“I’m gonna wrap you around my finger, Trisha,” Ian replied. “Turn you inside out with pleasure and make you admit how much you want me, how much you want us. We’re going to give you exactly what you need and what you want, even if you don’t know what it is.”
With a wicked chuckle that darkened his eyes, Ian bent his mouth to her pussy again, teasing her by licking up and down her pussy lips, avoiding her aching clit. His tongue circled her opening but went no further, leaving her snarling in frustration.
“Damn it!” she said, exploding, trying to kick Ian to get him to lose his control, do something that would make him take her and end the growing hunger that was getting so big, she was frightened of the power of her insatiability.
“Bad girl!” Ian laughed, landing a stinging spank on her ass that made her clit jump with need at the same time as Ger pulled her head backwards so he could invade her mouth with his tongue for an upside-down kiss.
Ian clamped down on her clit with his teeth, and she felt him testing the amount of pressure to use as she finally twitched and groaned into Ger’s unending, breath-stealing kiss. Ian’s teeth were biting down just enough that she could feel the first hint of pain, but when he began to slowly scrape along her clit, she whined at the building tingling that was stealing all the light in her eyes and turning her gaze deeply inwards to a place that was nuclear white.
Ger’s hand came around her neck, not squeezing but firm and possessive enough to let her know he could if he wanted to. At the same time, Ian’s teeth reached the point of her clit, and he did a quick bite then swirling lick.
Light pulsed in laser points behind her eyes, and all existence shrank and expanded into nothing but a series of throbs that pushed her into a high atmosphere where she almost couldn’t breathe.
She didn’t feel like she was coming down. The throbbing continued, and the sobs she faintly heard turned out to be hers. Opening her eyes, she saw Ger and Ian had moved her to be on her hands and knees. Still, the only things that registered were the aftershocks of pleasure and a lingering unfulfilled want to be full.
She saw Ger on his knees before her, offering his cock to her lips. Greedily, she took him in as deeply as she could, wanting to feel as full of him in her mouth as possible. At the same time, she felt Ian from behind, pressing his enormous cock into her pussy. She felt so gloriously decadent, nasty, and sensual. Every fantasy she had ever harbored in the dark was coming to life with these two amazing men. Her ass twitched, and she wondered what it would be like to be so completely full of them.
She was shocked when she felt Ian run his fingers over her drenched pussy as if collecting her honey. He flicked at her clit, and she cried out around her mouthful of Ger.
“Oh, baby,” Ian said, his voice tight with tension and desire. “This is going to be so good. Just relax. Focus on relaxing.”
She couldn’t help but clench in anticipation of what she thought might be coming. This earned her another stinging slap on her other ass cheek.
“That’s not relaxing, baby,” Ian crooned, rubbing the tip of his wet finger over the tight opening between her ass cheeks.
“Do as Ian says, love,” Ger said, fisting her hair in his hand. “You’re gonna fly, and soon, you’re gonna have one of us in your pussy, and one of us in your ass, and you’ll come like you’ve never come before.”
Trisha squealed but kept trying to suck Ger’s cock as she felt Ian’s finger test the opening of her ass. There was the pinch and bite of her muscle, but his wet finger quickly slipped past that, and suddenly, she was full in a way she had never imagined.
Ger cupped her jaw and held her face still as he slowly began to thrust in and out of her mouth, testing just how far he could go without making her gag. At the same time, Ian moved his finger in and out of her ass, and he began to pump his cock into her pussy.
The fullness and the movement left her reeling, and when Ian added another finger to her ass and used his other hand to reach around and thumb her clit, she cried deep in her throat at so much sensation and want and need and filling. Ger reached down to grab a nipple, and as he flicked and twisted it, Ian did the same to her clit. Their cocks and fingers moved in and out of her, and then everything bloomed for her.
Her climax was so full and beautiful and layered, it was like watching a time-lapse video of a flower blooming in super fast-forward. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to throb with its own private orgasm, and she was oddly aware of her toes curling so hard they were cramping.
Ger pulled out of her mouth and came on her hanging breasts, sounding like a wild thing growling in his pleasure. Ian’s hot, harsh breath was on her back as he strained himself into her deeper than before and then stilled, coming and beginning to shake with the intensity of his release.
Again, Trisha found herself blinking in and out of a soft, fluffy daze, docilely accepting the warm washcloth over her body and the cool lotion on her ass. She slipped back against the pillows, snuggling deep and simply resting, trying to comprehend and embrace the enormity of what she had just experienced.
She had never felt so sexual, so free, so pleasured in all her life.
And with the two men who had done this to her now naked and snuggled up against her under the covers, softly caressing her and whispering praise and endearments, she had never felt so loved.
What on earth was she going to do?
Chapter 13
Trisha became aware of the falling away of her easy drifting. Like a fog being blown away in soft puffs, the world around her began to take shape, linear time, and purpose again. As for meaning, well, if all this had any meaning, hell if she could figure it out.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes and looked from Ian to Ger on either side of her. Both of them were gazing intently at her. Ger’s expression was warm and calm, his odd golden eyes seeming to glow with happiness. She would almost call it loving if she didn’t know better that love couldn’t happen just like that. Ian’s face was grave and thoughtful, but instead of feeling chilled by it, she found it made him look kinder, even a little older. She saw the first glints of white at his temples, and glancing back at Ger, she realized some of the lines on his face came from age, and not all just wind and sun and cold.
How long had they been alone? They must have been at least as old as she was, if not a few years older. Not married. No kids. Just the two of them in this house in this godforsaken fishing village on the coast of Maine.
Had they really said all those things about alternative lifestyles here in Blue Moon? Sure, the psychologist in her was perfectly politically correct and agreed that there was nothing wrong with any of what they had described. The law officer in her, however, saw risk and danger everywhere. Experience had steeped her in evil and gore until any deviance seemed to her the first step on a slippery slope toward darkness, madness, and violence.
Yet, here she was, physically blissed out by one of the most amazing sexual experiences of her life. It was something that she would clearly have labeled as potentially deviant and as having a source in some kind of childhood trauma or self-esteem issues if the woman between Ger and Ian had been anybody but herself.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Ger asked, turning her face to him and brushing her lips with his.
Her body surged exhaustedly with the memory of too much desire, and she groaned slightly, squirming away from him.
“Penny?” Ian chuckled, running his fingers up and down her shoulder. “I’m betting it’s at least three hundred an hour for her thoughts.”
“Stop touching me,” Trisha moaned, rolling away from Ian and back to Ger. “I am so worn out. I can’t do it again. Don’t tease.”
She yelped at the stinging slap on her ass from Ian.
“Then you’d better get up, Blacke,” Ian smirked, yanking the covers back and off her. “Or, we’re going to stay in bed all day until you really can’t take it anymore.”
“Besides,” Ger added, getting up and leaving her cold without any body heat
or covers. “We’ll miss the town meeting if we stay in bed any longer.”
“What the fuck?” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in bed. “What town meeting? What the hell, McDade?” She rounded on Ian. “And just when were you going to tell me about this?”
Ian glared at Ger briefly. “I wasn’t. It’s just your usual calm-the-citizens-down thing. You don’t need to go.”
“Calm-the-citizens-down thing?” Trisha snapped, feeling her temper make her ears hot as she scrambled for her clothing. “So you need to calm them down about serial killers on a regular basis? Or is it something else you’re hiding from me?”
What the hell? Ger glanced. Down and to the left. Shit. He was hiding something. The last words she had heard last night came back into her mind.
She tried to breathe and calm herself. Being snappish and nasty about everything wasn’t going to help her. Feeling crestfallen and cold, all warmth and bliss from making love with these two men completely gone, she stormed off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
“Hot water,” she muttered, stepping into the shower. “Hot water and serenity now!”
Ten minutes later, she went back to the bedroom, wrapped in towels and what she hoped was a forbidding scowl. Ger was gone, but Ian was lounging in a wing chair by the now-cold fireplace, checking his phone. She noticed one of them had brought up her suitcase and workbag.
“Do you mind?” she said pointedly to Ian, staring at him, then staring at her suitcase.
He glanced up at her, caught her look, and smiled innocently.
“Nope,” he said, going back to his phone. “I don’t mind at all.”
“I’m going to dress.”
“That’s good. It’s cold outside. Snowing, too.”
“Get out.”
Ian looked back up at her and chuckled. He stood up and walked over to her with the kind of confidence and ease that now oozed sex to Trisha’s hungry eyes. He stood in front of her, looking down at her, then bent down and kissed the tip of her nose.
“I’ve seen you naked before,” he said. “I’ll see you naked again.”
His smile faded, and a dark heat took its place in his eyes.
“It’s only a matter of time, Trisha,” he said quietly, then left her in the room.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Why did someone like Ian McDade have to be right?
She turned and punched a pillow.
And felt just a little better.
* * * *
Cold coffee from the nightstand and her own, clean clothes went a long way to make Trisha feel much more like Agent Blacke again.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Ian’s SUV, she looked eagerly out the window at the town of Blue Moon as they drove through the snow-narrowed streets.
“It’s really a pretty town,” she commented. “Charming. Pretty. You really get a feel of history here.”
Ian nodded but kept his eyes on the road. “Most of the buildings in town date to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A few of the newer buildings are mid-nineteenth century. Of course, our school, hospital, and town hall are newer. Most of the houses outside of the town center are from the nineteenth century as well.”
“I saw a lot of farmhouses on the drive up here the other day. I saw a lot of trailers, too. I think they had fishing traps or something stacked up in front of them?”
“Those are lobstering crates. The guys put bait in the crate, and the lobsters crawl into it. There’s a rope that attaches the crate to a buoy that is painted with each lobsterman’s individual colors. Makes it easy for the lobsterman to come back and collect his crates full of lobster—plus they put them down in a trail and mark it with GPS nowadays.”
“Do the lobstermen ever take each other’s crates?” Trisha asked, genuinely curious.
“Not if they ever want to see their boats again,” Ian remarked drily.
“You mean they get revenge by sinking boats? How do you deal with that?”
“I don’t,” Ian replied.
“What? But, that’s a crime!”
“So’s stealing another man’s livelihood.”
“A crate versus a boat?”
Ian shrugged. “We have a good harbor master here in Blue Moon, and we generally don’t have problems like that in our town. You mostly get that kind of shit over in Elkville.”
Trisha turned this over in her head, trying to fit behavioral and cultural clues together to figure out which way the compass pointed to her killer.
“What about supplies?” she asked. “Some of the crates looked newer than others. How expensive are crates?”
“Expensive enough that losing one and the lobsters in it can piss a man off,” Ian said. “It’s not all about fighting, though. These guys have a hard living, and they generally help each other out as much as they can. There are some amusing things, too, like the way each lobsterman swears by his own bait mix.”
“I thought it was all just…what is that chopped rotting fish called?”
“Chum?” Ian supplied. “It doesn’t take much to attract a lobster, I’ll admit that. Small brains.”
Trisha choked on her sudden laugh, and for the first time, she heard Ian’s real laugh. It was warm and full, but it had the same sad edge hers did, a laugh that found it difficult to be happy in a life surrounded by all the bad things people did.
“Lately, though,” Ian continued. “There has been a new bait mix I’ve been hearing about. Sold out of Elkville and seems like everything from lobsters to swordfish are biting like crazy on it. We got guys coming up from Massachusetts to get it.”
“Wow. I’m kinda impressed.”
“Sheesh, if I had known that all it took was some rotting fish to get your attention, we could have skipped all that shit earlier.”
They laughed together again, Trisha allowing herself a small moment to revel in the comfortable feeling of not having to fight Ian for once.
He pulled up to the Blue Moon Civic Building, and Trisha immediately noticed that while it was styled to look like it fit in with the older buildings, it had modern composite siding that looked like wood, and the windows were pristine and new. The small lot was overflowing with pickup trucks and beat-up sedans, as well as sleek silver luxury cars, SUVs built for real winter terrain, and several other nice cars.
“How do you want to do this, Blacke?” Ian asked. “I was basically going to give the town a quick briefing on their safety and what they can do, then answer some questions. Do you want to say anything?”
Trisha considered this, noticing the wary look that came into Ian’s eyes.
“I was just going to stand in the back and watch,” she replied.
“That’s not going to fool anyone. Everyone is going to know you’re there.”
“Not if you don’t give me away.”
“I don’t have to give you away. You’re going to be glaringly obvious.”
“My hat completely covers my hair, McDade.”
“I wasn’t talking about your hair.”
“Oh,” Trisha said, unsure of what he actually meant then.
Ian sighed then got out and came around to her side and helped her before she could get out herself.
She followed him up the three shallow steps into the building, through a small lobby, and into a large assembly room. Several hundred people filled the rows and rows of chairs set up before a movable speaker’s platform. They all seemed to blend together in her eyes. Sensible parkas in neutral colors. Knitted caps and thick snow boots. Mittens, red noses, and winter-pale skin. She caught sight of several darker skin colors, and wondered fleetingly what could have brought them and kept them in such a homogenous community.
As her mind adjusted to the sea of people, she began to find patterns in their groupings. Two or three men would be surrounding a woman protectively, and if two women were talking, the men seemed to instinctively huddle them into the middle of a loose circle. Several men acted the same way with another man, in pairs and groups.
Trisha was dumbfounded. Ian had been right about Blue Moon being progressive!
She noticed one group of men and a small brown-haired woman seemed to be a focal point for everyone else. One of the men, tall and dark and forbidding-looking, stood slightly to the front of the woman, though she kept gesturing for him to move to the side so she could talk to the others who came up to her. The other two men, one sandy-haired and handsomely weathered, and the other, bad boy dark and devilish, stood on either side of her, touching her hand, her cheek, her hair, her arm. They were just small, unconscious gestures, but the love was glaringly obvious. Enough that it made Trisha feel incredibly empty and want Ger and Ian next to her. And that made her feel incredibly uncomfortable that she could feel so natural and easy with wanting that.
The small woman had large brown eyes, and upon a closer look, her brown hair was streaked with a kind of slate gray. Her expression was sharp and intelligent, and when Trisha moved closer and caught her voice, she sounded well-educated and articulate.
“No, Sean,” the woman said. “I’m fine. I don’t need any more water. I’d actually like to sit through this meeting without having to run to the bathroom fifteen times.”
“Ava, baby,” the wickedly handsome man by her side crooned, leaning in persuasively. “C’mon, just another sip. You were so sick this morning.”
“I am fine, Sean Molineaux, and if you know what’s best for you, you will take that water and—”
“Dr. Nasir said you could have some juice instead,” said the sandy-haired man on her other side. “Apple juice?”
The woman called Ava widened her eyes with a sudden needy look. “Apple juice?” she repeated. “Yes. I want apple juice.”
“It’s in the car,” the tall, fierce man in front of her said without thinking twice.
Trisha found herself smiling at the care the men were taking of this woman, who seemed to be quite independent-minded nonetheless. It was a welcome moment of distraction before the meeting started.
“Agent Blacke,” boomed a voice from the middle of the room, and with a sinking heart, Trisha looked up to see Big Al Boyer parting the crowd like the Red Sea with his height and muscle coming toward her.
Blacke and Blue Page 10
