by Alysha Ellis
The tension stretched three ways. Hamish’s kiss. Her desire. And Jackson’s unnerving focus.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Now was not the time to think about it. She wasn’t going to do anything. Jackson and Hamish were a couple. How could she disrupt their relationship for the sake of a brief fling?
There was only one right course of action. She had to leave before her presence did any more harm. Tomorrow. She’d head back to the city and forget all about Hamish and Jackson and this ill-advised adventure. The fog of tiredness grew too heavy and she slept.
* * * *
She woke some time past midday to find the house empty. She packed her bag and loaded the car, then set off to find either of the two men to say goodbye.
She looked around the home paddock but saw no sign of them, so she headed for the stable.
The interior was dark, broken here and there by bright shafts of light that etched clear-cut lines on the clean concrete. The mare and foal stood together in one stall. From somewhere further along, she heard the low murmur of male voices.
Sophie moved inside, blinking, trying to recover from the dark-induced blindness.
An arm reached out and pulled her close. “Looking for someone?” Hamish’s warm breath tickled her ear.
“I just came to say goodbye,” she said, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded, pumping blood throughout her body, bringing it alive.
“Not yet.” His arms tightened. “Mmm. You smell good.”
Her knees trembled and she clutched Hamish’s forearm, holding herself upright. He began to nibble his way from her ear, along the line of her chin to her mouth, she sighed. Once more he took advantage of the opening to sweep his tongue inside.
The tension rocketed, moisture flooding her, desire sending her brain into meltdown.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” he whispered. “Let me.”
Sense, reason and caution fled, leaving only need. “Yes.”
He shrugged out of his shirt then spread it down on the layer of fresh hay in an empty stall. Then he eased her down, his lips constantly seeking hers, taking sharp bites of her lower lip, licking his way inside. The man could have won prizes for his kissing skills alone.
Her skin was hot and tight, her clothing an unbearable confinement. She helped him tear it from her, not caring where it landed. Soon she was naked, the tiny scratches of hay on bare skin an aphrodisiac rather than a distraction. She couldn’t wait, could barely stand to have Hamish leave her for the few seconds it took him to reach into his jeans and find a condom.
He crawled over her, kissing his way up her belly, pausing to use his tongue and lips to suckle each of her nipples in turn. Then, in one forceful thrust he seated himself fully. There was no finesse, no subtlety just a hard, driving joining. And she wanted it—needed this wild pleasure.
She closed her eyes and arched upwards, taking him deeper, matching his thrusts, every stroke taking her closer and closer to the surging release of orgasm.
Like a stallion with a mare, Hamish fastened his teeth on the cords of her neck. The stinging pain detonated the explosion and the walls of her vagina contacted over and over again. Hamish stiffened and drove hard into her. She felt the pulsing release of his cock then he slumped down, his forehead on the straw beside her.
At last, the daze caused by one of best and fastest orgasms she ever had cleared. She opened her eyes.
And gasped. The blood that just seconds ago had hurtled through her veins froze.
Jackson stood above them, his feet planted next to their heads, his gaze fixed on the two of them, twined, sweaty and replete on the straw.
Twin spots of red burned on his cheeks. His mouth was slightly open. His heavy eyelids were half-shut, obscuring his expression, but his chest heaved, the air rushing audibly in and out of his mouth.
Sophie swallowed. She felt sick. How much must seeing them together have hurt Jackson? He loved Hamish and to come across him like this… She should have thought. Shouldn’t have let her passion destroy her sense. Her decency. How could she have been so stupid? She’d heard voices just before Hamish had touched her. She should have realised that Jackson was there. Hamish should have…
But that couldn’t be right. She had heard their voices. Hamish must have known Jackson was there if he was talking to him.
Before she could make any sense of it, Hamish rolled over, blithely naked, his cock only half-flaccid and surprisingly rising again as he removed the condom. “Did you enjoy it?”
He wasn’t talking to Sophie. There was no need to ask her. No one could have been in any doubt of her enthusiastic participation. No. This question was directed solely at Jackson. She was so puzzled and intrigued by what was going on, she didn’t care that she was lying there, naked, her legs still spread, her stomach and breasts still flushed with the after effects of love making.
Jackson licked his lips. “You know I did.” His voice was dry and rusty. His hand was spread, palm open across the front of his jeans. Pressed hard against a solid bulge.
Only then did Sophie understand. He wasn’t angry. He was aroused.
“You want this, don’t you,” Hamish murmured, rising to his knees. “You love what we have, love me, but you miss the soft sexiness of a woman, miss the smell, the taste, the little noises.” He sounded hypnotic and alluring.
While he talked he used his fingers, stroking Sophie’s clit, building her arousal all over again. Jackson’s gaze followed every movement of Hamish’s hand. Sophie was hot, her skin so sensitive she could feel the weight of Jackson’s gaze on her. Without her conscious volition, her legs opened a little wider.
“That’s it, darling. Show him what he’s missing. What he could have.”
Jackson’s swallowed.
“Would you let Jackson share in your delights, Sophie? Would you let him inside you, let him fuck you? And let me? Let us have you—both of us? Together?”
The touch of his hand and the cadence of his voice made her arch upwards.
A stifled sound burst from Jackson’s throat and she turned her head languidly. Did she want Jackson? He was dark, compelling and still mysterious. What would it feel like to shatter his control, to take him inside her and by her submission to his need, place him in her power? She shivered. She wanted it. To be the object of their desire, the focus of their sexual needs.
She held out her arms. This time Jackson’s groan was clearly audible. With jerky movements he undid his belt, wrenched the studs open, shoved the denim aside. If she thought Hamish had been sudden this was desperation, too fierce and needy for niceties like removing boots or completely undressing.
He dropped to his knees, straddled her hips, drove his cock deep. His lips were flattened in a thin line, his face a mask of concentration.
His thrusts were hard, fast, grinding against her pelvis.
Sex had usually been fun, but civilised, almost stylised, but this was urgent, desperate and she wanted more.
She thrashed her head from side to side, searching for something. She didn’t know what until Hamish slid on his knees beside her, his cock rigid, tip purple and swollen. She reached out and wrapped her fist around it, drawing its thick heat into her mouth, sucking and licking, savouring Hamish’s rich, salt-sweet flavour.
Hamish took over, thrusting feverishly, fucking her mouth, and she let herself drown in sensation. Jackson rode her hard, slamming her butt against the straw-covered floor, Hamish’s cock sliding up and down in her spit-lubricated fist.
The spiral of passion wound tight and exploded and she screamed as she came. Hamish took advantage of her wide-open mouth to go deeper. Hot spurts of cum splashed into her throat and she swallowed convulsively. Hamish groaned and shuddered.
Jackson rammed home once more. He arched his back and held himself deep inside her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t remember if he wore a condom, only felt the hard pulsing of his penis.
When it stopped he pushed himself to his knees. His eyes were dark
, and in the dim light of the stable she couldn’t read his expression. She did see him reach down and discard the condom she’d never seen him put on.
“I’m sorry.” Jackson’s voice was gravelly, rough with some emotion Sophie couldn’t fathom. Was he afraid he’d been too rough? Or was he sorry the sex had happened at all? Before she had a chance to reply, Hamish spoke.
“I won’t let you be sorry. I wanted you to have this. You needed it.” He pushed himself backwards, up onto a bale of hay, then reached out and took Jackson’s hand, drawing him up with him. Still naked, Hamish pulled Jackson in until he was held between his thighs. He reached his arm behind Jackson’s head, raised one leg to wrap around his hips, tilted his head and kissed him.
Jackson grasped his thigh, lifting it, holding Hamish tight.
Sophie pushed herself into a sitting position. She was sex-sated, sore from the rubbing friction of hair-roughened thighs, but as the two men locked lips and sank into each other, arousal made her pussy twitch with renewed desire and her hand slid down to cup her clit and still moist lower lips. A whimper escaped her. Hamish leant back and turned towards her.
“Sorry.” Jackson repeated his earlier apology. But this time he went on. “I…we… You don’t need to see this. Not now.”
“Don’t stop on account of me.” Sophie swallowed. “I haven’t… That is… I’ve never seen two men doing…” She nodded towards them. “Doing that before. It’s hot.” Her face burned with embarrassment. She probably shouldn’t have said that. It made her sound kinky, but God, it was hot. So, so damn hot.
“I knew we needed you from the moment I saw you,” Hamish said, then he unbuttoned Jackson’s shirt then pushed his jeans down. “Get undressed, babe. We’re all gonna have some fun.”
When Jackson’s pants hit the ground and he’d kicked off his boots and socks, Hamish dropped to his knees, opened his mouth and took Jackson’s cock inside. The harsh rasp of Jackson’s breath sent delicious shivers spiralling down to the base of Sophie’s spine. Hamish wrapped his hands around Jackson’s buttocks, circling his arse and teasing the pucker, and Sophie’s shivers became a potent, heated throb. She couldn’t prevent the gasp that rushed from her open mouth. Jackson put his hands on Hamish’s head and flicked a panicky glance in Sophie’s direction. Surely he wouldn’t stop? Not now.
She licked her lips, trying to moisten them enough to speak. “Please,” she whispered. “Do it.”
Jackson closed his eyes and gave himself up to Hamish’s mouth and fingers. His hard face softened and his mouth drew back into a smile of pleasure so intense it looked almost like pain.
Without being fully aware she did it, Sophie shuffled closer. Close enough to smell the earthy scent of hot male, of aftershave and cum and sex. She worked her hand harder and faster as she watched.
Hamish sucked and squeezed. He drew Jackson in deep. His Adam’s apple jerked and Jackson moaned. Then Hamish lifted his head, letting Jackson’s penis slide out of his mouth with a wet pop.
“You like it when I deepthroat, don’t you, baby?” He blew on the swollen, purple length then laughed softly. “You like that too.”
Then he opened his mouth and slipped it around Jackson once more. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked. Jackson gave another guttural moan.
Sophie could see his balls contract and he arched his back, thrusting his cock harder into Hamish’s clever mouth.
Hamish suddenly reached out one hand, snagged Sophie and dragged her in her beside him. Wrapping the other hand around the base of Jackson’s penis, he once more withdrew his mouth. He pumped his fist once, twice, and Jackson exploded, dousing Sophie and Hamish in thick, creamy ropes of cum.
It was dirty and sexy and she collapsed into another quaking orgasm.
Jackson’s hand, broad and hard and rough with work, settled on Sophie’s head, then slid down to brush away the evidence of his excitement, his touch light. Hamish still held her close, their heads side by side with Hamish’s, pressed against the hard muscles of Jackson’s groin.
“We need to get dressed,” Hamish said. “Go inside. Talk. We have some decisions to make.”
Jackson instantly straightened and stepped away, his lips flattened back into a grim line, narrow white furrows creasing his brow. “You two go in. I’ll see to the horses.”
“Oh no,” Hamish said. “You’re part of this.”
“This?” Sophie asked. “What exactly is this?”
“You’d better ask Hamish,” Jackson said, putting on his clothes. “He planned it.”
Sophie’s stomach churned. She thought what had happened here had been spontaneous. Crazy. Irresponsible. An explosion of sexual attraction and a kind of holiday madness. For her, a brief respite from the worries that had plagued her life. For Hamish, a fling to satisfy his dual sexuality.
She looked from one man to the other, reading the tension between them in Jackson’s distant stare and Hamish’s stiff shoulders.
“Hamish? What’s he talking about?”
“Come inside. Get cleaned up. Then we’ll talk.” Hamish passed over her clothes that he’d been gathering up as they talked.
“This was a plan? Am I part of some game between you?”
“Yes. No. It’s not what either of you think.” Hamish ran his hands through his hair. “Please. Come inside and we’ll talk.”
Sophie snatched up the clothes and struggled into them. As soon as she’d slipped on her shoes she marched out the door. Her car stood, packed and ready to go, and she veered towards it. Damn them both. If they had used her, she wanted nothing more to do with them. She should have stuck with her original intention and put this place far behind her. Put it on the market. Never return.
“Sophie. No.” Hamish half hopped, half ran up behind her, still pulling on one boot. “Let me explain. Please. Don’t go.”
He reached out to take her hand. She wanted to snatch it away, wanted to get in the car, but her traitorous body refused to obey her. The warm clasp of his fingers melted her resistance and she allowed him to lead her back into the house. Jackson walked, silent and brooding on her other side.
“Go wash up,” Hamish said. “Jackson and I will meet you in the kitchen.”
She nodded. They needed to talk but she needed to regain some control. She hurried to the bathroom.
Chapter Three
As she approached the kitchen she heard the hum of their voices. Hamish and Jackson were sitting on opposite sides of the table, holding coffee cups. There was a third cup waiting for her. They stopped speaking as soon as she entered. If there had been any disharmony, they seemed to have healed their differences while she showered.
She sat, picked up the mug then took a sip. She wasn’t going to speak. Hamish was the one who had explaining to do.
But it was Jackson who spoke first, surprising her. “I love Hamish. We’re partners in life and in the business. I want to make that clear.”
“And I love Jackson,” Hamish added.
That didn’t surprise Sophie, but it didn’t come close to answering her questions either. She remained silent. This was their story to tell.
“You have to believe that,” Hamish continued. “Because it’s vital.” He blew out a gust of breath. “We love it each other but…” He paused as if he couldn’t find the words.
“It should be enough,” Jackson said. “But it’s not.”
Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. The words Jackson said were cutting. She experienced a rush of sympathetic pain for Hamish. But when she looked at him, instead of appearing hurt, a small smile played around his mouth.
“We need more. Jackson has tried to deny it. He always says he’s fine if I bring it up, but I know. We do love each other but we’re not complete. Both of us need a woman.”
“And that’s where I come in?” Sophie surged to her feet. All the empathy she’d felt for them fled. Rage sizzled at the edges of her mind. “I turn up and you think, great. A woman. Let’s both fuck her then we can send her on her wa
y and that should hold us for another… How long does it take before you have to do this? Once a year? Every six months? Is it just good luck that I happened to stumble into your clutches like the biggest fool alive?”
“No!” Both men spoke at once.
“It wasn’t like that!” Jackson added.
“I wanted you the instant I saw you,” Hamish said. “Not just anyone, you. And I knew Jackson was attracted to you too. Far from wanting to use you, he wanted to run. He did his best to avoid you. Because he doesn’t want to hurt me. “
Hamish stood then paced around the room. “I’ve never met any woman who I felt so strongly about so soon, and I knew Jackson hadn’t. We needed you, Sophie, and yes, I have to admit, I manipulated that scene in the barn. I knew you’d come down to see the foal. I wanted it to happen but I knew I had to find a way to get Jackson there, to breakdown his reluctance. He needed you, I needed you. We need you.”
“Why? It was just one afternoon of sex. It was unbelievable, but if you don’t let it, it won’t harm your relationship. It’s over.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Not if we don’t want it to end.”
Sophie shook her head. “Forty-eight hours ago I didn’t know you two existed.” Her chest tightened in panic. What did she really know about the two men? “You can’t stop me if I want to leave.”
Hamish glanced at her, his face sober. “If you want to leave, we wouldn’t try to stop you. We want you to want to stay. With us. You came here prepared to spend a couple of weeks. There is no need to rush back. You know the sex is good. Can we just enjoy that and see where it takes us?”
If she was sensible, she’d run to her car, drive away and never look back. Sense, apparently, was no longer one of her strengths because she was very tempted by his offer. The sex had been far, far better than merely good. But Hamish wasn’t the only resident of the house. Jackson sat at the table, his hands wrapped around the coffee mug, knuckles white. He hadn’t seconded Hamish’s idea.
