His blood had been simmering slowly ever since he’d spotted her strolling into the bar, chatting up her old beau, Danny “Dawg” Denton.
Then she’d deliberately baited him, encouraging Danny to slide up her skirt to get a peek at her creamy cheeks. In her tight little skirt and next-to-nothing top, she should have looked slutty. Instead she seemed more like a little girl playing hard to be a grown-up. Like a woman trying to be bad.
Logan had laughed softly beside him. “Looks like she wasn’t waitin’ on your call for long. But the good news is you read her like a book.”
With her soft bottom winking beneath her flirty skirt, Joe had been out of his seat so fast he’d nearly toppled the table.
“Slow down, will you?” Sarah griped behind him, tugging against his firm grip.
He reached his truck, opened the passenger door, and turned to grip her waist.
“I can manage on my own,” she hissed.
“This is more fun, don’t you think?” he said, lifting her up and sitting her sideways at the end of the bench seat. He reached for the bottom of her skirt and rolled it upward.
Her hands reached to tug it down as he continued shoving up. “We can wrestle over this scrap of fabric,” he said, still seething inside, “but we both know you aren’t shy.”
“Maybe I don’t want to flash my vajayjay to the entire parking lot.”
“Who’s gonna see? I want your skirt around your waist for the drive to Logan’s.”
Her face screwed into a fierce scowl, and then curiosity lent a gleam to her eyes. “Why Logan’s house and not yours?”
“Logan has better toys.”
Her blue eyes rounded. “Oh.”
“Better hurry it up,” Logan said, striding up behind him. “Dawg was making his way to the door.”
Joe flashed her a determined look. “Pull it up or take the damn thing off. It wasn’t covering anything anyway.”
Sarah bit her lip and lifted her bottom as he slid up the skirt. Once again, her naked bottom settled onto a cool seat, this time leather.
“Get to the middle and straddle the stick.”
He darted out of the doorway, and Logan stepped up, arching an eyebrow until she flounced to the center and clumsily swung a leg over the stick shift mounted on the floor of the cab.
Joe slid behind the wheel. “Wave at Danny so he knows you’re all right. Don’t want him breaking down Logan’s door ’cause he thinks you might need rescuing.”
Sarah glanced through the windshield and saw Danny pushing through the double swinging doors. She lifted a hand to wave, and he halted, his gaze narrowing on the two officers flanking her.
“Boyfriend?” Logan asked.
“Like you don’t already know.”
“Old boyfriend,” Joe ammended. “But not the man for you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here now, would you?”
Joe put the truck in reverse, which forced her to widen her legs as he shifted the gear. “Comfortable?” he asked as he pulled onto the road leading the opposite direction from the town.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Logan…”
“Right,” Logan murmured and then placed his hand between her legs again. Deft fingers trailed up her knee, tickling her inner thigh, and then pressed something cold between her folds.
She gasped and tried to wriggle away, but where could she go?
“Hold still,” Logan said. “I’m just putting a little metal egg inside you. Something to keep your mind busy.”
A low hum filled the cab as the egg vibrated.
“Jesus.” Her inner muscles clasped around it, forcing it out, but Logan pressed against the end to hold it in place.
“One of your toys?” she said, clenching her teeth against the riot starting between her legs.
“This toy’s for your pleasure.”
The emphasis on the word your didn’t pass her by. “This how you spend your nights off? Double-teaming some poor girl?”
Logan draped an arm around her shoulders while his fingers kept the egg lodged inside her. “No, tonight’s special.”
His thumb pushed the egg deeper, and the vibrations increased. Sarah couldn’t help but lean back in his embrace to tilt her pussy higher. Hoping the darkness of the cab would cloak her action, she slid fingers toward the top of her cunt and rubbed her clitoris.
Logan curled his fingers around hers and placed her hand on her bare thigh. “Much as we love proof you’re a horny little thing, you don’t get to come until we say so.”
“That was crude.”
“You’re sitting in a truck with two men you barely know, and you just fingered yourself. Tell me you didn’t like it when I called you horny.”
Joe cleared his throat. “Anything you want to know about us, Sarah? We have the advantage here, seeing as how everyone in Honkytonk has their own ‘Sweet Sarah’ tale to tell.”
Logan’s fingers smoothed down her thigh to cup her knee and pull it toward him, opening her wider.
Then Joe’s hand settled on her leg and smoothed upward toward her pussy.
She tensed as his fingers strummed her as if pressing piano keys. Then he circled the end of the egg protruding between her folds and pushed it deeper, his fingers following it inside.
Sarah’s hands came down on Logan’s and Joe’s thighs, and she dug her nails deep as she sank deeper in the seat. They were doing it again. Pretending there was nothing extraordinary happening here. Just a conversation. “You know each other well?” she panted. “Did you know each other before you came here?”
“We’re both from San Antonio,” Joe said evenly. “Worked at different substations, but we liked the same clubs.”
His fingers filled her. Three of them—long and thick. “Bars?” she gasped.
“Private clubs,” Logan said. “Some drinking involved, but that wasn’t the draw.”
“What was…the draw?” she bit out as the vibrations increased.
“The scene,” Logan said, his hand slipping over her shoulder to palm her breast, his thumb starting a slow, wicked up-and-down glide that had her nipple beading hard. “I’m a dom, Sarah. Do you know what that is?”
“Whips…chains?”
“I’ve used them, but it’s more than equipment.”
“More…” she groaned.
“Need me to decrease the vibrations?” he whispered. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your train of thought.”
“No! The ‘more’ at the clubs…what did you mean?”
Logan bent closer to whisper in her ear. “I train submissives, sweetheart.”
“But you came here,” she gritted out. “Why? You’re not going to find women like that here. Into the kinkier stuff.”
“I find them everywhere I go. I was the one who first alerted Joe that you were a likely candidate.”
Sarah froze. “Well, your kink radar needs adjusting. I don’t want to be submissive to any man.”
“Joe and I think otherwise. But I can understand you being a little scared to admit it to yourself.”
“I’m not scared,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction—only because Joe was flicking her clit with this thumb.
“Sure you are,” Logan said, his voice soft and sexy as warm silk. “And incredibly aroused. You do know your whole body’s quivering. That your pussy is pulsing, sucking on the egg now. I can hear the wet noises you’re making.”
“It’s just the vibrations. I like dildos. Have a collection of my own.”
“Liar,” he said, amusement in his rumbling whisper. “Maybe you have toys. But you like this. Like the little thrill of fear of the unknown. You’re already wondering what it’ll be like to feel the flick of a lash.”
“Are you guys gonna make me crawl around on my knees and call you Master?”
“Only if you need it.”
“How will you know…if I need that?”
“Our job is to figure out your needs. Introduce certain aspects of the life and see what works for you. Joe’s not
a dom. Not really. But he’s willing to do whatever you need to make you happy. To free you.”
Joe’s fingers withdrew and made lazy circles around her opening.
Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath. “Anyone around here can tell you I’m already free. Free and easy.”
“Sweetheart,” Joe said, “you’ve been crying out for a man to take you in hand.” He lifted his hand to change gears.
Sarah straightened in her seat to have a look around, grateful to have a moment free of frisky fingers to gather her scattered thoughts and shore up wilting defenses.
He turned into a rural subdivision outside of town where the lots were several acres large. Plenty of privacy. Plenty of live oak and mesquite to shut out curious gazes.
Joe brought the truck to a halt in front of a darkened house near the end of the street, only one light from a distant house blinking in the distance.
“I’m going to go inside and get set up,” Logan said. “You and Joe can talk. Want me to take the egg, Sarah?”
She nodded wordlessly, and Logan slipped his fingers inside her to retrieve his toy.
Once the door closed behind him, she shifted her gaze to the stick shift between her legs.
“Tell me something, Sarah.”
“I’m an open book. Obviously.”
“If you don’t want this, I’ll take you home. If you want me to stay with you when we get there, I’ll love you however you want it. Straight-up sex. But if you think you’d like to do a little exploring, see whether this is for you, we’ll go inside now. Thing is, if you walk through those doors, there won’t be any going back.”
Sarah swallowed. “Would you think me a coward if I chose to go home?”
“No. Your choice isn’t part of the game.”
“Will you be disappointed in me?”
“Do you really care what I think?”
She stayed silent for a long moment. “I think I might.”
His lips twitched. “Never thought you were a girl who didn’t know her own mind.”
Her gaze slid away. “This is all new. I haven’t ever…” She took another breath and tried again. “I haven’t had two men. I haven’t ever tried anything so extreme.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Do you at least trust the fact that we won’t hurt you?”
“You can’t be all that bad, or you never would’ve been hired. The town does pretty thorough background checks before they hire cops.”
“That’s right. There’s nothing to find. No skeletons in the closet. No bound and gagged women lying in my bed either.”
Sarah looked out the window toward Logan’s front door. “He said this isn’t your thing.”
“I’ve always been curious. I’ve experimented some. I can take it or leave it, but I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t think you needed this.”
“What is it about me that makes you think I need this? Do I give off a freak vibe?”
“I’ll explain it to you later. Come inside?”
She turned to tangle her gaze with his. “Do I have to act happy about everything?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t cuss me out at least once tonight.”
“I can’t back out? I don’t get any ‘safe’ words?”
“You won’t need them. If it’s too much, it will be in a good way. If it gets too heavy, I’ll make him stop.”
“You’re both going to have me? Fuck me? And you’re all right with that?”
Joe’s features grew taut. “I won’t share you ever again. And you won’t be flirting with other men either.”
Sarah let her eyelashes dip. “But flirting’s a biological thing—natural for me.”
“You’re going to learn some discipline because I’m a jealous man. You need to learn to restrain your natural inclinations except when you’re with me. Ready?”
“Sweet fuck,” she whispered.
“It will be. Promise.”
Joe heard the string of curses from the playroom and met Logan’s grin.
Joe grabbed his tackle box and strode through the playroom, not giving Sarah a single glance, and then sat at the table and opened his box.
Logan sauntered inside with two beers dangling from one hand and a leather flogger in the other.
Joe set out his tools, pliers, fishing line, feathers, and assorted hooks and began fashioning the first of several lures he intended to make while Sarah “settled.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her flushed face. Her neck craned upward to catch his eye.
Sarah knelt on a thickly padded step, her body draped forward over an upholstered bench that angled downward so her ass was raised high. Her wrists were buckled into restraints that were fastened with snap hooks to the side of the bench to hold her down.
Leather bands enclosing her upper thighs were also fastened to the side of the bench so her knees were spread, her pussy open for anyone standing behind her to see. Only, he’d faced her toward the table so he could watch her changing expressions.
She’d made a show of reluctance, dragging her feet toward the bench. He’d seen the flicker of interest in her gaze when he’d called it a spanking bench, and he knew she’d assumed he’d get down to the business of spanking very quickly, followed by a wild fucking.
Patience wasn’t one of Sweet Sarah’s virtues. When he’d strapped her in and then left her, she’d squealed in frustration and then let loose a nonstop rant that questioned his masculinity, his sexual persuasion, and even his mother’s species.
Logan tapped his foot under the table. Joe raised his gaze and followed it to the velvet pouch he’d deposited on the table along with other implements they’d use as the evening progressed.
Joe picked up the bag and poured the contents into his palm. Nipple clamps—tweezers, really. Joe shoved away from the table and walked toward Sarah.
Her gaze narrowed with deadly intent.
Joe dangled the clamps from the metal chain attached to both in front of her nose.
Her face screwed up in confusion, and then their function dawned on her. Her head reared back. “You are not putting those on my tits.”
“Need I remind you that you left free will behind at the door?”
“That was before I knew you were just bringing me here to play with the furniture.”
Joe knelt in front of her. The padded bench ended just beneath her breasts, so they swung free, the distended tips pointing toward the floor.
He pushed the metal circle at the bottom of one clamp down to open it and held it to her nipple as he pushed the circle up to tighten it. “This too tight?” he asked softly.
Her lips trembled and then firmed into a straight line.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He slid the ring higher, listening to her erratic breaths. The higher he nudged the circle, the shorter her intakes of air—until a tiny whimper slipped between her lips.
He eased off slightly and then applied the second clamp to her other nipple.
When they were both in place, he tugged the chain suspended between them, straightened, and walked away.
Behind him, Sarah sighed.
Logan picked up an apple from the bowl of fruit he’d brought out. He polished it against his shirt and then dropped it back into the bowl, picking up a large plum next. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as his gaze met Joe’s, and he stood.
Joe settled in his seat, peering over his shoulder as Logan walked toward Sarah and then circled behind her.
Although she tried, she couldn’t quite crane her neck around to see what he was up to.
Logan knelt on the second kneeling pad behind her, causing the leather to squeak, and arched a wicked eyebrow at Joe. The plum disappeared.
From the opening and closing of her lips, Joe didn’t have to guess where the plum went.
Logan bent over her, placed a kiss on the top of her hip. “Plums are made for dipping, don’t you know?”
His face disappeare
d behind her. Sarah’s eyes closed for a moment, her lips pursing around a quickly drawn breath and then easing as Logan came back up.
“Maybe a little too ripe for my taste. Joe, why don’t you give it a try?”
Joe stood slowly, adjusting himself because he’d become too aroused for his cock not to pass notice. Logan’s smirk as he passed him on the way back to his table told him he understood his predicament, but didn’t have an ounce of sympathy.
Sarah’s face craned upward, color washing her cheeks beet red.
As he came around her backside, he couldn’t resist sliding his open palm over one cheek. Soft, creamy skin, rounded buttocks—perfectly made to cushion a man when he came at her from behind.
Then his gaze fell on her open sex, where the purple plum was nestled between reddened labia, which were engorged and glistening with arousal.
His mouth watered even before he knelt on the padded bench and bent downward. He stroked his tongue over the fruit, touching the delicate lips gripping it.
Sarah’s bottom quivered.
He stroked again, tasting the sweet plummy taste, and bit the flesh. Liquid dripped from the fruit, spilling over her hooded clit to land on the leather. “Juicy,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. He smeared his finger in the juice and reached around to her face.
“Bite me and I promise you’ll be here all night,” he said softly.
Her lips opened, and her tongue swept out to take the sweet juice, licking his finger clean.
As a reward for her obedience, he licked the juices from around the fruit and then dipped lower and pulled her clitoris between his lips and suckled it.
Sarah’s hips tilted higher, and he suckled harder, swirling his tongue across the hardening nub until her quivering came in waves, and her thighs tensed hard.
When she mewled, he pulled away, pressed his thumbs against each side of her opening, and popped out the plum.
As he walked back to the table, he ate the fruit, tossing the pit into the trash can without looking back to see her expression.
Logan’s one-sided grin told him what he needed to know. Sarah wasn’t happy. His chin lifted toward the lure Joe had just finished off with a snip of his pliers. “What kinda fish you gonna catch with that thing?”
Texas Men Page 10
