by Sara Brookes
Heat and need and hunger rioted through Saint, seeking some kind of relief. But the damn cock ring held his orgasm just out of reach. He didn’t need the fucking thing in the first place, but Boyce was out to prove a point. Just then, Grae’s muscles clenched tight around Saint, and all he could think about was seeing her orgasm over and over.
Her body began trembling, her thigh muscles shaking.
Boyce’s voice sounded over Grae’s shoulder. “Come on, baby.”
Saint felt a tug against the leather straps bisecting his chest. Looking down, he saw Grae had wrapped her hands around the strips and was using them to help support her as she rode both men. Her inner walls clenched tighter and tighter, her voice a high whine as she stumbled over the rhythm. Couldn’t find it again.
Suddenly she pitched forward, the weight of Boyce’s hold pinning her to Saint’s chest. Boyce began pistoning his hips, fucking them both in earnest. Grae tightened impossibly, gripping the leather straps as she held on.
The dual sensation of Boyce’s dick as Saint plunged into Grae’s pussy and feeling her grow tighter and tighter was finally enough to tip Saint over the edge. Just as Grae’s body went taut, her walls fluttering around Saint as orgasm swept over her, Saint surrendered to the sensation and plummeted off the edge of the precipice with her. They fell screaming and bucking into the abyss, riding the tidal wave of sensations bracketing them. Somewhere in the distance, Saint heard Boyce’s shout of release and felt his lover join them in the madness.
Saint’s lungs burned. His arms ached. But he kept churning his hips, driving up into Grae to keep those delicious aftershocks quivering through her. A sharp pain spread across his shoulders and as she climaxed again, soaking the length of his cock, he realized she was still pulling on the straps and they were digging into his skin.
The heady scent of her orgasm struck him somewhere deep inside. The same place where Boyce had taken up residence. A mark across his soul. A brand he would always carry with him. A permanent etching of devotion and love much like the tattoo he wore for Noble House.
The ratchet of metal cleared Saint’s mind. He wrapped his newly freed arms around Grae, holding her tight as he lifted his gaze to find Boyce looking down at him.
A lazy smile played across Boyce’s lips as he lowered his head and brushed a kiss against Saint’s sweaty forehead. “Thank you for never giving up on me. On her. On us.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grae woke up achy and sore, but in a good way that made her smile. Nestled between Saint and Boyce in their bed, she wondered how she could have been so afraid of getting exactly what she wanted.
They’d put her through everything last night. As though they had something to prove. To her. Or to themselves. Now she wore their collar and had no plans to remove it.
She’d learned a lot about herself. About them. She had a feeling she had a lot more to uncover. For the first time in a long while, she was excited about the path stretched out before her. She didn’t know everything they would encounter, but it didn’t matter.
She’d found a way to be comfortable with it all regardless of how events unfolded. Boyce and Saint would be at her side and she was confident they would always be there. Just as she would be for them.
“I think I smell the grease from the gears turning in your head.” Boyce’s voice was low and rough, a sign he hadn’t surfaced completely from sleep.
“Sorry.” Though she wasn’t. Not really. “A lot changed very quickly. I’m still trying to process it all.”
“Nothing to process. Just enjoy.” Saint shifted as he spoke, his voice equally coarse. However, the steel rod pressing against the cleft of her ass told her Saint wasn’t as asleep as he wanted her to believe.
When Boyce shifted, facing her and pressing his erection against her abdomen, she knew they had more than simply early morning wood. She giggled. Pushing against them, she maneuvered onto her back, and slipped her hands around their cocks. The men inhaled sharply at the same time, but their bodies relaxed into the soft cushioning of the mattress.
“Not a bad way to wake up, as it were.” She giggled again.
“I could get used to a hand job alarm clock. Boyce?”
“I’d prefer one with a blow job function.” Boyce cracked open one eye. “Or two. Yeah. That would definitely be better.”
A chime sounded through the room.
“You guys are really serious about this whole alarm clock deal, aren’t you?” She continued to give them her attention, loving the way their skin slid against hers. “And why in the world do you have an alarm set on the weekend?”
“That’s the doorbell,” Boyce offered. “Means we have company. Who is going to shoo them away, ’cause I’m really liking this idea of dual blow jobs.”
Grae shot up suddenly. “Oh, crap. I forgot.” She scrambled out of bed and swept her gaze around the room in search of her clothes. “Where are my things?”
“On a chair in the living room. Next to my fucking machine.”
When the bell rang again, she ran from the room and headed for the living room. No fucking machine in sight. In fact, there wasn’t a trace of what had occurred last night to be found. Damn, they were efficient. Scarily so. In a matter of seconds, she had on her jeans and shirt, and had stuffed her bra and panties down the side of one of the cushions.
The bell rang again.
“Coming!”
“Everything all right?” Boyce wandered out of the bedroom wearing a loose pair of shorts—and still sporting an impressive erection.
“I’d suggest putting that away before you give the delivery guy an eyeful.” When Boyce made no attempt to cover the tent in his pants, she snorted. “Exhibitionist.”
Boyce grinned as he scooped his messy hair back. “Delivery? I thought you said you came over at the spur of the moment? And I know you weren’t out of our sight after you arrived.”
“I set it up a few weeks ago.” Had been working on it ever since the day she’d come to clean their place. “And it’s not for me.” She swung open the door and waved. “Hey, Van. Thanks for stopping by.”
Van’s gaze immediately homed in on Boyce. His appreciation for Boyce’s current state of undress showed clearly on his face, and the twitch in his jaw. “Grae, you shouldn’t have.”
“Back off, twerp. He’s mine.”
“And they’re both mine,” Saint announced as he leaned against the wall beside Boyce.
If Van was surprised to see her with two men, it didn’t show in his expression. “Got something for me?” Grae asked with a smile.
“Oh, sure,” Van responded with a sheepish grin. “Sign here, and I’ll be right back.”
She signed with a flourish and handed him the mini-tablet. After he cast another appreciative glance, this time at both Boyce and Saint, Van turned and jogged down the hall.
“You aren’t going to introduce us to your friend?” Saint almost sounded disappointed.
“Boyce, Van is the contact I mentioned who trains dogs for veterans. Even though it has nothing to do with why he’s here, he earns extra money by stripping at the place a few miles down the street.” She set her hands on her hips. “He has more than enough friends without being introduced to you two.”
“He’s a stripper?” Saint appeared genuinely surprised by this news. “Aw, honey, you didn’t have to.” Saint kissed the juncture in Boyce’s neck. “Grae just gave me an idea for your birthday next week.” He wiggled his ass before disappearing into the bedroom again.
“I can just imagine what he’s thinking now.” Boyce grew quiet suddenly, and Grae crossed to him.
“Boyce? You all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just got so caught up in last night that I’d forgotten I was going to turn another year older next week. Birthdays aren’t always something that I lo
ok forward to. Haven’t really celebrated one in a few years. Just reminds me...yeah, I’m fine.”
“I brought someone to see you,” Van announced as he stepped back into the room. A soft whine sounded from the hall. Van turned and tapped his hand against his thigh. “Come on, girl. Come on.”
A blur of black and tan streaked through the doorway at full speed. Boyce barely managed to get his hands up in time to catch the three-legged dog who had just attempted to leap into his arms and began to squirm like a seventy-five pound baby. When the dog tried to wiggle free again, Boyce lost his balance. Stumbling, he fell over the back of the couch. They tumbled together, muzzle over ass. Boyce turned his body to take the force of the fall. By the time Grae came around the chair in a rush, Boyce was laughing hard.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
Van peered over the couch, relief washing over his expression when he saw everyone was fine. “Her name is Neva. She came to us after she retired from the service last year when she got away from her handler and took two bullets in her hindquarters. Vets tried to save her leg, but nothing they tried worked. She was given a clean bill of health three months ago when she finished rehabilitation. So I’ve been working with her.”
Grae stooped, setting her hand gently on Boyce’s forearm. The two looked as though they’d hit it off in a matter of seconds. She wasn’t surprised. For someone who had a big heart, Boyce was capable of giving a lot of love.
“Van did a little research on her when she came to him. It took a bit, but he found out she was from the litter Diega had before she was sent overseas. Before she came to work with you.”
“What?” Boyce blinked.
A slice of regret slithered through Grae. “You didn’t know she had puppies eight years ago?”
“No.” A pained expression tightened his face. “I had no idea. I didn’t even think to consider it. They didn’t give us a rundown on their history. Just gave us the tools we needed to work together. It was normal procedure, but the situation there was just...Jesus.” Boyce screwed up his eyes tightly.
Grae’s worry deepened, concern growing that she’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up things. I thought...well, I guess I wasn’t thinking.” She straightened, giving Van a tight smile. “Can you bring Neva back another time?”
She gasped when Boyce snagged her arm and pulled her down so her face was level with his. “No. Don’t take her away. Please. I want her to stay.” As Grae’s gaze locked with his, she spotted the love shining in his expression. “Why?” He cleared his throat, tried again. “Why did you get her for me?”
“Because I’m worried about you.” Grae stroked the dog’s gleaming coat as she set her other hand on Boyce’s jaw. “I want you to be okay. And I thought Neva could help. She’s been through some bad shit too, and she survived.”
“Just like me.” Boyce’s throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m never going to be okay, Grae. Not truly. I’ll never have a moment where my thoughts aren’t broken, aren’t affected by what happened. Some days are just better than others. I’m constantly working on it, though. And I always will be. That is just part of who I am.”
Grae brushed her thumb against his jaw, his lips, using gentle fingers as she noticed the sadness creeping into Boyce’s vision. Someone needed to be there for him because she knew there were times he would rather suffer than tell someone he was hurting.
“I know Saint is there for you. And Neva will be there for you. But I want to be too. I want to help. Be another shoulder for you to lean on when your world is spiraling out of control. This is just...a different way to tell you that I love you.”
He managed to get himself out from under Neva and bundled Grae close, pulling her on top of him before she had a chance to finish what she’d been trying to say. And then his mouth was on hers, a torrent of emotion pouring through the intimate connection. Grae swore she could feel the well he’d contained his emotions in split apart and spill everywhere. She returned the kiss, using the physical closeness to make him understand how important this was to her. To him. For them all.
Boyce broke the kiss slowly, looking at Grae for a long time before wetting his lips. “How did—” Neva barked sharply once and started to whine. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. Thank you.”
“What is all the racket?” Neva wiggled out of Boyce’s hold and bolted for Saint, who had come to stand over them. “Well, hey there again, gorgeous girl.”
Neva barked and set her paws on Saint’s chest as he crouched to bring himself eye level with her. Neva’s ears stood straight up, her tongue drooping out of the side of her mouth as she enthusiastically enjoyed Saint’s attention. “Glad to see we could make it work out, Van.”
Boyce eyed Saint. “You knew about this?”
Saint rolled his eyes. “Stop looking so offended and bruised we kept a secret from you. Grae brought her concerns to me when Van contacted her. She knew we didn’t have a dog and wanted to make sure it wasn’t because you didn’t want one after Diega. And I told her I thought it would be a good idea. Especially considering this girl’s history.” Saint laughed as Neva licked the side of his face as though she knew they were discussing her. “Grae and I met with Van a few weeks ago to work out a few details.”
Van tapped on the door. “She’ll probably take some time to adjust to the new surroundings, but if you have any problems or questions, just give me a call. I’ll get in contact in a few days and we’ll set up something for training classes. She’s a good girl, takes direction well, so now I just have to get you guys schooled on recognizing her signals.”
“Think we’re going to have to go for a ride to pick up some supplies,” Saint said with a laugh as Neva started barking frantically, her ears now pinned back, her tail wagging across the hardwood floor.
“Uh, yeah. That’s a word you shouldn’t probably say around her. She loves being in the car.”
Van left them alone and Grae slipped onto the couch to watch the two men fight and play with the dog who was now a part of their family. The darkness that had shrouded her life just a short time ago had vanished. The fog had lifted so she could envision the future she’d always thought was only a fantasy.
Together, as a triad, they would create new memories to banish the shadowed ones that lived inside them all. They would work as a unit to carve out their place. Forge new futures. Grae knew, she had found home and darkness would no longer surround her.
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
Special thanks go to Angela James for listening to a girl hiding in a stairwell lose track of every word in her vocabulary except for “Okay” during the acquisitions phone call.
More thanks go to Moe Ferrara for her boundless enthusiasm that I wish I could bottle and hoard for myself. I managed more words than “Okay” on the phone call from her, thankfully!
PACT girls, there is no way to thank you appropriately for the push you gave me off the cliff with this one. Tequila, lots and lots of tequila, seems appropriate, though.
Coming soon from Sara Brookes
and Carina Press
Watch for the next book in the untitled GET OFF EASY series, coming February 2018
Also available from SARA BROOKES
Ragged Edge
Edge of Need
Taking Over Me
Rock Your Soul
Break Me In
Glad You Came
Riding Irish
Branded Irish
Craving Irish
Twisted Irish
Dirty Irish
Chasing Sin
Hard as Stone
Starlight Bound
Shift of Command
About the Author
A native Virginian, Sara sold her first romance novel in 2009. Since that fateful day, she’s published books in v
arious sub-genres of romance, been generously honored with several awards and saved the world from evil chocolate chip cookies.
She has won the PRISM Award from the RWA’s Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal chapter for Best Futuristic Romance, and the HOLT Medallion award from RWA’s Virginia Romance Writers chapter for Best Erotic Romance. She was also selected as a finalist for an RT Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Erotic Romance.
Though she may insist otherwise, Sara loves the places her mind conjures and has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this geekiness, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story.
You can find Sara on the web at www.sarabrookes.com, on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/Sara_Brookes, on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/brookesofbooks and via her new release notification newsletter http://eepurl.com/mbG31.
Introducing the Carina Press Romance Promise!
The Carina Press team all have one thing in common: we are romance readers with a longtime love of the genre. And we know what readers are looking for in a romance: a guarantee of a happily-ever-after (HEA) or happy-for-now (HFN). With that in mind, we’re initiating the Carina Press Romance Promise. When you see a book tagged with these words in our cover copy/book description, we’re making you, the reader, a very important promise:
This book contains a romance central to the plot and ends in an HEA or HFN.
Simple, right? But so important, we know!
Look for the Carina Press Romance Promise and one-click with confidence that we understand what’s at the heart of the romance genre!
Look for this line in Carina Press book descriptions:
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
