“I get it.” Ford knelt in front of the sofa, lowering his head to kiss her clenched hands. “I should tell you off for not saying yellow, but I understand.”
“Then explain it to me, because I don’t.” She hugged herself, not even caring how exposed she was with her jeans around her knees. She’d had this man inside her. And that didn’t bother her. Only . . . something was missing. No, someone. Cort. “He knows, and he’s okay with this.”
“Cort? Yeah. He’s reading one of the books he got for you. And . . . hell, I’d feel better if he was here too.” Ford rubbed his face with his hand. “Which is messed up. We’re both more into the lifestyle than he is. I’m supposed to know what I’m doing. You’re the only one who makes me feel like I don’t.”
“He gave you to me. I mean—”
“No. You were right the first time. I feel the same.” Ford shook his head and glared at the floor. “There’s only one way about this. It’s the three of us, or it’s nothing.”
Yes! Those words felt so completely right she could only swallow and stare at Ford because voicing those words would only hurt him. And that was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Cort! Red!” Ford let out a bitter laugh. “Fuck, I am the most pathetic Dom ever. I’ll be tagged ‘the safeword man’ at the club.”
“It’s my fault.”
“Stop it.”
“It’s true!”
“You two are giving me a headache!” Cort strode down the hall, laughter underlying his every word. “What’s the problem?”
“This ain’t gonna work unless you’re here. She can’t stop thinking about you.” Ford snorted at Cort’s broad grin. “Asshole.”
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, Ford.” Cort came over and ran his finger over her swollen bottom lip. “You hurt her.”
“We played rough. She loved it.” Ford pulled her to her feet, removing the belt restraint which she took as a sign that the fun was over. He flashed her a knowing smile as he drew her shirt up and off. He had her step out of her jeans, then trailed his finger down her cheek, his words for Cort. “But you’re always there.”
Cort placed his hand on the base of her spine and all the uncertainty dwindled away to nothing, leaving only the warmth of his touch. “I always will be. You good with that?”
Ford inclined his head, no resentment in his eyes, only the same question she was thinking as he looked at Cort. “So what’s next?”
“Breakfast.” Cort nudged her in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll have a bowl of cereal. Seems to me you’ve already chosen yours.”
Not sure what he meant, Akira let herself be led to the kitchen, a little voice in her head nagging at her that she shouldn’t allow them to talk around her like she wasn’t even there. But the rest of her was sinking into the still pool of submission, letting the feeling of being there for their pleasure drown out the urge to question anything. Ford had more experience with the lifestyle, but Cort knew her. He seemed to sense that she didn’t want a part of the negotiations. Her limits were set, and she was perfectly happy going along with whatever they had planned.
But when they reached the kitchen and Ford swooped her up onto the table, she couldn’t help but gasp and stare at him. And then at Cort.
What are they going to—
“Breathe, Tiny. Just breathe and let him have you.” Cort brought a box of Cap'n Crunch, some milk, a bowl, a spoon, and a glass to the table. He set them off to her side as Ford laid her down. “And try not to spill my milk.”
Easy enough. She remained motionless as Ford ran his hands up her thighs, then breathed in slow, measured breaths as his fingers trailed over her hips and found a sensitive spot low on her belly. Her whole body quivered as he molded her breasts in his hands. She giggled as she heard Cort crunching his cereal.
Ford smiled at her. “Better?”
“Yes.” A little hum of pleasure escaped her as he kissed along the same path of his hands. He rose up to remove his shirt, tossed it aside, then lifted her calves to his bare shoulders. His muscles, his smooth, hot skin against hers as he lowered his head between her thighs, added an intimacy that hadn’t been there before. He watched her as he tasted her with a long, languid stroke of his tongue. She whispered his name as something more than pleasure stole inside her.
Another crunch, quieter this time. She swallowed and turned her head to see Cort, watching them, his hooded gaze and lazy smile drawing out the sweet sensations like melted chocolate drizzled on her tongue. As Ford dipped his tongue into her, she arched her back, sucking in air as the pleasure saturated every nerve. Her whole body was so sensitized that every time his tongue left her she felt a dull ache. She needed the pressure of him inside her, needed . . . needed more.
She reached down blindly, lacing her fingers through his hair, pulling him to her. He thrust his tongue in again and again and his hands wrapped around her thighs, his fingers massaging the straining muscles. The table grew slick with the moisture beading on her skin as a spark lit within, catching quickly and growing like she was made up of the perfect kindling. There was no chance to ask for permission to come. Ford didn’t give her a choice.
She thrashed on the table, bringing her hands to her sides to claw at it, crying out. Her thighs clenched against Ford’s face until the strength left her trembling as wave after fiery wave hit her. Her body shook hard as Ford brought her calves down, gently bending her knees by his hips and filling her in one smooth thrust. The aftermath of her climax still held her, making her tight and slick around him.
“Are you with me, Akira?” Ford slid in deep, resting an elbow by her head as he covered her with his body and kissed her. He stroked her hair as she nodded, rocking his hips in a shallow motion that stirred all the heat all over again. “We can keep going, just like this.”
“Don’t be . . .” She gasped in air, bringing her arms around him and pressing her hands to his back to keep him near. “Don’t be careful with me.”
“I won’t.” His lips came down for a rough kiss, his tongue and teeth leaving her lips tender, a promise that her body would soon feel the same. He rose up, taking her hands from his back and drawing them over her head. “Can you hold her, Cort?”
Cort brought his breakfast to the counter and returned, firmly shackling her wrists with his hands. He bent down to kiss her sore lips, his voice rough with passion as he spoke against them. “It would be my pleasure.”
Stretched out on the table, Akira held her breath as Ford pulled out almost all the way, rasping out her exhale as he drove back in. His hands on her hips kept her still as he fucked her, and her rasps became wordless screams of ecstasy.
His grip was bruising, but it only added to the feeling of being taken without restraint. The exquisite friction as he hammered into her, the fullness, was almost too much. Yet when she finally managed a word, it was “More!” She’d never get enough.
No longer a fire, the pleasure boiled up like a volcano that couldn’t be contained, spilling lava before it finally burst and lit up the sky. Mindlessly tugging at her wrists, unable to get free, kept the flaming liquid flowing for what seemed like eternity.
Ford slapped his hands on the table, letting out a low growl as he dropped his head to her stomach. His arms shook, and as she came down to level ground, her lips curved a little in feminine satisfaction. Making a man like Ford come completely undone ranked right up there with the decadence of Black Forest cake or a day spent basking in the sun.
“Are you all right, Sir?” she asked in a sugary sweet voice as he drew out and dropped into a chair. Cort had released her wrists, so she sat up and scooted over to the edge of the table, her smile growing even bigger as Ford tipped his head up and arched a brow. “Maybe you need a nap?”
Laughing, Ford stood, taking her face in his hands to kiss her. He nodded solemnly as he tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s been a while, so I probably need some time to recover.” His lips slanted in a wicked grin. “Good thing you’ve got two of
us.”
Her eyes widened as he stepped aside and Cort came toward her. She hopped off the table, squealing as Cort caught her. He lifted her up and headed straight for the bedroom.
“Cort! I can’t—not yet!” But she squeezed her thighs together as arousal pulsed over the delicious ache. Maybe she could.
Cort dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed, climbing over her even as she tried to scramble out of reach, his hands on her thighs keeping her right where he wanted her. The material of his jeans was rough against her inner thighs, but feeling him hard and ready had her holding on to him tight, eager for more.
He kissed her throat, chuckling as she wiggled under him impatiently. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” She licked her bottom lip as he shoved up to his knees, crawling out from under him so she could undo his jeans herself. She took him in her hands, kissing the feverish head of his cock, suddenly wanting nothing more than the soft, gentle loving he could give her. But only after she gave him a little something of her own. “I’m greedy today.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.” He petted her hair as she glided down along his length, taking her time with him, savoring his taste, the steady thrum of his pulse under her tongue, his body so familiar to her now. A body, a man, who still belonged to her.
Nothing had changed. She spent hours in his arms, in Ford’s, and the connection she had with Cort remained the same, seeming to grow even stronger with Ford by their side. All that she’d feared became a thing of the past. What they had together was solid, and she could see it lasting forever if they stayed just like this.
The three of them, right here. Because going back to the real world would be a challenge.
One she wasn’t ready to face just yet.
* * * *
They all ended up having a midday nap, but as usual, Cort heard Akira up and about way before he’d even considered opening his eyes. He grinned as he heard her giggling with one of her friends—probably Jami or Sahara. She suddenly told them she’d call back and pressed a button to take the other line.
His grin faded as he remembered that he’d left her phone with her purse back at her apartment. Which meant she was using his.
“Hey, Angel! Yes, he’s right here, I just borrowed his phone for a . . . hey, are you okay?”
Cort schooled his face and held out his hand. “Let me talk to her.”
Akira frowned at him, but nodded. “I’ll pass you to him, one sec.”
There were so many questions in Akira’s eyes, and he couldn’t answer any of them. He also knew leaving the room to talk wouldn’t help, but he didn’t have a choice. This wasn’t a conversation he could have in front of Ford and Akira.
“Hey, Angel.” He made sure to keep his tone light, even though her calling had him uneasy. She wasn’t supposed to contact him unless there was a problem. “What’s going on?”
“I broke up with Dave. I’m so sorry!” She let out a broken sob. “He’s just . . . he’s so sweet and I can’t do this anymore. I feel like a whore and it didn’t bother me at first—I needed the money. But he’s trying so hard, and he knows something’s not right even when I’m playing the perfect girlfriend. I even considered doing this for real, only . . . I don’t feel anything for him. Every time he tells me he loves me—”
“I know, sweetie. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”
“But I told you I could! You’ve trusted me with stuff like this before, but it just feels so wrong.”
Cort took a deep breath. He should have expected this, but he’d been desperate. And still was. The Cobras had a game tonight. Maybe he could figure something else out if he had a bit more time. But it made him feel sick to ask. “Could you have dinner with him? Maybe tell him you’re willing to give him another chance?”
“Damn it, Cort, why do you hate the kid so much? That would destroy him. I made a clean break. It’s over.”
“I don’t hate him.” This was just business. The fucking business of keeping Ford alive. Maybe using the young goalie to do it was heartless, but . . . damn it, didn’t matter. He didn’t have that option anymore. “Forget it. You’re right. This has gone far enough.”
Angel sighed. “You don’t have to give me the last payment. I know I made a mess of things—”
“You did everything you were supposed to. I’ll pay you—give you a bit extra so you can go on a trip.” His lips thinned as she quickly agreed. He knew she understood the reason for the trip. If she wasn’t around, her guilty conscience was less likely to lead to a confession. He couldn’t handle that on top of everything else.
Both Akira and Ford were up when he returned to the room. Akira chewed at her bottom lip as he began packing up.
Ford tugged on his jeans and then stepped up to Cort’s side. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going home.” He shrugged off the hand Ford placed on his shoulder. “You know how it is, kid. Don’t fucking ask.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re out.” Ford moved quickly, blocking the door with his arm before Cort could leave the room. “Angel is one of my girls. If something’s wrong—”
“Angel’s fine. And we both know I’ll never be out. Not completely.” Cort squared his shoulders, staring at Ford’s arm. “Get out of my way.”
Akira made a soft, pleading sound. “Don’t fight. Things are . . . they’re better.”
“It’s not a fight, shorty,” Ford said, holding Akira’s gaze until she nodded and settled back on the bed to watch them warily. Then he turned back to Cort. “She knows your stepdad. If it’s him, I get it. I won’t ask.” Ford moved his arm, his tone sharp as Cort strode by him. “But you’ll tell me if there’s anything I can—”
“You know I will.” Cort felt an icy calm settle over him as he latched on to the one thing he knew would get Ford to back off. He dropped the bags by the door. “Not trying to be an asshole, man. Just . . . there’s some things you don’t need to know.”
Chapter Twenty
“Max?”
Max sat up, rubbing his thighs and smiling at Oriana as she crossed the locker room. Damn, he loved the way she blushed, trying not to look at the men lounging around the room in different states of undress. The game was gonna start in about half an hour, and usually Tim didn’t let any women in here—too distracting—but Oriana had been spending a lot of time with the team doctor. Doc seemed to be wavering on taking her on as an intern.
The blushing ain’t gonna help. He inhaled sharply as Pischlar called out to Oriana and walked up to her wearing nothing but his jockstrap. Doc was checking on Richards, prodding the shoulder the rookie had thrown out in practice, but he paused his exam to watch Oriana’s reaction.
“Hate to bug you, hon, but the rest of the guys are hogging the medical staff.” Pischlar gave Oriana a sheepish smile. He reached over his shoulder, poking at a spot on his back. “Can you check this for me? Feels a bit stiff.”
Oriana nodded and had Pischlar turn around. She pursed her lips as she dug her fingers into the muscle. “I feel it. Nothing a massage won’t fix. Get on the table.”
Pischlar moved toward one of the tables a trainer had set up. Then he stopped and glanced back at her. “You don’t have to—”
“No, but your shot’s going to suck if I don’t. And like you said, everyone else is busy.” Oriana nudged Pischlar until he was spread out on the table. “Let me know if it hurts too much.”
Within seconds, Pischlar was groaning, an expression of pure bliss on his face as Oriana worked the knots out of his back. He murmured something about being in love with her and Oriana laughed.
“You say that now, but you might feel differently after a bit of time in an ice bath. I think you need to spend more time on your core muscles at the gym. Looks like you’re working on your arms more than your lats or your traps.”
“I agree.” The doc joined Oriana in exploring the muscles of Pischlar’s back, approval clear in his tone. “I’ll speak to the sport
s therapist about getting you on a new PT regime. How does it feel? Sit up and stretch a bit.”
Max winked at Oriana as she glanced over at him, so damn proud of her for showing the doc how good she was without a hint of the nervousness he knew she felt. Doc was as big a part of the organization as any one of the owners—more actually because he’d been here from the start and he was the one constant. Everyone knew Oriana being a Delgado didn’t mean a thing when it came to becoming part of the medical staff. Keane and Richter were smart enough to leave Doc fully in change.
Doc walked with Oriana over to Max when they were done with Pischlar. “I take it you didn’t come here to try to convince me to give you a permanent position?”
“No, doctor. Actually, I came to talk to Max.”
“I see.” The doc inclined his head at Max. “Have you both settled in well?”
“Just signed a new mortgage, Doc,” Max said, knowing the doc wanted to make sure they were sticking around. “Nice school district and everything.”
“Excellent.” The doc’s attention shifted to the other side of the room. “Vanek, enough with the Red Bull! One can a day! Can’t you read the label?”
While Vanek stuttered an apology, bouncing on his soles in a way that made it obvious he had way too much caffeine in his system, Max pulled Oriana to sit beside him on the long bench in front of his stall. He reached back into his stall to grab the Tiger Balm Oriana had gotten for his shoulder. He laughed when she snatched it out of his hand and began to apply it to exactly the right spot.
“Sweet of you to come down here just to take care of me.” He teased, knowing full well that wasn’t why she was here. “The guys are lucky I don’t mind sharing.”
“Ah, but Sloan won’t be too happy if you’re too generous.” Oriana let out a dreamy sigh. “He might beat me if I tell him the thoughts that went through my head when I saw Pischlar’s tight ass.”
“He wouldn’t beat you, he knows how much you like it.” Max chuckled as he pictured Sloan’s reaction to Oriana gushing about another man. “I’m thinkin’ he’d have you write Pischlar a nice, long letter, telling him how much you like his ass. And make you present it to him. At the club. Naked.”
Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5) Page 33
