Fly (Wild Love Book 2)

by Red L. Jameson

  I smile yet again.

  “Your hair is so long,” Jay says quietly.

  I’m relaxing now, even with two penises slightly touching my stomach. Relaxing so much that my head keeps bobbing as H and Jay massage my scalp.

  “Have you ever grown your hair longer?” H asks, his voice reverent like Jay’s.

  I nod. “Once. I grew it to my bum. But it was always in the way, and even putting it into a ponytail was a pain in the ass, taking two years to get all of it up and off my face.”

  H and Jay softly chuckle.

  “I love you hair.”

  I don’t know who said this. Both men sound about the same by then. Low, guttural, quiet, strained.

  “Thank you.” I open my eyes and glance at one man then the other. “I love your hair too, the both of you.”

  Jay laughs louder. “This is—talking about hair—”

  I smile wider. “Too girly for you? Want to talk about sports? You catch that Viking game last week?”

  “Nice try,” H says, rubbing my hair to the very ends. He seems to love it when one of his knuckles runs across my nipple and I shudder. Yet he continues, trying to act innocent but his wild dark gaze gives him away. “The Super Bowl was last week. And the Vikings didn’t play.”

  I sigh and roll my eyes. But then I catch sight of both their bodies wet. Oh, so wet. They glisten and the light from the shower has changed, turning both men into shining gods. They’re both so hard. Not just their cocks. Their whole bodies. They seem tense, but I’m pretty sure I exhibit the same tenseness.

  And I can’t help but wonder if maybe having sex this very second wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

  22

  “Rinse,” H says and effortlessly pushes me into the spray.

  Tilting my head back, letting the warm water roll over me, I wonder if I’m smiling too much. Jay is still massaging my head, helping get all the suds out. But it’s H, the man who’s always asking if he’s going too fast, who’s exploring my stomach. His hands wrap around my waist briefly, his fingers stretching. He’s such a big man I can feel the span of his hands all the way around to my back. He makes me feel tiny. I don’t know why I like that so much. Oh, I guess it’s because I’ve always felt so large when compared to other women. I know I’m not tall, but I’m also not thin, which I’ve always been embarrassed about.

  But now, in this shower with two men who are treating me like I’m someone so precious and sexy, I wonder if I need to keep feeling embarrassed about my body, my thighs that have helped me walk through Afghanistan and parts of Africa, my breasts that seem to give these men so much pleasure, my abdomen that’s soft but strong enough to hold a baby.

  I’m not sure, but I think they’ve read my mind because they both move closer, as if sensing how turned on I am, how I’m not sure if I should keep restraining this lust. Still under the warm spray of water, Jay kisses me. Water invades my mouth as much as Jay’s tongue. My hair clings to the coconut scent, but I also smell Jay’s clean body—leather and pine, so masculine. He wraps an arm around me, his fingers traveling south, right to my ass. His erection is pressing into the side of stomach. And pressing. With my eyes still closed, I wrap an arm around his neck and reach out for H. He’s close. I touch his chest, all firm muscle, his heart beating wildly, his breath fast.

  Jay kisses my cheek, moving to my ear, one of his hands flat on my belly. “This is the best shower I’ve ever had.”

  I softly giggle but stop when he kisses down my neck. H helps move me out of the spray, so I can open my eyes, and he kisses me as soon as I do. I wrap an arm around his neck. His warm hands slide along my back and stomach, a thumb just touching the base of my breast. To which, I push my tongue in his mouth. He rubs back and forth along my stomach, that thumb of his getting bolder and bolder, moving closer to my nipple.

  Honestly, I was concerned I might feel claustrophobic with two men. At once. They’re both kissing me—H my lips, Jay my neck. Their erections are pressing into me. Their firm bodies against mine. But I don’t feel squeezed or the need for air. I just need them.

  I pull away from H’s kiss long enough to look at him and smile. God, I like him. Jay stops kissing my neck and straightens, also towering over me like H is. I was going to say how this is the best shower I’ve ever taken too, but Jay, oh that Jay, cups one of my breasts.

  I suck in a breath, amazed at the feeling of his large and calloused hand against me. He moans and H’s gaze zeroes in on my chest. I feel his cock jerk. I could be wrong, but I think he likes watching me take pleasure in what Jay’s doing. I think he likes it a lot.

  As much as I want to give in and let the men do whatever they want to me, I desire something else more. Taking a step away from them bodily hurts. But I’ve got to in order to take control. I want them so much. I want them in my mouth, in my pussy. However, much of my life, especially in these kinds of circumstances, I’ve felt…powerless. My body almost always wanted sex. And I was desperate for…love or even a shred of affection. Which meant, I’d wind up feeling weak and all the worse when the guy I’d just had sex with would leave.

  So right now, I need to feel in control, that I have just as much power as they do, especially because it is two against one.

  I take their hands and walk around them, effectively spinning them until they’re closer to the spray at the front of the shower.

  “Oh, my dirty boys,” I whisper.

  H smiles.

  Letting go of their hands, I find a bar of aloe-scented soap.

  “You going to make us clean, Dee?” Jay’s voice is so raw, so strained it echoes through the shower, into my body, teasing my clit.

  I rub the soap in my hands, making a thick lather. “Oh, yes.”

  I have to put the soap back on the tile tray, so I have both hands available for whatever I want to do. And I want to do so much. Slowly, as if I’m in a dream, I reach out and touch both men in the middle of their chests. Oh, to feel their echoing heartbeats, to feel the firmness of their muscles twitch at my touch, to feel the rigidness of their breastbones under my hands—it’s almost too much to take. My knees are weak. My breathing is spastic, at best.

  However, I’m not going to let a little lightheadedness get in my way. Not when it comes to their bodies. I slither my hands down their stomachs, so tight and tough. Then slide back up to sweep here and there on their massive chests. They are both such different men—H with his long leanness, Jay with his massive muscles, but both men are so strong, so capable of doing whatever they want to me. But they’re letting me take control.

  I step closer, watching my hands lather their skin. H’s chest hair tickles my palm as Jay’s smoothness intrigues me. Getting more soap, I make a sloppy mess of lather, then return to my exploration of their bodies. This time I begin at their thighs. God, Jay’s legs look like he could lift houses. H looks like he could run miles. Maybe they could.

  “Dee.” Jay’s strained voice is only a whisper now.

  “So good,” H says, tilting his head back, letting a stream of water wash over him.

  Somehow they know I don’t want them to touch me right now. Oh, I love the way they caress me, but…but there’s something about this moment, this first time, where I need to know that I can stop things, that if things get too intense then it will end. But their hands are fisted beside their hips. Jay’s balled hands are flexing over and over again, especially as I get closer and closer to the apex of their legs.

  H’s breathing is even faster, and it distracts me. His six-pack undulates with each breath.

  Tentatively, I reach up and cup their balls. They both moan and tilt their heads back. They’re both so heavy, so tight. They want to have sex with me. On the very tip of Jay’s cock a pearl of moisture beads. Oh, they want sex badly. But they’re waiting for me. And how much of a turn on is that?

  I soap their bollocks, standing closer, feeling their cocks strain and sometimes twitch against my stomach. “Feel good?”

  Jay growls and H look
s down with a smile that says how much he’d like to nail me against the wall, spread my legs, and be inside me. I can almost see his intentions. But he swallows and nods.

  “So fucking good.” His gaze is molten hot and the apex of my legs begins to ache, wanting to be filled.

  While looking at him, I fist around the bases of both men’s cocks, slowly sliding up.

  Jay grunts and sways closer to me, his hands reaching out, but he stops himself, panting. “I really like it when you make me clean, honey.”

  I softly chuckle. “Well, I’m loving making you clean.”

  “I might like it too much,” H whispers. “It’s been a long time for me. Might be too excited. Already.”

  “Yeah.” Jay nods. “I might make a mess of things soon if you keep this up.”

  I’m sliding up and down their thick, beautiful cocks and thinking about having them in my mouth, when I say, “Maybe I want you to make a mess of things.”

  H moans, stepping closer. I feel his breath on the top of my head, but he won’t touch me. Not unless I tell him too.

  This is a game I’ve never played before. Oh sure, I have an acquaintance who’s into dominance sex play, likes to be tied up and tied down. But it’s never really appealed to me. I guess because I have this idea that BDSM is for billionaire men who want to dominate virginal women. That’s not me, so…yeah, not much of a turn on. And I’d seen women dominating men on some magazines or online, but they were usually in some latex outfit and looked like they had a part-time job working for the X-Men. Definitively not for me.

  But being in control of two men while they let me explore their bodies, let me give them pleasure, this is much more of a turn on than I ever thought it would be. I’m so aroused I can feel my wetness on my thighs. My nipples are almost constantly contracting. And there’s this sensation that if I let H or Jay touch my clit, I’d climax. I feel so close already. Even though having an orgasm, in the past, hasn’t exactly been easy for me.

  Jay steps closer too, leaning his forehead against the top of my head. “Oh, honey, you’re going to…” Part of his chest is against my shoulder and he’s almost gasping for air. All because of me.

  “I want you to…” My voice is sex-kitten through and through, making both men groan.

  I’m stroking them faster and faster, the soap a wonderful lubricant for what I want, which is to have them lose control.

  Jay’s heavy chest leans on me more, his breathing hitches. Oh, he’s so close. He’s rubbing his whiskered jaw against my head. He’s moaning and begins to thrust into my hand.

  “Honey,” he whispers. “Dee…”

  He grips my hand as I feel pulse after pulse of his orgasm against my palm and fingers. He’s gyrating his body against me, whispering my name over and over again, gripping at my shoulder with his free hand.

  Then H grabs my cheek, tilting my face up. He rams a kiss on my lips, maybe bruising me, as he also clutches at my hand. He’s coming too while kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, thrusting a few times into my fist, against me. He loosens his grip around my hand then slides his palm up my body, cupping my breast, gently caressing and squeezing.

  “Sweetheart,” H whispers against my lips. “It’s your turn now.”

  23

  It’s only after the men have come, only after I reassure myself that they care about me, that I can finally lose myself. Or rather, let myself be lost in these men of mine.

  H keeps kissing me, massaging my breast then rolling a thumb over my nipple. My whole body rocks against his. Oh, but then Jay takes my other breast in hand.

  They’re so different. As much as H is always worried about pushing things, he’s actually pushy. He’s a little rough, a little more aggressive, making me arch my back. While Jay’s a tad more tender, softer, but his touch also makes me yearn for so much more.

  My senses are on overload as I process what they’re doing, how they’re touching me, the different ways they caress me. In a haze, I know they’re moving around me, saying something to each other, but I can’t decipher what. Then a mouth is over my breast. Another mouth over the other breast.

  “Oh god,” I moan, clutching at their wet hair, holding them close. The sucking motion over my nipples has me bucking out. I wonder how close my orgasm is. It’s not far, and if I concentrate, I could tip over the edge.

  But I like being in a fog with H and Jay. I like giving up to them. Jay licks around my nipple while he moves to my side.

  “Feel good, honey?” Jay kisses the underside of my breast, his hands around my waist and moving lower.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “I want you to feel as good as you made me.” H adjusts to standing more in front of me, bending his neck down to suckle my breast again.

  “You’re off to a really good start,” I huff.

  Both men laugh, then Jay moves behind me, holding both my breasts in his palms while H kisses down my stomach. I like being touched there, but I almost always hate it too. I know I don’t have the quintessential flat stomach. Not exactly. It’s flat-ish. And it always makes me nervous when a man is touching me there, wondering if he thinks I’m fat or feminine.

  H has to bend to his knees to keep kissing me, and instead of obsessing about my belly, I think more about the way H’s spine curves, the muscles around the vertebrae that flex and tense with every move he makes. He’s enchanting me, making me think of him rather than me. And god, he’s beautiful.

  He looks up, smiling. “Put your leg on my shoulder.”

  It takes a few seconds to understand what he means. I’m not sure why but basic definitions are a tad beyond me. Well, it’s probably because I’ve never lusted like this before. I’ve never felt this turned on. I’ve never felt this adored.

  It’s Jay who catches the back of my thigh and lifts it for me. I’m glad he does because I’m shaking and too excited to follow orders as I watch H. He’s smiling at me but when his dark gaze bounces down to the apex of my legs, his brows furrow. He moans.

  “So pretty,” he whispers then leans forward. No preamble. No petting. He just sucks in my clit, sending a bolt of electricity through my spine.

  I’m probably screaming. I’m not too sure. God, the pressure, the pull of his mouth against my sensitive nub, and I can only turn into putty, lolling the back of my head on Jay’s shoulder. I might be swearing too. A lot.

  Jay’s silently chuckling. I feel it against my back.

  “That feel good honey?”

  I’m pretty sure I’m speaking in tongues at this point, mumbling some kind of answer to Jay who’s still holding my leg and now much of my body’s weight too. Amazingly, he’s getting hard again. I feel him growing at the small of my back, and the fact that I’m not doing a thing to him but he’s still aroused, the fact that it’s because I’m so turned on that’s turning him on is driving me crazy. In the best way. He cups my breast with his free hand, pinching my nipple.

  “Does this feel as good as you made me feel?”

  I nod, my head still needing propped against his strong shoulder.

  H is sucking and licking my clit, making me rock my hips into his face. I worry I might hurt him with my abrupt body movements, but he’s easily rolling his head in time. And I know it’s there. My orgasm. It’s tickling down from my skull, my backbone, my breasts, my belly, and touching my womb. It’s golden and silver. It’s iridescent. The light from it is so intense I close my eyes. But the light is there too, behind my lids. Bright and beautiful.

  I love light. It’s why I wanted to become a photographer and why I’ve always loved being in this park. The light is different here. It’s both old—primordial, and new—a new-born bison calf. The light here, reflected from sulfur rocks and onyx boulders takes on more hues of pinks and blues, making the scenery look otherworldly. Angelic. Heavenly.

  And this is heaven. H licking my clitoris with a reckless rhythm, Jay holding me, caressing my breast, and I’m helpless. All I can do is just receive this pleasure. This light.
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  H’s fingers feather against my folds, just outside my opening. I know if he touches me a little further I’ll cascade into an intense orgasm. But I don’t want to. I want to hold on to this beautiful light for just a little longer. However, H doesn’t know. He just wants to make me feel good. And he glides inside.

  My orgasm shakes loose something inside me. I’m rocking and grunting and can hardly keep up with this intense pleasure. I’m moaning and swearing—maybe. But mostly I’m just feeling what these men offer. H said he felt dead before he met me. I can relate to that. Before I was pregnant, I felt numb to so much. I didn’t want to make any good friends, too scared they’d want a boyfriend of mine. And I didn’t want a boyfriend, too scared of his rejection. I didn’t want love, but I was incessantly seeking it. It was a terrible game I played with myself, driving me crazy, this ruse of needing love but denying it to myself.

  Maybe it’s too soon to feel it, but I do. In a shower in Mammoth Hot Springs, I feel loved. Although, I don’t know if the love is coming from the men who are pleasuring me. Or from me.

  Could they ever love me? Or am I being ridiculous to even think of such a thing so soon after meeting them?

  * * *

  “Fran!” I say as the sunset waxes orange in the sky, and I get out of my Wrangler, stepping onto the driveway of my rented lodge.

  There’s Fran, the owner of the estate of clustered cabins, waving at me from the front step with another giant basket of goodies.

  H’s cell blares as I let Jay out from the back, looking sexy as hell as he unfolds himself to stand next to me. The ride from Mammoth was long and filled with sexual tension. I’d flirt with both men until one of them groaned. Twice, I noticed H adjusting his pants while driving. God, I loved it when he did, the bulge at his crotch a little more noticeable than usual. In the shower, I’d touched that bulge. I’d made him come. And there’s a lot of satisfaction I take from that mixed with an urgency for more.