Logan swore to himself he'd make up for it. Plus, Logan had forgotten how good it felt to have Ty sheathed within him.
The next time Ty pulled back, he pulled out completely, squirted more lube on his cock. Without hesitation, he shoved it deep.
Logan bucked against him, letting out a loud groan. Ty reached a hand between them and grabbed Logan's balls, circling his thumb and forefinger around the base of Logan's cock and sac. He squeezed, cutting the blood off from Logan's erection—an instant cock ring that made Logan even harder.
Logan felt something brush against his ribs, and he opened his eyes to see Quinn had moved up close to them, staring at where they were joined. Watching Ty's thrusting motion in fascination.
Ty slowed his pace a fraction when Quinn reached out and ran a hand over Ty's chest, down his belly, over Logan's ass, up his spine.
Watching them had turned her on. Her eyes glazed, lids lowered, lips parted.
“What do you want, Quinn?” Logan asked through his clenched teeth.
His question caught her attention, and she looked at him.
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“I don't know.”
“Ah—” Logan gasped as Ty continued his rhythm, his hips against Logan's ass. “Do you…want to join us?”
She bit her lower lip and after a moment nodded her head.
“Towel off.”
She unhooked the corner from the top and unraveled the towel from her body. As she did so, she slipped a hand between her legs and pressed her fingers against her clit.
“Condom.” Logan's command came out more breathless than he would have liked, but of course, he was in the midst of being thoroughly reamed by his big black lover.
He sucked in air through his flared nostrils, trying to concentrate on what Quinn was doing.
She crawled around them, over the mattress, to the nightstand, and found a condom in the drawer.
“Put it on me.”
She ripped the package open with her teeth and took out the latex disc. She shuffled herself back next to them and reached beneath him. She pressed the condom to his throbbing head and rolled it down his length.
Logan cursed and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from coming. Ty continued to thrust deeply. Every few strokes he changed the angle to brush against Logan's prostate.
Logan took a couple of deep breaths before he could speak. “Get under me.”
Logan lifted one arm and let her slide underneath him into the missionary position.
“Spread your legs.”
She did. She was directly underneath him now. Looking up into his face. Her lips were parted, and her breathing came out in quick pants.
Logan realized he was panting too.
“Spread your pussy with your fingers.”
She reached down with both hands, separating the folds of her pussy with her manicured fingers.
Logan lowered himself slowly, not wanting to dislodge Ty, who had paused his movements until Logan got settled.
Logan's cock nudged against Quinn's pussy, finding the right spot.
“Slide down,” he ordered.
And she did, sliding him deep inside her. She was wet enough that there was no resistance. Logan had never felt anything so good in his life. His cock was buried in hot, tight pussy while he had his lover deep within his anal canal.
He could stay like this forever.
Ty had different thoughts. He grunted and thrust against him. Every thrust pushed Logan deep within Quinn.
Quinn squirmed beneath him, crying out with each thrust Ty made. Her hands fluttered aimlessly.
“Pinch your nipples,” Logan directed.
She squeezed her breasts together, kneading them, her fingers twisting both of her nipples. Her hips tilted, bringing Logan in farther, and she thrust against him. Logan stayed perfectly still as Quinn fucked him from underneath and Ty fucked him from behind.
Logan dropped his head to Quinn's shoulder; he was having a hard time holding his weight off her. His arms started to shake. He licked her skin along her collarbone and up her neck. He found a tender spot and nipped her. She threw her head back and arched up against him, grinding her clit against his groin. Logan's balls tightened, and he just wanted to let go.
Quinn sank back to the mattress, and Logan put his forehead against hers.
“Quinn,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes and met his. Then, at once, her eyes widened. She arched her back again and cried out. He felt the tremors around his cock as she came. Never once breaking their gaze.
Logan let go, a guttural groan escaping from deep within him. He spilled his seed, his cock throbbing within her.
A second later Ty grunted loudly and pressed against him tightly, making small, deep thrusts as he shot his cum deep within Logan.
They were damp, sticky, and satisfied, but too tired to move. Finally Ty did, releasing Logan, his spent cock slipping out. Ty bent over and laid a kiss on Logan's ass.
Logan collapsed to Quinn's side, careful not to crush her. He let out a long breath.
“Damn,” was all he could say.
“Damn,” Quinn said, her eyes shut, her body relaxed, but still in the position where Logan left her.
Ty fell to the mattress on the other side of Quinn. “Damn. Next time I want to be in the middle.”
The bed shook with their lazy laughter.
Chapter Seven
What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.
After gathering some energy the night before, they had showered—again—before collapsing into a pile on the bed like a litter of puppies. All tangled arms and legs.
After a hearty but healthy breakfast, Ty disappeared, and Quinn helped Logan clean up the kitchen.
Logan scrubbed the dishes. Quinn rinsed and stacked them into the dishwasher. The kitchen was enormous and had every appliance anyone would ever need. And then some.
When they were finished, Quinn sank down into one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee. She took a cautious sip.
The woodworking in the kitchen, along with the rest of the house she'd seen so far, looked like it was handmade. The cabinets were beautiful, almost works of art. The natural grain of the wood had been brought out by the stain that had been used.
“Ty and I built this house.”
Logan's comment drew her gaze away from admiring the handiwork and onto him. “Just the two of you?”
His hair was loose around his face, a little wild, and his beard a bit longer, as he hadn't taken the time to trim it that morning. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. His jeans fit him well in all the right spots, and his worn black Johnny Cash T-shirt hugged his muscles, the sleeves not long enough to hide his ropy biceps. They were very nice, but definitely not as big or as defined as Ty's.
“Mostly. We had some subcontractors here and there. Electrical, concrete, stuff like that. Ty's good with his hands.”
“Yes, he is.” Quinn felt the heat rush up into her cheeks when Logan laughed. “Well, anyway, it's a gorgeous home.”
Logan tilted his head and studied her. “I like how you said home and not house.”
“Well, it feels like a home. Not just a shelter.”
Logan didn't say anything for a moment. He just stared at her.
Suddenly feeling uneasy, Quinn rose and moved in front of the French doors, which opened up to a huge wooden deck. The sunlight through the glass warmed her face, while the coffee she sipped warmed her shaky insides.
Quinn felt Logan move up behind her and watched his reflection in the glass. He reached past her to flip the lock on the door and pulled it open.
“C'mon. Let's go outside. It's really nice out.”
She followed him out onto the deck, stepping carefully so her bare feet wouldn't catch a splinter. She walked to the far end of the deck and leaned against the railing. Logan stepped into her, wrappin
g his arms tightly around her, and pulled her back against him. She leaned into his chest, stilling enough to feel his heartbeat against her shoulder blade. It was slow, steady, and soothing.
She looked out over the fields surrounding the house. The land was mostly flat, and there were acres and acres of grass, as far as her eyes could see. All well maintained. It was what a well-manicured lawn would look like for a giant's home.
“You have a beautiful place here.”
He rested his chin on her shoulder and murmured, “Thanks.”
“What made you become a sod farmer?”
“I don't know really. I sort of just fell into it, I guess. My uncle, who lives in Kentucky, manages a sod farm there, and I visited him one summer when I was in high school. He put me to work, and I thought it was an easy way to be a farmer. A lot easier than cows or pigs.”
Quinn chuckled. “That was your only option? To be a farmer?”
He shrugged against her. “Well, it was either grow legal grass or grow illegal grass. My uncle kinda set me straight on that too.”
Quinn turned slightly, trying to see his expression, but Logan held her tighter and kept his chin on her shoulder.
“My mom sent me away that summer because I was becoming a bit of a handful for her. She was a single mom, and I was starting to run with the wrong crowd.”
Quinn kept silent, waiting to see if he'd reveal more. He didn't. She had a feeling there was much, much more.
“Did she know you were gay back then?”
Logan stiffened. He let her go and stepped back from her. “I'm not gay.”
Quinn turned and opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. His expression was dark and closed. He had curled his fingers into fists, his arms stiff by his sides.
“If I were gay, I wouldn't like women. I love women.” He shook his head, his hair sweeping against his face. He closed his eyes, took two breaths, before opening them again. Quinn could see him visibly relax once more; his fingers uncurled, and his shoulders lowered.
“Quinn, I can see how you'd think we're gay. But in reality, we're bisexual.”
“Sorry.” She looked down at her bare toes. “I didn't mean to upset you. This is all new to me.” That was an understatement.
Within two strides he had a hand under her chin and an arm wrapped around her back. He tilted her face up. “No, I'm sorry. I've lived with that stereotype for a long time.”
He leaned in and brushed his nose against hers. An Eskimo kiss.
“I'm glad this is all new to you. I want you to enjoy this weekend and experience things you've never experienced before.”
He took her mouth then. He possessed it for his own, kissing her thoroughly enough that Quinn shivered and pressed her thighs together. Her pussy pulsated and slickened. He slid a hand into her hair and bent her head back, deepening the kiss, sliding his hand down to grasp her buttocks and pull her into him, against his already-hardening cock.
Without a warning, he stepped back, breaking the kiss, breaking the contact. His lips were shiny, her cheeks burned from his beard.
Quinn curled her toes and closed her eyes, willing her heart to stop pounding so hard. She swallowed hard. After a moment she looked at him.
He extended his hand to her. “C'mon, I'll give you a tour of a real, honest-to-goodness sod farm.”
* * *
They rode in the cab of a monster tractor. More like a lawn mower on steroids. It was a scary piece of machinery, and Quinn wondered if a special license was needed to drive it. It had all sorts of levers she was careful to avoid bumping into.
That was the last thing she needed to do—drop the mower down and ruin one of his perfect fields. It'd be like taking a pair of clippers and accidently bumping them against someone's head, giving them a nice bald spot where there wasn't one before.
No. She was keeping her hands to herself as she rode on Logan's lap, both of them bouncing on the super-springy seat. Luckily the cab was air-conditioned; it had turned out to be a very warm day. Logan even had a stereo in the thing, one he could plug his iPod into. Popular country music played in the background as he strummed his fingers along her denim-clad thighs.
They went out to a far field, and Logan demonstrated how the equipment was used as he drove up and down the field in an organized fashion, trimming the grass to a perfect length to promote thickness.
She learned the groundhog was not the sod farmer's best friend. Nor were deer. She didn't ask how he got rid of the pesky critters, but there was a shotgun hanging across the back of the cab. She was fortunate they didn't run into any unwanted guests while they were driving around. She was not in the mood to watch him blow the head off Punxsutawney Phil. Not that she gave a crap about overgrown rodents…
His hand, when not needed for shifting, drifted up along her ribs. His thumb brushed back and forth, almost without thought, along the bottom of her breast. Quinn was fully aware of it, though. Her nipples pebbled under her halter top. She wanted more than the occasional shifter hand on her, but the other was needed to steer.
He made long passes back and forth through the field as he mowed, the smell of fresh-cut grass permeating the sealed cab.
“Smells good,” she finally said, breaking their comfortable silence.
He nuzzled her neck for a moment. “Hmm. Sure does.”
Quinn slapped his arm lightly. “No. The grass.”
“Grass is an aphrodisiac,” he said, turning his head to make a tight turn for another pass along the field.
“It is?”
His chuckle vibrated against her. “It is for me.”
She softly slapped his arm again. He was so full of shit. “Very funny.”
“Slap me again and I'll stop and put you over my knee.” His eyes darkened, and he returned his hand from the shifter knob to her waist.
Quinn's heart rate increased as she pictured his threat. Her pussy pulsed against his hard thigh.
“I felt that.”
“And I feel you,” she countered. His cock was hard against her hip. She rocked her hips slightly. “I guess I could take advantage of you while you are busy mowing.”
“You could.” He gave her a heated glance. “But that might be dangerous.”
Quinn smiled and ran a hand up his chest. She fingered his nipple ring through his thin T-shirt.
“Quinn,” he warned, his thigh flexing beneath her rump.
The tractor sputtered and jerked them forward, making Logan quickly shift to a lower gear to smooth out the speed.
“See?”
“Maybe we need a break.”
“You're bad. But I have a break planned soon enough.”
Quinn tilted her head and looked at his profile. His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, which was tucked through the back of a baseball cap bearing Logan's company's name. If it weren't for the ponytail, he'd look like every other country hick who ran around in oversize tractors. She brushed a knuckle against his rough beard.
She smiled when his jaw flexed. “You like to be in charge, don't you?”
He didn't answer her, just concentrated on keeping the mower in a straight line.
“You do. You wouldn't like it if I went against your plan and straddled you right now, would you?” Her voice was low and teasing.
“I'd wreck.”
“No, you'd have to stop the tractor.”
“I told you we'll be taking a break soon.”
“But not right now.”
His jaw tensed. “No.”
“But if I slapped you again, you'd stop, put me over your knee, and spank me.” It wasn't a question. She knew he might do it. She was tempted to test him. She remembered the sting of her skin when he had spanked her last time. She begrudgingly admitted to herself she had liked it.
Nothing wrong with playing a little slap and tickle out in the middle of nowhere.
He still hadn't looked at her; he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. His lips pressed into a thin line. She couldn't tell if it was wi
th anger or desire. His cock was still as hard as steel against her, making her think it was the latter.
With a wicked grin, she reached out and tugged his nipple ring through the shirt. Hard.
“Fuck!” He slammed both feet on the clutch and brake pedal, bringing them up short. Quinn lost her balance and fell forward, banging her thigh against the gear shift before landing in a heap on the floor. There wasn't much room in the cab, and she ended up wedged between the floor and the dash. All the air whooshed out of her lungs, and she let out a painful groan.
“Shit.” Logan yanked up the emergency-brake handle and stood up. He grabbed Quinn's outstretched hands, pulled her up, and settled her into the cab's single tractor seat. He went to one knee in the tight quarters, looking her over. Concern crossed his features. “Are you okay?”
Quinn nodded her head, a little shaky. She was okay, wasn't she? She mentally did a body check. Besides a scrape on her elbow and an ache in her hip, she was fine. No blood gushing, no broken bones, no major bruising.
Just a little bit of a bruised ego.
His relief quickly turned to anger. “That was bullshit, Quinn. You could have been seriously hurt.” He stood and unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops. The sound of soft brown leather sliding against the rougher denim sent a shiver down her spine.
Quinn's eyes widened. Was he angry enough to spank her with a belt? That was just crazy. “Logan, I'm sorry—”
“It's too late for that. Do you know what happens to bad girls who can't keep their hands to themselves?”
Quinn opened her mouth, but nothing came out, since she was picturing some options in her head. Some excited her; the others just scared her.
“Give me your hands.”
“Logan…” Her breath caught in her throat.
“Give. Me. Your. Hands.” His command was slower the second time, more forceful and in a much-lower tone. A tone that said, Don't fuck with me.
She held out one hand. He shook his head.
“Both.”
She added the other one. Somewhat reluctantly.
“Put them together.”
Double Dare Page 8
