Taken by Two

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  “Well, I fucked up somehow—I’m an emergency doc, not a surgeon, and was drunk off my ass. It wouldn’t stop bleeding and I passed out on my floor.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Nate somehow…”

  “I sensed it, Penny, I felt it. I was sound asleep, but jolted up in bed and knew I had to get to Rex. He doesn’t believe it, but it happened.”

  “Like divine providence,” I offered.

  “I don’t believe in that shit, but I’m grateful as fuck that he broke the door down.”

  “You’re a Catholic, how can you not accept a miracle?”

  “I hedge my bets, that’s all. A little insurance, but I never said I believed it. Anyway, he got to me—he stopped the bleeding.”

  “He’d given me his crash-combat med course just a few days prior,” Nate explained.

  “After I came to, he even stitched me up—he did a pretty decent job with those soft keyboard hands,” Rex joked.

  “You gave him stitches?” I turned to look at Nate.

  “At his direction, it was terrifying.”

  “I would have done it myself, but I’d had way too much to drink. My hands were shaky,” Rex added matter-of-factly.

  “Anyway, I came clean that night about the cutting, and we talked all night long. I told him things I’ve never said to anybody.”

  “So you were able to stop the…the cutting?”

  “Pretty boy made me promise, but we made a deal. No more cocaine for him, no more cutting for me.”

  “I broke that deal once—fell off the wagon. But that seemed to be it, I haven’t had the urge since, but I’m careful,” Nate said as his lips brushed against the back of my neck.

  “I love you both so much,” was all I could manage to say.

  Nate was dozing off behind me, exhausted from the night and emotionally drained. Rex pulled me close and said, “We both love you, Penny. You’re the final piece of the puzzle. We need you.”

  “Sounds like more divine providence,” I said with a smile.

  “You’re pushing it, Princess,” Rex growled, pulling me into him with a sleepy yawn.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Back in Colombia, life resumed at its normal pace as I hung in limbo—someone was still trying to kill me but, nestled into life with these two men, I managed to ignore the threat and spent my time settling into life with the two men I loved. Nate mourned his mother, but day by day got stronger.

  Late one night the week after we returned, I was on the bed, hovering over Nate on all fours—his tongue flicking at my swollen clit, my own lips wrapping around the engorged head of his cock. Rex was behind me, standing next to the bed where Nate and I engaged in our indulgent 69, his thick cock toying with the tight entrance to my pussy until I begged him to fuck me. “Needy girl,” Rex moaned as he sunk into me, “one man’s not enough?” My tongue found Nate’s cock once again, teasing it in long, languid strokes. “Are you going to come, sweet Penny?” Rex pulled out of me, then plunged to the depths of my throbbing pussy in one solid stroke. I grunted, “Yes…fuck!” I was on the brink of orgasm, about to cascade over to the point of no return when Rex pulled his cock out of me. Before I crested, Nate’s tongue left my clit—his warm breath torturing my pulsating bundle of nerves.

  I sucked harder at Nate, desperate for him to pleasure me—I was so close to the edge of ecstasy. Nate’s mouth was moving beneath me, but not on my hungry pussy. His lips were wrapped around Rex, inches from me yet so far out of my reach. “Can you taste her sweetness all over my cock?” Rex grunted at Nate, who moaned in response, the sound of his tongue savoring my arousal from Rex so erotic, so perfect that I never wanted it to end—even though my own empty tightness yearned for them.

  “Lick my balls clean, then you can have more cock,” Rex scolded, playfully pulling himself from Nate’s mouth to lay his heavy balls across Nate’s open mouth. Nate’s cock twitched and his own balls tightened as I toyed with his shaft. Being able to touch Rex, to pleasure him in such an intimate way was heaven for Nate, and I was thrilled that I was able to facilitate contact between the two men I loved. Rex would never allow that level of contact with just the two of them alone, but with me there, in the middle, he was comfortable with Nate’s touch.

  Rex slid his long cock into Nate’s mouth, fucking his throat as Nate swallowed the punishing cock with a gurgle. Without warning, Rex’s hand yanked his cock from Nate’s worshipping mouth and impaled me with it, my tightness opening to take all of him. The sensation of Nate’s tongue on my clit while Rex fucked me hard from behind was more than I could take—I shook from the force of my climax as Nate pushed his hips into me—fucking my mouth as my throat strained to hold him. His salty ejaculate filled my mouth as he pulsed beneath me, Rex’s cock never letting up, pounding me from behind, his hands clenched around my hips as he fucked me. When Rex came inside me, Nate’s tongue rose up, dipping around Rex’s still throbbing cock, buried in me, to lick up as much of Rex’s come as he could—the combination of the two people he loved mingling on his tongue in a complete erotic synergy.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was blissfully asleep in Nate’s loving arms when it happened. Rex was in the jungle, and Nate and I had spent the evening sipping chilled white wine and tossing back popcorn as we streamed episode after episode of Californication. We had delicious tipsy sex, and collapsed together in his comfy bed.

  It happened so fast, I thought it was a dream—or a nightmare. I heard Nate scream, then a loud thud. My eyes couldn’t focus in the dark, and I struggled to understand as I screamed for him—and then everything went black. When I came to, I was in a room—a bedroom. My head throbbed—I’d been hit with something, but after that an electric shock had knocked me out. I felt the burn marks on the back of my neck from the device. Nate wasn’t with me, and I prayed that he was okay.

  I was tied to a bed—my feet by ropes, my wrists taped together with silver duct tape in a dark room. I was still too weak from the blow to stay conscious, and despite the urgent voice in my head screaming for me to escape, I drifted back into a pained sleep thinking of Nate.

  “Who the fuck are you?” My eyes fluttered opened as they strained to focus on the man standing in front of me. The room was dark, and my head still throbbed. “Uh,” my eyes blinked as he became clearer. His English was impeccable, but there was a faint trace of a South American accent laced in. He wore a silvery suit—his black hair was longish, silky but slicked back, his face covered by a well-trimmed dark beard. A large gold hoop ran through one ear—he was handsome, exotic looking.

  I couldn’t think of a decent lie, so I settled on the truth. “Penelope Sedgewick,” I answered. “Oh fuck!” he screamed in recognition, not at me but toward the hallway behind him. I strained to sit up. He looked down the hall and shouted, “Woman, get the fuck in here, now!” He walked over to me, shaking his head. “That loco bitch…” he muttered, reaching down to raise me to a sitting position, my bound wrists going numb as they rested on my lap.

  “Sir, she’s not here, Mr. Pablo.” A young American appeared in the doorway, he couldn’t have been more than a teenager.

  “Why did she bring this woman to my house?” He spat each word in anger.

  The teenager shook his head. “I didn’t know until it was done. I’m sorry, I’ve tried to watch the Mistress. She plans to turn the captive over to Murdock in the morning—he’s coming in from Vegas to pick her up. I guess he’s been paid to…well, he was looking for the blonde in the States.”

  “That lunatic is going to let her sick hatred draw that crazy DEA fuck and his buddies right to my damn doorstep!” Pablo’s words were angry, but underneath, they were laced with fear.

  “What should I do, sir?”

  “Listen, Derek, I have a meeting late tonight, an important meeting. I’ll be home before dawn and I’ll decide then. Keep a close eye on the Mistress—don’t let her do anything to dig this situation any deeper.”

  “Yes, sir,” Derek answered a
s Pablo slammed the door.

  “Um, Derek is it? You’re American too?” I slathered on my flirtiest voice.

  “I-I’m from Utah.”

  “It’s pretty there. I was raised in Nevada, do you think—”

  “Enough! It’s not working on me, lady.”

  “No, I just…I have to pee. I don’t want to soil the bed, could you…?”

  “Oh,” he said, blushing a scarlet red, his eyes drifting to my bound ankles. “I-I need to ask, I’ll be right back.”

  I felt it was time to put my fighting skills to the test when Derek came back. He was small, and far from confident. The idea of fighting scared me, but Nate had trained me well and the thought of being turned over to some thug who was hired to kill me was far more frightening.

  I looked at my wrists—Nate had spent a few hours the week prior going over how to get out of the common restraint, and I was good at it. But, our lessons always involved standing. I hadn’t done it from a sitting position. With all the concentration I could muster, I raised both bound wrists as far as I could over my head. In a quick wave of bravado, I forced my arms down and out as hard as I could, mentally reminding myself to break through any perceived resistance. The first try I failed—I let hesitation and doubt get in the way. The second time, however, as my elbows cleared my hips to each side, the tape broke away with a sharp tear to my skin. I sighed a breath of relief, regretting all the whining I’d done about the bruises and strain of learning how to escape restraints. Those lessons, hopefully, just might save my life, I thought as I formed a plan.

  I looked to my feet, struggling to untie the ropes that bound me. I strained to hear Derek coming back, but there was nothing. I was able to get one foot undone, but as I started the second one, the door flung open. Shit! I was so close!

  “I’ve got you, Princess,” his deep voice cooed as he burst into the room and worked to untie my other foot. “We’ve got to go,” Rex urged. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lifted my numb limbs from the bed.

  As I rubbed my wrists, I looked over and saw her standing in the doorway. She was lit from the dim hall light behind her. Shiny, jet-black hair hung across her cheek in an oblique bobbed cut. Her pale gray eyes shone against her ivory skin. At her side she held a handgun, gripped tightly in her fist. The gun quivered slightly back and forth as her hand shook.

  “Roger, your time has come. Go join our son…” She raised the shiny black pistol with two hands in front of her. Her hands were wobbly as she leveled the gun at Rex. He didn’t go for his own weapon holstered in the waistband of his jeans. I didn’t think she was bluffing, so I reached for it—but his large hand stopped me.

  Rex’s calm voice spoke as he pulled me behind him.

  “Evelyn, put that down…you don’t even know how to use that thing,” Rex smirked. Evelyn’s eyes stayed coldly locked on Rex’s as she grasped the slide of the pistol and charged it, the metallic clink echoing off the polished wood floor.

  “Evie, you won’t shoot me; you can’t. We both know it.” Rex was cool as ice even when staring down the barrel of a handgun. “Look at you, hand shaking like a leaf just holding that thing. Do you even know how to use it?” Evelyn just stared at Rex coldly and nodded her head.

  “You know me well enough to know that this isn’t the first time I’ve had a gun pointed at me, and the last guys who did it actually knew what they were doing with one. Put that away. I’m taking Penelope here home, that’s all.” He reached for my hand, pulling me behind him as he took a step toward the door.

  I heard the horrid BANG and felt the hot muzzle flash before I fully realized what happened. One step in front of me, Rex suddenly stumbled, then fell to the ground. My ears were ringing from the intensity of the sound of the gunshot, but I heard the tink-tink-tink of the expended brass shell casing bouncing off the ground. I fell to my knees beside Rex on the wooden floor. He lay on his side, a red circle on his shoulder just beginning to ooze red where the bullet hit him.

  Evelyn stood motionless, handgun still held out in front of her and a thin cloud of smoke from the gunshot rising in the air next to her. “You fucking shot him!” I screamed at the soulless bitch who just threatened to take away the man I loved. Without thinking, I yanked Rex’s gun from his jeans. Before I could fire, she shot again, directly into Rex’s abdomen.

  As she turned her pistol to me, I trained Rex’s Glock 19 handgun on the woman. Time seemed to slow down as I aimed at Evelyn, keeping my eyes open and picking out the white dot of the front sight, the dark outline of her body just behind it. I squeezed the trigger and the long pull of it with my finger seemed to take forever. Just as Rex had taught me, the shot caught me by surprise, the gun jumping back in my hands and the sound of the shot painfully stabbing my eardrums.

  Her body crumpled over and she fell hard onto the wooden floor, her eyes never closing, in the red pool of blood slowly creeping from her body. The pistol clattered across the floor and her body spasmed in a horrific final fury. I sat there stunned for a moment, my ears ringing and the sharp ammonia-like smell of the gun smoke stinging my nose. I laid down the Glock and moved to Rex—his face was white; sweat covered his forehead. He didn’t speak, instead he grunted and gasped shallowly for air. The shoulder wound had blood slowly oozing from it, but Rex was holding his gut, where the more serious wound was, his shirt beginning to turn red in a bloody halo around his hands. I dug into the backpack he’d dropped on the floor and pulled out his combat first-aid kit. In seconds, I’d pulled his shirt loose and stuffed the hole in his gut with the clotting pad—the blood slowed but continued to flow from his mid-section. With my right hand, I pressed on the wound, so hard he groaned and moved to dislodge my hand, as my left pulled out the pressure bandage. I opened it with my teeth—not sanitary, but I didn’t have any more hands. Rex’s eyes were closed, his eyelids fluttering and various muscles in his body twitching erratically, randomly. “Penny,” he whispered, his face to the ceiling. I struggled to apply as much pressure as I could as I dressed the wound. “I love you, Penny, always,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Tell Nate—I love him, too—like he wanted me to…I do, I swear.”

  “Tell him yourself,” I snapped, continuing to frantically try to stop the blood running from the gunshot, my eyes drifting in terror to his shoulder, where a large bloodstain had formed on his shirt around the ragged hole through the fabric.

  How am I going to get him out of here? I looked around. I guessed I couldn’t just call 911 like at home…

  The heavy door burst open, a dark bearded man held a rifle in front of him with a flashlight attached to the front—it had a curved magazine like the AK-47 Rex had taught me to shoot. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and had sleeved tattoos on muscular arms like Rex. He paused as he swept his rifle-mounted light across us in the dimly-lit room. Fuck, one of Pablo’s goons! I knew my handgun was no match for his rifle. The thug surveyed Rex and I on the floor, and Evelyn’s dead body close by. The man squatted at Evelyn, removing his glove to feel for a pulse at her neck while keeping his rifle trained on me. Rex’s head turned toward the door at the sound, his eyes opening wide and following the man as he stood by Evelyn’s limp body. Rex recognized the shadowy man.

  “Dan, is she gone?” Rex asked the man, his voice barely above a whisper. The man nodded as he rushed over to Rex. “She’s gone,” he confirmed, his eyes settling on Rex’s wounds. “Fuck, Colonel…Okay, stay calm. Her?” He pointed to me. “With me,” Rex coughed out. “Nate is in the basement,” Rex choked out, “save him first.” Dan nodded, answering, “They already have him, he’s safe—broken arm, maybe, not much else. They’re on their way with the truck—you’re going to be okay, buddy.” Dan inspected the shoulder with his flashlight then moved down to look at my work on the abdomen wound.

  Rex grew whiter, weaker. I never let up on the pressure on his wound, but my heart was racing. He gasped for air, only able to take small, panting breaths and coughing up sinewy spatters of blood when he ex
haled. “Bro,” he whispered to Dan, “I think…I’m…done, man.” Rex raised his hand and grasped the man’s forearm. “Gimme…Last Rites.”

  I shook my head. “You aren’t fucking dying on me!”

  “Such language,” Rex coughed, scolding me, his voice so low I could barely hear him.

  “You don’t need that, it doesn’t look that bad to me, dude.”

  Rex stared at Dan, wheezing. “I can’t move my legs,” he paused to cough, “I think it’s my spine.” Rex’s eyes rolled up and back and he closed them, his whole body relaxing.

  “I don’t think so, man, don’t you fucking give up on me,” the man gently slapped Rex’s cheek and he opened his eyes again.

  “Do it, Dan. This is it. I’m serious.” I continued to hold pressure on the wound, realizing my own hands were soaked in Rex’s blood. I couldn’t believe what was happening, what I was hearing.

  Dan leaned over and pulled a silk scarf from a pocket.

  Rex smiled, coughed again, and took as deep a breath as he could. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” Rex began, his voice fading, as the unlikely priest knelt beside him.

  “He’s not going to die!” I screamed, praying to wake up from this nightmare.

  He faded toward the end of the Last Rites sacrament being preformed by Dan, or Father Dan I guess would be more appropriate of a title. I wasn’t able to rouse him, despite my blubbering and begging. Father Dan calmly continued his duties, fulfilling Rex’s last request of him. I, however, wasn’t interested in the saving of his soul for the afterlife. I wanted him to wake up—I wasn’t about to let him leave me.