by Clare Murray
“I was a bit afraid you might be disapproving,” Abby whispered.
“No.” He spoke a split second before his lips descended upon hers. With a sound of surprise, she flung her arms around his neck, letting him bear her down onto the bench seat. He wrestled his seat belt away with one impatient movement and propped himself above her, arms on either side of her neck.
His jeans were still on, buttoned but unzipped, allowing his bare cock to nestle tantalizingly against her crotch. Abby thrust against it, nipping at Cam’s lower lip. What had started slow and easy had turned into a firestorm of desperation. By now, Russ had to be aware of what was happening.
Logic and emotion both told her that the men were a package deal. The logic part balked just the tiniest bit at that, still clinging to a pre-defined notion of normality.
Her heart, however…
“Goddammit,” Russ said.
Abby broke the kiss, turning to look for the other Twin. She was utterly pinned down by Cam, so all she could move was her head. She blinked as Russ glared at her from the front seat. The van was stopped, engine turned off. When had that happened?
“It’s about time you noticed,” she told Russ.
The glare on his face froze, then softened into a vaguely quizzical scowl. “I noticed three miles ago.”
“Why didn’t you stop?” She stretched, feeling hungry, sexy, powerful, especially with the way his eyes were riveted on her.
“There wasn’t a good place to pull over.” It was a flimsy excuse, one she instantly saw through. There was no other traffic, and the highway still had two lanes in decent condition if someone wanted to pass.
No, the delay wasn’t external—there was something Russ was struggling with. His chiseled jaw was set, brows drawn down slightly as he regarded them, one arm still resting on the steering wheel.
He’d needed an explicit invite to join them last time, she remembered. Would he need one now? She watched him, unable to bridge the gap this time.
After a moment, he swore. Metal clanked against metal as he ripped his seat belt away in a move so fast it blurred. Seconds later, Cam’s weight lifted and Russ’s face replaced his. Cobalt eyes blazed down at her.
“I’m a virgin,” he said tightly. “Just so you know.”
“I’m not a virgin, just so you know.”
He blinked at her rapid reply. “It doesn’t matter to you? You don’t mind?”
Unease rippled through her until a light thrust of her pelvis confirmed he was hard and ready. Any hang-up Russ had was purely in his own mind and definitely wasn’t physical.
“No, I don’t mind. Why the hell should I mind?” Pleasure withheld made her snappy. Damn, maybe she should have sounded more understanding, tried to be kinder, gentler. But Russ laughed, that tense expression relaxing as he continued to regard her.
“You’re a treasure, Abby,” he said. His kiss was deep and slow, ratcheting her passion back up to maximum. She tore at the zipper of his jeans until the fly came undone, then worked at the button until she could easily slide the black denim down his waist.
Hands—Cam’s hands—pulled up the hem of her shirt, interrupting the kiss with Russ to expose her bra. She arched her back, giving him access to the strap so that he could undo it. Russ let out a hiss at the sight of her bare breasts, bending to take one in his mouth. When Cam suckled the other one, Abby arched again, pelvis coming into delicious contact with Russ’s body. When she reached to undo her jeans, however, both men prevented the movement.
She wriggled, but they gave no quarter. Only when she stopped protesting did Russ tease her fly open, underscoring his control over her. Their control. Her jeans were peeled slowly from her, exposing her bare thighs one inch at a time. He paused halfway down to press kisses on her skin, trailing maddeningly upward until his lips were mere inches from her panties, until she could feel his hot breath there.
No matter how much she wriggled and twisted, she couldn’t press herself against his mouth. Abby let out a growl of frustration, doing her best to clamp his head between her thighs. Russ laughed, rewarding her with a kiss directly on the fabric of her underwear. Then he squeezed her, warning her to stay still, and she felt a slight nip as he began tugging the garment down with his teeth.
Abby cried out, the sound half-lost in Cam’s lips as he bent to kiss her. She kissed back frantically, arms still pinned under his weight. Both men seemed determined to drive her utterly insane. As Russ finished divesting her of her panties, she tried hooking him toward her with her legs.
“Condom,” she managed, brushing the word against Cam’s lips.
“Twins undergo mandatory birth control injections, remember?” he said, pulling back. He cocked his head expectantly, and Abby heard the unspoken question loud and clear.
“I’m clean,” she said. “They didn’t…”
She shut her eyes, recalling her close call. Come to think of it, Senator Green likely had something sexually transmitted, given his multiple dalliances with women. If he’d carried through…if she had stayed…
“Baby,” Russ said. The unexpected endearment startled her into opening her eyes. “Say the word, and I’ll go back and kill them.”
Intense, these men were so intense. They lacked some of the social skills she’d once taken for granted, like small talk, but who needed small talk when most of the world lay in ruin?
Abby managed a smile and a touch of humor to cover up the feelings his words stirred up. “Not now, please.”
As she’d hoped, her words prompted an easing of the hardness around his mouth, which she further softened by initiating another kiss. The slight control she gained was unraveled in seconds when Russ parted her thighs and pressed the head of his cock against her entrance. She let out a whimper of need.
One thrust, and he was inside her. She drew in a sharp breath, torn between watching his satisfied expression and letting herself adjust to his unexpected girth. But he paused in acknowledgment of her slight discomfort while Cam bent over her to kiss her exposed throat.
“So sexy,” he whispered. His stubble rasped against her skin, and she bucked against Russ.
“More. Now.” Abby punctuated the demand with a thrust of her hips. She was going to melt if he didn’t move. Turning her head to the side, she nibbled at Cam’s earlobe, gasping as Russ withdrew then plunged forward. Her eyes crossed with pleasure, then immediately refocused as the depth of his thrust bordered on discomfort.
Cam cradled her, preventing her head from ramming into the bench seat’s fixed armrest. That freed her hands to fumble the button of his jeans free. Turning her head to the side, she lapped at the head of his cock, relishing the groan he made. He nudged against her lips until she parted and let him in, whimpering a little as Russ continued to thrust.
“So damn close,” Cam rasped, easing into her mouth. He still held her head protectively, which was a relief because she was beginning to feel as if she might fall apart. Carefully at first, he began to fuck her mouth. She kept herself as receptive as possible, doing her best to ensure her teeth didn’t scrape his skin.
That got progressively more difficult as she neared orgasm. Abby fought to keep her jaw relaxed, barely registering Cam’s warning. Hot seed spurted against the roof of her mouth, and she swallowed reflexively, clutching at Russ to orient herself. His skin was hot and smooth against her fingers—at some point, he’d shed his shirt, revealing his muscles in all their glory. The sight nearly tipped her over.
She hovered on the edge, breathing hard, pleading wordlessly with her eyes as Russ met her gaze. “What is it, baby?” he asked. “What else do you need from us?”
“Don’t…know,” she panted, then let out a broken cry as Cam bent over her breasts, taking one into his warm, wet mouth. That was enough. Electricity pulsed through her, temporarily shattering the world into tiny shards of pleasure. She screamed her release, taken
even higher as Russ pumped within her as his own groans mingled with hers.
“Abby. God.” She felt him release, stilling deep within her as he speared her with a fiercely bright gaze. She rippled around his cock in helpless pleasure, still coming down from it, still breathing too hard to speak.
They took care of her afterward, taking turns cradling her while they dressed themselves. Then, working together, they clothed her again and made sure she was able to sit up, drowsily propped between them. After a few minutes, she roused herself enough to look out the window. This stretch of highway was still deserted. It was possible someone had rolled on by and gotten an eyeful, but if so, they were long gone.
“Can I drive?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“You have a license?” Russ asked.
“I was sixteen when the world ended, so yep. If you want to see it, though, you’ll have to dig it out of my former home. I think I left it under the bed in a fireproof box.”
Proof that she’d once existed, mixed up with millions of other pieces of evidence. Maybe one day the Barks would evolve enough to delve into archaeology. Maybe another race of aliens would come along and conquer them.
There were too many damn maybes in life.
Neither man answered her question. She glanced between them both, noting the slight distance in their eyes. Talking among themselves—no, arguing, judging by the tension in their bodies. All rigid, they weren’t as comfortable to lean against. Some of her postcoital bliss evaporated.
“Well?” she demanded, annoyed at being left out. It was like she was between two people speaking in another language as they deliberately excluded a nonspeaker.
“Bit concerned about you driving.” Russ came to long enough to give her a snappy soundbite before going back to his argument.
Oh, so they didn’t want her to drive, but they couldn’t settle upon which of them was going to do it. Her eyes narrowed and she sat up, all languidness chased away by a flash of anger as she split a glare between the men.
So they were fighting over which of them got the privilege of holding her in the aftermath? Screw that.
“I’ll sit in the back while you argue over me,” she snapped. “I don’t play games like this, and I’m not some toy you can fight over.”
Abby got to her feet and moved past them to the rearmost bench seat, ignoring their twin expressions of chagrin. Curling up, she buckled herself in and closed her eyes.
Chapter Seven
“Goddammit,” Russ snapped, inserting the word into his brother’s mind with as much force as he could muster. “Now look what’s happened.”
There was a short silence as Cam looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, she’s taken her ball and gone home.”
“I’ll drive, then.”
“No, I can.” Cam rubbed his hand over his face.
“For fuck’s sake, have we morphed into teenagers again?” Being telepathically linked was rough sometimes, and the scientists had occasionally compared them to physically conjoined human twins. Two minds, two bodies, twice the sensations.
“And double the fucking trouble,” Cam snapped. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m possessive as hell over her. I’m struggling with that.”
“Yeah, you’re not the only one struggling. Remember, though, it’d be worse if we didn’t share her.”
“Worse for our laundry,” Cam retorted.
Now there was a glimpse of his irrepressible brother. Some of Russ’s tension eased slightly.
“There is that.” Russ paused. “I’m going to drive, okay? You’re short on sleep.”
“I guess I should get a bit of shut-eye.” Cam clapped him on the shoulder as he rose, tacit apology for his behavior. Russ zipped his jeans up and headed for the driver’s seat. The van purred to life—now that was one thing finally going their way, a decent vehicle. Shame about the plane, though.
Then again, they likely wouldn’t have seen the female Barks if they’d gone straight for the Complex. Russ was glad he had been able to observe them in person rather than relying on secondhand information. He’d always learned better through experience. Studying theory was no match for hands-on knowledge.
His commtab had been buzzing since the wee hours, news and rumors all mixed up together. There had been two confirmed spaceship landings, one near Columbus, the other in Northern California. Rumors placed another female ship near Dallas, another near Missoula in Montana. It was almost as if the aliens had collaborated to spread themselves out evenly throughout the country, if not the world.
Was that even possible? Did those undulating dog-shark bastards have the mental capacity for that kind of thinking?
Russ concentrated on the road for a while, mulling that thought over in the back of his head. Cam was zonked by now, spread out on the middle bench seat. In the rear, Abby’s eyes were closed, although the slight tension in her body made him think she was still awake.
His heart seemed to twinge every time he looked at her, as if it were melting around the edges. She’d been so soft, so sweet, lying there with an open invitation on her face. Russ gripped the steering wheel, reliving the moment he’d slid inside her.
Yeah, that had been worth the wait.
On the other hand, he craved Abby with an intensity that almost frightened him.
Addiction scared Russ. He’d seen his human brother—stepbrother, technically—fall into a drug-addled abyss back in the pre-Invasion days when coke was available on the street corner. Russ had tried the drug once, snorting it up for a high so powerful he never wanted to come down. He’d been able to walk away—barely—but Joe couldn’t.
Joe had died before the Invasion. It was a mercy, his foster parents had said, that Joe never had to suffer the pangs of withdrawal. It would have been more of a damn mercy if he’d never gotten hooked in the first place.
Even now, illegal drugs still proliferated in Cities. Mostly Turq, an easily manufactured synthetic that addicts huffed in small plastic bags. It lent them a long, floaty high, leaving them in a semi-daze for hours on end.
Russ steered clear of it all. If he was tempted once, what was to stop him from being tempted again?
Maybe that attitude spilled over into how he acted around women. Shifting his attention between individuals, never falling for one specific person, never letting them do more than give him a quick blowjob—all of that ensured Russ would never become addicted.
If someone had told him at the beginning of the mission that he’d fall for the woman he was meant to rescue, he would have laughed.
If he’d been told he and his brother would fall for the same woman…
I would’ve fucking punched them.
Guiltily, he flicked a look at the rear-view mirror. His vociferous thought made Cam stir, but the other man didn’t wake. That was good—Cam had spent the last six months pretty much bailing Russ out, smoothing over harsh words or ruffled feelings and running interference between Russ and their superiors whenever necessary. They wouldn’t have gotten this mission if it hadn’t been for Cam’s flying skills. They’d have sent more compliant Twins.
Russ hadn’t pulled anything serious—nothing more than toeing the line by questioning some of the orders they’d been given. Certainly there were more rebellious Twins. Some had absconded altogether, leaving their badges behind as they fled the Complex altogether. Rumors flew, of course. Russ didn’t believe all the AWOL Twins had joined the Shadow Feds—that would be like jumping from one frying pan to another.
He did put some stock in the idea that some men had formed a kind of Complex of their own, a ranch way out in the wilds of Wyoming. More power to those men. He hoped it was true, that they were living in peace, unfettered by the various commands the government inflicted upon them.
Then there were others, like the Italian Triplets, who prowled the edges of disobedience, never quite going over into court martial territory
yet keeping their superiors on their toes. And there were plenty more on the level below, men who he sensed would protest if given a slight push. Finn and Gareth sprang to mind—the latter had attended meetings where they’d discussed independence.
Now that they had a woman of their own, flouting the no long-term relationships command, Russ resolved to seek their advice. Abby was going to live with them at the Complex. He would entertain no argument on that front.
The idea gave him a measure of peace for the first time in over a year. He studied Abby in the rear-view mirror, noting the way her chest rose and fell rhythmically, suggesting she was finally truly asleep. He turned his attention back to the road, taking care to drive around the larger potholes. The van actually weathered the smaller bumps pretty well. Not that it was a suitable trade-off for the airplane.
Then again, Abby might have been whisked away as soon as they’d reached the Complex. They’d likely never have gotten past the initial animal attraction.
Then he’d have dreamed of her for the rest of his life, always wondering what might have been.
Cam was the one who was comfortable with women. He found it easy to talk to anyone, to slip away with a fling into the shadows for a quickie. He’d always warn Russ before anything serious happened, of course. That way Russ had the time to prepare.
Not that he always blew his load when his brother did. But being connected was like having a ghost body, so he’d spent too many times helplessly jacking off in the bathroom. To have a woman they could share, a woman who belonged with them…
Cart ahead of the goddamn horse. Russ breathed out a long, silent sigh. They needed to deal with a whole bunch of shit before anything else. Cam had jealousy issues, Russ needed time to get used to having an actual relationship, and Abby was being pursued by a group of ruthless bastards.
The latter was something Russ was confident he could deal with.
Over the past few years, he’d developed something of a reputation as a fighter, enough that his superiors knew they could rely on him for the more violent missions. He’d relished those assignments up until a few months ago. Then he had begun to realize the violence was slowly, inexorably changing him.
