Blacke and Blue

by Fiona Blackthorne

  “I’m sure there will be, Mother,” Ger said with a frown.

  “That’s very nice of you to do that for your sons, Mrs. McDade,” Trisha said, sounding like she was trying to diffuse the situation.

  “When you have children, Miss Blacke, you find you’ll do that much and everything else under the moon for them.”

  Ger felt Trisha subtly shrink back against him at the animosity in his mother’s voice.

  “I heard Ian is going to be late tonight because of something that happened in Elkville.” His mother’s icy look was laid straight on Trisha. “Make sure you and your guest don’t eat all the food. I don’t have nothing more at home I can make. I have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. Oh, and the attic’s leaking again. You’ll have to come over tomorrow and fix it.”

  Patience was a virtue he had cultivated over a lifetime, but it felt like every damn drop of it was being used up right now. He took a deep breath.

  “Thank you, Mother,” he said. “I will see what I can do about the roof. Tell Dad I said hello.”

  His mother’s eyebrows shot up at the dismissal, polite though it was. He had never actually dismissed his mother from his house before. Usually, he and Ian had just put up with her pottering about, poking and prying into everything. It was easier than dealing with the passive aggressive guilt trips and nasty comments about ungrateful children that could go on for weeks after a single incident.

  He faced his mother, unflinching, drawing strength from the thought that Trisha was there, that he wanted to protect her from his mother’s scorn, that Trisha somehow completed the missing piece to the puzzle of his strength to deal with everything in his life. He knew that Barbara McDade was not one to back down, but he held his ground and his gaze, and finally, she grunted and left through the back door.

  “If it’s not convenient for me to stay here,” Trisha began to say, but he wasn’t about to let her cast any doubts on her staying now…or ever.

  He simply pulled her against him and silenced her with a kiss, putting all his passion into it and hoping she got the message.

  Chapter 10

  It took Trisha a moment to realize that her feet were no longer touching the ground. The pleasure of Ger’s passionate kiss seemed to snake through all her veins, zinging from the small delicate nerves of her lips and flying across her skin to her nipples and fingertips.

  When he had wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet, she realized that her pussy was now directly pressed against his cock. Zipper against zipper, she felt his hardness pushing the teeth of the zipper of her jeans against her clit, which began to ache and throb with a want that had been so long asleep, it was almost painful to awaken.

  Just as she thought she was going to faint from the potent combination of no air and too much kissing, Ger released her lips, only to bend his forehead to hers and breathe deeply, looking into her eyes searchingly. He hitched her up so that her legs now wrapped around his waist and her butt rested on the edge of the counter, the cold granite a tantalizingly sharp sensation through the fabric of her pants.

  What was she doing? She had to stop. This wasn’t right.

  “Ger,” she gasped, fighting for control of herself as he tugged off her jacket and began to kiss her neck. “Stop, I can’t do this. We shouldn’t…”

  His breath was soft and warm against the tender skin of her neck just behind her earlobe. He placed deliberately feathery kisses from that point down to the collar of her T-shirt.

  “We should,” he said with a ring of authority in his voice that made every passion point in her body jump to attention and demand satisfaction. He traced the line of her collar with his finger then pulled it aside to place more kisses on her collarbone. He traced the shallow V of the neckline, letting his fingers barely tease her skin just on the other side of the line of fabric.

  “Are you telling me you don’t want this?” he asked, moving his hand to cup her breast through her shirt.

  Trisha forgot every word she knew as her body arced as if jolted by an electric current. The ache in her breasts and her pussy just from his simple touches and kisses was unbearable, teasing her with an orgasm that was just out of reach but that promised so much more than her own lonely fingerings.

  “You want this,” Ger said with quiet determination. “You need this. You want me. You need me. Don’t fight me, my love. You won’t win because you’d be fighting yourself.”

  “I’m on a case,” she gasped, blinking and breathing hard as she made one last mental lunge for rationality as he thumbed her nipple through her shirt and bra. How could this be? How could she be so ready to explode at just a touch? Was she that weak, or had it been too long? Or was it she was so empty that the smallest drop could fill her to overflowing?

  “You’re a warm, living woman,” Ger replied, bringing his lips to hers again. “It’s time you remembered that, even if you are on a case.”

  His tongue punctuated the end of his sentence by sweeping over the seal of her lips, and as she parted them to draw in a hiss of breath, he invaded, caressing and coaxing her own tongue to wrap around and duel with his, to open her mouth wider, to allow him to go deeper. Somewhere in the darkest part of her mind, she saw herself doing this with his cock, wanting it, wanting to suck and swallow and submit.

  He picked her up easily off the counter, went out to the hall, and climbed the narrow stairs with her. She was barely aware of the creak of old hinges and a chill in the air as darkness now surrounded them. Hunger was warming her, burning through her brain, turning all conscious thought to ash. Her skin was prickling against the texture of all the fabrics against it, and the only texture she wanted was his skin, his callused hands, and the velvet of his cock.

  Drugged from kisses, she lay on the enormous four-poster where he had gently set her down while he quickly kindled a fire in the small hearth along the wall. Little bits of light began to dance in the shadows, and warmth flowed smoothly out of the fire like honey pouring from a jar. She saw heavy twill drapes in navy blue, an old mahogany highboy, and impeccably white sheets on a bed that overwhelmed and filled the room with its size.

  Trisha pulled herself up and leaned back on her elbows, struggling to surface from too many kinds of heat. She saw Ger had stood up now and was walking back to her. He had managed to remove his boots and shirt while she wasn’t looking, and now, he picked up her right leg and deftly yanked off her own boot and sock, then did the same with her left.

  Instinctively she grimaced, worrying that her feet smelled from too long a day in wool and rubber, but Ger held her feet in his hands, refusing to let them go from his steely grip.

  “You have the prettiest little feet,” he said, grinning as he put one foot down and gently caressed her ankle and high arch. He planted a kiss on the top of her foot, and added, “But don’t worry, Agent Blacke, I’m not a foot fetish kinda guy. I’m after a much, much bigger prize.”

  Trisha opened her mouth to say something, anything, but again, she couldn’t find any words lying about in the desire-scorched landscape of her mind. She got in a quick breath and then Ger was with her again, her tongue reaching out to play with his this time, to draw him in and suck on him. She grinned when she heard his groan of pleasure.

  He rolled them so that they were in the middle of the bed and the covers were now pulled down.

  “I have wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Trisha,” he said. “I saw you, all spitting mad in the station, all fire and passion and blue eyes.”

  She lay there, listening to his hypnotic, seductive words as he began to fish for the buttons on her shirt, popping them one by one to reveal the T-shirt underneath. She was dazed, amazed, swept away, and imprisoned in a place of pleasure she had no idea existed.

  He lifted her up to pull off the two shirts, and suddenly, circles of warmth and chill swirled in the air around her skin. Suddenly, this was real, vivid, and present.

  “Oh God,” she breathed. “I don’t know…I can’t…�
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  “You are so beautiful,” Ger said tenderly, lowering himself to plant kisses on her belly. “So soft. Every inch a woman, feminine, and perfect.”

  “Holy shit!” she exclaimed as her clit throbbed when he swirled his tongue in her belly button at the same time as one of his hands went to palm her pussy through her jeans. She tried to look down the length of her body at him, and he glanced up, wicked tenderness in his eyes.

  “Every bit a lady,” he teased, softly rubbing her pussy and kissing his way up, stopping to trace each rib in tiny kisses.

  The door to the bedroom slammed open, and Trisha screamed, her too-taut nerves fracturing into complex shards of fear, desire, anger, and terror.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Through the haze of lustful terror, she realized she knew that voice. She would know it anywhere.

  Ian.

  She opened her eyes and saw him standing there in the doorway, the cold wafting off his coat and his skin, his eyes wild and electric with worry.

  Ger hadn’t moved from his place on top of Trisha, and she was grateful for his warmth because suddenly she felt far too cold and far too exposed. What would Ian think? What could he think, seeing her like this with his brother, when just hours before, he had been drawing the same kind of dark desire from every pore in her skin when he had her pushed up against the wall of the store?

  What was she doing, almost having sex with a suspect? What was she thinking, wanting to have sex with the sheriff in charge of the investigation into this suspect? What on earth had possessed her to want to let loose dark images of herself entangled with both brothers?

  “Oh God,” she wailed, her thin, fragile heart cracking like overheated glass cooled too quickly. Shame, fear, humiliation, and anger pulsed in her veins, trying to fight back the corrosive tide of desire that still wanted to run thick and hot through her body.

  “Shhh, Trisha,” Ger murmured soothingly, his lips against her ear. “It’s all right. It’s all right, sweetheart.”

  She covered her face with her hands and tried to roll out from under Ger, but he held her firmly in place, something she was both grateful and angry for. She knew this had to be resolved, but she didn’t want to have to face it.

  The bed dipped next to her, and she jumped as icy hands encircled her waist and pulled her out from under Ger, moving her so that she lay on top of cold jeans and an unbearably hot chest. The feeling of warm, slightly sweaty skin and firm muscles under her fingers finally had her opening her eyes to see that she was now sitting astride Ian.

  The professional concern and personal fear she had seen in his eyes earlier had changed to something darker, richer, and much, much more direct. Her breath caught in her throat as Ian moved one hand from her waist and skimmed it down from the base of her neck to the buttons of her jeans.

  “Baby,” he breathed. “You’re a fucking goddess!”

  She felt Ger’s chuckle against her back and realized he was now kneeling behind her, his hands rubbing her back and coming around her shoulders to toy with her bra straps.

  “We can’t do this,” she gasped, whimpering in an attempt to swallow a moan of pleasure as Ger’s warm fingers traced circles on her shoulders and ran down the lines of her bra cups and back up to the straps.

  “Why the hell not?” Ian panted, his fingers yanking forcefully at the buttons on her jeans. “I want you. Ger wants you. You want us. Let it happen, baby.”

  “The…the…” All the words disappeared from her mind, and the idea of the investigation seemed about as remote as Timbuktu. In this moment, the only thing she could remember about herself was that she was a woman, and that she wanted him, and he wanted her, too.

  “We want to make you feel so good, love,” Ger said. “You belong here, in our arms.”

  “I, uh, um…” Where on earth was her brain? Oh, right, puddling between her legs as Ger pulled down her straps with a gentleness and slowness that was almost painful in its sensuality. At the same time, Ian was jerking at her jeans, working the buttons and zipper with a roughness that was promising a different kind of sensual pain.

  Ger’s fingers made short work of the front clasp on her bra, and suddenly, it fell away from her. She was bare from the waist up, her breasts exposed for both of them. For a moment, they both stopped touching her, and the loss of their touch made her feel more vulnerable and more excited than she could ever remember being. Could this much lust be normal? This was so unlike her in so many ways.

  None of that mattered when Ger cupped her bare breasts in his callused hands, using his thumbs and forefingers to flick and roll her nipples.

  “Holy fucking shit!” she exclaimed as each flick at the most sensitive tip of the nipple sent a throb that rang and reverberated like a huge brass bell in her clit. He flicked her again, this time nipping at her neck then licking the small sting away, and the throb pulsed so close to a climax that she cried out and bucked in frustration.

  Ian took advantage of her arching and tautness and grabbed her jeans and panties in his grip. In one smooth movement, he had them down her hips and thighs. She heard his hiss of need as she felt the air expose her pussy and her ass. The scrape of Ger’s jeans against her ass awakened decadent memories of the night before in front of her hotel room.

  “God, she’s beautiful,” Ian proclaimed, thrusting his hand between her legs and deftly inserting his fingers into her pussy.

  His rough handling turned Trisha on in ways she never thought possible. He made her feel hot, sexy, dirty, and gorgeous. He made her feel free. Powerful. Wanton.

  Ger slipped his arm around her waist and lifted her up, pulling her back against his bare, hot chest as Ian yanked off the rest of her jeans. Ger then gently placed her back upon the mattress, cradling her head as he laid it on the pillow and inhaling a soft kiss against her lips.

  How could one man’s gentle worship turn her on as much as another man’s sensual brutality? Ger graced her with the fantasy of being the pretty princess, the desired goddess, the porcelain doll to be adored. She felt cherished, cared for, and comforted like never before in her life.

  As she lay naked upon the white sheets, with two men’s heated gazes upon her, she wondered how she would ever be able to choose one or the other…and how she would ever be able to leave?

  Chapter 11

  The air had lost all its chill. It was that, or Trisha was now so feverish with want, she had no way of telling if the air around her was freezing or burning.

  Darkness ringed the edges of her vision as the sight of the two men before her seemed to loom large and absorb all the light.

  Ian, his face hard from desire, reached down and unceremoniously lifted her up, letting her head flop back over his arms as he brought his lips to her breasts.

  “Sweet,” he groaned around the nipple in his mouth.

  Trisha could only moan as his teeth and tongue worked and worried the textured tip. He captured her nipple with his teeth and pulled, letting his teeth scrape over the nub as he released it. Her cry of pleasure sounded remote to her ears as he roughly shifted her so he could bend over her other breast and repeat the movement.

  “Sensitive,” he added, swirling his tongue around her areola.

  “She smells so damn good,” Ger said, his voice making Trisha jump even as his hands dug into her hips and lifted them slightly to tilt her pussy upwards toward him. “Smoke and musk and rose.”

  “I can smell her from here,” Ian replied, dropping her back against the pillows and unzipping his jeans.

  “Wait, I smell?” Trisha mumbled, confused and worried that it was bad.

  “You smell like my woman,” Ger rumbled, his lips against her pussy, the vibration of his voice sending her clit into a ticklish spiral of teasing want. “I’m going to taste you. I’m going to use my tongue until you come, and then I’m going to make you do it again.”

  She found herself panting in anticipation at Ger’s words, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for that first touch
of tongue.

  “Open your eyes, baby,” Ian commanded, and she did, finding him unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans.

  She watched in desire-drenched fascination as he slid off his pants and his cock sprang free. It was huge and thick, swollen with lust—lust for her! She was causing these reactions. She was inspiring this desire in these men!

  The realization released something dark and needful in her, and without thinking, she leaned over and took Ian’s cock deep in her mouth. At the same moment, Ger flicked out his tongue against her clit, as if in reward. Ian grabbed a nipple and thumbed it roughly, his other hand fisting in her hair.

  Trisha moaned around his cock as it filled her mouth, forcing her jaw to stretch almost uncomfortably wide. She swirled her tongue around the crowning ridge and crooned in triumph when she felt Ian’s entire body stiffen and still, even though his fist in her hair clenched painfully tight, and his twist on her nipple became merciless.

  Her triumph was short-lived when Ger added his fingers to his tongue, working them inside her and crooking them to find that exact spot that she had never known existed until the other night—the spot that made her writhe and thrash with heightened yet unrelieved need.

  “God, I could spend days eating you,” Ger said.

  “Wait ’til she gets her mouth on you,” Ian groaned. “Shit, slow down, baby!”

  Trisha couldn’t slow down if she wanted to. The need she felt to give Ian the best blow job of his life, to show him back how rough and sexual she could be, was burning her from the inside out. With Ger’s mouth on her pussy and the way he was tonguing her and sucking on her clit, there was no way to think, to measure, to calculate. There was only sucking and moving.

  Ger began to nibble her clit, scraping along it with steady, almost-painful nips that left a stinging throb that was growing more and more intense. With every pass, Trisha knew she was only seconds away from something blinding and bigger than her.

  She feverishly sucked and swirled Ian’s cock, struggling but reveling when he couldn’t help but start thrusting slightly into her mouth.