by Lindsey Iler
Don’t let me in, Palmer. Those words are like a broken record in my head, repeating over and over until it’s almost unbearable.
Rain starts to fall in a diagonal line. I listen to the pattering on the window for an unknown amount of time. The house is illuminated from the inside out, lights shining through the large glass windows that seem to make up the entire house. I’ve never been up the hill before, only privy to the view from the bottom. How different their world appears from up here. Where we are old world romance, they’re sharp and untouchable.
Suddenly, the passenger door flings open, and I’m dragged outside of the car. Byron’s hand wraps around my wrist so tight, I have no choice but to follow him. He doesn’t stop tugging until I’m hauled through the front door and the living room.
“Where’s Delaney?” I ask, resisting Byron’s touch to no avail.
“She’s sleeping in Breaker’s room. She’s safe. He’s already made himself a spot on the couch in there, so no worries,” Byron explains, not giving me a chance to take a deep breath or check out my surroundings.
My mind wanders to Marek, curious as to where he is. He left me in Delaney’s car, no explanation to his odd behavior, like I did something to piss him off. If anyone should be upset, it’s me.
Byron marches us to his bedroom and tosses me on his bed. I expect to see smoke coming from the carpet with the way he’s pacing back and forth. Several times, I open my mouth to say something, to keep him from creating more nervous energy, but something stops me.
Byron finally stops. “What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t say anything.” I shake my head, rethinking every word Marek and I’ve exchanged tonight. Angered by the accusation, I stand, forcing Byron and me chest-to-chest. “I sort of resent the way you’re speaking to me right now.”
His perfect lips part, but I’m not met with any words. Byron stares at me, almost with a hint of awe.
“What?” I bark, straightening the lines of my shoulders. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I didn’t understand it until right now.” He nods, lost inside his own thoughts.
“Understand what?” I take a step back.
Byron wraps one of his arms around my waist and tugs our bodies flush together. “Why Marek is desperate to play.”
“Play what?” I push out with a breath.
“With you.” His finger skims through my wet hair and down the left side of my face.
I don’t flinch. Not a single inch of me moves, allowing him to descend to my collarbone, tickling the skin. His brown eyes burrow into my soul, taking every little bit of me he wants. Like I’ve forgotten everything he’s ever said and done, I melt into him. There’s something some men are capable of without much effort, and Byron has it, much like Marek. The ability to make you hungry for them, without even trying, is a talent.
“Marek isn’t here to play with me, though,” I say boldly, knowing I’m playing with wildfire.
“No, he’s not, but . . .” His head dips low, his nose running through my hair and down over my neck. To be honest, it’s the effective move Marek used on me earlier tonight.
“But you are.” I turn my head just enough to place his lips on mine. There’s no thought involved, except Marek’s voice in the back of my mind. Maybe you should get to living.
There’s a hundred percent chance Marek didn’t mean for me to kiss Byron, my teacher, but I find myself leaning in and opening for him. The moment his tongue skims my bottom lip, my inhibitions fly out the window.
He lifts my blouse, exposing my stomach, and bends, kissing along my ribs while I play with his perfectly maintained hair. His hands dive into my jeans, forcing the button to pop. I pull back enough to stare between us, loving the way his big hand looks against my small frame. Biting my lip, I inhale a whisper of a breath, sinking into the sensation he’s creating.
“You like my hands on you, don’t you?” He circles my body, keeping his fingers on my center until his chest flattens against my back. With one hand over my chest, Byron runs the tip of his nose over the side of my face, setting my nerves on fire.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Marek’s voice breaks me from the spell Byron’s hands have put me under.
His presence in the room is like ice water flowing through my veins, awakening me from the deepest dream. He stands in the doorway, breaking his attention away from Byron and me, only to return with a feverish desire. If I hadn’t pulled far enough away to clear my own mind, I wouldn’t have seen the hint of excitement.
Does he enjoy Byron’s hands all over me?
“Nothing, man. We’re just talking.” Byron shoots me an unnerving smirk as he pulls away and settles on the edge of the mattress.
Marek walks further into the room, running a hand across the top of Byron’s dresser. “Don’t stop on my account.” He lifts his chin enough to expose his thirst and hunger. The storm brewing inside him is scary but exciting.
“I’m not.” When Marek covers my neck with his hand, a worried laugh sticks in my throat. “I don’t do this kind of thing.” I try better to explain.
“What kind of thing is that, Palmer?” His attention shifts to my unbuttoned jeans while he bites at the corner of his lip. “You looked awfully comfortable doing just that.”
“How long were you watching us?” I step back, desperate for distance, but he crowds against me.
“Long enough.” He snatches me by the wrist and places my hand over his erection, pinning us closer together. “The desperation in your chest you’re trying so damn hard to tamp down, the same one you let go of for a second with Byron, is the exact way I want you to feel every single second of your life.”
“Why? Who am I to you, Marek?” I jerk my hand away, understanding in a flash what he’s talking about. The feeling is gone, lost within my own mind, just as he’d said.
Marek wraps his arm around my waist, making me feel small in his hold, and tugs me close. “I don’t know yet.”
“That’s not good enough for me.” I shove his chest to create space and step back, surprised he allows me this liberty.
“So, what’s it going to be, Palmer?” His head tilts to the side, his gaze methodical and calculated. “You going to let us in?”
“Us?” I croak out, checking over my shoulder.
Byron’s hand is under the waistband of his pants, moving up and down as he watches us.
“Us.” Marek crowds me again, tucking my hair behind my ear.
There’s no time to think, to protest, before his mouth crashes into mine. His hand slips into the back of my hair, resting in the perfect position to control our kiss. One swipe of his tongue has my lips parting with an eager breath.
His soft, demanding strokes are so different than Byron’s. Marek brings emotion, whereas Byron is there to possess.
Hands on my hips startle me. Byron invades my space, pressing kisses along my shoulder. His breaths warm my skin through the thin material of my blouse. Marek pulls back, watching Byron move up my neck. As he does, Marek starts working on the buttons of my blouse, until the silky fabric parts, sending a chill along my skin.
Byron turns my head to the side, giving him full access to my mouth. This kiss feels different, almost as though he’s here out of obligation, not desire. He reaches around my body, laying his hand flat against my stomach to tug me into his body. His dick is hard against my ass.
“You feel that?” Byron’s words tickle my ear.
At his question, Marek stands. There should be discomfort in seeing Marek watch Byron and me together, but exhilaration is what’s coursing through my veins.
“He asked you a question, sweetheart.” Marek shifts into me, plastering his chest to mine. Now, it’s Byron’s time to give me some space. His warmth a glaring absence, I check over my shoulder to see him leaning against the wall, his eyes hooded with the desire his kiss lacked.
Marek’s warm lips brush against the dip of my chest, bringing my attention back to him.
The kisses are softer than I’ve imagined him being capable of. As he progresses up my neck, they grow more forceful.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
“Seems our girl is hiding a little devil inside of her, Hawthorne,” Byron says.
Marek’s teeth grit together. If it’s from Byron calling me their girl, the joke’s on them, because I belong to neither of them, at least beyond tonight.
“Is that true?” Marek falls to his knees and slowly lowers the zipper of my jeans. An easy sort of pleasure stares up at me as he shimmies the denim off my hips. “Is there a devil inside of you?” Marek’s tongue skims the front of my white lace panties, close enough to taste me. As my head falls back, I catch his smirk. “Because all I see is an angel.”
I step out of the jeans, and Marek throws them onto Byron’s bed. Marek stands, running his hands up my legs. Eye-to-eye, I steady my nerves. His are clear and hungry with a satisfaction as he watches me.
Is he waiting for me to run from the room? That won’t happen. Not now after what I know.
“I hate his hands touched you first,” Marek whispers in my ear. “He got the chance to feel you against his fingers before I could. That's killing me.” His teeth sink into my earlobe, sending a shock straight to my core.
With a confidence I didn’t know I had, I run the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. “There’s something of his that’s never touched me.”
At my suggestion, Marek falls back to his knees, gripping tight to my hips. He hooks a finger into my panties, discarding them like they never belonged on my body.
Eye level with my bare pussy, he licks his lip, inching forward. His tongue, starving and desperate, explores me, teasing until I can’t stop my hands from landing on the top of his head. With a tight hold on his hair, I tug on the ends. He grasps my thigh, angling my leg over his shoulder, opening me to him. My body jolts onto my tippy toes, his tongue driving me fucking mad.
I want to touch him so bad.
At the thought, Byron reminds me Marek and I aren’t alone. He shifts my hair to one side, gazing over my shoulder and down at his friend. They make full eye contact, not shying away from each other. Byron’s teeth sink into my shoulder, and a moan crowds the space between the three of us.
All it takes is the two of them acknowledging the other to turn my insides upside down.
“Holy fuck!” My inner thoughts come out, making both release a deep chuckle.
Something so small is so damn sexy.
Marek stands, and with no hesitation, his lips crash into mine, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue. His hands find comfort in my hair, and he tugs just enough to make me take notice.
“Lie down,” Byron demands.
I don’t trust these mother fuckers to save my life, but damn if they don’t do things to my body.
I do as Byron says, pushing onto the bed. He’s quick to dip between my thighs, replacing Marek’s tongue with his own. Beside me, Marek kneels with one knee on the bed and the other leg dangling off the edge, keeping his balance tight. I grab his belt loop to tug him closer, making quick work of his button and zipper. The material slides down his legs, springing him free. He grips the base, stroking himself. I sit up enough to replace his hand with mine and lean forward to lick the tip of his dick before plunging forward to take most of his length.
“Not such an angel anymore,” Marek hisses, collecting my hair to take control.
Byron hums with satisfaction, vibrating my clit, sending me shooting forward.
“Fuck this!” Marek growls, pulling himself free from my mouth, and grabbing my arm, he lifts me up to sit on the edge of the bed. “Him or me?” His stare breaks to Byron.
“Both of you,” I say with a boldness that surprises me. Who the fuck do I think I am? I’m not a girl who begs for a threesome.
“That isn’t an option. One, your tight little pussy couldn’t handle us. Two, we never touch each other.” His fingers raise my chin, forcing my eyes to him.
“Is there a three?” I egg them on, finding this whole thing amusing. “And you two never touch each other?”
The thought of them touching each other sets me on fire. My breaths grow heavy, and Marek notices. He licks the corner of his lips, watching my chest rise and fall. My imagination is running wild.
“Only once, and we learned our lesson, baby girl,” Byron chimes in.
I glance over to where he stands, at the bottom of the bed. Marek tips my attention back to him.
“Three, my guess is anal isn’t in your repertoire, and I’ll be damned if I let him dip in while I’m being squeezed by your sweet walls.” Marek leans down, cock in hand, and kisses me. “So, what’s it going to be, me or him, Palmer?”
“You,” I whisper.
“Speak louder, baby, because no girl I’m fucking is going to be shy.”
Chapter Four
Marek
I hold my breath waiting for her to say my name. If she says Byron, there’s no telling what I will do. Burn this mother fucker to the ground with them inside of it, is what comes to mind.
“Marek.” My name coming from her lips is breathy. “You.”
Palmer’s smile is confident. She’s so sure she wants it to be me. What have I done to deserve her trust? I’ll never know. Am I going to ask? Fuck no, because that will only convince her I’m not.
All I care about is slipping between her thighs and watching her squirm underneath me. There’s a sweetness about Palmer she’ll never be able to get rid of. She’s the opposite of Reed, and yet, just as alluring, if not more so.
“You sure about this?” I sway a little bit before turning to Byron’s bedside table and tossing a condom next to her on the bed.
Byron steps towards the door, and a whimper escapes Palmer’s throat.
“Do you want him to stay?” I whisper, cupping her face and kissing her quickly.
“Would you judge me if I said yes?” She bites the corner of her lip, her appreciation dancing between the two of us.
This is nothing new for Byron and me. On more than one occasion, we’ve found ourselves in precarious situations. We never judge, always willing to join in.
“Do you think either of us are in any position to judge you?” Byron says, closing the door and clicking the lock.
“You’re my teacher,” Palmer states the obvious.
“I am.” Byron stalks forward. “Which is reason enough to get the hell out of here, but . . .”
“But?” Palmer’s chest rises and falls.
“I’ve never been one to follow the rules.” He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around her waist, tugging her flush to the mattress edge. His head disappears between her thighs, teasing her and driving her to the brink.
Her eyes never leave me, allowing me to see the pressure build inside of her. She watches me enjoy her teetering.
“Our girl’s wet.” Her flesh muffles Byron’s words. When he lifts his head, she wiggles her hips, inviting him back.
I grit my teeth at the way he says our girl, and by the pleased gleam in his eyes, he knows I hate it. He smirks before diving back down to taste her more.
This isn’t our first ride on the threesome train, but it feels like more is at stake with her between the two of us. It won’t be the same as in the past. It can’t be. Palmer Weston isn’t mine. She never will be, if I have a say in it, but I don’t like the idea of Byron laying any sort of claim on her. She’s not mine, but she sure as hell will never be his.
Palmer grips the sheets, her knuckles white from the pressure of holding on for dear life. I reach between her legs, more than happy to steal this from Byron. I flick a finger over her clit, and she’s done for, tumbling down that sweet, dark abyss of her orgasm.
Byron backs away, anger fueling his movements. I ignore him, grabbing Palmer and twisting her to face me. She leans into me as I bend down to rest my mouth against her ear. Her brown hair tickles my face.
“I wouldn’t let him steal that from me, too,” I
whisper. “I’ll never let anyone steal them from me. Your pleasure belongs to me and no one else.” My gaze rakes over her body, and I cup her cheeks. She has this wildness to her I could never get bored of. Our kiss grows from slow to ravished in a split second. Her hand reaches between us, gripping lightly around my dick, pumping me until I’m on the edge.
“No, no, no.” I press my palm against her chest, flattening her on the mattress. “The only way I’m coming is inside of you.” I grab the gold foil, rip it with my teeth, and sheath my dick with protection. I’m clean and careful, but you just never fucking know.
I crawl over top of her, positioning myself at her entrance. She watches and waits for me to move.
“Say the word, baby, and this doesn’t have to happen,” I instruct.
Palmer wraps her tiny fingers around the placket of her blouse and slips it down her arms, leaving her in an angelic, white bra that matches her discarded panties. The lace is painted onto her skin, and I brush my finger along the edge. Goose bumps cover her perfect, glowing skin. Her legs wrap around my waist, tugging me flush against her.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She lifts and twists her hips, rubbing her bare cunt against my dick. There’s a double meaning to her plea.
Our reputation precedes us, I see.
“Never,” I whisper, glancing at Byron.
At my promise, Byron raises an eyebrow at me, silently telling me to shut the fuck up. A promise made doesn’t mean a promise kept, especially if it’s to get something we want.
I grab the base of my dick, lining myself up before plunging deep inside of her, forgetting Byron is still in the room. Everything falls away as I slide in and out of her. She’s tight, a vise grip on my dick, milking me free from the pressure being inside of her creates.
Palmer’s head falls to the side, her stare landing on Byron. She reaches out to him, inviting him in the sweetest, most innocent way possible. As he takes her hand, crawling onto the bed, she thaws parts of him I’ve believed were forever frozen.
He reaches behind her, freeing her from her bra. Byron’s mouth dips to cover one of Palmer’s nipples, licking and sucking the tight pebble. Never to under-appreciate, he moves to the other, pinching the wet one between his thumb and finger. She bucks at the sensation and clenches around my dick.
