Hot Male

by Lillian Grant

  A low growl of “Fuck,” sounded in her ear.

  Michael. Clara had shot Michael and she lay trapped under his dead body. A sob wracked her and she shoved at him. Clara would pay for her actions. She’d rip the crazy bitch’s head off for what she’d done to the people Meg loved. Michael’s weight lifted and hope sent blood pulsing through her body and air wheezing back into her lungs as she pushed up onto her elbows.

  Michael clasped the top of his left arm. He was alive. He was alive. Maud. Shit, Maud. Meg scrambled to her feet and Clara let out a booming laugh. Maud lay sprawled over the kitchen bench but Meg couldn’t tell if she had been badly injured or if she was dead. She took a step toward her, and Clara let out a, “Tut tut. I can’t believe I missed.”

  Michael stumbled to his feet. “Clara, let them go.”

  “You. You’re as feckless as your uncle. I should never have trusted a man to go after him. I bet you helped him run away. I bet you’re hiding him now. Well, you can be sure I won’t be missing again.”

  She turned the gun on Michael.

  “No! You’ll have to shoot me first.” Meg tried to step in front of him, but Michael held her off with his uninjured arm.

  Sam struggled madly, the legs of the chair bouncing on the timber floor. He pushed to his feet and waddled toward Clara but got jammed up between the Welsh dresser and the table.

  Clara laughed and turned the gun toward Meg. Sam’s face contorted and turned red as he struggled to free himself. “Stop her. For fuck’s sake, Michael, stop her before she kills Meg.”

  Maud shifted and Meg’s focus moved from the gun barrel. She smiled. She hadn’t been killed. If Clara shot her at least she had managed to save Maud. Her mother would be proud of her heroics. A sob got stuck in her throat as she made eye contact with Sam. She would never get to kiss him again. She hoped he wouldn’t be too heartbroken to find love once she was gone. Her attention shifted back to Maud as she pushed herself upright. Meg stared in disbelief when the old lady lifted a cast iron skillet off the draining board. The pan swung through the air and left Maud’s hand before smashing Clara in the back of the head. The gun tumbled to the ground with a clatter and their tormentor crumpled to the floor as the skillet smashed into the wall with a plaster-shattering crunch.

  Sam wandered up and down the waiting room. Meg was fine. She was fine. Maud on the other hand, he had no idea. God only knew where she got the strength to throw the skillet but she’d saved them. Perhaps the old lady wasn’t so bad after all.

  The door swung open and Sam turned and took a step toward it before coming to a halt. Michael. He’d hoped for Meg. After the police had arrived and taken a quick statement, Maud had collapsed and Meg had rushed off in the ambulance with her. They’d barely had time for a hug and a kiss. She’d said she loved him. A pain gripped his chest. She could have died if Maud hadn’t saved the day. He would never be able to thank her enough.

  “No need to look so disappointed. Your lady will be on her way shortly.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “I looked in on Maud for a moment before the nurses shoed me out. She was demanding one of the male nurses give her a bed bath.”

  Sam smiled. Nothing would every slow that woman down.

  Michael continued. “Once she’s comfortable, I’m sure Maggie will be happy to leave her in their care. Not so sure the nurses will feel the same way, though.”

  Sam glanced at Michael’s bandaged arm. “Much damage?”

  Michael grinned. “Just a graze. I’ve had worse scratches and bites after a night at the club.”

  “Bites?”

  “Aye, some ladies can get carried away at the sight of a naked man.”

  Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the Irishman. “I should be thanking you for saving Meg’s life.”

  Michael shrugged. “No need.”

  “Why did you throw yourself in front of that bullet?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  Sam turned and stared at the wall.

  “When Maggie was seventeen I rescued her from Gregory Barnes who was hell-bent on having his evil way with her whether she wanted it or not. The reward for my gallantry was the first kiss Maggie ever gave a man. I guess I’m hooked on being her savoir.”

  Sam slumped into a chair and put his head in his hands. He should have guessed Michael and Meg had some sort of history. She was not a woman to give her affection lightly … but Michael Monaghan, of all people?

  Michael took a step toward the door. “I can wait for my ride somewhere else, if you like.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Shamus is on his way to drive me to the cottage. I thought I would get my things and move on. Maggie doesn’t need any more upset, so best I leave quietly.”

  Sam shook his head. “No need. Sit. Wait.”

  Michael eased into a chair, and Sam went back to pacing, glancing at the Irishman from time to time.

  He had a lot to hate him for, and a lot to thank him for. Without his intervention the bullet that grazed his arm would have killed Meg. Clara had meant to shoot them all and leave no witnesses. His heart ached at the thought of losing Meg. He’d fought so hard to win her love, and she had gone along with every kinky sex game he’d thrown at her, and how had he reacted when it appeared she had some kinky thoughts of her own? He glanced at Michael. The man’s head rested back against the wall and his eyes were closed. “I don’t think you should leave just yet.”

  Michael opened his eyes and stared at him. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “It was. How long is Shamus going to be?”

  “He said he’d be off shift in half an hour. Why? Are you wanting a lift?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, but first I need to speak to Meg and we need to go shopping.”

  “Shopping? Shopping for what?”

  “Wait here. I’ll just tell Meg.”

  Chapter 41

  Meg pushed the front door open and waved to Rosalie and Declan as they drove off. She’d only left the cottage a few hours ago but it seemed like a decade had passed. She carefully locked the door before taking off her coat and wandering further inside. There was no sign of life downstairs. Sam had been very mysterious at the hospital. He’d said he had something he needed to do and would she grab a lift back with Declan. She hadn’t wanted to hang around; she’d wanted to come home with him. Even worse, Declan had insisted on taking her and Rosalie to lunch. He’d been cut up that Clara had attacked them. She’d tried her best to comfort him and told him the whole debacle wasn’t his fault, but her heart wasn’t in it. Clara was to blame, not him, but her mind had been too distracted to argue a convincing case. She’d hardly spoken to Sam since the police arrived to arrest Clara. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about their relationship. Who could blame him? Her life was already full of crazy people and then somehow she’d added his arch nemesis Michael Monaghan to the mix. She wandered back to the hallway and glanced up the stairs. Had Michael left already without even saying goodbye? Maybe they had both left. She let out a sigh.

  “Meg?”

  “Sam?” She climbed onto the first stair tread and gripped the banister as slow, sultry jazz music filled the air. He was up there waiting for her. Her heart raced and a warm glow filled her abdomen.

  “Up here.”

  She ran up the stairs, almost tripping over her own feet, and came to a sliding stop just inside the bedroom. He’d drawn the curtains, and flames crackled in the open fireplace. Soft pink light from the bedside lamp provided the only other illumination. The sound of running water accompanied the soft soulful wail of a saxophone, and the scent of jasmine filled the air.

  Her gaze shifted from Sam to Michael and back again. Heart pounding, mouth dry, she stood frozen in the moment. They looked like summer and winter. Sam’s light sun-kissed hair, soft blue eyes, tanned skin and toned muscles were set off to perfection by his white T-shirt and figure-hugging jeans. He reminded her of hot days on the beach, passi
onate kisses in the surf and lovemaking on the sand. Michael’s long dark hair, brown eyes and pale complexion was enhanced by his billowing white shirt with French cuffs hanging open and buttons undone almost to the waist. His signature skintight black leather pants took nothing away from the dark fantasy Mr. Darcy vibe he gave off.

  “You’re still here? Oh, thank God.”

  Michael chuckled and glanced at Sam. Sam grinned back before stepping toward her. He ran a finger down her right cheek and then tilted her head up. She stared into his beautiful blue eyes before drowning in his kiss. Hungry for him, she fisted her hands in his hair as he plundered her mouth, drawing her tongue between his teeth and giving her a playful nip before pulling back.

  She felt his heart pounding beneath her fingers. He stared into her eyes. “Meg?”

  Her breath hitched. He sounded so serious. Like a man about to propose. She’d dreamt of this moment, and Michael had never been a witness in her imagination but she would live with it.

  “Do you want Michael to make love to you?”

  Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Not the question she had been expecting. Was this a test of her fidelity? Or was he serious? She glanced at Michael and his wink sent heat coursing through her veins. She turned her attention back to Sam. “I love you.”

  He grinned. “I love you too, but that isn’t the answer to the question I asked. Perhaps you need to be reminded what happens to bad girls.” Sam put out his left hand. “Mr. Monaghan.”

  Michael stepped to the bed and then handed Sam a beautiful black and red flogger. The world swam for a moment as Meg felt sure all her blood had pooled in her nether regions, leaving her poor addled brain starved of oxygen.

  “Now, do you want Michael to join us?”

  She swallowed and glanced at Michael, and then back at Sam. If this was a test, she was about to fail. It might only be the once but she wanted nothing more than to include Michael in their kinky games. Her mouth close to Sam’s ear, she whispered, “Yes, please.”

  Sam chuckled. “Good girl. Now I need to check something. Why don’t you go and greet Michael with your pretty mouth.”

  Meg chewed her lip, not sure exactly what he wanted from her. “You want me to kiss him?”

  “That’s the idea, to start with, at least.”

  Sam pulled her across the room and left her standing before Michael as he disappeared into the bathroom. Meg stared at the floor, suddenly shy and nervous. This was madness. Sam would come to his senses any minute now and punch Michael again.

  Sam’s voice echoed in the bathroom. “Mr. Monaghan, don’t let her think too much or she’ll change her mind.”

  Michael ran his fingers through her hair. He grabbed a fistful and tipped her head up to look at him. “Right you are, Mr. Stephens.”

  Before she could pull away he pressed his lips to hers. His tongue demanded entrance and she complied. Sam’s kisses teased, probed, and he tasted delicious. However, Michael made out like a bandit on a smash and grab raid. God, would he be as reckless when they got naked? The thought of him as hell-bent on taking possession of her pussy as he currently was her mouth, made her moan and grab the front of his shirt for support.

  Michael pulled back, and she fluttered her eyelashes, still not sure she had control of all her faculties.

  “Thank you, darlin’, that was beautiful.”

  She couldn’t stop the goofy grin taking over her face.

  “Mr. Monaghan?” Sam’s voice brought her back down to earth.

  Meg turned her head. Sam leaned with his hip against the bathroom doorframe. Was he angry? He didn’t look angry. She let her gaze roam his body and shuddered at the telltale bulge of his erect cock pressing the front of his pants. God, he was hard. He wanted this as much as she did. What about Michael? She looked up at him and he winked, sending a flush to her face.

  Sam walked toward them and Meg stepped away from Michael, not sure exactly how this was supposed to work.

  “We have some rules you need to know.” Sam smiled and pushed an errant curl behind Meg’s ear. “Baby, please tell Mr. Monaghan your safe word.”

  Oh God. Not the safe word. She should have chosen something else.

  “Can I change it?” Sam shook his head and she whispered. “Jelly.”

  “Did you hear that, Mr. Monaghan?”

  “No, I can’t say that I did.”

  “Again, and louder, or you know what will happen.”

  She hesitated at the thought of getting her backside paddled, and then decided she wasn’t ready for that in front of Michael. “Jelly.” Michael’s grin made her squirm.

  Sam kissed her cheek. “Good girl. Now tell him what happens when you say jelly.”

  “Everything stops.”

  “Everything stops, Mr. Monaghan. We have some other rules, don’t we, Meg?”

  She stared back at the floor. Not sure where else to look.

  “I’ll spare your blushes and enlighten him, shall I?”

  Meg nodded with relief.

  “Meg won’t orgasm unless we give her permission. However, equally, we can’t have an orgasm without her having one first. Now shall we?”

  “Shall we what?” Meg stared at Sam.

  “Mr. Monaghan, would you please escort Meg to the bathroom.”

  Chapter 42

  Michael offered his arm, and she curled her fingers around it and let him lead her across the room.

  Meg stopped inside the doorway. The massive clawfoot bath was full of bubbles and sweet jasmine-scented steam filled the room. Candles flickered on the windowsill. The vanity unit was covered with a myriad of items. Chocolates, wine glasses, and an open bottle of champagne caught her eye before Sam turned her around to face him.

  His focus was behind her. “Top or bottom?”

  Michael’s voice, thick with more than just the brogue of Ireland, reached her ear. “Top.”

  Sam dropped to his knees and lifted her left foot as Michael pressed against her back. Slowly, Michael unbuttoned her shirt and placed a warm hand on her stomach, forcing her tight against him. His rock-hard erection dug into the top of her arse, leaving her in no doubt he was happy to play along with whatever kinky games Sam had in mind. They were both captives of Sam’s filthy imagination.

  Warm fingers massaged her naked foot. She shuddered and let Michael support her. Not that he was helping her equilibrium. One hand was still pressed to her stomach but his fingers had strayed beneath the waistband of her jeans. Each soft stroke of his fingers sent a pulse to her already swollen clit. Moisture dampened her panties as she imagined his touch heading further south. The fingers of his other hand were entwined with hers and his warm breath teased her neck, sending goose pimples marching across her skin. She inhaled the heady scent of his sandalwood cologne. She wanted to remember every sensation, every second.

  Sam moved to her other foot, tugging off her shoe and sock. He climbed to his feet and smiled before leaning forward and kissing her. His lips barely brushed hers and she fought to follow his mouth. A soft chuckle sounded in her ear as Michael held her back.

  “I think we should tell her our rules Mr. Monaghan. Would you like to do the honors?”

  “My pleasure.”

  God, she wanted to be his pleasure. She wanted to be both their pleasures. A low moan escaped her, and Sam grinned.

  Michael removed his hand from her stomach and slipped her shirt from her shoulders as Sam unbuttoned her jeans.

  “You will address Mr. Stephens as sir. You can call me Mr. Monaghan, darlin’. Everything we do is for you and you will comply without question or face the appropriate punishment. Do you understand?”

  Meg nodded. Sam tugged her jeans down her legs and a slap stung her outer thigh, sending a jolt to her already aching center.

  She looked down at Sam. “I taught you better than that.”

  “I understand, Mr. Monaghan.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She had no idea why they were being so formal but it was turning her to mush.
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br />   Her reward was a soft kiss on the shoulder and Michael’s husky whisper of, “Good girl.”

  Michael made short work of her cream silk bra, and Sam lifted each foot as he tugged off her jeans and matching silk panties. Now she was naked she realized they were both still fully dressed. A bout of shyness overwhelmed her. She tried to cross her arms and hide her nudity, but Sam stood and shook his head.

  “Can you believe that, Mr. Monaghan? Meg is trying to cover her body. What do you think? Is it a body that should remain hidden?”

  Michael stepped around her to stand next to Sam. “Luscious curves. To be sure, Maggie, it’s a wonderful body and not one I want to cover up.”

  Meg dropped her arms and lifted her chin, making eye contact with Michael and then Sam. Heat flared in their eyes and arousal strained their pants. For her. They were turned on by her body. She felt sexier and more alive than she ever had before. They both held out a hand and she accepted, marveling at the difference in the feel. Sam’s hand was wider and calloused from lifting weights. Michael’s long fingers curled around her hand and his palms were warm and soft. They stood each side of her and led her toward the bath, continuing to offer support until she stepped inside. Once they let go she slid down into the heady scented water. Michael dropped to his knees and captured her lips, kissing her long and hard. His tongue possessed her mouth, probing, teasing and sucking. She curled her fingers around the roll top of the bath, sure she would slip under the surface and drown with nothing to hold onto.

  Sam’s hand wrapped around her calf and lifted her leg from the water. His fingers massaged her instep as his mouth closed on her big toe. The sensation aroused memories of him feasting between her thighs. Her whole body ached with need. Her pussy throbbed on the precipice of orgasm and neither of them had even touched her intimately yet. There was no way she could hold off until commanded to come. The thought of release made her shiver, and she wriggled, splashing water on the floor as Sam flicked her toe with his tongue making her clit throb in glorious response. She groaned into Michael’s mouth, and he broke the kiss with a deep sensuous laugh.