Sierra Cartwright - Hawkeye 01 - Danger Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

He gave that boyish grin that did funny things to Stone’s insides.

  Then Davidson added, “You can spank my ass anytime. You can even fuck me or ask me to suck you off. I’m not into cutting off my nose to spite my face.”

  “And playing with Fagan? We’ve never added a third.”

  “I like Kayla. Having a third changes the dynamics, and I’m cool with that. I want her to say yes to us. Who knows? Maybe she and I can continue to play when you vanish like you always do.”

  Stone’s right hand curved into a fist. He hadn’t realized he was doing it until the tension radiated up to the healing wound in his arm. Fagan and Davidson playing without him? Forming a bond that left him out?

  Grabbing the water bottle, Davidson uncapped it and asked, “But what about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Doesn’t it get lonely out here all by yourself?”

  “I’m hardly ever here.”

  “You have a place in paradise you only use between assignments. And you only take time off when you’re forced to.” He drained the bottle and crushed the plastic in his hand. “Seems a shame. If I had a place like this, I’d like to be here a lot. I’d like having someone in the kitchen making a mess. I’d like someone to watch the sun go down over the Continental Divide, and I’d like someone who dropped their pants for a good whipping every now and then. But hey, that’s just me.”

  Stone watched him go.

  He hadn’t spent much time evaluating his life. He went to work. He ate. He crashed wherever there was an available bed. Then he’d get up and repeat the process.

  Part of him had regretted letting Davidson walk away last year. But they’d both had important missions, and neither had been willing to compromise. Davidson had left because Stone wouldn’t ask him to stay. Stone readjusted the thin strip of leather holding his hair back. As for him, the idea of someone leaving after he’d opened his heart and fallen in love was just too big of a stinking risk. Fool him once…

  He told himself that didn’t make him a coward.

  If he were being honest, though, he’d admit the last year had been the longest, the loneliest of his life.

  He wiped down the playroom so it would be ready for the next session. He grinned in anticipation of who the next sub would be. Davidson again? Or would Fagan decide she wanted to be the one exposed and vulnerable?

  He turned off the light and headed upstairs, whistling.

  Stone took a left turn and checked his office. Nothing interesting on e-mail. And nothing unusual recorded on his surveillance equipment. All was quiet on the Western front.

  After uncapping a long-necked bottle of American brew, he headed for the great room.

  Davidson, looking pleased with himself, sat on the leather couch, sprawled out, his legs stretched toward the fire. Fagan was sitting on a rug in some sort of bizarre yoga pose. Didn’t a simple cross-legged thing work for anyone anymore?

  The two of them seemed to have nothing more important to do than stare at the flames.

  The weather had relented. Rain and wind no longer shook the house. It was peaceful and cozy.

  For a minute, maybe two, he allowed himself to contemplate what it might be like if he didn’t keep others at a distance, if he had someone to come home to at the end of a mission, or, trying not to be an alpha pig, if someone came home to him. What would it be like with someone to sit on the porch with? Or hike to the top of a mountain. Or just to talk?

  The unaccustomed, unwelcome thoughts made him restless. “Does it help?” he asked Fagan. “The yoga?” If it did, maybe he’d take it up.

  “Normally.”

  “Normally?” Davidson asked.

  “But not around you two. Until now, I hadn’t had many experiences that breathing and stretching couldn’t help.”

  “Told you we freaked her out,” Davidson said.

  She unfolded her legs. For a second, it reminded him of watching a butterfly unfurl its wings.

  Then his thought pattern returned.

  She was limber. That had to mean good things for their upcoming play.

  He took a seat in the oversized leather chair. He noticed they’d left the wingback chair vacant for him. “Ready for your spanking, Fagan?” He was ready. And this chair was a perfect place to introduce her to the pleasure of his pain. “Over my knee. Right here, right now.”

  “Yeah. About that…”

  “No?”

  “Well…” She stood in a lithe movement that captivated him, made him aware of her femininity.

  Men and women were built different, and he was a connoisseur of both. He took a long drink from the beer and waited. He noticed that Davidson seemed just as enraptured.

  He’d seen her half naked; now, he wanted to see her completely nude and surrendered to his domination.

  “I want to play.”

  He waited for the rest.

  “But, I’m not sure I want to experience the same type of intensity that you two seem to enjoy.”

  “We’ve played together for a long time,” Davidson said.

  She looked at him. “You have?”

  “Years,” Stone said.

  “Years,” Davidson confirmed. “And he built me up to this. You wouldn’t be expected to behave the way I have. He can be gentle. Well, not exactly gentle, but patient.”

  “That didn’t help.”

  Davidson grinned.

  “I’m not into causing undue pain,” Stone said. “And I have no interest in spanking someone who doesn’t want to be spanked. Everything here is safe, sane, and consensual.”

  “Sane?” she asked.

  “Depends on your definition of sane, I suppose.” He smiled. “Does Davidson over there look any worse for the wear?”

  She looked. She shook her head.

  “And you played earlier. Anything too edgy about that for you?”

  “It was…” She seemed to struggle for the right word. “Unimaginable.”

  “Are you any worse for the wear?”

  “I’m still horny.”

  Her soft-spoken admission made his cock hard. He waited.

  “I just don’t want it to be extreme.”

  “You want to stay in control while you’re out of control.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sounds ridiculous when you put it that way.” She laughed, a nervous little sound.

  “We’ll talk it out until you’re comfortable, or until you say absolutely not.”

  “It’s about power exchange,” Davidson said. “Don’t tell our big, bad Alpha, but we’re the ones always in control, always in charge.”

  “What?” She stood with her back to the fire.

  “Davidson was asked for a safe word,” Stone said.

  “Yellow.”

  “You will always choose a safe word. If you use the word, all activity will cease.”

  “Nothing will happen,” Davidson said, “unless you want it to. You can always say no. You can always walk away. And the Dom has to honor that. You can set the boundaries. You can negotiate the terms. And you can do it at any time.” He moved forward, to the edge of the couch. “Think back. When I ate your cunt…”

  Stone noticed that she blinked a couple of times. He was enjoying this interplay between his two subs. Davidson knew he was a sub, had accepted it, was comfortable with it, liked it. Fagan would find out soon enough. He was glad to be the one to initiate her.

  “…Stone was watching your every reaction. Being out of your comfort zone is okay. But freaking isn’t. He would have stopped. And when he was squeezing my balls, he was methodical, and he never stopped thinking about me, looking at me. It’s heady stuff, Kayla, being at the center of someone’s attention like that. Your pleasure is the only thing that matters.”

  Stone picked up his beer and took another drag. Entertaining as hell, this.

  “My pleasure is the only thing that matters?” Clearly, she was confused, and a little intrigued, if the glint in her green eyes was anything to judge by.

  “Who got off dow
nstairs?” Davidson asked.

  “You did,” she said.

  “And look at him, poor, unfortunate Stone is still sporting a hard-on.”

  Did he have to be so fucking cheery about it? “Thanks for pointing that out,” Stone said.

  “Make no mistake,” Davidson continued, “if you have any desire to submit or learn about submission, Stone is the Dom you want.”

  Stone leaned forward. “We’ll go slow. I’ll check in with you a lot. By watching you, I’ll know when you’re at your limit; I’ll take you right to the edge, maybe past a place you feel safe, but you’ll never be taken anywhere you don’t want to go.”

  “I…”

  He couldn’t help himself.

  Desire for this woman with her intense green eyes and untamed auburn hair drove him to distraction.

  Standing, he crossed to Fagan and closed his hands around her shoulders. He pulled her up until she stood facing him, her head tipped back to meet his gaze.

  Then he captured her head and kissed her long, hard, deep. Nothing punishing, nothing dominant, just an attracted turned-on male to attractive female.

  She tasted of merlot. A spicy, dry, rich, smooth fruity taste. She tasted of woman. And then…of surrender.

  His cock hardened even more, insistently, demandingly.

  She moved in closer; there was no doubt she could feel the effect she had on him. He wondered if she recognized her power.

  She swayed toward him, deepening the kiss. She took the role of the aggressor, and he let her lead.

  Her tongue went deep into his mouth. And he was suddenly commiserating with how desperate Davidson had been to orgasm.

  Eventually, she ended the kiss. “Oh. Hmm. Well.”

  “Just for the record,” he said, holding her close, one hand just above her rear, the other between her shoulder blades, “I want to have sex with you. Whether or not that happens is completely your call.”

  “Even if…?”

  “Even if I never spank your delectable ass.”

  “Even if…?”

  “Even if you don’t want to submit.”

  “I want to be in charge.”

  She wanted…? This was different, and a hell of a turn on. He pulled back on her hair, tipping her head so she looked him in the eye. “Lead on.”

  She wiggled against him. Then she feathered her hands into his hair. She wasn’t a short woman, but she had to stand on her tiptoes to drag him closer. Willingly, he went.

  She kissed him. She pushed against him, grinding her breasts into his chest even as he put his hand on her ass and pulled her against his erection.

  “Hey!”

  He was aware of Davidson, but hell, he’d had his fun.

  “I don’t leave you guys out.”

  She abruptly ended their kiss.

  When Stone got his hands on Davidson, the man would be volunteering for sentry duty since he wouldn’t be able to sit on his ass, anyway.

  “I think grumpy here needs some attention.”

  Stone presumed she was talking about him.

  “So do I,” Davidson said.

  “You’ve already been the center of attention,” she pointed out. She still hadn’t released her hold on him, and Stone was grateful. “And I want a cock to play with.”

  Well. Hell. The woman did know how to ask for what she wanted.

  “Whose?” Davidson asked.

  She looked back and forth between them. Stone was not finding this humorous. He liked being in charge. Of missions. Of sex.

  “Hmm…”

  He ground his back teeth together.

  “Both.”

  “Told you she’d make a great third,” Davidson said.

  Stone didn’t point out that he hadn’t used exactly those words.

  “Where do you want us, honey?”

  Honey? Davidson was calling her honey? Why the hell had he left the gags in the basement?

  “I want Wolf on the bottom so I can straddle him.”

  That got his interest.

  “And Nate, I can suck you.”

  “Have we gone through enough formalities that you can get naked now?” Stone asked politely.

  She scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been as polite as he’d thought. He should get points for trying, though.

  “Your bed,” she dictated.

  “Mine?”

  “I just changed the sheets on mine,” she said. “And since Davidson doesn’t get to spend the night --”

  “Hey!”

  “He doesn’t have a bed. Isn’t that what you said, Wolf?” she asked sweetly.

  Collaborators in crime. Maybe he should make both of them sleep outside. But he knew he wasn’t capable of that. He wanted them too damn bad to even make the threat. “My bed,” he agreed. “Not that Davidson hasn’t already taken over my bedroom.”

  His little wannabe Domme led the way to his room. Her butt wiggled as she walked. She was denim and cotton, and everything nice. Not a dominating bone in her little body. But he figured she’d coldcock him if he laughed at her. And he’d deserve it.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the place next to her. “Sit with me, Nate.”

  Davidson? She wanted Davidson to sit with her?

  “You,” she said, pointing at Stone, “strip.”

  He remembered that she did know how to shoot a gun.

  Stone had no problems being naked. In fact, he preferred not to wear clothes. But having two lustful subs hungrily watching every move… “This is a little disconcerting.”

  She laughed gleefully. Too gleefully, if you asked him.

  “I want to see your ass first. Turn your back to us.”

  He raised a brow, but did as she instructed. He dropped his jeans, and he was wearing nothing beneath.

  “Oh, my God. You have the tightest ass ever.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  “Do you have an impressive cock? Or am I going to have to pretend it’s big enough to satisfy me?”

  Bloodthirsty little wench.

  “Turn around,” she said.

  He did.

  His cock, totally hard and demanding release, jutted in front of him.

  “Come a little closer. And put your hands behind your head.”

  He’d do what she said, but, oh, the payback would be sweet.

  She closed her right hand around his cock and stroked him hard a couple of times. “Not bad.”

  “I’m glad I please you.”

  “You will.” She all but purred. Then she cupped his balls in her right hand.

  He swallowed hard.

  Right about now, he was regretting telling her how to successfully squeeze a man’s nuts, creating exquisite agony, but no damage.

  He glared when Davidson laughed.

  She pulled down a bit on his sack, getting his testicles exactly where she wanted them.

  “Easy.” But his cock swelled in her hand.

  “And then I can take them both in my palm, right?”

  Her hand trembled a little; his breathing was a little more shallow. He knew what he was doing when he handled another man’s testicles. She was an amateur. He’d talked of trust, though, and how it was a two-way street. He couldn’t very well tell her to take her hands off his jewels. “That…ohhh…”

  “You can take a little more,” she said.

  And he did.

  “Like you’re squeezing a rubber ball,” Davidson coached.

  Carefully, her motions very controlled, she squeezed.

  He sucked in another shallow breath.

  “Does that hurt?”

  He gasped. A bead of sweat trickled down his nape. But he kept his hands behind his neck.

  “Just a tiny bit more,” she said.

  He was going to come all over her hand.

  “Much as I want you to come,” she said, “I’d rather you fuck me.”

  “Release your grip slowly,” Davidson said. “Unless you want him on his knees, in that case, tug on him and then let him g
o.”

  Half a dozen threats sprang to mind. But threats were easy when your nuts were caught in a viselike grip by an amateur.

  She gently rubbed his nuts together, then slowly, slowly let him go. “You’re right,” she said. “It is about trust.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, we can experiment with your trust from now on.”

  “Nah,” she said. “I like having that kind of power over you.”

  He brought his hands down, and pulled her up off the bed. “Now you have two choices, Ms. Fagan. You can strip in under seven seconds. Or Davidson can strip you.”

  She looked at Davidson. “I kind of liked the power while it lasted.”

  Davidson sighed. “Never does with this brute. Get used to it.”

  “I guess, since you’ve wasted those seven seconds, that Davidson will be stripping you.”

  “Uh, I’ll get undressed.”

  “It wasn’t a question,” Stone said. “You were given a choice. You chose to screw around.”

  “I…” She looked up at him.

  Stone was done messing around. “Naked.” He released his grip. “Now.” She blinked, but he was unmoved. “Your eyes are beautiful, but batting them at me won’t work. You’ll have more luck with some other slob.” Over his shoulder, he said, “Davidson, get naked.”

  At least one of them was obedient.

  Davidson had his clothes off and folded neatly before she’d even pulled her shirt from her waistband.

  But since she was going to be slow about it, he decided to enjoy the view. He sat on his mattress, the place she’d vacated.

  She unbuttoned the shirt, shrugged the material from her shoulders, then dropped it on the floor.

  “Davidson, unhook her bra.”

  Davidson moved behind her and followed instructions.

  “Now,” Stone said, “let me see your breasts.”

  She dropped the bra.

  “Great breasts,” he said. They were smallish, but firm, with pouty nipples. He wanted to be inside her. Now. “Make your nipples harder.”

  She cupped her breasts in her palms and drew them together. Using her thumbs and forefingers, she squeezed on her nipples, pulled on them, rolled them around.

  Christ. This wasn’t one of his more brilliant ideas. His body was demanding release, not a sweet striptease. “Nice,” he said. “Now the jeans.” He was going to have to do a better job of controlling his reaction. His voice was as jagged as cut diamonds. And Davidson looked at him intently. He knew. He knew the effect Fagan was having on him.