by Eileen Green
JC licked his lips; obscene thoughts ran through Skye’s head. Brock cocked his eyebrow questionably at her, making him look even sexier.
“I am not afraid that you will hurt me, at least not like Billy Craven.” She bit the chocolate covered marshmallow away from the crunchy cookie and savored the sugary softness tangle with the bitterness of the dark chocolate. The two textures and flavors melted on her tongue and she had to wonder if having both men would be the same dynamic.
“It was Billy who hurt you?” JC asked rising nearly gracefully to his feet, his hands furling into fists. “I’ll kill him!”
Brock stood also, his hand reaching out to grasp JC’s arm. “No! That’ll do no good.”
“He’s still in prison,” Skye said softly. She shrugged. “At least that’s what I heard.”
JC stalked closer to her. Taking a step back, she found she couldn’t go anywhere. Brock was right behind him.
“We don’t intend to hurt you physically, or emotionally, baby girl. We want you.” JC was now right in front of her.
“Not just tonight, little one.” Brock stood next to his friend. They were just inches away from her. “We want to see where you’ll lead us. You’re our center, but there are rules.”
“Rules?” Skye swallowed hard. “What kind of rules?”
Her eyes took in both men, drinking in their yumminess. To hell with the food table behind her. Before her was a smorgasbord of manliness that was difficult to turn away from. Tight muscles filled out clothing that looked like it was going to be hard to remove, but worth the view.
Looking up and down the length of Brock’s body, she felt herself getting wetter. His eyes stared at her breasts. She didn’t have to follow his gaze to know that her nipples were hard and pressing against her bra.
Her eyes shifted over to JC. His magnificent body was worthy of all the women throwing themselves at him, but she had become jealous when the pair of panties was thrown at him. Skye wanted him to have her panties.
Wait? What?
Heat suffused her body at that thought.
Oh, I’ve got it bad for these two!
Skimming her eyes down his body, she stopped at the top of his leather pants that hung low at the top of his sexy hips. What Skye had thought was a belt, wasn’t.
A fucking whip? Rules? Really?
Her eyes flew up to meet his. Lust, acknowledgement, and pride mixed within the depths of his eyes. The smile on his face was so bright she thought she’d go blind. Sliding her eyes to the left, she found an identical expression on Brock’s face.
“What are the rules?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dual breaths were sucked in as both men took a hand. Gently, they led her over to the couch she had so recently vacated. They set her down in the middle, John sitting on her right and Brock on her left, their hands continuing to hold hers.
Silence prevailed for about half a minute and thoughts ran through her head like greyhounds chasing the mechanical rabbit. Brock kissed her shoulder while JC lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm.
A shiver ran through her as her pussy leaked. Why her body was responding to both men was beyond her. She was more surprised at her reaction to them than she was of their open verbal persistent pressure.
Privacy was something that Skye had treasured for so long, keeping herself hidden in her work. Trust wasn’t something she gave easily. Being abandoned as a child had a way of doing that to someone. It takes a chunk out of someone’s heart, emotions, and their soul.
Being overweight was something that took a lot of trust in others when it came to relationships. Was what they were telling her the truth? Did they really want her or were they just tallying up a fat chick in their notched belts? Would they fuck her in private and ignore her in public?
It was hard going through life constantly wondering what people were thinking of her. Spending time trying to look as if she were eating, or acting as if she wasn’t hungry in public. To ignore the insults that bit deep into the soul whether from a child who should be taught better, or from adults who should know better.
Of course, would the person she was with be ridiculed because they were with her? Always thinking more about the other person was her biggest concern. It was a part of her embedded deep within her psyche and she couldn’t make it stop.
Why would these fine specimens be wanting her? Did they realize that being associated with her could be career suicide?
“Skye!” The harshness in Brock’s voice brought her back to the present. She let her eyes meet his. “Whatever you were thinking needs to vacate your brain forever! We won’t stand for it.”
Chapter Six
JC conceded to Brock on that statement. He was after all his mentor besides being his best friend. They needed to get Skye into the proper state of mind and make her understand that she was a desirable, sexy woman.
“You can’t deny what I am!” she exclaimed. “I have been this way all my life. I try to lose weight, but it doesn’t work.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Brock said as JC let his fingers graze up and down her arm.
Tears shimmered in Skye’s eyes, which touched JC’s heart. He hated that she hurt because of what society deemed as being unacceptable. How many people that were a few pounds overweight or more by society’s standards lived the way she did?
Were they always inside their heads the way she was? Not trusting people, living in shunned reclusiveness?
Hundreds of years ago or more, women like Skye or even bigger were revered and held in high esteem as beautiful, normal women. Paintings were made of them to be shared with generations to come. Now, magazines and TV showed such shockingly thin women whose bones showed and looked sickly.
“You are a healthy woman that we both are interested in.” Brock spoke as he nuzzled her neck.
JC turned her head until she was looking at him. “You are never to refer to yourself as fat again. Understood?”
Disbelief wavered in her eyes that still shimmered with tears. She was going to be a hard sell, but perhaps they would be able to get herself out of her head in a BDSM session. It would be as beneficial to her as it was to him.
Oh, he looked forward to seeing her kneeling before him, willing and naked. And, he knew Brock did too.
“But…” she began.
JC placed a finger on her lips, shaking his head. “No. You will not argue about this. You are not fat. You are a healthy woman. You are our healthy woman.”
Her eyes flickered with surprise.
“And, we don’t take kindly to people criticizing our woman, including herself. Understood?” Brock asked.
JC had his hand at the nape of her neck, holding it so she couldn’t turn her head, but she nodded.
“Good.” JC said softly. “Now, do you know what BDSM is, Skye?”
Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Some,” she whispered.
JC shot a glance past her head to meet Brock’s eyes. Oh, they were both truly blessed in finding Skye. She was a gem and she was going to be theirs.
“We both live the lifestyle to the fullest.” JC said with pride, letting his gaze slide back to Skye’s.
Brock shifted until he sat at their woman’s feet, a place he would never hold himself again. It was to be an equal to her, not a dominant. Skye had to get used to what they were offering her and what she would be once they have her permanently settled in her life.
“I helped John past the dark days in his life.” Brock set his chin on Skye’s knee. “Once he was past them, I guided him with BDSM. He became an adept student, mastering his specialty and then some. You could benefit from our teachings to become a submissive. We’d help you rid yourself of your self-esteem issues. You can learn to believe in yourself, that you are a beautiful sexy woman. Please give us a chance.”
While his friend spoke, JC watched Skye, checking to see if she was going to bolt at his words. Skye had a trust issue with everyone, including herself. She had convinced herself
that she was not desirable, or someone had done a good job of brainwashing when she was young.
It would be interesting to see what kind of a childhood she had and if they could push all that into her past. Where it belonged.
“You just met me,” she said looking at Brock before turning to JC. “And, you. You didn’t even meet me until we came in here. How can you both possibly even say you’ve wanted me?”
JC felt himself blush for the first time in decades as he let his head drop a bit. Brock’s fidgeting indicated he was just as shamed as JC was for being called out.
He could feel Skye’s penetrating eyes on him as she waited for an answer. He had to admit she was a patient woman as she waited.
Clearing his throat, he admitted, “It was me. I watch the MVC news and have seen you in the background quite a bit. Whenever you were on, I found I wasn’t even interested in what the story was or who was reporting it. I fell in love with you over time and knew I had to meet you.”
Looking up at her, he found her staring at him in disbelief, though he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad one. When her lips turned up and a giggle escaped her, it was his turn to act surprised. Full-blown laughter followed.
A glance at Brock told JC that he was as confused as he was.
Her laughter filled the room as she looked around for something. She seemed to be searching as her eyes filled with tears.
“I get it!” she finally said between laughs. “I’m being punked! This is so good! Where’s the fucking camera.”
The slap on her thigh sobered her very quickly and surprised JC. “Ouch!” she shouted out, her head spinning to glare at Brock. “What the fuck did you do that for?”
“Women don’t cuss!” Brock said through clenched teeth. “Especially ours!”
“I’m not your woman!” Skye shouted back.
“Yes, you are.” Brock breathed in after his words.
“Look.” JC gently turned Skye’s face towards him. “Let’s get out of here. I’m hungry for something more than what is on that table, and we don’t have as much privacy here. Can we go to your place to talk?”
“Or, would you like to go back to JC’s hotel?” Brock threw in.
Skye sobered at both men’s suggestions, tears slipping down her cheeks from laughing. JC loved to see her happy.
“Please, baby girl. Let’s go somewhere else.” JC took her hand in his again. “We both want you. Let us show you.”
White teeth nibbled on her bottom lip. She debated the options in her head, he could tell. Brock had taught him about reading a sub’s actions and expressions. Nerves raced through her, as did indecision. She wasn’t certain what to think of them, or what they offered, but her body wanted to go along with him and Brock.
This was something he had been training for. To offer a woman a life of freedom from her thoughts and sexuality. It was all up to her, they were at her mercy, whatever her answer would be.
Skye looked from him, to Brock, and then back to JC. “I don’t know why I’m going to say what I am, but, I think I’m going crazy. Yes. I’ll go with you…to talk.”
Elation shot through JC but he appeared cool and collected on the outside. Thank you, training!
Brock stood quickly. He took her hand and helped her to her feet. She was still apprehensive as she pulled her hand from Brock’s.
Turning, she looked around, gathered up her notebook, pen, and her purse, and stood, waiting.
JC stood. He exchanged a look with Brock. The man’s expression mirrored JC’s feelings. They were excited, but he knew they had to take this slowly. They didn’t want to rush her in the chance they could lose her.
Grabbing his motorcycle jacket from the back of the couch, JC grabbed her hand, holding on tight. Brock followed him out into the hallway. Once there, he headed for the door opposite the stage entrance. Pushing on the door, it opened as the alarm blared.
He pulled Skye through and out into the alley as shouts sounded behind them. Brock stepped out closing the door behind him.
A black and chrome Harley sat next to the door, while another one sat behind it, although it was red. Brock skirted around JC and saddled himself up on the red bike. Skye stood looking at the two men and then the bikes. He knew what she was thinking, that she wouldn’t look good on the back of a bike, but JC was determined to change her way of thinking.
Opening one of the saddlebags, JC grabbed a black and pink helmet. Gently, he turned Skye around; he pulled her hair out of the ponytail she wore. She tried several times to stop him, but his hand pushed hers away.
“You can’t wear your hair up in a helmet,” he explained. “When we get to where we’re going, then you can put your hair back up, if you wish.”
A sigh of resignation emanated from her as he began to braid her hair. There wasn’t much, but he knew she wouldn’t want to have it all tangled when she took off the helmet. When he was finished, he slipped the pretty head covering on her and then strapped it beneath her chin.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, a bit loudly.
Skye nodded. Her eyes were pooled with wonder and confusion.
“Good. When I get on the bike, you’ll get on behind me.” He turned to show her the foot pegs. “This is where your feet will go. Be careful not to put your legs or feet near the pipes. They’ll burn you after a while. Hold onto me tight, baby girl. Lean when I lean. Just follow my motions. Understood?”
Again, she nodded before glancing back at Brock, who hadn’t started up his bike yet. JC saw that his friend had a shit-eating grin on his face as he looked at Skye.
Donning his own black helmet with the picture of a tiger on the sides, JC hiked his leg over his bike and situated himself on the seat. Starting the bike, he revved the engine a few times before turning and gave a nod to Skye.
Gingerly, she managed to get on the buddy seat, scooting herself up close to his ass which he savored greatly. He glanced down to find her feet exactly where they should be as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Brock’s bike started up behind him, the engines blaring in the alley. He had to hope that any fans who wanted autographs wouldn’t get the hint he was leaving by this mode of transportation. Doing a u-ey, barely missing some boxes left next to a trash bin across from the door to the club, he headed down the alley until he reached the sidewalk. Stopping, he looked both ways, noting that some women spotted them and headed their way.
He turned into the light traffic and headed for his hotel. Brock would be right behind him.
Skye held on tight and her legs tightened against his hips. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have her squeezing him like that while he fucked her.
It seemed like forever before they pulled up in front of the Roosevelt Hotel’s front doors. “Wait for us here, baby,” he shouted back to her. “We’ll park and be right back.”
She nodded as she carefully got off his ride. Taking a few steps back from the street, she stood.
JC looked around the street and noticed a bit of an area to park near the small deli across the street. He pulled his bike around on the one-way street, headed in the wrong direction, and raised the ire of many a cab driver. He drove about a hundred feet and backed into a spot. Brock pulled in next to him.
Cutting the engines, the two of them dismounted and headed across the street to where Skye still stood. Her helmet had been removed, and now hung in her hand. Apprehension radiated off her as she moved from foot to foot.
He and Brock removed their helmets. JC wrapped his arm around her waist as he walked her through the doors to the old grand hotel. Up the beautiful staircase with the burgundy and gold carpet they went and then across the grand lobby with the cascading chandeliers to the bank of six elevators.
People openly stared at them as they waited for one of the cars to arrive to take them to his room. A ding announced the arrival of their vertical carriage as did a disembodied voice saying, “doors opening”. Once the three of them were inside, the same voice anno
unced, “doors closing”.
They rode in silence to his floor. He had reserved a suite in anticipation of Brock’s arrival along with Skye joining them.
Exiting the elevator once they arrived on the appropriate floor, JC took her hand and led her to the room. Excitement thrummed through his body, his cock pressing hard against his leathers. He needed her so much right now, but he wasn’t going to frighten her away by coming on too strong too quickly.
When the trio arrived at the suite, JC pulled the plastic key card out of his jacket pocket, slipped it in the slot, and waited for the green light to illuminate. Pushing the door open, he gave a sweep with his arm, beckoning her to enter first.
Trepidation radiated off Skye, concerning the singer. As she entered his suite, he had to wonder if perhaps they should have taken it slower with her.
***
The lights had been left on in the suite. Skye’s luscious body was silhouetted as she walked in to the hall and then turned right towards the sitting room. Her ass moved delectably in the dark jeans she wore, making Brock lick his lips.
He sensed Skye’s apprehension, but he didn’t understand why JC was nervous, and not because of the sex. He had to wonder if his old friend had second thoughts.
Following her inside, he stopped at the door. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Are you, all right?”
JC nodded. “She’s scared. Do you think we’re pushing her too hard?”
“No,” Brock answered lowly. “She’s been in her own world for so long, she needs to be freed. We’re the ones to do exactly that.”
“Of course,” JC said demurely.
Brock made his way into the main room where Skye had seated herself on the couch. He knew that JC would defer to him due to his training. They just needed to begin her training and the sooner the better.
Grabbing the room service menu off the desk, he went over and sat next to Skye. She flinched slightly when he sat down, but she stilled quickly.
JC let the door close behind him and sauntered into the room. “Let’s get something to eat, we’ll talk, and come to some understanding. Okay?”
