by Jayne Rylon
Joe crashed, face down, to the mattress beside her. His body ended up perpendicular to hers. She cradled his head on her chest.
But with Kate out of the game, Morgan felt compelled to help Mike reach the same rapture he’d given her. She reached for him, but he shook his head.
“Not this time, Morgan.” His nostrils flared as he focused on Joe instead. “Joe, I need something more. I need to fuck. I want to be in control of life for five damn minutes before we go back to that piece of shit hospital. I won’t be rough with our girls. Not now. Will you do this for me?”
Eli grunted. “Does he mean what I think he means?”
“That I bend over for my foreman on occasion?” Joe looked up from his place at Morgan’s side. The slightest hint of vulnerability etched onto his face had her burying her fingers in his hair. “Yeah. He does.”
“I’m not going to fucking bash you, dickhead.” Eli shook his head.
Alanso whipped his head to Eli. “You’re not?”
“Why do you all suddenly think I’m a tool?” He snorted. “Hell, no. If that’s what you like… I’ve just never. You know.”
Joe nodded and sighed. He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he rose to his knees, spreading them wide while leaving his cheek pressed to Morgan’s torso. “Take what you need, Mike. It sounds good to me too, giving up control for a while. To let you worry about everything. I trust you.”
Morgan gripped her husband tight. The strain of the past twenty-four hours had affected him more than he let on.
Mike grunted, then looked to Kate. “Toss me the lube, babe.”
“My pleasure.” She winked at her husband.
He snatched the tube from the air with one hand. Wasting no time, he slathered himself with the gel, then began to prepare Joe. He grunted, nipping Morgan’s breast lightly when Mike reached between his cheeks to spread more slickness there.
“Son of a bitch.” He hissed. “Remember, I’m not James over here. I haven’t done this in a while.”
“You can take it.” Mike unleashed a powerful side of him they didn’t often get to see unrestrained. “Open up. Spread your legs wider, then relax.”
Morgan glanced between Mike, her husband and the trio of friends on her other side. The guys synchronized their stroking on their cocks to the pace Mike set, penetrating Joe’s tight hole with his finger. Now two fingers—or was it three?—when she looked to the foreman again.
Another Spanish curse had her peeking at the hot-rodders.
Kate was getting devious. She clasped Eli and Alanso’s wrists, one in each of her much smaller hands. Then she crossed her arms. No way could she force the powerful men to move if they would rather resist.
Eli and Alanso exchanged a heated glance, then allowed Kate to curl their fingers around each other’s erections. Alanso didn’t hesitate. He picked up right where he’d left off massaging his own hard-on.
A grunt exploded from Eli’s chest. He flushed, then breathed hard as his friend stroked his cock. “Shit. It feels so much different when you do it.”
“Do you like it?” Alanso swallowed.
Eli paused.
Morgan could tell Kate was preparing to smack him upside the head if he squashed the fragile experiment blossoming between the pair. At least, if he wasn’t into it, he should let Alanso down easy. They shouldn’t have worried.
“Should I stop, Cobra?” Alanso looked up at the garage owner.
“Fuck yes,” he panted.
Kate glared at Eli when Alanso tried to yank his hand back as if burned. Instead, Eli trapped his friend’s palm over his cock.
“Not so fast. I meant, fuck yeah I like it. Don’t stop or I might deck you.” He laughed at the shock on Alanso’s face. Then he did one better and began to jerk off the guy sitting muscular shoulder to muscular shoulder with him.
Morgan shivered at the raw lust on their faces. She could only bring herself to look away when Joe tensed. A moment later, he groaned. The sound morphed into a hiss as Mike pushed him forward on her torso, sinking deep with one unrelenting thrust.
“This isn’t going to be a long ride, Joe.” Mike grunted. He withdrew slowly, then slammed forward once more. “You’d better hang on tight.”
Morgan stroked Joe’s face and finger combed his hair, helping him relax while Mike invaded his ass. She didn’t miss the sigh he released when he surrendered completely to the foreman. “You’re doing great, Joe. Let him have you. Give him what he needs. Take too.”
Mike squirted more lube onto his shaft before tossing the bottle aside. He leaned forward, getting leverage on his side to work his cock deeper, harder into Joe’s welcoming hole. Joe tensed his arms beside her, keeping Mike’s momentum from smashing him into her. The show of his strength, in so many different ways, made her love him just a little more. If that were possible.
Morgan basked in the energy created by the four smoking-hot guys surrounding her. Each of them used another to find his release. Sexual, spiritual or mental—maybe all three. She felt honored to be part of their exchange.
Slick slaps echoed from Alanso and Eli, who had lost their initial hesitance. They pumped each other with the sureness only another man could manage when handling cock. Cords stood out in Eli’s neck as he flexed his hips upward. His erection bulged in Alanso’s hold.
Mike laughed even as he pummeled Joe. “You’re never going to be the same again. Trust me. Don’t freak when you go back to that damn garage, Eli. It’s going to be like fire in your veins. Trying to stop it is stupid.”
“Sounds like experience talking,” Eli grunted.
“It’s been so long. Almost don’t remember.” Mike increased the intensity of his strokes. “But yeah. Wasn’t always…like this.”
Joe didn’t bother to try and speak. He hung on and offered himself to Mike, lifting his ass higher to meet the increasing pressure of Mike’s fucking.
“Thank you.” Mike growled as he blanketed Joe’s back. He sheltered his friend even as he drilled his ass. “Needed this. Christ. So bad.”
Sweat glistened on the skin of both men. Morgan couldn’t have adored them more in that moment. Powerful, graceful and a little brutal. They held nothing back.
At the last possible second, Mike lifted his head and stared directly at Kate.
“I love you.” The foreman’s wife encouraged him, “Go ahead. Come in his ass. Fill him up.”
Morgan couldn’t say if it was that little speech or the spectacle before them, maybe the combination, but something proved too much for Alanso. He threw his head back and muttered a stream of broken Spanish and English she couldn’t understand. Eli must have, though. He tore his gaze from Mike and Joe to observe as he pumped stream after stream of come from his mechanic.
Mike roared. He jerked several times as he too came. His fingers gripped Joe’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, but her husband didn’t seem to mind. Only when the last drop of fluid leaked from Alanso’s cock did Eli surrender. He glanced between his friend and the two men, panting from where they’d collapsed near Morgan, before shattering.
The force of Eli’s orgasm impressed Morgan. After all this time with the crew, that was saying something. How long had he hidden his desires? Only a forbidden fantasy could draw that kind of response.
When he shuddered against the coffee table, his cock spent, Alanso developed a wicked grin. He lifted his messy hand to his mouth and licked a swath through the delicacy there. Had James been there, he’d have come in his pants at the sight.
Eli didn’t fare much better. He groaned, then slung one arm over his eyes as his seizing renewed. “Stop, stop. I can’t take anymore. Holy shit.”
Mike and Joe cracked up. They separated with sighs mingled with grunts.
While Kate and Morgan looked on, Mike crossed to Eli and extended his hand. Eli took it with his clean one and allowed Mike to lever him to his feet. Mike banded one arm around his back and squeezed tight. “You’ve got this. You’ll know what the right thing is for your gang.�
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“And we’re always here if you need to talk.” Kate kissed Alanso on the cheek.
“Thank you.” He turned away, but Morgan caught the shimmer in his delicious chocolate eyes first.
She hoped they were able to fashion a relationship even half as strong as the one she was so fortunate to be part of. Rejuvenated, she couldn’t wait to get back to the hospital and the rest of the crew.
7
Dave stared up at the thick wooden beams of the cathedral ceiling in the living room of Kayla’s cabin. Thinking of it as her home, a place he merely lived, helped him cope with the possibility of leaving sometime soon. Really soon.
He swore he’d memorized every knot and streak of grain in the timbers during the past three months. It was a big upgrade from counting creepy birds in the wallpaper of the antiseptic hospital room he’d occupied for almost seven weeks. Still, he’d spent a hell of a lot of time right here, flat on his worthless back. If he never saw another episode of Dr. Phil or Judge Mathis, it’d be too soon. On the plus side, he did have a better idea of what constituted a good deal at the grocery store after about a million viewings of The Price Is Right.
He rolled his eyes. The cluster of dark spots near the ceiling fan caught his attention. They’d started reminding him of the profile of his childhood dog, Barker, lately.
“Jesus. I need to get out of here,” he grumbled, shifting to his side on the bed, which the guys had temporarily lugged down from the loft ages ago. Careful to keep the dead weight of his bad leg on top, he pushed up to half-sitting.
“Hmm?” Kate moaned from her spot, where she’d crashed beside him. He hadn’t meant to rouse the ultra-preggers woman. As much as he loved her and Morgan, who snuggled against his other side, he struggled to draw in a breath.
Suffocation seemed like a very real possibility.
“Nothing. Sorry. Gotta get up.” He did his best not to jostle either of the exhausted women, who’d elected to stay home and nap with him rather than join their friends in picking blueberries for Morgan to incorporate in upcoming seasonal specials. The untamed section of the property, which contained masses of fruit bushes, was too rough for Dave’s wheelchair.
He was coming to hate the contraption. His doctors wouldn’t let him switch to crutches until he regained feeling in his limb. Rightly so, they feared he’d put pressure on it or bang into things, causing more damage unintentionally. The specialists hadn’t said so yet, but their frowns and dampening reassurances led him to believe he was getting close to being written off.
What if he never recovered fully?
It seemed he should face the possibility. This could be the new him. His new life. What the hell use was he to the crew like this? He wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go and a leg that wouldn’t support him regardless.
“Need help getting to the bathroom?” Morgan scooted aside, giving him a wide berth.
“No!” He hated how she flinched. Yet he couldn’t stop the frustration boiling inside him from erupting in a roar. “I do not want help taking a goddamned piss. You might almost be a mother, but I’m no fucking baby.”
She raised a single brow from where she lounged. Kate scrubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, then huddled closer to Morgan as if to protect her.
Bile rose in his throat. He tried to escape faster, nearly capsizing his wheelchair in his haste to climb over the arm and haul his leg into position. A vision of his dumb ass, sprawled helpless—and completely devoid of the last scraps of his pride—across the plank flooring rushed into his brain.
Before it became reality, someone snagged the handles of the chair and returned his prison to level. Dave plopped into place none too gently. Footsteps on the hardwood confirmed the rest of the crew had returned from their outing.
“I admit I missed the beginning of that tirade…” Joe’s menacing rumble rose goosebumps on Dave’s skin. “But you sure as shit sounded like a child just then, douchebag. Don’t you ever talk to my wife like that again. Bum leg or not, I’ll bury my steel-toed boot up your ass.”
“He likes that sometimes.” James strutted into view, trying to disperse the tension between the two men. “In fact, maybe that’s part of his problem. It’s been a while, huh? You’ve dodged every one of our sessions since the accident. Sex is a great way to blow off some steam, you know?”
Dave’s gaze flicked to Kayla. His wife tried to pretend everything was normal, putting away the berries with the same determination she’d harnessed to forge on with their lives the past several months. Even turning her back to set buckets in the refrigerator couldn’t disguise the stiffness with which she carried herself.
James had hammered a sore spot, hitting a little too close to home.
“Holy shit.” Neil jammed his foot in front of the wheel of Dave’s chair when he would have rolled away and locked himself in the bathroom. “Look at your face. You really aren’t getting any, are you? Did the accident affect—”
“What? Jesus! No.” He sputtered, “I can still get it up.”
Mike ushered Kayla from the kitchen. She crumpled onto the end of the bed, with Devon close beside her. Dave was grateful for the bond the two women had formed. He hoped his wife could take solace in that since he’d fucked up their perfect relationship. Maybe it was time to cut her loose so she could find a real man. How long could they go on like this?
“Then why is your wife crying?” Devon bristled on behalf of her friend. “What are you doing? To both of you?”
“Ah, damn. Kay, I’m so sorry.” He paused to gather his courage before ripping his heart out of his chest. Losing her would be a hell of a lot worse than losing the use of his leg and that had just about killed him. He’d never survive. But as long as she was happy, able to find someone who deserved her, that’s all that mattered.
“You are?” She went very still. When she faced him, a glimmer of hope danced in her eyes. “Does that mean you’re ready to quit shutting me out? I miss you, Dave.”
“No, it means I’m ready to leave.” He shoved Neil at crotch level, forcing the tall man away so he could roll. “You deserve better than taking care of me. All of you do.”
Fury contorted Kayla’s features beyond recognition. She never got angry, never mind exhibiting this unholy rage. “How dare you!”
If Joe hadn’t braced the chair, they both would have summersaulted backward at the force of her impact when she flew from the bed and onto his chair. She wasn’t careful of his leg when she straddled him. Fists balled in his shirt, and seams popped as she shook him, rattling his teeth. He could do nothing more than stare, his jaw hanging wide open, when she went ballistic.
And still some part of him registered the feel of his naked wife in his arms.
Mainly the part hardening between them.
Jerking off in the shower every morning and a couple times during the day hadn’t brought him a fraction of the satisfaction she had without even trying.
“You swore to love me for better or worse. This is pretty fucking awful, and you’re stranding me on my own?” Rage evaporated from her, passing as quickly as a violent summer storm. It morphed into something more insidious and painful. Kayla deflated in his arms. She molded perfectly to his chest, then begged, “Please, don’t do this to me. Please don’t choose to leave me. I cried every night you were unconscious in that hospital because I was afraid death would steal you from me. But this…this is worse. You’re a ghost of my husband. A shadow of my best friend. Don’t do this. Please.”
He gulped, unable to argue against her raw agony.
“I can feel you. Your body responds even if your brain is trying to fuck you all up.” She kissed the trails of synchronized tears he hadn’t realized he shed. “Stop doing this to yourself. Stop thinking for two damn seconds and listen to your body.”
“The mangled one? The broken one? Great idea, babe.” He snorted.
“I need you,” Kayla whispered. “Don’t make me suffer alone.”
“I know you’re hurting, bu
t enough is enough.” Devon looked horrified. “Dave, pay attention.”
“You’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.” Mike dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “We won’t let you do this. Fix it while you still can.”
“Why do you want me?” He couldn’t stand the rasp his voice had transformed into. Weakness infiltrated every part of him.
“Because I love you.” Kayla kissed him gently. She tasted divine. Like blueberries and sunshine and promises.
“I’m useless.” He closed his eyes. “I’m not getting better, Kay. How long are we going to act like things are just fine? I’m not. May never be again.”
“Do you think I fell in love with you for your leg?” She bit his earlobe hard enough to sting. “Maybe you hit your head harder than they thought in that crash. If this is how things are, that’s fine. I love you, Dave. However you are.”
He wished he could believe her. What job would he have? A pity role on the crew? Desk jockey for their company? He’d rather not be involved. Living half alive seemed worse than finding a new place.
“Quit thinking so hard.” Morgan laid a hand on his arm despite how he’d treated her.
“The doctors can find nothing wrong with your leg, Dave.” Kayla peppered his face with kisses. “Tests are all positive. Maybe one or two more surgeries will get the nerves talking again.”
“And maybe they won’t.” Dave shook his head.
“Okay, so what?” Joe jiggled the wheelchair. “You’ve already lost enough, without adding your soul mate to that list, haven’t you?”
Dave wanted to argue, but Kayla warmed him. Her body heat penetrated the ice he’d packed around his heart. She rubbed against him like a cat, fuzzing his logic and stealing his arguments. What if this was the last time he ever held her?
Something primal in him roared, wanting to make it count.
He opened his eyes and met her stare. Point blank, they assessed each other.
Kayla raised up enough that she stole the soft pressure from his cock, which had tucked against her through his pants like a tracking missile locked on its target.
