by Tate James
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice was screaming at me that this was a terrible idea, but I told the frigid bitch to shut the fuck up. We were way past the point of stopping as my body pumped pure estrogen instead of blood.
The blonde elemental hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my boy shorts, sliding them down to pool at my feet, before hoisting me up to perch on the edge of the sink. My heated flesh met the cool ceramic of the vanity and I sucked a gasp against Reg's mouth before spreading my knees wide to give his roving hands access to my rising damp.
“Well, well, well, what have we here, dirty girl?” His fingers had just encountered the little bar of metal pierced through my clitoral hood, and he flicked it firmly, making me groan as my eyes rolled back in my head.
It had been on a drunken night out with Britt, of course, that she had convinced me to get my clit pierced. The fucking thing had hurt like an absolute venomous tit-kicking bitch going in but damn I loved it now.
“I think I'm going to need a closer look at this,” Reg murmured, kissing his way down my neck then dropping to his knees between my legs. His warm breath feathered over my pierced flesh and I dropped my head back to rest on the mirror, sighing with pleasure and anticipation.
While I waited impatiently for him to make his move, the shower shut off and the bathroom echoed with the distinctive rattle of my shower curtain yanking open.
Ugh, Ari, you fucking moron. How did you not notice there was someone already in the shower?
My eyes snapped open and met Shane's smoldering gaze as he stood there in my shower, naked, dripping and very turned-on.
Reg deliberately took advantage of my distraction and seized my piercing between his teeth, lightly tugging at it while his fingers slid into my leaky faucet.
Okay, reality check—if for some strange reason I ever decided to actually date these guys, they were getting new professions. The puns were out of control.
“Holy shit,” I groaned as I relaxed into the elemental’s touch. That was when it really struck me—this guy was not human. All the men I’d ever been with used their fingers like hammers, ramming my special place like they were in a marathon.
But Reg, the asshole? He finessed me with hooked fingertips, teasing my G-spot into a swollen frenzy, activating parts of me that had lain dormant for far, far, far too long.
“Well, shoot,” Shane said, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at me like watching his buddy go down on a girl was not a particularly new phenomenon. Whatever. I didn’t care—having them both in the bathroom with me wasn’t just twice as hot. It was like surface of the sun sexy. “Looks like somebody’s in a much better mood than they were last night.”
“Hey Skeeter,” Reg said, lifting his head up briefly but continuing to work me with fingers dipped in ink. I hadn’t paid much attention to them before, but the cascade of color down his arm trailed right onto those magical fingers and inside of me. It was hard not to notice when they were quickly and efficiently bringing me to orgasm. “How many plumbers does it take to make a shimmer climax?”
“Shit, Reg,” he said, stepping out of the shower and bringing both his gloriously erect cock and dripping wet muscles close enough to touch. Like Reg, he was tattooed, too—and in all the right places. Images decorated his bare chest and shoulders, drawing my eye to all the best, most masculine parts of him. And I mean all the masculine parts. He even had ink on his junk. “I’d have to say two should suffice.”
Shane stepped up close to the side of the counter and turned my face toward his with a warm, wet hand.
“No runes,” I gasped out, the very idea of language quickly becoming anathema to me. What were words for again? Why did words matter? They just fucking didn’t when I had two otherworldly studs doing their best to woo me. “No magic.”
“Oh, shush up,” Shane whispered, capturing my mouth with his. Later on, I was going to beat his ass for that comment, but for right now… Dear god, right now I’d have let these guys get away with murder.
Our tongues tangled in a dangerous frenzy, spurred on by the almost painfully pleasurable curve of Reg’s fingers and the wicked burn of his lips against my clitoral hood piercing.
Best drunken mistake I ever made.
My gasps filled Shane’s mouth the same way his tongue filled mine, and I knew without a doubt that I was close—a hell of a lot closer than I’d been in my months long dry spell. But I didn’t want it to end that quick…or right there.
Crap.
Stopping at foreplay for me was like asking an alcoholic to only have one drink.
I was addicted.
And I didn’t want to stop.
I can’t believe I’m going to screw the plumber—how cliché, I thought, but the deed was already halfway to being done. My climax snuck up on me, curling up from my clit and gathering in my belly in an unstoppable wave. Before I knew it, I was panting and fighting back a scream as I dug my nails into Reg’s head and sucked Shane’s lip into my mouth, biting down hard enough that I tasted blood.
“Shit,” I whispered, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, “shit, shit, shit.”
“It’s okay, honey doll,” Shane whispered, brushing hair back from my sweaty face. “We’re not human—and we don’t have human diseases.”
“Like I haven’t heard that line before,” I said, wiping off my tongue with the palm of my hand and trying to ignore the violent, angry throbbing inside of me. More, more, more it said. Greedy bitch, I told my cunt.
But then Reg was rising to his feet and pushing his holey jeans down his hips, letting them fall to the floor in a pool of denim.
“Well, shimmer,” he said, and there was just something about the way that word rolled off the arrogant twist of his lips that turned me on like crazy. “What’ll it be next?”
I just stared at him, completely and utterly out of my comfort zone.
One, I’d never screwed the handyman before.
Two, I’d definitely never screwed two handymen before.
And three … well fuck three, this was happening.
“Condoms?” I asked and the two idiots looked at each other like I was the stupid one.
“We don’t need condoms,” Reg spat and Shane grinned. “Remember, runes and magic? Only way to get pregnant. Besides, you’re a human, we’d have to mark you first.”
“Oh, yeah, and that makes perfect sense.” But those words came out in a breathy rush as Reg grabbed me by the hips and pulled me off the counter. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his muscular body and held on for dear life.
And oh, that was so not a chore at all.
Shane stepped up behind me, penning me in between the two hot, hard bodies. Thank god my Gram’s house had bathrooms the size of my entire apartment (the one I’d been evicted from).
“I don’t … I’ve never done this particular, um, activity before,” I said, but all I got were two masculine laughs in response.
“No anal?” Reg asked, quirking a brow. “Come on, Ari, don’t try to trick a trickster.”
“Fuck you,” I said, but then… “I threw all my shit in the drawers when I moved in. Check the one on the right.”
In a New York minute, Shane had the lube in his hand and was slicking it along the length of his cock. I couldn’t actually see anything but Reg’s smirking face, but I could sure as hell hear the wet pumping of his fist.
“You ready, sugar?” he asked me in that deep Southern drawl of his.
“God, yes,” I purred—purred?! since when do I ever purr—and felt Shane’s hands on my ass. Like a boss, he helped guide the thick, hard length of Reg’s cock inside of me. My gasp, that said it all. “Fuck me running,” I whispered, but what few words I could manage to push out past lips swollen from kissing were cut right off when Shane entered me.
Slow and easy, he took me first with one finger, then two. When he got to three, I felt my body go completely limp.
Good thing I had two supernatural hotties to hold me up
.
Shane moved nice and gentle inside of me, working my body up to take his cock.
“Ready, sugar?“ he chuckled in my ear and I growled into Reg's neck where I was resting my face.
“Quit dicking around and fuck me already, Shane!” The words came out in more of a wanton moan than the sassy snap I'd intended but who the fuck cared, I was in dick heaven right now.
Reg shifted his hold on my thighs, so he was both holding me up and spreading my cheeks for his buddy. Shane didn't need to be told twice and I heard the slick slide of his hand stroking lube down his cock once more before the thick head pressed against my storm water drain.
Argh, now I couldn't stop the plumbing jokes even in my head!
Exhaling a long breath, I tried not to faint from sheer overwhelming pleasure as my body was stretched in ways it never had been before.
“Jesus Christ, Shane,” I hissed when I eventually managed to suck in a breath, and he chuckled. Darting a confused look at Reg, all I got back was a broad grin that told me nothing.
“I'm not even halfway in yet, honey doll.” Shane's southern drawl rolled over me and I moaned loudly as he pressed in deeper, then deeper, and then deeper still.
After what felt like an eternity, albeit a fucking fantastic eternity, he finally bottomed out with his rock hard abs pressed tight against my back.
“Now I'm in,” he panted, wrapping his own hands under my thighs to assist Reg in holding me aloft. They began to move in and out, their synchronization nearly flawless, their cocks compressing that thin layer of flesh between my pussy and my ass. It was a massage of the best kind, two thick hard shafts stimulating a bundle of raw nerves.
Biting my lip hard, I held back porn worthy whimpers of pleasure, all coherent thoughts abandoning my brain for greener, sexier pastures. Waves of ecstasy rolled over me, dragging me under as I dropped my head back to rest on Shane's broad, wet chest. I could feel his breath stirring my hair, the faint scents of mint toothpaste and floral shampoo mixing in the steamy air.
Far too quickly I felt another earth-shattering orgasm building and I knew that trying to hold it off would be like trying to sandbag a tsunami. Muscles clenching hard, I shifted my weight forward to rest on Reg, and as my climax thundered through me, I sank my teeth into his shoulder in order to stifle my scream.
“Oh fuck,” Shane hissed, at the same time as Reg cursed something unintelligible and their thrusting picked up pace, never once losing the rhythm as they reached their own orgasms. Definitely not human—they had far too much skill and stamina.
For a moment, we were all frozen on the spot, hearts racing, trying to catch our breath until the bathroom door flew open so hard it practically fell off its hinges.
“Ah hah! I knew it!” Britt crowed, with the biggest grin I think I'd ever seen on her face. “I told you I could smell sex! Damn girl, look at you just taking it like a pro or some shit.”
“Fucking werewolves,” Shane muttered, still lodged firmly inside my ass. “Furball darlin', do you mind? You're letting a draft in.”
“Well isn't this an interesting turn of events?” Billy leered as he appeared in the doorway behind my best friend. It ought to be a crime how good looking that man managed to look at this hour of the morning. His charcoal gray hair was artfully disheveled and his eyes were like hot coals as they seared a path all over my skin where he inspected me.
“Come on guys, give them some privacy—this time.” George, ever the voice of reason, coaxed. He dragged a very reluctant Britt out of the doorway then returned to pull the door shut, but not before raking his own tree bark brown eyes all over us in our precarious position.
“Uh guys?” I prompted, once the door was closed once more but no one moved. “You can let me down now.”
“Yes, I suppose we can,” Reg murmured, then stole one more kiss from my swollen lips before sliding free of my body and easing my shaking legs to the floor when Shane also withdrew his industrial sized wrench from my S-bend.
For lack of anything intelligent to say, I cleared my throat awkwardly—because what the fuck did one say to the two supernatural plumbers who had pounded both my drains less than twenty four hours after we met?
“Well, good thing the shower's working …” I nervously backed toward the bathtub while Shane and Reg watched me like predators, their eyes hot and their dicks hardening once more.
Nope. Definitely not human. Where the fuck were their refractory periods?!
“No!” I scolded, suddenly finding the mental fortitude that I must have dropped here earlier when my inner sex fiend had taken over. “I am going to wash up—alone—and then we're going to discuss how to get me out of this mess that you all caused.”
Stepping into the tub, I quickly whipped the curtain closed before I could be tempted again by those otherworldly bodies and ended up dragging them both in here for round two under my newly restored water pressure.
“Alright, sweet thing, we'll just meet you in the kitchen then?“ Shane very wisely responded. “How do you like your coffee?”
Good old Southern manners.
“Britt knows,“ I responded, stepping under the hot water and lathering up some soap between my hands. There was a whole lot of bodily fluid slicking down my thighs that needed cleaning up.
“Give us a yell if you need help scrubbing your back, ST,” Reg snickered, “or just if you want to play hide the plunger again.” Then the fucking asshole snaked a hand through the shower curtain and slapped me on the ass before following his buddy out of the room and leaving me in peace.
What the ever loving fuck had I just done? I mean, aside from the incredible double-teaming threesome that'd left me totally and utterly ruined for any human man, ever again.
Thank Christ neither of them had started chanting anything or drawing runes on me while we fucked, because I would not have been in any position to stop them.
Unless Reg was making that shit up. Fuck, what if Reg was making that shit up? Had I just been played?
Nah. Nah. There was no way.
Right? Right?!
I decided it would just bother me if I found out I’d been ‘marked’ and besides—it was too goddamn early in the morning to ask. I would worry about that bit later. Avoiding legit problems was kind of my thing. Plus, you know, orgasmic afterglow and all that.
“Thank you, hun,” I said to Britt as I accepted a mug with a picture of a fox that said For Fox Sake, only you know, with the picture of the animal instead of the word. It was a euphemism for fuck, in case you’d missed that.
I took a sip, assuming Britt’s sniggering a-hole face was just about the whole ‘caught you getting double-teamed in your Gram’s bathroom’ thing.
But nope.
“Gawd,” I gagged as I practically choked on a mouthful of whiskey. “You spiked my coffee?!”
“Hair of the dog,” Britt said and then her eyes lit up. “Get it?! Because I’m a werewolf it’s extra funny.”
“Is it even funnier if I call you a bitch?” I said, but she just glared at me.
“No, actually, that makes you sexist.”
I rolled my eyes and ignored her, padding into the main living room area where all four men were sitting. I tried to pretend like two of them hadn’t just snaked my pipes, but that was damn near impossible. Just looking at them got my water flowing all over again, if you catch my drift.
“Alright, rent is due … today,” I said, glancing up at the crumbling ceiling and admiring the old, rusted tin tiles. If these dickwads actually paid up, maybe I’d have enough money to fix up the old place? “And every thirty days after that—plus a security deposit.”
I dropped my chin to look at the guys.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Reg asked, lounging on my couch like he owned the place. Apparently that’s what he did best—lounge. He just draped himself over everything like it belonged to him—including me.
“Non-refundable security deposit is what I meant to say,” I continued, taking in a deep b
reath. “Considering you all can turn into, like, elemental things, I need to have a nest egg in case you set something on fire or cause water damage or … whatever air and earth elementals do.”
“I could regrow all the tree roots in your pipes again?” George said, slicking a hand back through his woody brown hair. He was the only one of the four that wasn’t covered in tattoos—just a single tree of life in black on his right bicep. I couldn’t stop staring at it.
“Money,” I said, taking another large gulp of my more-whiskey-than-coffee coffee. “Five hundred each—”
“That’s in Australian pesos,” Britt said, and I felt my lips purse. I didn’t bother to correct her—some things just weren’t worth arguing about. “Or whatever it is they use down there.”
“And … a thousand each for security deposits.”
“Sugar,” Shane said, eyeing me up and down in a way that would’ve been criminal if he didn’t look all Southern and cute and whatnot. The fact that he'd just unclogged the wad of celibacy I'd been harboring for months didn't hurt much either. “Honestly, that plumbing job we just did was worth about seventeen grand …”
“That’s right,” Reg continued, snapping his fingers while Billy smirked quietly in the corner. I tried not to look at the bite mark etched into the perfect curve of his shoulder, right above a stylized anchor tattoo. For some reason, I felt much less amicable toward him than I did Shane—more than likely that's because he was a prick. “In fact, you owe us money.”
“I never signed anything,” I said indignantly and Reg grinned.
“Neither did we,” he replied, just as smoothly. See, prick.
“The fact is,” Shane continued, and I got the sense that he was sort of the ‘leader’ of the group, “we’re not exactly wealthy, you understand.”
“Oh, you didn’t just get one scrub, but four of them,” Britt inserted, not at all helpfully.
“You’re poor?” I asked, and I felt this sinking feeling inside my stomach. If I was going to have to entertain four elemental men in my life, I just sort of assumed they’d be wealthy, like vampires or something, stashing money away centuries ago and living off the interest.
