by Sara Brookes
Saint’s legs were trembling, nearly giving out. So he sat on the stool he’d been standing on. Reaching out, Saint pulled Boyce’s jeans down and away. “Naked. Take it all off. Now.” Saint growled the last word as Boyce stripped open his shirt.
Saint leaned forward, licking the length of Boyce’s cock from root to tip, returning the attention Boyce had been giving him. Boyce’s body jerked and shuddered, a quiet groan filling the air. Yeah, Boyce was on the brink. A damn delicious one. And Saint intended to hone the edge even more. But he would do it buried inside Boyce. Balls deep.
Saint cupped Boyce’s balls. “Condom. Lube. Rightthefucknow.”
Boyce’s eyes flashed. “Since when have you worried about a condom when it’s just me and you?”
“House rules.”
Boyce swept his gaze over the empty room. “Club’s closed, and I don’t see Kochran anywhere around.”
“At least get the lube. Unless you want me to fuck you raw.” Boyce’s expression altered. Yeah, I know you want me to, babe. But Saint had plans for later that involved the ass he very much wanted to be inside of at the moment. “Get the lube, or we both walk away from this right now very, very unsatisfied.”
Despite the authority and command of the statement, Boyce strolled casually to the cabinet where the lube was stored. The bunch and roll of his impressive muscles lit a fire at the base of Saint’s cock. As he enjoyed watching Boyce lean over, Saint took himself in hand and started fucking his fist.
When Boyce turned and caught sight of Saint, he smirked. “Couldn’t wait?”
“Keeping it warm for you.”
Boyce tossed a small bottle that Saint caught with his free hand. Saint spread the slick fluid, letting the tube fall to the floor as he gestured for Boyce to turn around. Boyce complied, Saint smoothing his hands over Boyce’s hips and thighs as Boyce offered himself. The muscles tightened under his palms.
Saint guided Boyce down over him. As excited as Boyce was, it didn’t take long for Saint to slip deep. So deep, he took all of Saint’s cock with one effortless stroke.
“Show-off,” Saint whispered as he pulled their bodies tight together. He traced the strong lines of his lover’s body as Boyce fucked him. Within a few minutes, Boyce relaxed his legs, allowing Saint to take most of his weight. Buried balls deep in Boyce, Saint hissed when Boyce wiggled his hips.
“Problem?”
“No,” Saint said tightly.
“Your flawless control wavering, babe?”
In a blur of movement, Saint yanked out of Boyce’s ass, stood, and shoved Boyce back against the waist-high serving bar. Boyce was able to maneuver onto his back, ass hanging off the edge, hands on his knees to spread himself in offering.
Saint slicked a fresh coat of lubrication over his shaft and tossed the empty tube away. This time he wasn’t gentle. Boyce’s eyes fluttered closed as Saint drove into him, his entire body trembling with pleasure. Saint pumped slow and deep, his testicles brushing against Boyce’s ass every time he stroked. Pushing his hand higher, Saint collared Boyce’s throat, applying a small amount of pressure. The expression on Boyce’s face altered, the edge of his lips curling into a satisfied smile. As Saint tightened his grip, Boyce’s dick tapped against his abdomen.
“I’d forgotten how much you enjoy me truly controlling every part of you.” Saint released his hold, allowing Boyce to breathe normally. He tugged his hips backward, stopping short so only the crown of his cock remained inside of Boyce.
Boyce whimpered.
Saint tightened his grip. “Go on and fuck yourself, babe. I know you want to.”
Boyce wrapped his shaft, starting slow at first, his pace increasing as Saint denied oxygen. Saint felt the cords of Boyce’s neck tighten and released his throat. Boyce hauled in a deep breath, his fist slowing. Saint tightened his hold again, gradually pushing his cock inside Boyce when his hand began moving. This time when Saint released Boyce’s throat, he continued fucking into Boyce.
Saint tightened his fingers, completely severing Boyce’s access to air. Now he truly depended on Saint. A thrill raced through Saint, loving the desperate whimpers spilling from Boyce. The loss of air, the rush of adrenaline, as pure, unveiled pleasure coursed through him.
Boyce whipped his hand over his cock faster, beating himself toward orgasm. Unwilling to have their time concluded, Saint smacked Boyce’s hand away, released his throat, and withdrew completely, leaving Boyce empty and aching. Boyce’s chest moved rapidly, his lungs pulling in as much oxygen as possible without restraint.
When Boyce tried to reach for his straining dick again, Saint held Boyce’s hands to the side, pinning them to the wood with his strength. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
Saint watched the beauty of Boyce’s struggles, as Boyce fought to balance everything racing through him. Adding to the chaos, Saint leaned over and dragged his tongue over the ridges of veins to draw a pattern against Boyce’s skin. Boyce hissed.
Saint swallowed Boyce’s cock once, twice, three times—scraping his teeth against straining skin. Boyce’s body bucked as Saint shoved his cock into Boyce’s ass again. A visible tremor shimmered over Boyce as he accepted the rough treatment, took everything Saint tossed his way. He released Boyce’s wrists so he could wrap a hand around Boyce’s throat again.
“Go on. Fuck yourself again. Too damn spectacular not to.”
Boyce began jerking off again, starting slow before his pace increased as Saint tightened his hand. When Boyce’s muscles grew strained, Saint didn’t stop.
Deeper.
Just a little deeper.
C’mon. I’ve got you.
Saint held fast, constricting Boyce’s airway, watching closely for signs of distress while he continued to jack off. Calculating the time, Saint eased his grip, seeing Boyce’s chest expand as he took a breath. Time to kick it up a notch. Saint clamped his hand tight, severing Boyce’s oxygen supply completely. Boyce’s body shook, but he clearly wasn’t struggling as his hand whipped up and down on his dick.
Saint wanted to erupt like a fucking geyser, but he refused.
Boyce’s ass tightened so hard and fast, Saint could barely move. But Saint powered on, shoving hard against the resistance, grinding his hips as Boyce jerked hard and unleashed the first spurt of come. Boyce tore Saint’s hand from his throat and gave a gut-deep roar as he gave himself over to the climax, drenching his abdomen and Saint’s arm as he came.
As Saint gently withdrew, he wrapped his hand around his straining dick. Boyce continued to dig his fingers into Saint’s wrist as his body jerked from the power of his release. Perfect. With a few quick pulls, Saint came, spraying Boyce’s abdomen with hot semen.
Stroking his thumb across Boyce’s abs, Saint married their fluids together, then lifted it to his mouth. As he swallowed, he tugged at Boyce’s nape, and crushed their mouths together.
* * *
Holy fuck.
At her desk, in the privacy of her hotel room, Grae sat open-mouthed and stared at the computer screen. The two men cleaned up, quietly talking and whispering to one another. Sharing kisses. Caresses.
Just when she’d thought she’d seen it all. The moment between Boyce and Saint had left her speechless. Burning hot. Itchy for more.
She wanted to join them.
She hadn’t meant to watch. She’d clicked on the program for Saint’s security work by accident. By the time the window had opened, showing Boyce enthusiastically sucking Saint’s cock, she’d been too stunned to look away. And too horny to deny herself the gorgeous view.
Nice to know her voyeuristic tendencies were alive and well.
Just one more second, she’d kept telling herself as she’d watched. One more caress. One more kiss. What was the harm? No harm at all, except for the fact her skin was feverish and felt as if it had been stre
tched too tightly over her muscles. And the ache between her legs? Unbearable. She needed some kind of release. One that had Boyce’s and Saint’s names painted all over it.
When Saint had levered up, switched positions, and started elevating his control of Boyce to astonishing levels...whew. She’d never seen a breath control scene, but holy hell was she ready to watch another one.
As long as it was those two.
Hell, she was ready to do anything as long as they were involved.
She pushed the laptop closed as she stood, her body vibrating from unreleased pressure. She had every intention of emailing the director who’d contacted her yesterday, but she could barely remember her own name, much less hash out details of a new contract.
She also needed to take a shower, as she’d worked up a healthy sweat tidying up the guys’ place. She hadn’t meant to turn her cleaning trip into a full out assault. But once she’d found the closet of unorganized boxes and bags, she hadn’t been able to stop. She wasn’t even sure why she’d launched into the effort like she had. Something about putting their belongings in order made her happy.
But she knew she’d pleased them as well.
When the phone rang, she realized she’d been mindlessly staring into the refrigerator for the past ten minutes. “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Her already revved system kicked into overdrive at the timbre of Boyce’s voice. The slightly broken way it sounded because he was still coming down from his sex high. She tried her best to not think about two strong, virile male bodies coming together in the heat of passion. Of her between them. Under them. Muscles bunching and releasing as they all came together in one hot tangle of sweaty, hot flesh.
Ah, yeah. Mark that fantasy with a great big red fail stamp.
“Hi,” she said slowly, hoping she didn’t sound breathless or—aroused.
“You all right? Your voice sounds...odd.”
Damn. “Fine. Just tired. I think.” She paused to swallow, wondering how much she should implicate herself. “I’m not sure.”
“Get so lost in your work that you forgot the time. Been there. I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
“No.” I was just fantasizing about you two fucking me. No big deal.
“Thought I’d see if you wanted to take a drive with us next weekend. Know you keep saying you need to get home, but thought it was worth a shot to see if you’d stick around at least long enough to spend Saturday with us.”
She yanked her mind back to the task at hand. They’d invited her to spend the day with them. Again. Even as her empty pussy clenched, her heart soared. “Uh, sure. I can take the day off.”
“Great. We’ll pick you up around seven.”
Panic set in as she replaced the phone on the cradle. How was she going to look them in the eyes? A silly notion considering the fact she’d had sex with them both already. Just not at the same time.
The passionate display she’d seen cemented all the reasons why she wanted them. She’d seen hints of that level of fervor between them during their scenes, but that...that was just indescribable.
Snap out of it, girl. Not as though you can tell them you were spying on them now, can you?
Or that she wanted to marry them.
Chapter Eighteen
Grae tilted her head to give Tory a curious look. “You sure you want to hear this now?”
Tory sat in the recliner next to her bed, bundled up in a thick blanket covered with depictions of elephants in various sexual positions. Her eyes were bright today and her cheeks pink. Both signs she was in good spirits. “Every single time I ask, you find something else to talk about. Enough already. You start spilling the details or I’m going to subject you to repeated viewings of the afternoon soap operas you hate.”
Grae held up a hand to stop her. “No need to threaten me.” As morbid as it sounded, Grae had grown comfortable randomly visiting the hospice. The two had grown close since meeting that first time, with Grae spending many hours detailing her adventures working with computer graphics for most of Hollywood. Tory had never tired of hearing how Grae spent hours and hours smoothing away nasty imperfections. Looking at it through Tory’s eyes, Grae had a new appreciation for her craft. How easy it was to wipe away a flaw with just a few mouse clicks.
If only life were truly that simple.
While her intent had been to simply give Tory a friendly voice to hear once in a while, the growing friendship with Tory Duke had been a blessing. Grae hadn’t realized she needed someone she wasn’t romantically involved with to talk to about everyday things. The fact that Tory had such a carefree attitude about life, and told it like it was no matter the subject, was a breath a fresh air after so many years dealing with Hollywood’s players. Tory wanted nothing from Grae but genuine friendship.
Except for the fact she’d been pestering Grae to detail how she had finally hooked up with Saint and Boyce all those years ago in college. In order to tell that story, she had to back up a little and expose a piece of herself she hadn’t shared with anyone else. The meeting she and Saint had scheduled to put together a surprise for Boyce had gone off without a hitch. So she had the rest of the day to cater to Tory Duke’s whims.
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I did some really stupid shit in college. Like monumentally stupid.”
“Didn’t everyone?” Tory asked.
Grae licked her lips. “Yeah, but does everyone’s college experience including having an affair with one of their professors?”
Tory blinked so slowly it was almost comical. “Oh girl, you have to tell me right now.”
“Isn’t much to tell.” She giggled at Tory’s glare. “Okay, okay. Start of the last semester of my senior year, I was dating this guy my parents wanted me to marry.” Grae smiled at the memory of Mason Van Witt. Brown hair, green eyes, a whip-smart sense of humor and a sexy smile. Mason also possessed a mind for numbers Grae had liked to tease him about. He had been a genuinely nice guy, but that was it. Nice.
“A guy you didn’t really like.”
“Well enough.” Grae shrugged.
“But not enough to spend the rest of your life with him.” Tory waggled an accusatory finger toward Grae. “Or stop your wandering eye.”
“I thought I did want to marry him. At first.” God knew she tried hard to make it work. She’d longed for there to be a spark with Mason. To feel that something special she knew existed but had never experienced. But it had never come to fruition with him. “I wanted to please my parents. Wanted to make them proud of me. I thought if I did this one thing, I would finally, finally gain their acceptance.”
Tory clicked her tongue as she wiggled in the recliner. “Why do I have a feeling even if you did everything they wanted you to, they still would have found something else? It would have been this thing. Then another. Then something different. You’d spend your whole life chasing their acceptance.”
Sometimes it was as though Tory could peek inside her head. Or had gone through the same things. “Spoken by someone who knows exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Hey, girl, this is about you, not me.”
Feeling properly scolded, Grae continued. “We were days away from getting engaged. I knew he’d bought a ring because I caught a glimpse of it when he thought I wasn’t looking. It was nice enough, but it wasn’t...”
“You.”
Grae remembered the princess-cut diamond and the gold band most women would have wept over. It had only made her petrified. “Most definitely not. I kept doing everything I could to convince myself that marrying him was the right thing to do. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how it wasn’t what I really wanted. Wasn’t how I saw myself spending the rest of my life.” Grae paused to take a breath, preparing herself to revisit the memory that still made her fingers shake and her pa
lms sweat to this day. “But I had to keep trying, you know? I wanted so much to please my parents at that age. They always told me they were proud of me, but I never—”
“Felt like they truly meant it.”
Grae nodded as Tory finished her sentence. “Yeah. That semester, my senior project advisor was Noah Fillion. He had that gorgeous older man sophistication going. I wasn’t the only girl at the school who’d noticed.”
“Or guy, I bet, from the sound of it,” Tory added.
Grae dredged up the memory of a comment Boyce had said to her once about Noah and how he would’ve liked to put the professor in a few compromising positions while he photographed him. She’d always doubted that was all Boyce had wanted to do, but had never asked. “Yeah, you’re right. He was a genuinely nice guy too. Like Mason, but...not. He also had a wife. They’d been married for a while, as I came to find out later.”
Tory cleared her throat. “Would that have stopped you?”
Grae had asked herself that very same question for years afterward. “Yes. Regardless, it shouldn’t have happened. Wasn’t supposed to. I was just going to drop by his office for a few minutes to discuss a sticking point I was having with my project. Then I was supposed to meet Mason and my parents for dinner. Just a normal, average Friday night for me. Nothing special.” She shrugged. The movement caused her to realize Tory had wound their fingers together.
“You don’t have to keep talking about this.”
“And let you subject me to your shows?” Grae asked in mock horror. “I don’t think so. It’s time to talk about it, I think. It’s been festering in me long enough. I’d mentioned to Noah that I was going to stop by, but I hadn’t indicated a time.”
“I take it he wasn’t grading papers when you showed up.”
“Ah, no.”
Grae wasn’t in the mood to fully sink into the memory of seeing Noah at his desk, head thrown back, slacks gathered around his thighs as he masturbated. She’d replayed events enough in the days afterward only so she could try to decipher why she’d taken the path she had. Why she’d chosen to step into his office and shut the door. Why she’d crossed to him, sank to her knees, and crossed the boundary between professor and student.
