by Lora Leigh
Yes, he had been out of the game, but he wasn't nearly as rusty as Jethro was accusing him of being.
"I can still kick your ass," Mac assured him.
Jethro stretched lazily. "Expect to back up that claim, my friend, because this week we'll be sparring."
Mac grinned as he settled deeper into the pillows, his arms holding, sheltering Keiley as he drifted off to sleep. He trusted Jethro to watch his back. But even more, he was starting to realize that he trusted Jethro to watch his wife's back, which was infinitely more important.
Chapter 13
The next morning, towel wrapped around her and fresh from the shower, Keiley left Jethro's bathroom with every intention of going to her own before dressing.
Her essentials were in her bathroom, her lotions and scents and the light makeup she wore through the day. But the minute she walked out of the bathroom, she knew she wasn't going anywhere for a while.
She faced the two men who had broken through barriers she hadn't known she had last night. Men who had touched her with a passion and hunger she hadn't expected, then protected her through the night with a dedication that had left her shaken.
She stared at her husband as he slowly pulled the dark t-shirt from his body, revealing the finely sculpted muscles of his chest with the light scattering of black hair across it.
On the other side of the bed, Jethro followed suit. He wasn't as heavily muscled as Mac, but the mat of hair was a little thicker, his hard body leanly muscled and compact.
A scar she hadn't noticed the night before ran from his chest to his abs. The wicked mark against the darkly tanned flesh reminded her of the dangerous career he and Mac had chosen.
Flicking her gaze between them, her hands knotted on the towel covering her as she cleared her throat with a hint of hesitation.
"I'm a little sore," she said breathlessly, her rear clenching at the slight ache that had been left from last night's excess.
"There are other ways." Mac's voice was low, but nothing could disguise the hunger in it. It lent a rough edge to his tone, a dominant strength that had a tremor racing down her spine.
Her gaze moved to Jethro. He had held her as she slept, she knew. She remembered drifting awake several times to feel his arms around her, to smell his scent enveloping her.
"This sort of relationship is all about trust, Kei," Jethro said then, moving closer, his blue eyes heavy-lidded. "There are no recriminations and there never will be. No guilt.
No pressure. If you want to call a halt, then all you have to do is say the word."
"And if I say the word?" she asked curiously.
"Then I back off." He shrugged as he moved slowly around her, stopping as he stood at her back. "It's that simple. And when you're ready again, all you have to do is say so."
She stared back at her husband. Jethro might back off, but she could see the flames burning in Mac's eyes. She was finding that when it came to this particular hunger, he was resolute.
She could see the pleasure in his eyes as Jethro's hands touched her shoulders. They were calloused, but not as roughly as Mac's. Still, though, they rasped over her flesh as he smoothed them over her shoulders and down her arms to her elbows. There he pulled her arms back, forcing her to release the towel and to curl them around his neck instead.
"Damn, you're beautiful," Mac growled, watching. Watching as Jethro slowly pulled the towel from her body.
Keiley gasped as the cool air in the room and the heated sensation caused by Mac's gaze on her suddenly tightened nipples sent a wave of helpless pleasure racing through her.
Mac didn't move from where he stood, but the lithe flex and rippled of muscle as he shed his sweatpants and revealed the steel-hard erection beneath them was too arousing.
His fingers curled around the base, his biceps flexing as he tightened his hand on his cock:
"I want to watch you, Keiley. You and Jethro. I want to watch the pleasure suffuse your face, your body. I want to see what I'm always too dazed by pleasure to watch when I'm taking you."
Her eyes widened as Jethro's hands slid to her waist before flattening on her stomach.
Her arms started to fall from his neck.
"Keep them there," Jethro growled, his honeyed voice firm and resolute. "Don't move your arms. Stay where he can see you."
"Mac." His name was a whispered protest.
Mac shook his head slowly, the midnight strands of hair caressing his shoulders as he watched her with lashes half lowered over his steel-gray eyes.
'Just feel, Kei," he said. "Just let me watch. Let me see your pleasure. Do you know the high I get watching you come undone? Watching the pleasure mount and mount until you're helpless beneath the rush of ecstasy?"
Keiley was shaking. She could feel the tremors racing through her body, helpless beneath the astounding wash of hunger that his words evoked.
How could anyone deny the look in his eyes? Possessiveness, it was there. Keiley had a feeling that once Jethro walked out of their lives, what they had now would never happen again. Burning hunger blazed in his expression. For whatever reason, he needed this. Like other men needed a kiss, needed the words of love, Mac needed this. It was affirmation of some sort to him. And it raised questions Keiley knew she would eventually have to ask.
And there was love. She could see his love for her glittering more fiercely now than ever before. There was no way she could doubt it. He might be allowing another man to touch her body, but at that moment she could feel Mac touching her soul.
"I want to watch him take you, Kei."
A breathless moan slipped past her lips as Jethro's hands smoothed higher, his palms cupping the undercurves of her too-sensitive, swollen breasts. He lifted them as though in offering before his fingertips rubbed over the tips with heated precision.
Her knees weakened. Fire rocked through her veins. Then, just as quickly, she was being turned, lifted into Jethro's arms, and laid carefully in the center of the bed.
She watched as Jethro stripped his pants from his body, his erection springing free, tipped with moisture and flushed with lust. Mac's cock was a bit thicker, Jethro's was a bit longer. Both men were impressively endowed with the sexual expertise to use it effectively.
Narrowing her eyes and flickering her gaze between both men, Keiley arched on the bed, her hands sliding up her stomach and down again as the heated ache between her thighs began to increase.
"You could join us," she whispered to her husband.
She wasn't certain how she felt about this, having him merely watch as another man touched her, kissed her, possessed her. She couldn't control her responses, couldn't control the eroticism that rose inside her as she glimpsed the approval in Mac's gaze.
"I want to watch," he murmured. "I want to see you taken away by the pleasure. How you look when you hold nothing back."
She licked her lips nervously. "I've only done that with you, Mac."
"And I'm here," he assured her, moving closer to the bed as Jethro came down beside her.
"It's not the same." She jerked as Jethro's lips touched her shoulder, his tongue licking over the flesh and sending a spike of electric sensation racing through her.
She had only ever responded to Mac this way. Now, beneath his gaze, her body was responding to another man, the flares of sensation tearing through her, clawing across her nerve endings in violent hunger.
And his touch wasn't like Mac's. His lips were a little rougher, his tongue just as adventurous, but the texture of it rasping more than her husband's.
It didn't stop her from responding, from moaning with the sensuality racing through her.
"It's not supposed to be the same," he whispered as Jethro leaned over her, his fingers touching her jaw, turning her face to him. "It's supposed to be hotter, more intense. It's supposed to make you weak with need, Keiley. It's supposed to make you wet and wild.
That's what I want to see. That's what I need to see."
The truth of it was in his gaze, in his voice so filled with hunger. Her chest clenched with a sudden shaft of pain. What had happened in her husband's past to have caused this? Surely something darker and more vicious than he had so far told her.
She stared up at Jethro helplessly then.
"Shh," he whispered, as though he could see into her, could see the sudden fear that grew inside her for her husband. "There's no pain here. Only pleasure."
Only pleasure? A pleasure derived from the need to escape the pain?
Her hands lifted, touched his face, her fingertips skimming over his high cheekbones, the dark brow, then into his overly long hair.
Hair nearly as black as Mac's, but with dark brown shades threading through it. It wasn't the silky softness of her husbands, it was coarser, though not as thick.
She watched as his expression tightened with her touch, an almost desperate light filling his gaze before he swiftly closed his eyes for a long second.
When they reopened, it was gone, but the blazing hunger remained. In his gaze and in his kiss.
The kiss caught her off guard. It was like Mac used to kiss her. Without apology.
Without asking. Without the natural gentleness that came with three years of marriage. It was the kiss of a man who made no apologies for his desires and no excuses.
"You like that, don't you, Kei?" Mac whispered. "I see how he's kissing you. You like having your lips taken."
She couldn't deny it. She couldn't affirm it. She was too busy fighting the response that threatened to swamp her.
"Don't fight it, sweetheart." Mac's voice was a low, rough growl of rising hunger. "Let me see your pleasure. Your need. Give in to it."
She whimpered as Jethro nipped at her lips, stroked them with his tongue, and pushed his fingers into her hair to hold her head in place. He was restraining her movements, but not her response. Where it
welled from, she wasn't certain. From some dark inner part of her soul that reveled in the extremity of taking another man as her husband egged her on. In letting her own sensuality free, letting it rule rather than being concerned with how he might look upon her for being ruled by it.
Her arms wrapped around Jethro's shoulders, her fingers playing with his longer hair, pulling at it, tugging his lips closer as her tongue touched his.
As though she had struck a match to gasoline, Jethro's response exploded over her. His muscles tightened and flexed, his cock jerked against her hip, and one long leg tangled with hers.
Suddenly the flaming need was whipping around her, through her, over her. Her lips parted further, taking his kiss and returning it, drawing it into her before giving it back.
Lips and tongues battled in a dance of erotic fervor. Hands stroked sensitive flesh. His were broader, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples, hers smaller, stroking up his back, tangling in his hair, feeling the muscles shifting in his shoulders.
Her nails scraped over his flesh, and he groaned in response. His lips tore from hers, stringing heated kisses down her neck as she arched and silently pleaded for more.
She forced her eyes open as Jethro's lips moved to her breasts, only to whimper in rising heated desire. Mac still stood by the bed, slowly stroking his cock, his gaze dark, his expression clouded with pleasure and approval. With a surfeit of love as his gaze met hers, and wicked, carnal knowledge, his eyes dropped to where Jethro's tongue was slowly curling around her nipple, sending a whiplash of naked fire to flay her nerve endings.
God help her, just as he wanted, she was coming undone.
Mac watched as Keiley's eyes began to glaze over, then dropped to where Jethro ministered to her nipples with seductive abandon.
Broad male hands cupped her breasts, lifting first one, then the other to the wicked lash of his tongue, then to his suckling mouth. Her nipples darkened, becoming cherry in color rather than the innocent pink of pre-arousal.
The delicate tip disappeared into Jethro's mouth as his cheeks began to draw deeply.
Mac knew what pleased his wife, just as he knew from watching his friend repeatedly how he tormented tender, sensitive nipples.
His tongue was lashing at it. Keiley jerked with each flick of a tongue against her highly sensitive nipples. She was trembling now, shuddering, her nails creating indents in the hard muscles of Jethro's naked, tense shoulders.
Moans slipped from her lips as Jethro began to slip down her torso. He strung kisses along her perspiration-slick flesh. Tender skin that shimmered with life and moisture. His tongue licked over the lightly salty essence of her, causing her to shudder as her hands pushed him lower.
Mac grimaced with rising hunger, his hand tightening on the shaft of his cock at the sight of Keiley pushing Jethro to the soft folds between her thighs.
She loved having her pussy licked. She kept the soft curls that shielded it trimmed to the perfect length so they were still soft, yet didn't impair the pleasure Mac found in going down on her.
Jethro would appreciate that, though Mac knew that eventually he would press her to have the plump little mound waxed. Something Mac had put off, waiting, he knew, for Jethro's arrival.
Jethro eased lower, spreading her thighs wider, wedging his shoulders between them and revealing the glistening curls to Mac's gaze.
His friend's eyes lifted, a question in them. Mac grimaced in rising lust. Watching this, having the chance to watch Keiley's pleasure, knowing that the intensity was greater for the extremity of the act, had his own pleasure spiking higher.
He could watch her. Gauge her response. See her coming apart and know that the pleasure she was receiving was greater than any he could give her alone. He wasn't sharing her. He was giving to her.
He nodded slowly to Jethro, finally answering the question in the other man's eyes.
They had done this so many times before that Mac felt a shimmer of amusement that the other man would ask permission to continue at this point.
But once that permission was given, Jethro didn't hesitate. With his thumbs he parted the soft folds, revealing the glistening pearl-pink flesh saturated with sweet female syrup.
It was thick, sweeter than candy, slick, and Mac knew that the fresh, soft scent of it would make Jethro crazy.
The other man loved eating pussy. He loved the taste, texture, and exciting heat to be found only between soft thighs and aroused folds.
His head lowered, though he was careful to make certain Mac could see every lick, every promise he gave to the trembling flesh.
Keiley's clit was swollen now, glistening nearly red with the aroused fervor whipping through her. Jethro rimmed it slowly, then closed his lips over it and suckled with delicate greed as one hand moved lower.
"Oh God! Jethro!" Keiley cried out, her head whipping from side to side before her eyes suddenly jerked open and she tensed, her eyes moving to him.
As though she had just realized she had screamed another man's name.
Jethro didn't ease in his caresses. Mac watched the battle on her face, the fight to stare back at him versus the need to close her eyes and let herself fly.
"Let go," he whispered, moving closer to her, kneeling on the bed to touch her cheek, his thumb whispering over her lips. "Let me see you let go. It doesn't matter whose name you scream, baby. We're both here."
Her hips jerked, arched. Mac gritted his teeth against the hunger tearing him apart. He knew what that meant. Jethro's fingers were filling her, stroking inside her, fucking her with slow, sweet strokes as she began to shake with the need to release.
"I know what he's doing to you," he told her as she stared back at him, helpless. "He's fucking that tight pussy, his fingers filling it, burning with the grip you have on them."
Her lips parted with breathless pleasure as he glanced down her body once again.
Jethro's eyes were closed, his tongue dancing around
her straining clit, licking, drawing the heated syrup to his lips until it clung to them with
glistening sweetness.
Mac lowered himself to the bed, his arm going beneath her neck, holding her head to his chest as he continued to watch. Watched the sweetest pussy in the world as it creamed for Jethro's mouth. Watched as her clit disappeared inside the other man and, seconds later, she screamed his name, jerking, writhing as Mac held her to him, feeling her orgasm ripping through her.
"I need her." Jethro jerked to his knees and tucked his cock against the fragile folds of Keiley's slick flesh.
Jethro pressed her legs further apart, opening the plump lips further to reveal the dark pink flesh hugging the tip of his cock.
With one arm Mac held Keiley close as he stroked his own dick with his other hand.
Son of a bitch, he was going to be lucky to last until she came again.
He was going to be lucky to last until Jethro buried fully inside her.
He was working his cock in, the head disappearing, then reemerging, slick and glistening with her inner juices before disappearing again.
Keiley's sharp little teeth bit into his chest as he watched Jethro wedge inside her a little deeper with each stroke.
"Ah God. She's so fucking tight." Jethro breathed roughly. "So hot. So tight. God help me." He impaled her farther, pulled back, the sweet juices clinging to his cock like threads of damp satin before he penetrated once again.
It seemed to take forever. With each stroke inside her Mac's fingers tightened on his cock, stroking it, feeling the blistering heat of her pussy through memory alone.
Jethro felt his soul rocking. He stared at where he was penetrating Keiley, barely half-impaled, and he was ready to release. He could feel the pre-cum welling from the head of his cock before he suddenly stilled. He stared at the naked length of his erection that he had yet to bury inside her before his gaze jerked to Mac.
The knowledge that he wasn't wearing a condom was in the rueful, amused glimmer of his friend's eyes.
Jethro swallowed tightly. God, if he had to pull free and sheathe himself, lose the feeling whipping through his dick, he would die.
