovers make. Uninhibited and joyous.
Travis’s cock thickened in her cunt, proving his arousal. Dutch was no different. He thrust carefully because of his increasing girth. It was an experience like no other. They’d trapped her body and freed her soul.
She suckled Travis’s tongue. He stoked her clit. A stab of pleasure made Mercy wiggle. Dutch’s steady pumps forced her to be still. Travis rubbed her nub again. She tensed, needing to cry out. He precluded it, muffling her cries with his impassioned kiss.
They were killing her.
It took all of Mercy’s concentration to glide her body up and down Travis’s shaft, coordinating her actions with Dutch’s invasion of her body. Travis didn’t make it easy, playing with her clit as he had at the table. Rubbing, stopping, rubbing again. Not giving her a chance to fall into an easy rhythm.
Mercy’s climax drew close only to fade, then build again with his maddening strokes.
She pulled her mouth free of his and gulped air. His hand paused on her nub, showing his displeasure. Even Dutch slowed then stopped. They wanted her to work for her climax. Needed her to require it more than anything else.
To prove what? That she wanted them?
How had she ever lived without their playfulness and attention? How could she go forward when her time here was up? When they’d moved on to other women.
Mercy trembled in frustration, sorrow quickly behind it. She pushed both emotions down and fitted her mouth to Travis’s, thrusting her tongue inside, claiming him.
He rewarded her with quick, hard strokes meant to fulfill rather than tease. Dutch drove into her faster and with more force. She mimicked their movements, alternately burying Travis’s rod deep within her sheath, then lifting her body until it was nearly free.
Dutch came first, gasping and groaning. Mercy followed, crying out her delight. Travis fought for control, pumping his hips against hers, lasting a few seconds longer. Sounds exploded from him then, a mixture of ecstasy and agony, as though he wanted more but couldn’t quite bear it. His deep, rich voice filled the small cabin, drowning out the other sounds.
Dutch pulled out of her and fell to the side. Mercy rested her head on Travis’s shoulder, rubbing her nose against his sweaty skin.
His chest bumped into hers with his unsettled breaths. She was tempted to remain where she was. However, there was her weight to consider, and the fact that she didn’t want to be separated from Dutch.
Mercy needed both men.
Rolling off Travis, she settled between them. They were too drowsy to do anything except breathe. Soon, they fell asleep. Fully sated.
Mercy envied them, wondering if she’d ever feel as they did now. Content with what they had. Not wanting something deeper.
She drifted off, questioning how much of this she could ultimately handle.
Someone suckling her nipples woke Mercy from a deep, dreamless sleep. Travis’s dark head was on her left. Dutch’s nearly shaved skull to the right. Sharing her boobs as they had her body.
God, what they were doing felt nice, sending ribbons of sensation from Mercy’s throat to her pussy, driving away everything except her desire for pleasure. She stretched out, pushing her chest toward them. They sucked harder, really getting into it, as though they’d been awake for some time.
The clock showed five past three. She hadn’t been asleep that long, though enough for them to have ditched the condoms. Dutch must have washed off. His skin smelled of her aloe soap. He slid his hand down her torso to her cunt.
Travis reached it first.
They didn’t battle over that part of Mercy, instead taking turns massaging her clit while tonguing her nipples. Holy mother of all that was sane. She’d been wet before. Now, she was freaking drenched. Their playing with her breasts and nub had her rocketing toward orgasm.
When Travis tried to deny her and drag it out, Dutch took over. Mercy squealed her approval, her body shaking like a wet dog. She drew her knees to her chest and tried to calm down. Travis and Dutch weren’t having it. They dragged her legs back to the floor and went at her clit again.
She choked on a swallow and coughed forcefully.
Neither of them seemed to notice her distress.
“No!” she finally shouted. “I can’t stand it. Stop.”
They didn’t.
“I mean it,” she cried. “It’s too much.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Dutch said.
How? She was close to passing out. Mercy pulled away from him and rolled into Travis. When she tried to sit up, both of them blocked her, not allowing escape. They stroked and teased her clit until she collapsed, unable to fight any longer. This climax tore through her with more power than the rest, leaving her limp and gasping.
Travis tossed a Trojan to Dutch but didn’t take one himself.
“Up you go,” Travis said, helping Mercy to her shaky knees.
She shoved hair out of her face and noticed his huge erection. Dutch was already behind her, raring to go. Needing no further direction, Mercy dropped to all fours, her mouth snuggled against Travis’s cock, ass lifted, legs spread wide for Dutch’s use.
He entered her cunt easily and fully, the same time as she took Travis into her mouth, opening her throat, drawing his length inside.
Both men made gratified sounds and luxuriated in her warmth, seemingly in no hurry to rush this. Seconds passed before Dutch wound one arm around her, settling his hand on her mound. Travis cupped her head. His thumbs stroked her cheeks.
Mercy’s eyes filled at the unexpected and endearing gesture.
Dutch was just as thoughtful, remembering to rub her clit even as his excitement grew.
Together, they worked Mercy, using her mouth and cunt for their own indulgence and hers. Taking care of her as she did them until they’d drained each other and everything faded to a velvety black.
The scent of bananas pulled Travis from a dream he couldn’t recall. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was. His aching butt and shoulders reminded him he’d fallen asleep on the floor. Gritting his teeth, he pushed to a sitting position.
The clock above the sink read four–forty. Still nude, Mercy sat at the table, her hair messy, movements sluggish as she added an ingredient to the huge bowl of her mixer. The appliance whirred away.
What in the hell was she doing?
Travis pushed to his feet. Sort of. He hunched over like an eighty–year–old man, everything hurting except for his cock. Straightened, he stifled a groan and padded to Mercy.
A glob of brownish–yellow goo was in the bowl. Looked awful. Smelled pretty good.
He rubbed her back. Turning off the mixer, she lifted her face to his and smiled.
Travis’s heart turned over at how young and vulnerable she looked. It wasn’t only her adorable freckles, but the mascara smudges beneath her eyes, her cheeks ruddy from his and Dutch’s kisses, her lips slightly bruised.
He ran his thumb over her bottom one. She sucked his digit inside and bit him gently.
Okay, so she wasn’t hurting. Relieved, Travis returned her smile and inclined his head to the bowl. “What is that?”
She tongued his thumb from her mouth. “Cupcake batter.”
“You’re cooking?”
“Baking.” She held up her hand to stop his newest question and lowered her head as she yawned. Finished, her shoulders sagged even more.
“Why are you baking now?” he asked and grabbed her hand. “Come back to the floor.”
Mercy giggled. “Can’t.” She eased her hand from his. “I have orders to bake for tomorrow. Actually today, since it is
tomorrow. I’ve got to finish this.”
When she was half–dead from working at Fast Fill then the saloon, after which he and Dutch had screwed her for hours? “Not by yourself. We’ll help.”
She regarded Dutch. Dead to the world, his arms and legs flung out as though he were parachuting. “You guys don’t know how to bake.”
“We can fill the cups you use for your stuff.”
“You don’t mind?”
Travis waved away her concern and nudged Dutch’s foot. Dutch pulled his leg away. Travis bumped his calf. “Hey. Wake up.”
“Whu?” Dutch looked at him through narrowed lids. He ran his tongue around his mouth. “Why are you shouting?”
“Mercy needs us to help her.”
“Oh yeah?” Dutch smiled, his head sinking back to the floor. “I’ll be ready for her in a few–”
“She has cupcakes to make. Come on.” Travis hauled Dutch to his feet and directed him toward the table.
“You don’t have to help,” she said.
“Sure we do,” Travis insisted. “Go on. Tell us how this works.”
“Works?” Dutch asked. He made a face at the batter. “What in god’s name is that?”
“Her cupcake stuff,” Travis said. “We’re going to fill the cups for her.”
“Oh.” Dutch slouched in a chair. His head sagged back and his mouth fell open.
Jesus. Travis shook his shoulder. “Pay attention.”
“Sorry.” He smacked his lips. “What were we doing?”
Mercy’s eyes shone.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Travis said before she cried. “We won’t fuck it up. We’ll be extra careful. Right, Dutch?”
“Yeah, I swear.” He gave her the Boy Scout salute.
She burst out laughing. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Relax,” Travis said, rubbing her arm. “Everything will be okay. Just tell us what you need.”
Mercy’s voice caught as she showed them how much of the liners to fill, warning them not to let the batter go higher than that.
“Got it,” Dutch said. “It’s like putting too much oil in an engine.”
She laughed again.
A bit hysterically, Travis thought. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to bed. “Get some sleep. We’ll take care of this.”
“No.” She looked past him at Dutch. “The cupcakes can’t bake too long. The oven can’t be too hot. It has to be preheated. You’re both tired.”
“We’ll deal with it. Your recipe’s on the table. It has the temperature and time. We’ll follow it religiously.”
Her mouth trembled.
Travis feared more tears. He wanted to run, and surprised himself when he bent down and brushed his lips over hers. “Everything’s under control.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You worry too much.” He gave her a smile and a pat on her ass. “In bed. Now.”
She lay on top of the comforter, arms flung out as though she’d been crucified.
Trying not to laugh, he ordered, “Relax.”
“I owe you,” she whispered. “Both of you. I’ll pay you back.”
Travis waved her promise away. Wasn’t necessary.
She whispered something else. He stopped and turned. “What was that?”
Her face turned bright red. “Nothing.” She rolled to her side, hands to her heart, lids squeezed tight.
Chapter Five
Tears kept stinging Mercy’s eyes. Tender feelings welled in her at Travis’s kindness. Dutch’s too.
They banged cabinets looking for the trays and liners. Her bowl clattered on the table.
“Hey, watch it,” Travis barked, then lowered his voice. “You nearly pushed that onto the floor.”
“Sorry. Where’re you going?”
“Be right back–don’t touch anything.” Travis slammed her front door.
When Mercy chanced a look, Dutch had his arms folded over her table, his head snuggled on them. Sound asleep.
She choked back her feelings. They bubbled to the surface again, telling her what she already knew. Travis and Dutch weren’t only hotter than sin. They were good, decent men. And she loved them.
There, she’d admitted it to herself, just as she had to Travis before he’d turned back and asked what she’d said. Coward that she was, Mercy wasn’t about to tell him. He would have fled, with Dutch right behind him.
Neither of them wanted her heart.
Mercy bit her lip until she tasted blood, relishing the physical pain, afraid of the emotional hurt. They’d given her the best night of her life, and it hadn’t been nearly enough. Like a junkie, she was addicted to their powerful masculinity and sweet natures, hungering for more.
What was she going to do? How in the hell would she ever survive this? Less than a month ago, she’d been worried they’d ignore or dismiss her. Worse, that they’d laugh at how she looked and acted.
Now, she feared the paralyzing desire they’d set free. God, it was boundless, escalating with their every touch, word, and–
The knob jiggled, interrupting her thoughts. Travis came inside, slamming the door again.
Dutch grumbled a curse then asked, “You left to get a tape measure?”
“We’re not fucking this up. You put no more than two inches into each liner.”
Mercy pressed her lips together to suppress her giggle.
Travis and Dutch said no more, their movements speaking for them. Chair legs scraped the floor, the table rattled as one of them bumped it, the tape measure jangled, her wooden spoons clunked.
Strangely enough the noise lulled her, telling Mercy she wasn’t alone.
You will be.
Her chest ached, but she promised herself to repay them before that happened. Just as she’d told Travis. After that…
Not wanting to consider the inevitable, Mercy snuggled into the comforter, exhaustion finally allowing her some peace.
Sunlight bled through the curtains, spilling across Dutch’s face. He draped his arm over his eyes. His fingers brushed warm skin.
Mercy’s.
Hmm. The thought of burying himself in her silky heat sounded like something he should do. His shop would still be there when he finished. Pleased with his decision, Dutch rolled over, straight into Travis.
They both skittered away.
Propped on his elbows, Travis frowned at the sun then the surroundings. “Did you hear Mercy leave?”
Dutch ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Nope.”
“Did you hear her cooking before she did?”
“No…why?” He dropped his hands. Travis pointed.
Numerous cupcakes were on the table when they should have been with Mercy’s customers. Even from the floor, Dutch could see how uneven the tops were. Fuck. No matter how well he’d measured, he couldn’t get the damn things to fluff up like they should.
He followed Travis to the table. From a standing position, Dutch saw that Mercy had arranged the treats to spell ’THX!’
He smiled, proud that he’d pleased her. The exclamation point proved that. “Guess we did okay.” He scratched his ass. “She took most of the batch. These were definitely the crappiest–looking ones.”
“No sense in wasting them.” Travis grabbed two, biting the tops off.
Dutch peeled a walnut from his and popped it into his mouth. “How about giving her tonight off from the saloon?”
Travis’s chews stopped. “Why?”
“Let her rest after her shift at Fast Fill.” Dutch grinned. “She’s going to need it. I’m coming back here for more.”
Travis peeled the liners from the bottoms of his cupcakes. “We both are.”
She rushed into the saloon twenty minutes ahead of schedule, bypassing the bar without a glance. Travis followed her to the kitchen. Mercy turned a slow circle, taking everything in before finally acknowledging his presence.
Travis wasn’t certain what he’d expected. A kiss maybe. Certainly a smile. Not her stricken expressi
on. “What?”
“You cleaned.”
It sounded like an accusation. “Yeah. You were at work. Obviously you couldn’t.”
“That’s why I came here early. This is my job.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “No one said it wasn’t.” He dropped his hands. “I thought you’d be pleased. You got up so early to bake your stuff, I knew you’d be tired. Just wanted to help.”
Her mouth quivered. “Like you did with my cupcakes.”
“Oh hey.” Travis rubbed the back of his neck. “Dutch and I really tried to get those suckers perfect. We measured and everything. I know some of them were fucked up, but–”
“They were beautiful, every freaking one of them. Thank you.” She moved into him, hands slipping up his chest. Before her arms were around his shoulders, they stalled. She edged back, putting distance between them.
Travis’s cock didn’t exactly get soft, but it still felt the loss of her precious warmth…the hug and kiss she’d meant to give him. Why had she stopped? “Everything all right?”
Nodding, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out several packages of ground beef, snuggling them to her chest rather than him.
Why? “Do you have to cook–I mean, bake more stuff tonight?”
“Not for a couple of days.”
“Good.” He hesitated then edged closer, uncertain whether she’d back away. Afraid she might.
Mercy’s breathing quickened with seeming uncertainty. However, her gaze and body softened, her willingness obvious.
Travis worked his hand beneath her hair, cupping the back of her neck. His balls tightened at its silky smoothness. “Dutch and I thought we’d all get together again tonight. If that’s okay with you. We have something special planned.”
Her expression brightened. “What?”
“It’s a surprise. That’s what makes it special.”
Her smile was so quick and real something inside Travis shifted. He wanted to see her like this always. Excited and happy because of what he’d said or done. “There is one rule though.”
She rolled her eyes. “Again with the rules?”
“Hey.” He reached around and smacked her ass. “Are you giving me lip? Do you need another spanking?”
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 89