by P. F. Kozak
“Well, you’re right about that. Speaking of which, I need to hire another part-time waitress. We need more coverage for happy hour.”
“See that, you’re already running the damn place. Let’s make it official.”
Pepper grinned. “Do I get a raise?”
“If you sleep with the boss, you might.”
“That can be arranged.”
“I thought so.” Ted gave Pepper a bear hug. “I know I’ve said this before, but I have to say it again. I’m glad you’re back.”
Pepper’s eyes welled up as she whispered, “I’m glad I’m back with both of you.”
Once both Butch and Pepper agreed to let Ted tell the museum about his new painting, he rallied. He finished his ginger ale. Then he took pictures of his paintings, including his latest work. He wanted to give the museum plenty of choices.
Pepper talked him into including the cardinal. To humor Butch, he agreed to include the drawing of him and his first car. Butch didn’t care that the museum only wanted paintings. He thought the drawing deserved consideration with everything else.
They celebrated with pizza and beer for dinner. Ted ate four pieces, and showed no signs of his earlier nervous stomach. While nursing yet another beer, Ted suggested the celebration should continue upstairs.
Butch had also cracked another beer. “Why the fuck do we have to go upstairs? Let’s get it on right here.”
Ted challenged Butch. “You have a short memory. That’s why we got the big bed for Pepper’s room. Who the hell wants to do it in the kitchen when we’ve got a king-size bed waiting?”
Pepper agreed. “For Christ’s sake, Butch, we eat here.” She got up and took the empty pizza boxes to the trash can on the back porch.
Butch yelled after her. “What’s your point, Pepper? We eat in your bed all the fucking time. We eat you out, you suck us. It’s a happy meal you won’t get at Mickey D’s.”
Ted laughed. “Do you know you’re fucking crude?” He followed Pepper outside with the empty beer bottles.
Butch yelled again. “Yeah. I know. That’s why you both love me so much.”
Pepper came back in, while Ted stayed outside bagging the recyclable trash. She rinsed out the dishcloth, and then wiped the table. “How many beers have you had, paisan?”
“Lost count. I think this is number four.”
She came around to his side of the table to finish cleaning it. “Maybe you’ve had enough?”
“Sweetheart, since you’ve come back, I can’t get enough.” He grabbed her and pulled her down on his lap. He whispered in her ear, “Let’s you and me do Rembrandt right here on the table. My asshole needs a break. He did me real good night before last.”
Pepper giggled. “He did it on purpose. Said you were overdue for a good one.”
“Yeah, well, so is he. Are you in?”
“I’m in, if he fucks me while you do him. Good?”
“Fucking wonderful. Grab the lube before he comes back.”
Pepper jumped up and threw the dishcloth in the sink. She ran into the pantry to get the tube she stashed there.
Ted came back in and washed his hands. “Where’s Pepper?”
“In the pantry. She’ll be right back.” Butch reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.
“So are we going upstairs?”
“For the second round.” Butch took a condom out of his wallet and tossed it onto the table. “The first round will be right here.”
Pepper came out of the pantry. “We don’t have any Crisco. Will this do?” She held up a spray can of butter-flavored Pam.
Butch burst out laughing, while Ted stared at her in disbelief. Once she got the reaction she wanted, she held up the other hand. “Just kidding! Here’s the lube.”
“Good one, Pepper! You nearly gave Rembrandt a heart attack.”
“Thank you. Did you tell Ted he’s it?”
“Not yet.” Butch stood up and unzipped his pants. “Teddy boy, you’re it.” Over the last several months, they had taken up tag-team buttfucking. Much like calling dibs, whoever got tagged as “it” by the other two on any given night took it up the ass.
Ted narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. He gave both Butch and Pepper the eye. “Well, now. This is a surprise. I thought we’d do Pepper tonight.”
“Nope. I have a hankering for some ass. Pepper’s in if you fuck her while I fuck you.”
Pepper watched Ted carefully, to make sure he didn’t object. When he unzipped his jeans, she knew he’d accepted being “it.”
“All right, boys, how do we do this? We’ve never done it in the kitchen before.”
Butch assumed the role as leader of this session. “I want to see your tits while I take Rembrandt. Take off your clothes and lay down on the table.”
Ted nodded. “He’s right, Pepper. If you’re on your back, I can do you while Butch plugs me.”
“This sounds like fun, guys. I can see what’s going on with you two if I’m on my back.”
Butch exposed his cock. “That’s the idea, sweetheart. Everyone gets some.” He opened the lubricant. “Let’s get you loosened up, Ted.”
Rather than just lowering his jeans like Butch did, Ted took everything off. “Damn good thing I have the fence around the house. Our neighbors would get a show tonight.”
Once Pepper had taken her clothes off, she laid down on the table. “While Butch is warming you up, why don’t you warm me up?” She propped her feet on a chair.
“Not a bad idea.” Ted pulled out a second chair, so Pepper could put a foot on each one. He set them far enough apart that Pepper had to stretch her legs wide open.
“Damn, Ted! I’m not a gymnast. I never could do a full split.”
“Maybe not, but the view is pretty damn good from here.”
“Yeah, mamma. Wet pussy, my favorite.” Butch shoved at Ted’s shoulder. “Bend over, unless you want to go cold turkey.”
“Not with your big fucking dick, paisan. Work it.”
Ted bent over and licked Pepper while Butch loosened up his ass. Pepper’s pelvis undulated on the table as Ted sucked her clit and she watched Butch finger-fuck Ted. Within minutes, the three lovers had generated enough steam to fog the windows.
“Rembrandt, your ass is like rubber. You’re ready.” Butch picked up the condom from the table.
Ted raised his head. “So is Pepper.”
Butch stared at her tits while he put the condom on. “Next round, I’m doing her.” He came around and deep-throat kissed her while Ted rubbed her clit. Pepper moaned into his mouth.
Ted pushed him back. “Hey, man, you’re doing me, remember?”
Butch stood up. “Yeah, I remember. But Christ, her tits are good.”
“Yeah, they are.” Ted inched Pepper forward, so her ass was right at the edge of the table. “Is that comfortable for you?”
“It’s fine. Fuck me already.”
Ted obliged. He positioned himself between her legs and leaned forward. Pepper lifted her hips off the table when his prick popped inside. Ted moaned. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Then you’ll really like this.” Butch rammed his dick into Ted’s ass, pushing Ted’s dick deeper into Pepper. Ted groaned loudly.
“Oh, yeah, do me, paisan. Stuff that prick of yours in my asshole.”
“You got it.”
As usual, Butch wasn’t gentle. He never was when he fucked either of them. Pepper could feel the strength of each thrust as Butch pounded Ted. In turn, Ted nailed her. Pepper had learned to relax into the rhythm of her lovers. When they did three, one of the men would usually lead. This time Butch did.
Pepper loved the feel of her two lovers moving at the same time. The sensual dance they did as three became more erotic everyday. They understood each other, and naturally moved in synchronized rhythm. This time, they danced to Butch’s beat, a wild, passionate tango of soulful harmony.
Butch finished first, and then Ted. Even in the throes of his own climax, Ted rubbed her clit with such int
ensity that Pepper joined the men’s orgasms with her own.
Just as they lived together, they loved together. They belonged together as three.
NO STRINGS
ATTACHED
DEVYN QUINN
Prologue
Gold Rush Casino
Reno, Nevada
A ngelino DiMarco stretched out on his expensive leather couch like a panther under a scorching desert sun. Scotch on the rocks in one tanned hand, immaculate white shirt unbuttoned to the waist, he was the image of idle wealth. Lara knew he was trouble when she saw the icy glint in his eyes.
DiMarco smiled, a baring of teeth more akin to the grin of hungry piranha than a display of actual affection. “So you got something for me?”
Shaking her head, Lara returned the show of teeth. “You know I haven’t got the money, Angie. You ain’t the only one Donnie fucked over. I worked to earn most of the money he gambled away.”
“Is that so?”
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
Focused on her tits, DiMarco grinned in a way that said he wasn’t feeling sorry for her at all. His gaze didn’t just strip away her clothing, it tore it to shreds and tossed the remains. “That’s too bad for you, babe.”
Throat tightening with embarrassment, Lara flushed hot all over. She was dressed in a midriff-baring baby tee; the material clung to her ample breasts, outlining her nipples. The pink tips were on prominent display through the sheer fabric. A faded denim skirt hugged her rear, showing her legs to their best advantage in thigh-high leather boots. She might as well have been naked.
DiMarco swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “We gotta do something about that.”
Lara took a shallow breath and eyed the swarthy Italian. His words didn’t hold a single note of reassurance. “W-we do?”
DiMarco sipped and ogled. Lean and sinewy, his tan was an expensive fake, his muscles sculpted in a private gym. A man with money to burn, he clearly hadn’t seen a hard day’s work in his whole life. The office around him stank with stale cigarette smoke, alcohol, and the sweat of sex, lots of sex.
“Don’t play stupid. Donnie skipped town owing me over a hundred thousand.” DiMarco’s keen gaze seemed to slice her to the skin. “Since you were married to him, you get to stand up and take the screwing he tried to give me.” He downed the last of his drink. Ice clinked when he set the glass aside. “You get what I’m saying, sugar?”
Stomach twisting into knots, Lara gave a single nod. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying.” Payback. DiMarco wanted it. In full. No doubt about it. She was screwed with a capital S.
She closed her eyes for a moment in sheer frustration. Shit. Shit. Shit. How did she always manage to get herself caught between the rocks and the hard places in life?
DiMarco’s voice broke into her thoughts, all low and smooth. “I’m willing to give you a chance to make things right. I think you and I can come to some sort of an, ah, arrangement where your physical assets are concerned.”
The ground beneath her feet crumbled away. In other words he wanted to fuck her.
No surprise there. DiMarco had sniffed around her like a coonhound since the day he’d laid eyes on her. With Donnie out of work and not a dime between them, she’d had to go back to stripping to make the rent.
She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, toward the sole avenue of escape. Playing cards around a table, DiMarco’s bodyguards were situated perilously close to the door. There were two brawny men, neither looking very bright or alert. Not quite into their game, both smirked like cats eating canaries. They’d obviously watched their boss fuck a lot of women.
And judging by the glint in their eyes, they expected a turn as well.
Using her body to get out of this jam wasn’t something she wanted to do. Still it was preferable to the possible alternative: a trip to the desert to feed the coyotes.
Gritting her teeth, Lara lifted her chin. “I guess I’ll do whatever you want.”
DiMarco nodded his approval. “Good girl.” Brown gaze smoldering with anticipation, he got up. “You and I understand each other fine.” His wolfish grin widened. He sauntered over. “Let’s see what we have here. Turn around.”
“Why?” The question popped out.
Wrong thing to say.
DiMarco’s hand shot out, catching her by the chin.
Lara bit back a cry of pain.
DiMarco’s grip tightened. “You’ll do what I say when I say.” He let her go. “Now turn the fuck around.”
Revolted by how eager she was to obey, Lara forced herself to stay calm. “Whatever you want, boss.” Prickles going up and down her spine, she slowly pivoted on one spike heel.
DiMarco stepped behind her, giving her rear a hard squeeze. “Bend over and put your hands on my desk.”
She bent, spreading her fingers along the smooth mahogany. The solidity of the wood under her hands helped steady her stance. The heels under her feet wobbled. Her knees were trembling so hard she could barely make her legs support her weight.
He grunted. “I bet that asshole of yours is virgin.” One booted foot went between hers, urging her to spread. Wider.
Clenching her eyes tight, Lara sucked in a sharp breath. She tensed, waiting. It’s only sex. Like it or not, her body was the only commodity she had of value. Might as well start using her physical assets to get ahead. She’d had enough hard knocks to last a lifetime.
Big hands followed, cupping her ass cheeks. “I think you and I can do some business here.” His fingers dug in painfully, tightening like a vise. A burning iron stabbed from the place he touched straight to the center of her gut. Her nipples tingled in response. Her hands clenched the wood; her breathing grew shallow.
Using just the tips of his fingers, DiMarco eased up her skirt. The flat of his palm unexpectedly connected with her ass. Hard. “Sexy.”
Lara gritted her teeth. “Damn, that hurt.”
“It was supposed to.” He chuckled, sounding obscene and amused at the same time. “Good, tight ass. No flab, no droop. You keep yourself in nice shape.”
“Thanks.” She winced when he pinched again. “I think.”
DiMarco swept her T-shirt up to her neck. “Nice tats.” He ran his hands over her exposed skin, fingers tracing the lines. “I like it.” Warm palms slid down her sides. “Very dark and sensual.”
“Thanks.” Etched in ink from shoulders to ass was a female Grim Reaper in all her dark glory. Skulls littered the ground around the Reaper’s feet. The head of a recent victim dangled from one hand. Lara’s arms, ass, abdomen, and ankles were also decorated with a wickedly Gothic motif. With her long spiky black shag and heavily lined silvery-gray eyes, she knew her personal style was a tad on the extreme side.
DiMarco reached around to cup her breasts. Capturing the tips, he pinched.
A hot tingle brought the blood rushing to Lara’s nipples. A soft gasp escaped. Electric heat traveled straight to her core. Acutely aware of her pulsing clit, she couldn’t hold back a shiver.
Fingers clenching at her thighs, DiMarco pressed his hips against hers. Only clothing separated their bodies. “You like that?” He laughed softly from behind. “The way you strut that stage tells me you’re a woman who enjoys a good fuck.”
Closing her eyes, Lara felt her inner muscles coil in violent reaction. Her skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her whole body vibrated with need. The silky dampness of her panties clung. A mental image jolted her—of DiMarco naked in bed with her, their limbs entwined and his cock sheathed deep inside her.
Yeah, she liked sex. Definitely and completely.
DiMarco’s exploring hands traveled down her flat abdomen. One palm slid over her Venus mound, cupping her intimately. He wiggled a finger into her panties, parting her labia and stabbing into her warmth. “I knew you’d be wet.”
Lara gasped. “Oh, God!” Racing electric shocks went all the way to her toes. Carnal appetite spontaneously combusted, then blazed with an all-consuming heat. The delicious sensation
s his touch incited ran riot over her senses, delivering an unwelcome jab to her libido. Unable to stop herself, she gyrated her hips with a smooth and silent urgency. She couldn’t stop the needs of her traitorous body, hijacking her control.
“You’re one hot bitch.” DiMarco’s fingertip waltzed slow circles around her clit. “You want more, don’t you?”
Lara ran her tongue over dry lips, trying to distract her thoughts. No good. His touch was becoming more than she could bear, and the idea that she might enjoy being sexually dominated bothered her. Yet the same time something deep inside her psyche took pleasure in entertaining the forbidden thought.
“Please, Angie, not like this,” she finally managed to gasp out.
To her relief his hand slipped away. She heard him step back. “Turn around.”
Thank heavens. Knees trembling, Lara slowly pivoted around to face him.
Smiling, DiMarco lifted his wet fingers to his mouth. Licked. “Mmm. I always knew you were hot to trot, babe. I’ll make a shitload selling off this sweet ass of yours.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, dismay filled her. “I thought we…” Her words trailed away.
He laughed and tweaked a nipple. “You thought I wanted you?”
She nodded stupidly. “Yeah, I did.”
DiMarco gave a vigorous shake of his head. “Nah. You’re just a piece of meat to me. Donnie didn’t know what to do with you, but I do. You’re tight, virgin quality. Selling that hungry twat of yours for a couple of years will pay me back just fine.” He tweaked her nipple again and winked. “I never dip a wick in my ladies. Business, you know. Just business. All I want from you is cold hard cash, babe.”
Lara froze. Hearing his words, shame incinerated her. “I’m not a whore,” she spluttered, shocked. What the hell had she been thinking? She felt dirty, used and deceived by her own desperation.
DiMarco’s brows shot up with unholy amusement. “You’re already stripping to the skin on stage,” he pointed out. “Spreading your legs is just the next step.” He reached out, stroking her cheek with damp fingers. “That body of yours is all sin. The way that nice tight pussy of yours responds to a man’s touch is like a firecracker going off.”
