Mary Had a Little Problem

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Mary Had a Little Problem Page 9

by Blaine, Destiny


  Luke chuckled. “I did… You probably know why, too.”

  “She’s an insatiable little vixen.”

  Luke placed his palms over his ears as a small kid might. “I don’t think I can stand to hear this.” A beat later, his smile widened and his hands dropped to his sides. “Unless of course, you insist on telling me.”

  “If you could only see the way she loves me,” Brock sang.

  “That’s about what I figured,” Luke said. “You’d let me watch the two of you, wouldn’t you?”

  Brock studied him thoughtfully before he responded. Finally, he said, “You believe Mary will leave us behind if we force her to choose between us.”

  “Yep.”

  “Then we can’t ask her to make a choice.”

  “I never thought about doing that, anyway,” Luke said, realizing he stood to lose more than he’d ever gain because Brock had been there for her in recent months.

  What Mary felt for Brock was as real as what they once shared. He’d seen it in the way she looked at him, in the careful way she touched him and responded to his touch. And she’d spoken to him with sincerity in her voice when she recited her vows from the heart.

  “You’re afraid she might choose me.”

  Luke shook his head. “No, I’m afraid she’d choose you and always love me, or choose me and always love you. I don’t want her to live that way. Do you?”

  * * * *

  “One more,” Mary slurred, holding up her forefinger and gripping the table.

  “Honey, I think you’ve had enough,” Anna told her.

  “I didn’t even hug him hello,” Mary slurred.

  “I have a feeling you’ll have the opportunity to see him again,” Anna reassured her.

  “When?” Mary asked, her head rocking on her shoulders. “When will I see him?”

  “I don’t know,” Anna said, thinking she really needed to call Brock and check on him as well. Since she and Mary had been sitting in the bar, she’d considered what all of this had cost him. She also thought about the price Brock was willing to pay all for the sake of love.

  “I love him,” Mary said, her tongue in the corner of her mouth. “I still love him.”

  “Who, honey?”

  Mary sat upright. Her chin went to her neck and she sighed. For a minute, her eyes closed and Anna held her breath, thinking Mary might pass out right there at the table. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “I don’t rightly know. I guess I love them both.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. You and Luke had a special kind of love.”

  “That we did,” Mary agreed. “And Brock is lovely too.”

  “Lovely, is he?” Anna asked, grinning when she saw Brock and Luke enter the bar. “I’m sure he’d be interested to know you used a feminine term to describe him.”

  Mary snorted at that. “There’s nothing feminine about that man!” she exclaimed, stretching her arms wide. “I swear, when I first saw his dick, I thought it was this long.” A beat later, and about the time Luke and Brock reached the table, she continued, “That man can fuck all night. His sex drive is about like Luke’s. The two of them would wear a woman out.”

  Anna cleared her throat and tilted her head, trying to warn Mary of the men standing right behind her. Luke pressed his finger to his lips, and Brock shot her a weak grin. Anna was a woman’s gal. She wasn’t about to let her sister embarrass herself. “Honey, they’re right behind you.”

  “I don’t care,” Mary continued, resting her chin on the back of her hand. “I don’t care what they do anymore. I’m not going to choose between them. If I see them,” she stopped abruptly, took a swig of beer straight from the pitcher, and continued, “I’m gonna tell the both of them. It’s both or neither. That’s the way it’s gonna be. I’m not choosing between husbands. And they’re both my husbands. I swear it. In my heart, I know this.”

  Anna glanced up and shook her head, willing them to walk away. Instead, she saw the light of recognition burning brightly in two pairs of eyes. These fellows weren’t about to walk away from Mary. Plus, since she’d already confessed her love for both of them while stating that she wouldn’t choose one man over the other, she could only imagine what they were thinking.

  “Brock, Luke,” she said, addressing them.

  “Yes,” Mary said, shaking her head. “Who the hell do you think I’m talking about?”

  “They’re right behind you,” Anna said, firmer this time.

  Mary snickered, her eyes getting heavier then. “You’d better believe it. I’ll take one from behind and one in the front. Hell, it may not be as easy as I think, but it could be a lot worse.”

  At that, she fell facedown on the table, and she never even flinched.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mary was sandwiched between two large bodies. She awoke with a tremendous headache and had to rehash the last hours she remembered. She rolled over to the left, locking her arm around a hard body that only seemed vaguely familiar.

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Luke’s tan back. Behind her, Brock nuzzled her hair, whispering in her ear, “I love you.”

  As she spooned Luke, Brock wrapped around her. How had she ended up in bed with them? Had something happened that she couldn’t remember?

  “Good morning, baby,” Luke said, rolling over to face her.

  She swallowed hard as she searched his giving eyes, the eyes of a man she’d missed, of the husband she’d never fully mourned. “Good morning.”

  He winked. “Rough night?”

  “I’m beginning to think I’m living someone else’s life. One minute, things are perfect. The next, all hell breaks loose.”

  “And then it’s all good again,” Luke assured her, lowering his lips to hers.

  Brock grumbled behind her, suckling her lobe as she lost herself in one of the most memorable kisses she’d ever experienced. Luke dragged his tongue back and forth over the texture of her mouth, acting as if he savored the slow maneuver, the chance to reacquaint himself with the wife he’d deserted, the woman he left behind.

  “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?” Brock asked.

  She studied Luke when their kiss broke. He smiled as if he knew some big secret. That was unusual enough in itself. Luke had never been able to keep a secret for very long. “Did I miss something here?” she asked, wiggling away from both men and leaving them within an inch of one another.

  Luke halfway closed his eyes, extended his arms, and puckered up. “Come here, Brock. Let me kiss away your troubles.”

  Brock, who apparently had more patience for Luke’s theatrics than Mary did, chuckled. “You never change, do you?”

  “I have a good time in life,” he reported, his expression turning solemn all at once. “Most of the time, anyway.”

  “What happened last night?” Mary asked, thinking surely something must have transpired. She drew the sheet close to her chest as she considered all possibilities. “Why am I naked?”

  “That was your husband’s idea,” Brock said bitterly. “If I’d had my way about it, I’d have left you in our wedding dress.”

  “It was pretty,” Luke said, rubbing his chin. “But I prefer skin on skin.”

  “Did we…” She cleared her throat when she sounded like a raspy toad. “Did we fuck?”

  “Me and you?” Luke asked. “No.” He shot Brock a quick glance. “Come here, tiger.”

  Brock shook off his hand. “You’re gonna have to knock that off if you expect her to take us seriously.”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s better to make light of a situation, especially considering this one.”

  Mary looked around the cabin. She noticed the rugged furnishings, the heart-shaped tub in the floor, and the champagne glasses set up next to the fireplace, located inches away from a patchwork quilt. It was the dead of summer, but if she spared a guess, Brock planned to use the fireplace for a magical moment, the first lovemaking of the night. He was such a romantic.

  He’d gone to a lot o
f trouble only to have their plans ruined.

  She glanced at the bedside tables then. Both of them were loaded down with recognizable toys. Luke’s eyes followed hers. “I see you and Brock enjoy a lot of the same things you and I used to love.”

  “I’m not discussing my sex life with Brock…with you.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” Luke said. “Besides, the three of us have new memories to make.”

  She studied Brock then. “Is this your idea?”

  “We’re in agreement,” he said, reaching for her.

  “Not so fast,” she said, leaving the bed and taking the sheet with her, which left both men with their rigid cocks exposed. Her mouth watered as she eyed them. “What in the world?”

  “You’ve seen this a time or two,” Luke said, fingering his long length.

  Brock splayed his legs, and that heavy look of lust burned in his eyes, the same gaze that always seemed to split and sizzle her nerve endings. “What are you two suggesting here?”

  “It’s not a suggestion,” Luke promised, rising from the bed. “You’re mine.”

  “And mine,” Brock reminded her, his legs parting so she had a bird’s eye view of his heavy sack.

  She swallowed. What she’d give to move past this moment, get the details out of the way so she could enjoy what they were suggesting, take the men she loved to her bed, and do just that…love them.

  “We don’t have to talk about this, Mary,” Brock said, pumping his cock in his hand. “We can do what comes natural and let things fall where they may.”

  “You’d both like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, desperately wanting to fall back in bed with Luke and Brock. Urgent need built inside her. She was staring at the man she’d lost, the husband who’d failed to return to her. “I never thought for a minute that you were dead.”

  “And that’s why you went to bed with my best friend?” he asked, suggesting he resented the fact.

  “I won’t listen to your insults,” she said, returning to the mattress and sitting beside Brock, an act in itself that would piss off the other man she loved.

  “You don’t have to,” Luke said. “I understand. You were told I died, whether you believed it or not. You were expected to move on, Mary. I wasn’t there.”

  “Is that what you call missing in action? Just not being there?” she asked, anger in her tone.

  Brock scooted behind her. His lips went to her nape, and her nipples spiked under the sheet.

  “If I could’ve been there, I would’ve been, and you know this.”

  “Hmm,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “And now what? You expect me to love two soldiers now, so if death knocks on my door again, I’ll have someone to fall back on?”

  “It’s not such a bad idea,” Luke replied.

  “And what if the two of you are on the same tour, hmm?”

  “That doesn’t happen much,” Brock whispered, traveling down her shoulders. His hands fell to her waist, and he hoisted her high above him. When he released her, Mary’s naked body towered over Brock’s rigid form, and her pussy lingered above his cock.

  “Fuck him,” Luke said, staring at her pussy as soon as the sheet fell to the wayside.

  “I won’t do this,” she said, already wet and completely aware of the fact that fucking Brock was precisely what she needed to do.

  “You’ll screw him, and I won’t ask you again,” Luke said, the humor no longer evident in his voice, the amusement no longer existing in his expression.

  That rough edge in Luke’s tone was what she’d missed, the easy way he went from comedian to Dom was what lit a roaring fire in the pit of her gut. He could swing one way and then another, and whatever mood he possessed, he fully expected her to match.

  “I don’t know how to love you anymore,” she confessed, looking away from Luke when his eyes showcased more sorrow than she’d ever seen in any man’s eyes. She glanced over her shoulder and said, “I don’t know how to love either of you now.”

  “Then we’ll show you,” Brock assured her, using her torso to position her, then lowering her body over his.

  The impalement was swift, so quick in fact that she never expected him to enter her. The swollen head of his cock didn’t nudge her opening, the thick crest led to a full-fledged invasion.

  With her knees bent, her feet flat against the mattress, she could only imagine the kind of show she and Brock provided. Luke acted as if he were quite prepared to be well entertained.

  * * * *

  Luke gasped as soon as Brock entered her. “That’s beautiful,” he whispered, staring at their connection, watching as Mary’s pretty pussy lips flared in acceptance. Brock sat in a jackknifed position with one palm supporting him. His free arm looped around her middle as his thumb raked over Mary’s nipple.

  Luke sat in a nearby chair, watching them fuck, seeing them love one another in his presence. And he couldn’t imagine anything more sensual than watching the woman he cared for, truly loved, love another man she adored.

  “That’s it, sugar,” Brock breathed, cupping her breast. “Work that sweet body for me, sub.”

  Mary’s blonde hair swept over her shoulder, and she latched onto her bottom lip as she stared at Luke with lust-filled eyes. He went to her then and pinched the other nipple, his mouth opening when her lips parted.

  Moistening his lips, he suckled her breast, watching as Brock continued to manipulate the other hard point. She was recently waxed, and he noticed.

  Brock had casually mentioned he’d given her a weekend getaway to a day spa in the country prior to her arrival in the mountains. The trip rewarded them all. He’d never seen her so bare and exposed.

  Kissing her chest, Luke dragged his tongue over the peak he’d licked, nudging Brock’s hand out of the way so he could kiss the other point. Then, he rose to his knees and attacked her lips, framing her face as he drove into her mouth, famished.

  Their kiss heated his lips, burned his soul. As he held her head in his hands, she did the same, using him for leverage as Brock worked his cock in and out of her sweet body, the body he’d longed to possess again, swearing if he could make love to her one more time, he’d never wish for anything more.

  Her mouth watered as he kissed her. Tears drifted down her cheeks. “You’ve missed me,” he crooned, breaking their connection. “You may be crazy about that lug inside you, but you’ve missed me.”

  Brock grunted, and Luke looked over Mary’s shoulder. “Pardon me for asking, buddy. But don’t you think it’s only fair to share?”

  Brock grinned. “Do you think you’re the only man who’s ever wanted to fuck my woman?”

  “I guess I deserve that, huh?” Luke asked, dragging Mary away from Brock’s arms.

  “Will you play nice?” Mary asked.

  “Never, sub,” Luke replied, eyeing the table filled with goodies. “And I don’t know why, after all this time, you’d expect me to.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was a part of Brock that had needed to finish what they’d started and another part of him that longed to harness his lack of control. He and Luke had only briefly discussed expectations, and fortunately, Mary hadn’t tried to overanalyze their time together.

  In many ways, Luke’s addition to their bed would be challenging, but on the other hand, he would also bring something to the picture Brock hadn’t expected. He certainly didn’t have a problem with waiting.

  As a practiced Dom who’d lived in the lifestyle for a number of years, Brock had realized something early in his relationship with Mary. They were so compatible that he had zilch control around her.

  When they were in bed together, Brock had tried to postpone fucking her, often teasing her beyond normal limitations, and still had found he’d been unable to practice what he’d preached. He’d often left her tied to the bed with a dildo in her pussy so he could walk away and test her without testing himself.

  Luke reached for the silk scarves. “On your knees, sub.”

&nb
sp; “Yes, sir,” she said, obedient, eager, and far too compliant, something Brock assumed she’d always been with Luke. She’d been relatively easy for Brock to train, then again, the program he had in place had never been too strenuous.

  Luke waggled his brows behind her, and Brock shook his head. Without a doubt, Brock would have to take Mary to bed a lot without Luke. He was too fun-loving, and while there wasn’t anything wrong with having a great time in bed, Brock liked slow moving sex acts and enjoyed making love to the woman he adored. Luke probably didn’t believe in taking his time, and Brock couldn’t picture him using a slow hand whatsoever.

  Once Mary rose to her knees, Luke barked another order, “Arms forward.”

  Immediately, Mary extended her thin limbs with her fists balled and pressed together. Luke tied her hands using two strips of material, binding them together before tying the sash to one of the bedposts. The new position he forced Mary to take made Brock as hard as steel.

  With a natural curve to her waist, Mary leaned off to the left. “Are you uncomfortable, sub?” Luke asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” he said, making Brock jerk to attention.

  Luke picked up a paddle and took to task a planned spanking. He set aside the wooden accessory and grabbed a jar of salve, unscrewing the brass lid and taking a sudden deep breath. “I have dreamed about this.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Mary said, twisting her hips.

  Brock watched quietly as two old lovers, husband and wife, reconnected, and while he felt his heartstrings tug a little tighter, he wasn’t sure he’d define the distorted emotions as envy.

  Mary locked eyes with him then, and as if she’d read his mind, she mouthed the words, “I love you.”

  “Quiet, sub,” Luke said, staring at her mouth after she’d extended the sentiment.

  “Brock, do you have that treat in the freezer?” Luke asked, bringing Brock out of his lightheaded state. He walked the short distance to the kitchenette and had just started to remove the bowl of prepared ginger fingers when a loud swat resounded in the room.

 

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