by Renee Rose
“Ex-boyfriend? Angry co-worker?” Keith prompted.
“No—no one like that.”
“You’re not staying here alone until this has been resolved,” Keith said firmly.
“Right,” John agreed. “We’ll stay here with you. Either in shifts or together, whichever you prefer.”
In seconds flat, she shifted from terror to turn-on. The single word together had her blushing at the memories of the previous night, heat swirling in her core, her skin prickling with a new awareness of their bodies and nearness. Her resolve not to repeat the night flew out the front door.
She swallowed. “Okay.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Huh? Oh...both of you,” she spoke without hesitation then flushed again. Maybe she asked too much. They probably had other things to do. “I mean, unless you’d rather split up.”
“No,” they answered simultaneously.
“I’m glad you called us,” John said. “We appreciate your trust.”
“Yeah... Of course I trust you. I mean…” She had let them do anything and everything with her the night before, hadn’t she? She realized she trusted them implicitly. Individually and separately. “Thanks for coming. I’m really glad...we met.”
Met. What a funny way of putting it. She had a feeling they’d be meeting again soon, in many new configurations.
“We’ll check the place for prints, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to get any good ones,” Keith said. John stalked through the house, checking behind doors and under beds while Keith dusted the door knob and closet door, trying to pick up any good prints. After about a half hour, he shook his head ruefully. “Nothing. The perp may have been wearing gloves. You see this smudge here? Doesn’t look like it came from a bare finger.”
Something about the gloves reminded her of something else, but the more her brain tried to retrieve the thought, the deeper it hid from her. She shook her head and sighed, feeling like she was going nuts.
“All right. I think our investigation is wrapped up here. I’ll head home and get a change of clothes and some takeout. Does that sound good?” Keith asked. “John will stay with you while I’m gone.”
She nodded. “Sounds great.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“How about pizza?”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Rocco’s Old Chicago—sausage and jalapeño.”
He grinned and put the pencil and pad he’d been scribbling notes on away. “You got it.” The wink made her knees weak. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
He headed out, and she turned to face John, who still stalked around her little house, inspecting everything with a dark look.
She loved how protective they seemed. Honestly, she couldn’t remember when someone had taken care of her. She was a do-it-yourselfer by nature—prided herself on being able to handle her problems without calling in the cavalry. And she’d never dated guys who offered much more than what she could do on her own. But she had to admit, knowing two strapping policemen willing to rush over to her house and protect her with their lives made this situation a helluva lot easier.
But would they be able to solve the case? How long would it take? They didn’t have much to go on. Worse still, her willpower to resist the two men sexually wouldn’t last a half hour. And the more involved she got with them, the more complicated and painful it would be when things ended.
This was why she didn’t do relationships.
#
John’s protective instincts went wild. The idea of someone fucking with Sloane made him want to rip his or her face apart. Who would do this to her? And why? It seemed like a mind-fuck. A subtle form of intimidation. Who would be after their beautiful public defender? What grudge could they hold?
His investigative wheels turned as he circled the outside of her house, checking all windows and doors. One of the window locks appeared forcibly broken, and he found a large male footprint in the dust outside. White-hot fury surged through him.
Who the fuck had been here? He took photos of the print and tried to get a cast of it, but the dust was too fine and dry, the print not deep enough. He wanted to kill this guy, he really did. He circled the house again. The sound of a scream made his heart lodge in his throat. He threw the front door open.
A tall, thin man backed away from Sloane, who slowly advanced on him, clutching a butcher knife.
He drew his gun. “Freeze.”
The man whirled, caught sight of John, and his already panicked face distorted. He lunged back toward Sloane.
“Touch her, and I’ll shoot you in the back.”
The man froze, a choked sound coming from his throat.
“Hands in the air, real high.”
The guy slowly lifted his shaking fingers toward the ceiling. He stooped like an old man, but he couldn’t be more than fifty, with thinning hair and broken front teeth. His clothes were wrinkled and unclean.
“Face down, on the floor.” Without taking his eyes or his gun from the guy, he hit his radio. “Sergeant Swensen, return to premises immediately.”
“Copy that. En route.”
The man sank to his knees, desperation streaking his face. “Ms. Walters is my friend. Aren’t you, Ms. Walters?”
“You know this guy?” He didn’t move his eyes from the perp.
“Yeah,” Sloane gasped, her face white. “He was a client.”
Outside, the screech of tires signaled his partner’s return.
John ran forward and shoved the guy the rest of the way down then cuffed him roughly.
“Take it easy,” Sloane said, her voice shaky. “He’s mentally ill. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.”
He struggled to dial back his need to protect, but he agreed the guy didn’t seem aggressive.
“What were you doing here?” he demanded. “Huh?”
“N-n-nothing. I just wanted to see her again. She’s my friend. She’s nice to me.”
“Not like this. You scared her. Did you want to scare her?”
“No,” the man sobbed. He attempted to lift his head and look at Sloane, but John didn’t allow it.
Keith rushed in, stopping in the entry to take it in then easing past them toward Sloane. He closed his fingers over hers around the handle of the knife. “Let me have it,” he murmured when she didn’t let go. “You’re safe now. We’re not going to let anyone hurt you.”
She let out her breath in a gush and released the knife.
Keith instantly pulled her into his arms.
John wrestled the guy’s wallet from his pocket and tossed it to his partner. “Where did he come from?” he asked Sloane. It bugged the shit out of him he’d somehow missed the guy being in the house.
“He came in the back door.”
The one he’d just exited through and left unlocked. Damn.
“Where were you hiding? Were you in the house when we got here?”
“Outside,” the guy panted. “I went out the back door.”
“You hid outside? What was your plan, asshole?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see her,” he pleaded. “I wouldn’t hurt her. I would never touch her.”
Jesus Christ.
“What was he accused of when you represented him?”
“Breaking and entering.” Sloan sounded miserable, as if she bore the guilt of his continued law breaking.
“Did he steal things?”
“No.”
Keith rifled through the wallet, the anger on his face matching John’s.
Maybe the guy was mentally ill. Probably. It didn’t make it any less creepy to find him in Sloane’s house. John leaned his head low to the guy’s face and snarled through gritted teeth, “You don’t break into someone’s house. You don’t touch their things. You scared her.”
“I’m sorry,” the man wailed. “I didn’t mean to scare her. I didn’t mean to.”
Sloane’s eyes swam with unshed tears. “Please take it easy on him.”
&n
bsp; He pulled the guy up to his knees and turned him to see Sloane. “She’s crying,” he snarled. “Because of you.”
“I’m sorry!” the guy cried. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Okay, let’s get him down to the station. Sloane, you’ll need to come, too, so we can get a statement. We’ll make it as fast and painless as possible.”
Chapter Six
After getting Sloane’s stalker booked, John headed home to shower and change then returned to her place while Keith went to get the pizza. They hadn’t even questioned whether they were still spending the night at Sloane’s. Nor had she.
He tapped on the door and entered to find Sloane slicing vegetables for a salad. Something about the domestic scene made his cock thicken. Not that a professional woman wouldn’t also be good in the kitchen. Sloane seemed ultra-capable. But the idea of domesticating with her was doing all kinds of things to his body and mind.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind.
She stiffened at first, but then her body went soft and she leaned back. Her head fell against his shoulder, her moon-pale hair smelling sweet.
“Keith was so pissed we let you get away this morning,” he murmured.
She stiffened again, but then turned in his arms, her aqua eyes curious.
“I haven’t seen him take a genuine interest in a woman—not since he lost his wife a few years back.”
Her expression softened with sympathy. “Is that why you two—?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, partly. I had hoped to get him back in the dating scene. I never expected we’d fall for the same woman.”
Her eyes widened, lips parted. Worry crept across her face.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.
Any doubt he had about her receptivity fled when her arms slipped around his neck and she slanted her lips over his, kissing him back with fervor.
Lust kicked through him. He wrapped an arm around her and kneaded her ass, yanking her slender hips up against his, pressing his swollen cock against her belly so she’d feel his interest.
She moaned into his mouth.
“Is this wrong, then?” she asked when they parted, her brows knit together in the sweetest show of concern.
“It’s not wrong,” he murmured. “Nothing between you and either one of us could be wrong. We both want you so much. We agreed we’d let you decide. If you want one or the other of us, fine. If you want both, even better.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “On an...ongoing basis? A threesome...relationship? Or just sex?”
“Relationship.” He flashed his most devastating bad-boy grin. “Think you could handle two men?”
She licked her lips. The sight of that little pink tongue made his cock throb painfully. “I can think of a few ways…”
Game on.
He felt no remorse in not waiting for his partner. His lips came crashing down on hers again, twisting over them, licking into her mouth. He grasped the back of her head to hold her still for his onslaught, determined to show her every bit of pent up frustration that had grown since they’d parted earlier.
He backed her against the counter and palmed her breast, slipping his hand inside her silky pink blouse. “Mmm,” he rumbled. “You smell so good.”
She bit his neck, worked the buttons open on his shirt. “So do you, Officer.”
He dragged the hem of her pencil skirt up to her waist, groaning at the sight of her yellow polka dot panties. He picked her up and plunked her down on her counter, pulling her knees apart and settling his thumb over her clit. He brushed ever so lightly over the silky fabric. “You want me to touch you here, Counselor?”
Her breasts moved up and down with her rapid breath.
She grasped his hand and pushed it against her mons, urging him on.
He made a tsking sound. “Uh uh, Counselor. I’m calling the shots right now. I asked you a question. Do you want me to touch you here?”
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.
He brushed again, ever so lightly. “Like this?”
She shook her head. “No-o,” she moaned. “More, please. Harder.”
He applied slightly more pressure and slid his thumb up and down over her sweet little button. “Do you think you deserve to come?”
“Ye-es.”
“I’m not so sure.“
Her thighs clamped shut around his wrist and she stiffened, eyes snapping to his face with a question.
“There is the matter of your dismissing us this morning. We were both highly disappointed.” He rubbed his thumb in a painstakingly slow circle around her clit.
Her inner thighs trembled around his hips, her breath ragged. “I just—”
She didn’t finish the explanation, a low whimper coming from her lips as he added a little more pressure.
Remembering how she’d responded to his domination last night, he said, “I think a little punishment might be in order.”
Her gasp sounded wanton. Her nipples stood out under her blouse in stiff points and she squirmed against his thumb. “What kind of punishment?”
He heard the front door open and close and the clomp of his partner’s footsteps coming down the hall.
“Well, there are many ways we might address displeasing behavior in our partner.” He raised his voice to make sure Keith would hear. “Orgasm delay or denial, for one.”
She shook her head from side to side with a low moan. “Nooo.”
“Spanking.” Keith’s deep rumble came from the doorway to the kitchen.
Her hips jerked with excitement, eyes dilated.
“Punishment fuck.”
The baby blues flew wide.
“Mmm, I think she liked that one,” Keith murmured, leaning his hip casually against the counter to watch.
“Punishment fuck, it is.”
#
“Do you have any lube?” Keith asked.
Sloane’s expression took on a slightly panicked look.
He laughed. “How about coconut oil? Or olive oil?”
She pointed toward a cabinet. Keith opened it and pulled out the oil.
John caught her wrists and twisted them behind her head. “Bedroom,” he ordered and nudged her in that direction.
Keith poured a little oil into a small bowl and followed them into the bedroom where John stood, arms folded across his chest. “Clothes off.”
Sloane looked from one to the other, the uncertainty or discomfort returning. They didn’t want that. He strolled over. “I’ll help,” Keith said easily and reached around from behind her to unbutton her silky blouse.
John started to strip off his uniform.
Keith slid the silky fabric from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor then unhooked her bra and dropped it. He cupped her firm breasts in his hands, squeezing. Her head fell back on his shoulder.
“This is crazy,” she murmured. He cut off further verbalizations of her worry with his mouth, twisting his lips over hers as his hands slid down her belly and worked the button on her pencil skirt.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
She sighed.
“Punishment,” John reminded him, but amusement rang in his voice. He moved to stand in front of her so they formed a sandwich, and took her mouth when Keith released her. Keith urged the skirt and her panties down over her hips and off. He gave her bare ass a slap that made her gasp into John’s mouth.
“Fold her over the bed, here I think we need to work that tight little ass of hers open so it’s ready for me.”
He’d already decided he was the ass man. They actually hadn’t tried double penetration with a woman before, but he knew John would be on the same page as him. John maneuvered her over the bed and pushed her torso down. He caught her wrists and pinioned them together, stretched over her head but resting on the bed.
Keith gave her beautiful ass a few more slaps, enjoying the bloom of pink from his handprints. He dipped his index finger in the coconut oil and lubed it completely. He brought
it first to her slit, not that she needed lubrication there. He found it dewy wet, the folds plump, her entrance swollen and ripe. “Mmm, she’s ready for you here, man,” he murmured to John, who had slid his free hand under her chest to tease her nipples.
“Spread your legs wider,” Keith commanded.
She obeyed. It was amazing how the stiff-spined lawyer transformed so quickly into this soft and willing partner. Her cheeks flushed with excitement, eyes already turning glassy. Just a little more work and they’d have her fully in a space of surrender to her erotic desires. His cock had gone rock hard at the sight of her, and he shifted it in his pants to ease the discomfort.
He teased her clit lightly, circling it with the lubed finger then flicking it until she whined with need.
He moved up to her back hole, massaging the tight ring of muscle with the coconut oil. She tightened, as if to keep him away.
He gave her ass a couple of slaps. “Naughty girl. This is a punishment fuck, remember? I’m going to take you back here while my partner fucks your pretty little pussy. You want that, don’t you?”
She moaned.
He slapped her ass again. “Don’t you? Speak up, baby. I need your consent.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” He rubbed away the sting of his spanks and began to massage her anus again, circling the rosebud then applying a little pressure. She moaned again. He kept the pressure steady until she opened for him, then worked the finger inside, massaging all around, stretching her opening to prepare her.
Her breath rasped, moans grew frantic. John took her mouth roughly, holding her face captive as he plundered with his tongue, sucking her lips, nipping, devouring.
“Oh my God,” she gasped when he released her.
Keith pushed his finger in and out of her anus, and her breath came in sobs.
“Please,” she begged.
“What do you need, baby?”
“You. Both of you. All of it.”
He grinned at John and eased his finger out.
John climbed up on the bed and rolled a condom on his dick.
“Okay, baby,” Keith said. “You’re going to climb on John and ride his cock for a little while. But I don’t want you to come. Understand?”
