He was a storm breaking over her, his body molding over her back as he continued to pump hard, his groin and belly slapping against her, the moist, slick sounds so lewd and beautiful she squeezed her eyes shut as she was transported to another time with another man.
“Mike!” she cried out as another wave crashed over her.
The moment froze. Gage froze. Still lodged deep, he bent toward her ear. “Crazy as this sounds,” he rasped, “I was hoping you’d scream my name.”
“Sorry,” she said, shaking. “Sorry. Please, don’t stop.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled and glided again, in and out, this time without quite so much fury. This time, raking his cock against the spongy spot of nerves inside her, his motions more deliberate. The tension in the body pressed against her back was more pronounced. “Baby, now,” he whispered, and delivered shorter, targeted thrusts that built the tension inside her again. Quickly, too quickly, she was shooting over the edge.
When he slowed his movements, she held her breath, feeling deflated. Angry with herself. She hadn’t wanted to strike a single negative chord. But she had. In the worst way possible.
When he pulled free, he moved away from her to lie on his back, an arm covering his upper face as sweat dried on his skin.
He didn’t say a word, and she knew it was up to her to explain. She lay on her side, facing him and drawing up her knees toward her chest. “Mike…was my husband.”
His breaths evened. He lowered his arm and aimed a glance her way. His expression was closed. His jaw tight.
“He died in Iraq in 2009. I haven’t been with anyone else. Not before. Not after.”
His taut features softened. For a long, charged moment, he simply stared. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She gave him a tiny smile, feeling foolish. Here she was lying naked and winded after having two amazing orgasms, and she felt like crying. But that wouldn’t be fair. Not to him. “I should probably go.”
“Do you want to go?”
Viv fought back tears. She was more embarrassed now for being such a basket case than being nude with this man. “Not really, but I’m about to get soggy.”
Gage’s mouth twitched. “The bed’s already soggy. But if you want to cry, I’m not afraid.”
What an amazing thing for him to say. If she’d written him, he couldn’t have said a more perfect thing. “I don’t want to cry.” But already, she felt her chin beginning to wobble.
He turned, opened his arms, and waited as she straightened and slid over. When his arms were around her, holding her against his chest, she glanced into his dark eyes. “Thank you.”
His smile was quick flash of white against his tanned face. “That’s supposed to be my line, sweetheart. I’m a happy man. Perfect dinner. Perfect woman in my arms. Hottest sex I can remember.”
“I said it before; you don’t have to flatter me.”
“I wasn’t.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You lost all your lipstick.”
She knew what he was doing. Distracting her. Trying to make her laugh. And already, her tears had dried. Could he get any more attractive? She liked his gruff manner of speech, liked his innate kindness, although she was pretty sure he didn’t show it often. “No, I didn’t lose my lipstick,” she said and rubbed his bottom lip. “Found it.”
His mouth curved, glossed with a hint of red. “Think you might like to stay tonight?”
She’d been prepared to have sex with him. Hot, dirty, quick sex. He wanted more. She held still, expecting to feel a twinge of guilt, but it never came. Snuggling her hips closer, she gave him a small smile. “You do know what I do for a living, right?”
Gage’s one-sided grin was full of devilment. “I do. But, sweetheart, you should know something about me too.” He drew nearer then whispered in her ear, “I’m pretty handy with a rope.”
Chapter Three
The days passed in a surreal whirl of sex and intimate dinners. After her one faux pas, she had thought little of Mike while she was with Gage. Even in the quiet times when they were apart, her memories didn’t haunt her. She could think about Mike and smile, and then look forward to her next encounter with her sexy neighbor, who was quickly proving all those clichés about sexy firefighters and their endless stamina held more than a grain of truth.
By Thursday night, Viv wondered if it had been a mistake not telling Gage the truth about how personally acquainted she was with the type of things she wrote about. From the moment he’d confided he was a member of a local sex club, and then invited her to accompany him there, she’d been too thrilled to think it through.
It wasn’t like she didn’t have the right gear. Or so she hoped. Glancing downward, she had second and third thoughts about entering the club where his friends would see her wearing a corset that cinched her so tightly she could barely breathe and that forced her breasts so high her chin almost touched them.
Okay, so maybe she was exaggerating. A little. The slim-fitting leggings worried her more. They molded over her ass and there wasn’t any space between her thighs. But she didn’t know these people. Wouldn’t see them again after tonight. The outfit she’d kept squirreled away in hopes of someday connecting with someone who could get her into a sex club for some firsthand experience had cost an arm and a leg. She’d be damned if she chickened out now.
She hoped Gage appreciated the effort. And that the heat that always seemed to ignite when he looked at her was there when he saw her. After leaving her at the door of the ladies’ changing room, he’d wandered off. Hopefully not too far, or she’d lose her nerve.
She pushed through the door and stepped out into the corridor to find Gage waiting there, straightening away from the opposite wall. His eyes widened for an instant and quickly trailed down her body. One side of his mouth kicked up before he met her gaze again. “Holy shit.”
She stood, waiting for him to say something else, because she wasn’t one hundred percent sure if his words meant he was pleased or not.
He shook his head and slowly walked around her before halting right in front of her. He tucked a finger under her chin and raised her face—a gesture she was becoming way too fond of. His eyelids were lowered in that sexy, lazy way that made her quiver.
“Walk just behind me. Eyes down. If I sit, you kneel beside me. Got that?”
“Not going to make me sign some sort of agreement first?” she asked, then gave him a one-sided smile.
He snorted. “Do we need one?”
“Guess not.”
“If I do something you don’t like, just tell me, baby.”
“Okay.” And then she licked her lips, because she wanted to be sure he’d noticed she’d worn the lip gloss he’d liked so much on their first date.
He turned and led the way into the open salon where a light techno jazz played, just loud enough to mute sudden bursts of laughter and more intimate sounds. As she trailed behind him, she noted he too had changed—into leather pants that hugged his thighs and awesome rear end, and a T-shirt that lovingly molded to his torso.
They took a stroll through the seating area, past plush sofas illuminated by strategically placed chandeliers. All along the way, she was kept breathless by the sights surrounding her. So many couples…coupling. She wished she had a notepad. The impressions were coming so fast.
She passed one couple sitting face-to-face. The woman, who had a blue streak running through her dark hair, was obviously impaled on her partner’s cock, totally unconcerned that anyone might watch. The man was holding still, making her remain equally still while she glared. Maybe she gave his cock a squeeze, because Viv heard him tsking as she passed them. But she could hardly turn her head around to see what the woman’s punishment would be. Not and keep up with Gage.
They passed a threesome on another sofa. The petite blonde was nearly nude, only a thong to protect the crowd milling nearby
from seeing everything. She lay across the lap of a blond man while he spanked her with his open palm and she bent to suck the cock of a darker man. When Viv raised her gaze to the blond, he gave her a wink, and she gasped, because she recognized him as one of the firemen who’d responded to the call at her apartment.
This time, she stumbled and fell against Gage’s back. He halted, glanced over his shoulder, and gave her the look—the one that had her thanking her stars she was wearing dark pants because she was going to be wet.
But she couldn’t help that her attention was being snagged left and right. She wanted to watch, to take mental notes. She might have written similar scenes in her books, but they’d come from her imagination and diligent research, not from real life.
Gage headed toward a raised stage in one corner of the room. Here was another scene she might have written—if her heroine was a diminutive, redheaded Domme and her hero was the sub. His massive build, every inch revealed, would have done a gladiator proud, but he rested on his knees, his arms outspread because his wrists were shackled and held wide by chains suspended from the ceiling, while he took another man’s cock in his mouth. Despite the deadly glares he leveled on his mistress, he gave full pleasure to the other man who fed him his cock in steady, deepening glides.
Gage halted beside the stage and placed her in front of him. His stubbled cheek rasped against her. “So,” he whispered beside her ear. “Do you prefer to watch or be watched?”
After everything she’d already witnessed, she felt bold. “I can’t like both?” An honest answer, and one he seemed to appreciate since he chuckled.
“Good to know,” he said.
He glided his hands over her waist and moved upward to cup her breasts, and before she could do more than give a startled yip, he’d peeled down the cups covering her to expose her nipples.
The giant on the stage noticed, his gaze sliding to the side to watch while Gage began to pluck the tips. The man adjusted his knees and began to pump his hips, his cock so hard and engorged, she knew he had to hurt.
Viv’s heart raced. Her body grew more fluid as she rested against Gage’s chest while he continued to tug and pinch her nipples until they were as hard as pebbles and aching. She couldn’t help looking around her, wondering if anyone was watching them, and her breath caught when she saw Coop standing with another redheaded woman.
He was watching Viv while his hand was tucked beneath the redhead’s short plaid skirt. The redhead was biting her lower lip, and her eyes were tightly squinched. Noting her stare, Coop gave her a wry smile and winked.
Viv jerked her gaze back to the stage while she tried to stem the blush flooding her cheeks with heat.
“Are you regretting wearing leggings?”
Gage’s graveled voice made her quiver. “Maybe I’m regretting the fact I didn’t choose to be alone with you.”
“We can be as alone as you like. Just you and me?”
She turned her head to catch his eye, wondering what she’d find. Was that a hint of challenge in the arch of his brow? “Just…more alone than this.”
He caught her chin and leaned down to kiss her. “Are you willing to submit to me and a friend? I promise, he won’t fuck your pussy, but we could play…”
She drew a jagged inward breath. “Is that what you want?”
“Baby, I want to find out what you like. If you’d rather it just be us, I’m fine with that. But don’t be shy about letting me know what you might like to explore.”
Explore. She liked that word. So much better than research, which was what she’d carefully assigned this evening to in the filing cabinet of her mind. Explore connoted risk and courage. And with him looking at her like that, his eyelids looking a little sleepy, like they did when they were having sex, how could she resist the temptation to explore? “Please. Invite a friend.”
Only he invited two. A man whose dark hair was trimmed into a mohawk and another overly endowed woman. The man wore only boots and black pants. The woman was in a shiny, PVC bra and short-shorts. Viv’s concern for her own larger figure vanished when the blonde gave her a wide, sexy smile.
They’d just entered a private playroom. The well-insulated room was so quiet the hum of the overhead lights seemed loud. The woman had just finished cleaning the surface of a padded bench with wet wipes.
Mr. Mohawk strode toward Gage and gave him a nod before his gaze slipped to Viv. “So, you’re the lady all of Memphis is talking about.”
Viv wrinkled her nose. “You do know Gage is doing his best to live that moment down.”
Mr. Mohawk grinned and butted his elbow against Gage’s belly. “Tough guy here can take it. Dude, gonna make introductions?”
Gage cleared his throat. “Viviana, this is Anton, one of the club’s Masters. And that pretty lady,” he said, nodding to the blonde, “is Britney.”
By the easy smile Britney gave Gage, Viv had no doubts the two of them had been intimate at one time or another. Maybe numerous times. But she knew that play in a club did not necessarily constitute a relationship, so she withheld judgment. The one certainty was that the blonde’s gaze followed her Dom’s every movement. Anton didn’t appear to notice. Or if he did, he was very good at holding Britney’s interest with very little outward effort.
Anton’s gaze swept Viv head to toe. “Nice getup. Now lose it.”
Viv shot Gage a quick glance, but he only shrugged. “You heard him.”
Stripping for Gage was hard enough. They’d always been alone. She’d been desperate for sex. Right now, she ought to be a hell of a lot more shocked by what she knew was about to come, but maybe it was the fact two very virile, handsome specimens of manhood were giving her their undivided attention…
Viv shut out the noise of her inner voice telling her how many ways this was wrong, how this wasn’t really her. Instead, she plucked at the strings holding her corset together and slowly tugged the bow apart. The corset eased, and she drew a deep breath and let the garment slide past her hips to fall to the floor.
She stepped out of her heels and quickly bent and pushed her leggings downward. Which felt awkward, because there wasn’t any hope in hell she could hide her belly.
Not that either man seemed to care. Both stood hands fisted on their hips as their gazes followed every movement. A rush of heat swept through her, and moisture began to accumulate between her legs. Gage had said Anton wouldn’t fuck her there, but now she was wondering what Gage would actually allow. Had he been specific for a reason?
When she was nude, she straightened and kept her arms lowered, although she really would prefer at least a hand shielding her pussy. Her breasts had been seen by the entire salon as Gage had walked her back to this room. By now, it felt strangely natural for them to be free, and the tips so aroused they were fully sprung. And she rather liked how both men ogled them. She’d liked it better when Gage had plucked and pinched them though, because she was eager to be touched again. Anything to help assuage the ache building in her core. When Anton moved, she suppressed the instinct to jump.
Anton walked around her, letting his hand glide over the side of her hip, cup a buttock and palm a breast. All the while, she reminded herself to breathe, to hold still and keep her gaze lowered.
“You are a goddess,” Anton said, letting the last letters hiss like fire. He lifted her breast and rubbed his thumb over the tip. “Would you allow us to play with you, goddess?”
Her gaze shot to Gage, who gave no reaction, so she looked at Anton again and nodded.
Anton let his hand fall away. “Britney, love. She’s tense. How about you give her a massage to help her relax.”
She’d had massages. This she could handle.
Britney began stripping, carefully folding her clothes and setting them on the mahogany counter of a cabinet that stretched across one side of the room. When she was finished, she nodded to a padded table. “Go
lie down. I’ll gather what I need.” She reached into a drawer and withdrew a hair clip. “You’ll want this. I wouldn’t want to get oil in your hair.”
Feeling self-conscious with just lifting her arms to twist her hair and pin it, Viv did so and walked to the table. She backed onto it, then awkwardly turned and lay face down.
When Britney came to her, she set down towels and a bottle of oil, then climbed onto the table and straddled the tops of Viv’s thighs.
Viviana froze. The other woman’s weight wasn’t too much, but there was moisture touching her skin as Britney moved. Viviana tried not to think about how attractive the other woman was, but she’d gotten an eyeful when Britney had stripped and was instantly curious about how her puffy, rosy-brown nipples would feel, wondered if she waxed or shaved away her pubic hair, a million questions she’d never had the nerve to ask another woman face-to-face. And now she wondered whether Gage would prefer if she removed more of her own hair.
Britney bent over her, letting her breasts rest against Viv’s back. “You’re thinking too much,” she said.
Viviana liked her voice. It was girlish, but not strident, and it seemed to suit her sunny disposition. But this close, that girlie voice was having an unexpected effect on her. Her breasts felt heavier. Her pussy was fast becoming more moist and engorged.
Britney leaned closer and nuzzled against the side of her neck. “I love the way you smell.”
“It’s Ivory,” Viv quipped, which made Britney giggle against her, another sensation that fed her growing arousal.
Thankfully, Britney leaned away. She dribbled oil in a line down the center of Viv’s back and kneaded warm, surprisingly strong hands over her tense muscles. At last, Viv gave a sigh and surrendered to the pleasure of another’s hands on her skin.
She relaxed, her gaze roaming the room and cataloguing the equipment and upholstered benches. The padded mat on the floor. The bed situated against the far wall. All the while, Britney kneaded her muscles, working her way downward. Her fingers lightly skimmed the sides of Viv’s breasts, but Viv didn’t care. She was adrift in pleasure.
Rapid Entry: Firehouse 69, Book 3 Page 3
