BlowingitOff

by Lexxie Couper

  Will watched her go, his cock stirring. She was beautiful and elegant and sensual, a creature of evocative creativity and sexuality completely at ease with her body. He remembered the day she’d told them about posing naked for a life-drawing class while at art school. At the time, a year or so before their weekend fling, they’d all been just friends, but even then he’d experienced an unsettling knot of jealousy that someone else had been granted the sight of her undressed form. He should have suspected then his feelings for her were more than platonic.

  She crossed to a whitewashed closet standing at a right angle to her bed, her glorious backside—still branded with the faint pink outline of his palm—bunching and flexing with each step. “How ’bout I treat you both to an early dinner at the café down the road,” she tossed at them over her shoulder as she opened the closet and withdrew a black bra from the top drawer. “And you can tell me what you found out about my fire.”

  Will swallowed, turning his attention back to his partner. Neither of them were prepared yet to tell Phoebe the situation with her burnt-out studio, on a professional or personal level. How did one tell a friend, a lover, that someone had deliberately set fire to her belongings? Both he and Damon had informed more than one property owner they’d been the victim of arson. Both had seen the devastating impact of that information. Grief. Disbelief. Fear. He wanted to protect Phoebe from that as long as he could, and judging by the sudden tension in Damon’s body, so did his friend, but still…it was her studio. She had a right to know. Just not…yet.

  Are you being selfish, Will? Because you know the second you tell her any thoughts of fucking go right out the window?

  He bit back a sigh. Was he?

  Damon gave him a guarded look. “Or we could buy you dinner,” Damon countered, “and tell you all about what we plan to do to you when we get you back here after we eat. And those details have nothing to do with food.”

  Phoebe laughed, the sound muffled as she pulled a teal-green T-shirt over her head. “Anyone would think you have a one-track mind, Damon Hunt.”

  Will let out another tight breath. He didn’t think they’d dodged the fire bullet yet, but it would do for the moment.

  Damon chuckled, sidling up to Phoebe in a few steps to capture her breasts with his hands before she could fully cover her torso with her shirt. “I do, babe. All I think about is you.”

  It was meant to make her laugh. But the truth behind Damon’s words was louder than a scream. And Phoebe tensed.

  She turned in Damon’s embrace, placing her hand on his chest and giving him a slight push, enough to separate their upper bodies. “This is just a fuck-fest, Damon. This isn’t a happy-ever-after. Remember that.”

  “Why can’t it be, Pheebs?”

  The question left Will before he’d even realized it had formed in his mind. She tensed further, her blue eyes steady as she looked at him. “In what universe do you know of a happy-ever-after involving three people, William?”

  “In ours,” Damon answered, his jaw clenched. “I don’t give a fuck about what the rest of the world thinks. Neither does Will.”

  Phoebe’s jaw bunched. “Well I do.”

  “Bullshit,” Damon ground out. Will’s gut rolled at the simmering anger in his friend’s response. “You’re an artist, Masters. You don’t care what the real world is about. You exist for the senses, and your senses tell you all you want to do is fuck us both until our dicks drop off.”

  Phoebe’s eyes glinted with dark contempt. “Oh, such the wordsmith, Damon Hunt.”

  He flashed her a hard grin. “I’m a man of truth.”

  “And the truth is the last time we even hinted at having this discussion you were the one who balked at a happy-ménage-ever-after.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had some time to think about it. Six months in fact.”

  “So have I,” she shot back. “And I’ve realized you were right. Now let me go.”

  Phoebe pushed harder at Damon’s chest and Will’s stomach rolled again, but this time it had nothing to do with Damon’s emotional state and everything to do with Phoebe’s. They were losing her again.

  Damon shook his head. “No.”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no. I won’t let you go.”

  She glared at him, then at Will. “What are you going to do? Fuck me into saying yes?”

  Damon’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Sounds good to me. Will?”

  Will stared at them both. At the half-dressed woman he loved with all his heart, at the man he’d walk into a fire to save. What should he say here? What the fuck should he say?

  He drew in a steady breath. “Sounds like the perfect plan, Stretch.”

  Chapter Six

  Phoebe stared at them, dumbstruck. Her heart choked her, thumping like an insane rabbit in her throat. Her pussy contracted, the sheer hunger in Will’s eyes almost making her come there and then. Oh God, what should she do?

  Run.

  The thoroughly gutless thought made her snort out a hollow laugh. Run. Yeah, right. They’d bring her down like a fleeing antelope. Bam, two crash-tackles and she’d be on the floor, pinned helpless beneath them.

  Her pussy constricted again.

  Oh God, yes. Run. Run. Knee Damon in the nuts and run. Now.

  She bit her bottom lip. No matter how she looked at it, Damon and Will were going to make love to her again—and she wanted them to. Despite the furious contempt for her lack of self-control, she wanted them to throw her to the bed and make love to her again. Not just make love to her—mark her as theirs totally and completely. Fuck her so totally their scent would linger forever on her skin.

  She wanted them in her cunt, her arse, her mouth. She wanted their come on her face, her breasts. She wanted it in her anus. She wanted it leaking from her pussy.

  She wanted them. Dominating her. Possessing her.

  She wanted them. Making her whole. Making her moan.

  Making her laugh. Making her mad.

  Making her feel complete.

  Alive.

  She wanted it all. As she had six months ago. And it seemed they wanted that as well.

  So what are you waiting for? Why are you scared? Why are you resisting?

  Because Damon was right—she was an artist. She could exist in a loopy version of what society demanded was acceptable, but Will and Damon were arson investigators. Serious jobs held by serious grown-ups who didn’t buck society’s rules. They sort out the wrong, not live it.

  And being utterly, blissfully happy is wrong?

  It was if it lost them their jobs. Could she live with that? Could they?

  She knew about the close-knit firefighting community. Sami’s dad had spoken of it often. She’d bet her last dollar if it became known Damon and Will—two of the State’s best investigators, let alone Newcastle’s—were living in an unorthodox relationship with one woman, their rapid ascent through the NSW firefighting organization would screech to a halt. She didn’t want to be responsible for that.

  Which brought her back to here. Desperately turned-on. Wanting both their bodies, wanting both of them. Wanting the impossible fantasy.

  One last fuck-fest, Masters. Just one. And then it’s over.

  Her throat grew tight as she stared at them both. No. She was fooling herself. If she let them touch her again, she was a goner, lost to that impossible, unobtainable fantasy and the devastation of its reality.

  She shook her head, squirming her way out of Damon’s firm embrace. Taking a step back, she shook her head again. More emphatically this time. “No. We’re not doing this. I was wrong. Just tell me about the fire and then leave. Please.”

  Neither answered her. Damon’s gaze pinned her to the spot, his hands slowly working at the button of his fly. She swallowed, the sight both terrifying and exciting. She had no trouble remembering what Damon Hunt looked like under the jeans and polo shirts he favored. No trouble at all. Gorgeous, sexy and way too virile.

>   She jerked her attention to Will and bit back a whimper. Will was already naked, his tall, lean body making her mouth water. He was corded steel and latent strength. Before she could stop herself she was looking at his cock, the organ a thick rod of sexual perfection. Beads of pre-come anointed its tip and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Damn it, she wanted to…

  Her pussy tingled. Her nipples grew hard. She hitched in a breath and pressed her thighs together.

  Damon hissed in a breath. “I saw that, Masters. You want us as much as we want you.”

  She closed her eyes and drove her nails into her palms, fighting for the strength to tell him to bugger off.

  And felt a warm, hard body press up against hers. A gentle contact that sent her pulse racing. “You will say yes, Masters,” Damon whispered in her ear, his lips soft on her skin.

  “You’ll say forever,” Will murmured in her other ear, before strong arms slid under her legs and around her back and lifted her from the floor.

  A trembling cry escaped her parted lips. She opened her eyes to find Will cradling her close to his naked chest. “Forever,” he repeated.

  She began to shake her head, a feeble attempt to be sure, but stopped when he threw her on the bed. Just like that.

  He swiftly covered her body with his, sliding up her length until his cock nudged at her folds. His mouth took hers, hard and fast, as if he were worried she was going to protest again. His tongue plunged past her lips, mating with hers with fierce hunger. His right hand raked up her rib cage, fondling her breast. She arched beneath him, wrapping a leg around his thigh and pushing her pussy against his insistent cock.

  “I want some of that, Tiny.”

  Phoebe’s head swam at the hoarse urgency in Damon’s voice. She felt the mattress shift and then he was stretched out beside her, his long body, now devoid of clothes, a warm pressure on her side. Will lifted his head and Damon turned her face to his, claiming her lips in a kiss just as savage as Will’s.

  She whimpered into his mouth, her sex throbbing, her clit a prickling nub of impatient heat.

  As Damon worshipped her mouth, Will worked his way down her body, his lips searing a path over her throat, her collarbones, her breasts. He lingered at each, sucking licking, biting, until she squirmed and writhed and drove her nails into the knotted muscles of his shoulders. She wanted to cry out, to beg him to stop, to go lower, lower damn it, but Damon’s lips owned hers and all she could do was moan and scratch at Will’s shoulders.

  “Gonna eat you out now, Pheebs,” Will said against her belly, his hands slipping between her legs to spread them wider. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? I remember how much you love being fucked by our mouths.”

  She moaned again, the swirl of tension building in the pit of her belly growing denser at his word. Was that what she wanted?

  Yes, that’s what she wanted.

  Damon sucked her tongue, his hand squeezing her breast. He pinched her nipple and she bucked, the action pushing her mons to Will’s lowering head.

  “Jesus, you smell like sin,” Will’s voice was breathless, “and you’re so wet.”

  He touched a finger to her clit and she bucked again. Then he swiped at her folds with his tongue.

  A shudder racked her. Instant and powerful.

  “Smell like sin, taste like heaven,” Will said, the words muffled by her pussy. He stabbed his tongue inside her, dragging its tip from her perineum to her clit.

  Oh God oh God.

  She drove her heels into the bed, shoving her hips upward.

  Finally Damon broke his searing possession of her lips. He dragged his mouth down her throat to capture one nipple, biting its puckered point with ungentle force. Pain speared into her core, so sweet and exquisite she cried out. “Again,” she begged. “Again.”

  He did as she begged, his teeth closing on her nipple at the exact moment Will’s teeth caught her clit.

  Another shudder rocked her, far more powerful than the first. Far deeper and more carnal.

  She was close. So close.

  The two men continued to worship her body. Will lapped and sucked at her folds, tormented her clit, teased it with his tongue. Damon did the same to her breasts, first one then the other. She gasped and grabbed at the duvet, eyes rolling back, head tossing from side to side. Just when she thought she could take no more, that with one more swipe of Will’s tongue or one more nip of Damon’s teeth she’d shatter, both men rose from her.

  “No,” she protested, straining for them, reaching for them. “No, please, I want—”

  “Shush, Masters.”

  Damon’s chuckled rebuke had barely registered in her pleasure-fogged brain before Will rolled onto his back, taking her with him until she lay atop his length.

  Her heart beat faster. And faster still when Damon moved behind her, his hands stroking over her arse cheeks. “Fuck me, you really are wet, aren’t you?”

  He slid one finger into her slit, wriggled it deeper.

  “Oh Lord,” she choked out, pushing her backside into Damon’s hands.

  Will nuzzled at the base of her throat, his cock pressing at her clit. “Do you have lube, Pheebs?”

  Her heart didn’t beat faster—it jumped into hyper-drive. They were going to…both of them… She nodded, incapable of finding her voice. It was somewhere, lost in the constricting tension welling through her.

  With a mindless wave of her arm, she indicated the squat chest of drawers beside the bed.

  The bed dipped and bounced as Damon climbed off it, only to dip again when he returned seconds later. She heard him chuckle. “Ice Lube. Not a fucking hope in hell it’s going to cool this fire.”

  Will laughed, his smiling eyes holding Phoebe’s gaze. “Funny bugger, isn’t he.”

  She couldn’t answer, her voice still MIA.

  A slight frown pulled at his forehead. “Are you…do you…”

  He didn’t finish, and it was the sudden worry on his face that gave Phoebe back the ability to form words. She tangled her fingers in his hair. “I want you both inside me, William. Now.”

  The words fell from her in a raspy pant. But it was enough.

  Will’s nostrils flared, the frown replaced by a smoldering desire so undeniable her pussy squeezed tight. “Okay.”

  He slipped one hand between their bellies, his fingers parting her sodden folds, and then drove his cock inside her.

  She arched her spine into the penetration, head thrown back. Damon’s hand gripped her hips and he pushed her farther down onto Will’s dick, impaling her completely.

  “So tight, so tight,” Will groaned, gazing up at her. He pumped up once, twice, three times.

  She hissed in a breath, grinding down into his thrusts. He stretched her wide, so wide. Filled her so totally.

  “I could watch your dick in her cunt all day, Will,” Damon said behind her, “if I didn’t want to do this more.” Fingers played at her arse and, with a not-so-gentle tug, he pulled her cheeks apart and laved his tongue over her anus.

  “Oh oh oh yessss!” She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her jaw. Ribbons of concentrated pleasure unfurled through her core, threading together until the pit of her belly was a knotted ball of exquisite tension.

  Will cupped one breast, kneading it with growing force as he pumped up into her. Damon lashed her puckered hole with his tongue, pushing at the ring of muscle, tormenting her. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t—

  Damon’s tongue left her arse. Cool, thick moisture on her entry replaced it, painted there with impatient fingers, and then Phoebe felt something else. Something solid and warm and hard.

  Oh yes, yes.

  “Take a breath for me, hon,” Will murmured, the hand on her breast stilling for a moment.

  She stared down into his face and did as he asked.

  Without a word, Damon penetrated her. One long, slow, driving thrust that stretched her arse, set it on fire with stinging pain and excruciating pleasure.

  She groaned into it, l
etting the heat roll over her, through her. Her pulse thumped in her throat, her blood roared in her ears. They were both inside her.

  And then they both started moving. Will thrust up as Damon withdrew, Damon plunged deep as Will pulled back. “Fuck, I can feel your cock inside her, Will.” Damon’s fingers dug into her hips. “Fuck, oh fuck…” His exclamation turned to a drawn-out groan.

  “So right,” Will ground out through clenched teeth, gazing up at her. “So right—so right, Pheebs.”

  Phoebe closed her eyes. He was correct. This was right. If it wasn’t, nothing made sense in her world anymore.

  She rode them both, her nerve-endings singed, her breaths shallow. Her breasts swung with their motion, heavy and swollen with need. Will captured one with his hand just as Damon leaned forward and claimed the other. They fucked her in perfect, beautiful unison, drove her higher, higher, higher.

  Damon’s lips scored her back with desperate kisses, Will’s lips uttered wordless supplications.

  She took them both deeper, deeper, their moans and gasps echoing hers.

  “I’m gonna…” Damon’s fingers drilled into her hips. “Ah Christ, Phoebe, I’m gonna come.”

  His cock swelled in her arse. She fisted her hands in the duvet, her own climax rushing toward her with such intensity she was petrified.

  “Fuck, I’m—”

  She came. The very moment Damon roared out his release, pumping his seed into her arse, Phoebe crashed over into hers. And as she fell, she felt Will plunge with her, his cock buried deep within her sex.

  Until all three lay spent on the bed together.

  “We love you, Masters,” Damon mumbled against her back. “Move in with us. Please?”

  The proposal—for that’s what it was, he had no doubt—popped out of Damon’s subconscious and straight past his lips. He felt the words on his tongue and, even as those words were forming, knew he’d never wanted something as much.

  Him and Phoebe and Will, living together.

  Beneath him, a calm stillness claimed Phoebe.

  Under her, Will stared up at him, stunned disbelief—and undeniable hope—shimmering in his eyes.