Seduced by Three

by Sylvia Ryan

  “What about your leg?”

  “Today, you’ll be doing all the work.” He smiled at her. “Enjoy it and commit it to memory because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” His eyes twinkled, and his lips twisted into a near smirk. “When it comes to sex, I don’t let women have their way with me. It’s usually the other way around.”

  She shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  He raised his eyebrows and pointed at her and then himself. “Pot and kettle, Gracie. Pot and kettle.”

  She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, and with one smooth yank, pulled it over her head.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered his praise as he gathered Grace in his arms and guided her body on top of his. “Now, let’s set the rest of the world aside and just be in the here and now. All your other worries will wait.”

  Chapter 13

  No feelings, just sex, she told herself over and over as her heart wrenched in her chest. She felt like she was going to cry as she began to gingerly peel Sarge’s clothes off. Was this what her life had come to? She was forcing herself not to feel, because she was on the verge of feeling too much and loving too many.

  She could have never predicted that her impulsive attraction to Van would come back to bite her in the ass. This situation had become so much more complicated in the last twelve hours, and there was no obvious solution to the predicament. She liked them both so much. She didn’t want to reject either one of them. It would be hurtful and humiliating to the one rejected, and she refused to do that.

  This was going to be a pitiful way to move through life. But no matter what happened between her and Sarge, or her and Van, it would have to just be sex. No feelings. It just wouldn’t work any other way.

  It was the solution to having these two men sharing space with her, and each other. But she also knew it was hard for her to not develop feelings for the men she slept with. She was her own worst enemy, easily attaching emotion and sentiment to physical relationships.

  Not this time, she promised herself.

  Maybe in a few months, love would develop between her and one of them. But she wasn’t going to think about that. She was going to live in the moment and see what happened.

  After Grace had peeled the last of their clothing off, she scooted over Sarge with one leg on each side of his torso. His cock was already rock hard. She lifted her body and lowered herself onto him, resting her hands on his chest. Her heart thumped against her ribs, and her breathing became ragged as she stayed motionless for a moment while her body adjusted to accommodate his size. Grace groaned from the sheer pleasure of being filled. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see Sarge’s hot gaze roam over her as she rose and fell in a slow rhythm on his cock.

  “Look at me, Grace,” he murmured.

  She ignored him.

  “Dammit, Grace.” She felt his fingers wrap around the nape of her neck and pull her forward. She opened her eyes to find his blazing eyes mere inches from hers. “I want you to know who you’re fucking when we’re together.” He released the grip on her neck, and she straightened above him.

  Grace looked down at him, and he watched her right back. She could see his gaze taking all of it in, her heaving chest, her pleasure, and her pain.

  “That’s right, Gracie. It’s my cock stretching you so tight,” he growled. “Don’t forget it.”

  He held her down firmly, and his shaft was seated so deep within her that it bumped her cervix. He rested his hands on her hips and set the tempo with the strength of his arms. She leaned forward and braced her hands on either side of Sarge’s head and ground her clit into the base of his shaft while he continued to move inside of her.

  Their faces were inches apart. Slowly, hesitantly, Grace leaned closer and brushed her lips on his. She wanted just a taste, a tease.

  Sarge raised his arms and clamped them around her body, pulling her closer and jamming her lips onto his. Obviously, he didn’t want to be teased. Her body was mashed against his, held immobile while his mouth took hers with the fervor of a desperate man. A guttural noise escaped him as his searing tongue explored.

  Grace wedged her hands in between them and pushed him away. She was afraid of being carried away by the moment, of being sucked into the high intensity of his passion. Once she got enough space between them, she focused on his eyes, expecting to see lust, need, or even anger reflected back at her. She could handle any of those. But instead of the piercing blackness she usually found there, she saw tenderness looking back at her. It shocked her, took her by surprise. Her mind slammed back into reality, back to the emp, the shelter, Van, her dad...

  And just as Sarge pushed his last urgent thrusts into her, coming inside her with a groan, she lost her own nearing climax to the crushing perseverance of her own fears and worries. He was barely recovered from his orgasm when Grace pulled away from him and abruptly got out of bed. His cum trickled down her leg as she tugged on her last clean pair of jeans and threw on a shirt.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Upstairs to see if I can help.”

  Sarge’s dangerous gaze landed on her, and his expression was stone cold. “We’re not done here.” His tone was a warning, plain and clear. “Don’t run away, Grace.” He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her toward the bed. “This isn’t just sex to me, Grace. I care about you. Let me show you. Let me in.”

  She stood speechless. She didn’t know what to say to him.

  The thud of a footfall at the top of the stairs let her off the hook. She broke eye contact with Sarge and looked up to find Van at the top of the stairs.

  “Leave it open, I’m going out,” she called up as she turned and walked away from Sarge. “How you feeling?” she asked when she met up with Van at the bottom of the stairs.

  Without warning, Van tugged Grace into a one-armed bear hug. He pressed her tightly against his chest. “I’m good, thanks to you.”

  Grace was unbearably aware of Sarge’s leer in their direction. Her muscles tensed. Her spine straightened.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. She was cornered.

  Van loosened his grip, gave her a long, unreadable look, then released her and stepped back. She stood immersed in her own distress while her mind fired quickly, trying to figure out what to say, how to act. She didn’t know what to do.

  Van waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you still with me?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I’m still a little tired. I’m going to see if I can help Luke and soak up a little sunshine and fresh air.”

  “There’s sunshine, but you’re not going to get any fresh air out there. The smell is getting stronger.”

  Grace’s stomach growled, and she realized she still hadn’t eaten. But she didn’t want to go back and—And what, Grace? Face the man you just fucked, or the other man who sparked stomach flips and unwanted, giddy feelings by just hugging you?

  Grace ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

  Food later. Escape now.

  Outside, she found Luke sharpening the end of a two-foot length of wood with a knife.

  “Hey,” he said, glancing in her direction.

  “Hey. What are you doing?”

  “I’m installing a nasty surprise for anyone who wants to jump the fence.”

  “I don’t get it. What are you going to do with that?”

  “Bury as many of these as I can, point side up, on the inside perimeter of the fence. Someone climbs over, and voilà, skewered human.” Luke eyed her for a moment then looked back down at his work. “You can start digging holes with the post hole digger. Have you ever used one?”

  “Never actually used one, but I know how it works.”

  “Ten to twelve inches deep should do it.”

  Grace picked the digger up without another word, walked toward the fence, and started stabbing the hard clay earth with the tool.

  Her thoughts turned to Sarge immediately, remembering the feeling of her skin on his, o
f his cock inside her.

  His declaration that he cared for her shook her. She snorted. This statement from a man who looked like he felt nothing ninety-nine percent of the time. He was smart. He knew all the sweet things to say. But he played his hand too quickly. He didn’t even know her.

  Before the EMP, she was usually the most assured person around. She was strong, confident, and secure with who she was. Now, he was trying to convince her to cave, to give in to his will, and she found it oddly easy to do. It was an uncharacteristic role reversal that put her in uncharted territory. It felt weird. She’d caught herself several times acting differently around him already. She was weaker when he was around, buckling to his authority without even really thinking about it.

  The fact was, she was having trouble getting control of any part of herself around both Sarge and Van.

  Grace’s mind worked as hard as her arms as she continued to stab holes into the ground. Another truth took root in her mind. She was it for them. There were no other women around. No alternative choices. No other outlet for their need. Sooner or later, she was going to have to beat them off with a stick. How the fuck was she going to be able to do that? Especially when she had genuine feelings for both of them.

  Both men were exceptional, not only in the looks department but also in the badass department. She would have easily been attracted to either of them in the real world, before the EMP. This situation was bound to get more complicated unless she tried very hard to keep it uncomplicated, and she was struggling with that already.

  Grace reluctantly admitted to herself that it felt so good, so completely decadent to be craved by a man. She was greedy for that feeling, that manic joy that came with new possibilities, with being noticed and desired. Wasn’t it what every woman wanted, what she fantasized about when she submerged herself in romance movies and books? Wasn’t it the quest for that feeling that has driven people to all manner of desperate and crazy behavior? What straying spouses risk everything for? Yes, it was a better high than any substance could give, and it was hard to resist, especially when living with it twenty-four hours a day, times two.

  Grace sat back on her heels and surveyed her work. She had gotten a lot accomplished while her thoughts ran wildly around her head. The late-day sun was still hot on her back and shoulders as she hunched over the holes she’d dug. She glanced over her shoulder at Luke sitting on the back steps, shirtless. The muscles in his arms hardened and defined themselves with each forceful slice of his knife over the piece of wood he sharpened.

  His skin was golden brown, like someone who worked outside all summer. He was leaner than Van and Sarge, not as much muscle mass. Shoulder-length brown hair framed his face.

  Son of a bitch. Please let him be boring.

  Luke’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and Grace quickly turned her head away from him. Grace could just feel the kink coming off of him. He exuded a you-better-know-what-you’re-getting-into vibe. What he possessed, that vibe, was her weakness. It was the addiction that kept leading her into heartbreak. He was a bad boy. Oh how she loved the bad boys until they broke her heart.

  Resuming her work, Grace’s mind wandered. They should know her, the real her, not the jellyfish Sarge was trying to mold her into. Grace vowed to be herself all the way. They had to know how stubbornly self-reliant she was. That she wasn’t ever going to be a girly girl. That should get them to cool their heels as far as their attraction to her was concerned, and then life would be easier for all of them.

  Starting on her next hole with the digger, she glanced over her shoulder at Luke. She would make it perfectly clear to Luke and Van that she was not up for grabs and that this situation was not a “may the best man win” scenario. She promised herself that she would stay neutral. She’d keep them all at arm’s length and minimize the chances that someone would get hurt. Sooner or later all of them would walk away from any attraction they felt, and they all could be friends, a cohesive team, surviving together.

  Grace took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steeling her determination. Okay. Let’s see how this goes. She felt a little bit of tension dissipate. As always, once she’d made up her mind and her path was clear, the whirlwind of noxious thoughts settled, clearing the doubts and worries and making her feel better.

  There was just one thing wrong with this scheme. Her determination faltered easily when she was with these guys, and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to hold out against any zealous and persistent attempts to seduce her. She might need some condoms, birth control pills, something, just in case. The week or so worth of pills she had left in her pack were the last of them. After that, she wouldn’t be protected. There was too much temptation here, too much testosterone for that to be safe.

  Chapter 14

  Grace slipped out of bed in the predawn blackness of the shelter. Van’s subconscious mind must have immediately recognized her absence from the small bed, because he rolled into her recently vacated space before it had time to cool.

  She dressed quickly, picked up her boots, and crept up the stairs. She smoothly shut herself out of the shelter then sat at the kitchen table to lace up her boots.

  Once outside, Grace walked toward the gate and realized Luke had padlocked it. She couldn’t easily slip out. Searching the perimeter, she found a way over the fence, but she had some uncertainty whether she would be able to get back over from the other side.

  Grace paused. Her heart hammered in her chest. It wasn’t fear that galvanized her body, it was adrenaline. She liked being rebellious, uncooperative. She had never gravitated toward danger. It was the thrill of being defiant that lured her. Her dad was the same way, and he encouraged her to not be like the “sheeple” in society, the followers. Grace smiled at her dad’s words running through her head as she moved the metal trash can over to the fence.

  Grace turned the can over and stood on top of it. She was perched to pull herself over when an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her down to the ground.

  The split second of fear that shot through her dispersed when she heard Van’s voice in her ear. “Where you going, Grace?” He strangled her waist with his solid python arm.

  “Get off me,” she yelped.

  “Sweetie, if I was on you, you’d know it. Now tell me where you were going.”

  Grace didn’t answer his question. She didn’t want to tell him the reason she was scaling the fence.

  Van carried her toward the house with one arm. Even when trying as hard as she could to struggle against him, she was powerless. He set her gently on the back steps. Then he towered over her with his hands on his hips before he let out a sigh and sat down next to her.

  “It’s none of my business, right?”

  “Exactly.” She glared at him. “You guys can’t keep me here against my will.”

  “Don’t be silly, of course we can.” Van laughed and leaned over, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Aww, don’t be mad,” he said, bumping her again. “We just want to keep you safe. You’re going to have to understand our Neanderthal instincts, and forgive us for it. It’s hardwired into our DNA to want to protect you.”

  Some of Grace’s anger dissolved with his attempt to make things better. “You can’t tell Sarge you caught me leaving.”

  Van put his arm around Grace’s waist and pulled her close. “I’ll make a deal with you—you tell me where you were going, and I’ll consider not telling Sarge about your attempted escape.”

  Grace didn’t answer for a long time. She really didn’t want Sarge to know she was going to leave again. She had a sense that it would hurt him if he found out she was defying him outright. She didn’t want that. But ultimately, she was an adult and could do whatever she wanted. She shouldn’t have to answer to anyone about her behavior. All of them had to come to accept that sooner or later.

  “No. Sorry, Van, my business, not yours.”

  Van sighed and shook his head. “You don’t trust men very much do you?” />
  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Grace left that question dangling in the air, unanswered.

  “From what I’ve heard about your dad, he seems like a great guy. So, it can’t be daddy issues. That leaves boyfriend issues?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend. And why does a woman have to have issues just because she doesn’t blindly trust someone she’s only known for a week to make decisions for her?”

  “So…you’re gay?” Van said, chuckling.

  “Great, a comedian.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m just pulling your chain. I get it. You’re not into the old double standard being applied here. Men don’t have to answer to anybody, and it seems like you do.”

  “Yep, that’s about the gist of it.”

  Van nodded. “Okay. I’ll respect your right to have your own point of view and make your own decisions. It’s a free country.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “At least for now.”

  She smiled back at him. “Thanks, Van.” She perused his wickedly charming face and green eyes that danced with playfulness, and she felt the flutter in her stomach again.

  Grace leaned into Van, until they were shoulder to shoulder, and rested her head against him. He moved the hand that had been around her waist and began rubbing her back underneath her T-shirt.

  “Have you slept with Sarge? ’Cause I kind of felt something between the two of you.”

  Grace closed her eyes and enjoyed his hand brushing over her skin. She paused, looking for the right words and wondering if his caresses would stop once she uttered them.

  “Yes, we’ve slept together. But we’re not together. It was—casual. And I’ve made it very clear to him, like I’m doing with you right now. I’m not looking for a relationship.” She turned to look him in the eye. “With any of you. If I want to have sex, I do it with who I please, when I please. Got it?”