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Sharing Samantha

Page 6

by Madison Faye


  “Make me come!” I scream into his mouth. “Please make me fucking—oh FUCK.”

  The both of them drive in hard and deep, grinding into me as their two muscled, hard bodies press me between them. And it’s the last I can take.

  I twist, crushing my mouth to Gavin’s again as the orgasm thunders through me. I writhe, twisting between them, shaking and shuddering and quaking as the climax blows through me. The both of them roar, growling, grunting as they thrust into me again and again, fucking me right through my orgasm until suddenly, they’re falling over with me.

  “Take my cum,” Gavin groans, hissing as he plunges deep inside of me and lets go. I can feel his hot cum blasting into me, filling me just as Reece grunts behind me and buries every inch of his cock up my ass as he pulses deep.

  “Take us both, love,” he hisses into my ear. “Take us both.”

  He groans, I feel his balls twitch against me, and suddenly, I feel spurt after thick spurt of him blasting into me. He grunts, pumping his cum deep into my ass as Gavin does the same to my pussy. I scream in pleasure, shuddering between them as they grip me tight. They groan, planting kisses against my skin as they push in, letting the last drops of cum leak out of them and into me.

  And then it’s just white light and this warm feeling that melts over me like a blanket. I moan quietly, shaking, trembling and trying to catch my breath as my pulse thunders through me. Gavin and Reece slow to a stop, still inside of me, still filling me entirely, but letting us all three rest. My mouth hungrily kisses Gavin, and then Reece, and then Gavin again, and then Reece, until it’s just a blur of kissing both of these amazing men.

  “So, that was fucking amazing,” I mumble out, this big dopey smile on my face. Reece chuckles, kissing my neck.

  “And here I thought the stuffing wasn’t until tomorrow's dinner.”

  I snort, giggling.

  Gavin rolls his eyes.

  “Great joke,” he says dryly, grinning at his friend over my shoulder.

  “Hey I thought it was hilarious,” I snort.

  “Yeah?” Gavin smiles at me. “I mean, I would have gone with more of an ‘extra gravy’ angle.”

  We all crack up again, laughing until we all go limp across the bed, just resting and letting the heat of each other melt through us.

  But then, I start giggling again.

  “You got another one?”

  I shake my head, turning to look at each of them.

  “No, I was just thinking how much effort it’s going to take to restrain myself tomorrow when Lynn makes me say what I’m thankful for.”

  They both laugh, pulling me into them as they both move in to kiss me.

  Chapter 9

  Gavin

  The three of us are laughing as we stumble up the basement stairs, heading to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat after the marathon screw fest. I grin, and when I realize I’m happier in this moment than I’ve been in, well, ever, it makes my heart swell up.

  …It’s all because of her, too.

  I glance at Reece, and I know I see the same feeling there. We’re both happy, and shit, that’s not something we’re used to. Life’s been rough for us. And even when we made something of ourselves, and got ourselves to the level we’re at now where we have money and want for nothing, it’s not like we’re truly happy.

  Except right now, with her? You bet your ass we are. Right now, it’s like we’re walking on fucking air. The thought occurs to me too that this is the first Thanksgiving I’m actually enjoying, and I grin as I slide my arm around her, pulling her tight as I push her against the door frame at the top of the stairs and kiss her fiercely.

  Reece and I are in boxers and t-shirts, and Samantha’s back in her robe. And fuck, I just want to tear that thing off of her and take her again, right here on the damn kitchen floor.

  She moans hungrily as I kiss her, and my cock throbs. Reece moves in and pulls her from me, and I can’t help but grin, knowing if it was any other guy, he’d be head-first back down the stairs. But with my best friend, it’s all part of this craziness. With Reece, watching him snatch her away to claim that mouth for himself doesn’t get me jealous, or angry. It gets me fucking hard. And shit, I know there’s going to be some other time when he’s kissing her where I’ll swoop in and snatch her away.

  Actually, something tells me there’s going to be a lot of that.

  Because the truth of it is, I see a future with her. I know how fucking nuts that sounds, on so many levels, but it’s there. I know being with Samantha—both of us, that is, and openly—means a world of shit. It means weird looks from people who won’t be able to see what this is—people who won’t be able to wrap their head around both of us loving her, and both of us sharing.

  Beyond that though, it means we can kiss Martin and his hedge fund goodbye. Us being with Samantha means that guy is going to lose his shit.

  …But it’s worth it. It’s worth it without even having to think about it.

  “Get in here,” Samantha whispers, her voice husky as she turns, grabbing me by the collar of my t-shirt, and yanking me close. I growl, kissing her as Reece moves to her neck, and when I feel her hand slide into my shorts and wrap around my half-hard cock, I groan. My fingers tug at the tie holding her robe shut, and I can feel Reece doing the same. And we’re just about to pull it off of her, drag her onto the kitchen counter and have a Thanksgiving feast of our own, when suddenly, the fucking lights turn on.

  Oh shit.

  “You. Fucking. Whore!”

  Martin’s voice is savage and booming, and slurred. I swear, Reece and I whirling and moving between him and Samantha on instinct. She gasps behind us, yanking her robe closed as we level our eyes at a furious looking Martin.

  “You little fucking who—”

  “Watch it,” I growl, warning and fire in my voice as I bare my teeth at him.

  His face goes crimson, his eyes bulging in rage as he whips his gaze to me.

  “You!” he snarls. “You two fucking pricks!”

  “You need to calm down, Martin,” Reece growls lowly.

  “Calm down?! Calm down?!” he seethes, the beer bottle—and who the hell knows where he got that in this house—in his hand slushing beer across the floor.

  “No, asshole, I don’t need to calm. I’m not gonna be chill. What I’m going to do though is fucking torpedo this fucking deal of yours. You got that?!” he screams. “No algorithm, you little shitheads!”

  “Fine,” I growl, glancing at Reece, and nodding when he gives me the same look back.

  Yeah, things officially just went sideways, and something tells me, we’re no longer invited to dinner tomorrow.

  Boo-hoo.

  “Yeah, fine,” he sneers. “Fine. Fine like I’m going to have your asses blacklisted across the whole industry. How’s that work for you?”

  “You’re a real asshole, Martin,” Samantha spits. “You know that?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, you stupid little slu—”

  “Watch. It.” Reece’s voice booms across the kitchen. “You open your mouth to her again and I swear I’ll shut it for you,” he snarls.

  “Oh fuck off!” Martin roars. “You two little scavengers come in here to my mother’s house, you fuck up my buddy’s car, you put your hands on what’s mine—”

  “I have never and would never in a million years be yours, Martin!” Samantha snaps, her eyes blazing fire.

  “Step isn’t related!” he bellows.

  Oh, this is going off the rails fast.

  Samantha rolls her eyes. “Right, that’s why I’ve never slept with you, Martin.” She glares at him. “Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re a slimy douchebag?”

  A red mist clouds across Martin’s face, and I glance at Reece and nod. Yep, it’s time to get the fuck out of here. And we’re not leaving empty handed.

  “Get the fuck out of—”

  “Mr. McCue?” Reece smiles sarcastically at Martin. “I’m afraid my partner and I don’t
feel that our companies are a good fit.”

  “No shit, fuck head!” Martin sputters. He roars, lunging at us and swinging his half-empty beer bottle like a club. But, we’re both much bigger than him. And much faster. And not wasted. Martin squeals as we both catch him with our hands, Reece wrenching the bottle from him, me sinking a fist into his gut, and the both of us shoving him toppling over onto the floor.

  I turn towards Samantha, a look of shock and humor on her face. “How fast can you pack?”

  “I never really unpacked. Why?”

  “Because you’re coming with us.”

  She grins, her face going red as she nods.

  “No! She stays!” Martin blubbers on the floor of the kitchen.

  “The fuck she does,” Reece growls, before he turns to her. “I mean, unless you want?

  Samantha snorts. “Oh, right, yeah. Please can I stay?”

  Reece grins. “Your bag upstairs?”

  She nods.

  “Stay here.”

  I turn, glaring at Martin in silence as I hear Reece thunder upstairs. There’s a commotion, and something that sounds like Lynn screeching. But soon enough, Reece is storming back through the kitchen with her things.

  “Shall we?”

  “Absolutely,” she grins.

  It takes us thirty seconds to grab our stuff from downstairs and slip some pants on, and then we’re gone. Lynn is screaming, threatening to call the cops. Martin is threatening to sue us.

  …None of us are listening to them as we march out to the Jeep I drove up here in and get inside.

  The engine rumbles on, the heat blasts out of the vents, and Samantha shivers, grinning as she sits between us on the bench seat, still in her robe.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “Back to the city.”

  I shove the Jeep into drive, snorting as Martin comes shuffling out the backdoor and starts trying to throw snowballs at us.

  “We’ve got a loft,” Reece says, rubbing his bare arms as the heat kicks on.

  “You two live together?”

  I nod. “And you’re in the city too, right?”

  Samantha makes a face. “Actually, my place is condemned?”

  We all laugh, Reece leaning in to kiss her as I slide my arm around her.

  “We weren’t planning on letting you go back to your place anyways, you know,” Reece says quietly

  “Oh really?” She grins, biting her lip.

  “Nah,” I shake my head. “We’ve got two big beds.”

  She blushes, her eyes blazing with heat. “And I supposed I can take my pick every night?”

  “Yeah, you can.”

  “Or, we can all share one,” Reece growls.

  “That sounds good,” she breathes.

  I take the jeep up the on-ramp to the highway, the heat turns up, the radio plays maybe the first Christmas song of the year. Reece and I both seem to realize she’s still just wearing a robe at the same time, and when we each slide a hand onto one of her bare thighs and bring a gasp of pleasure to her lips, we both grin.

  You know what? Maybe Thanksgiving ain’t all bad. Or maybe, we just had to find the right person to share it with. Either way, as I drive into the night down the mostly empty highway, and as I listen to the sound of Samantha moaning so sweetly as Reece pushes her legs apart and moves his mouth up her thighs to her pussy, and as her fingers tug down my zipper and reach inside to curl around my cock, I know one thing.

  I know damn well what I’m thankful for.

  Epilogue

  Reece

  Gavin was right. It wasn’t that the holiday itself sucked, it’s just that we never got a good one. We’d always been bitter about the families we’d never had. And a holiday like that always drove that in harder.

  But that was before Samantha. That was before we both found the woman of our dreams. The girl we loved. The soulmate to tie us all together.

  Samantha moved in. That night. And we never went back. We ordered in that next day—got a turkey and all the sides and everything delivered right to our loft door. And then it got a little cold, because the three of us decided to work up an appetite first over every single surface of our place.

  …For about ten hours.

  Martin did try and sue us. He failed, of course, because in the end, cretinous douchebags like that are all bravado and no real balls. It didn’t take much convincing from us or our law team to convince Martin that suing us was not in his best interests. He still tried to “blacklist” us, but then, money talks. And money talks a whole fucking lot louder than a little shit like him.

  It turns out, there were many other hedge funds out there who were eying our algorithm. And when we cut ties with Prism, they all wanted a piece of us. We ended up selling for three times what we’d discussed with Martin, and word spread fast. Pretty soon, we were building more software for more funds, and a year later, well, things are fantastic.

  Oh, and we’re a three-person team now. Because it turns out, Samantha is one hell of a developer. We expanded our loft into four others in the building, taking over a whole floor twenty stories above SoHo, and it’s where we live and where we all work, together. And wouldn’t you know it, we do actually get work done from time to time. Well, sometimes. There might be some wisdom to moving our offices somewhere else and hiring some actual employees to keep around, if anything to discourage us from screwing all over each other’s desks all the damn time.

  But, where’s the fun in that?

  So in end, we found the magic everyone was always saying they found in Thanksgiving. Because we found family, in her. And year later, we’re about to sit down for that holiday all over again. I’m cooking my first ever turkey. Gavin’s trying his hand at cranberry sauce, but I’m not holding my breath. Samantha says she’s in charge of dessert and that she’s got “pie” for us. But, something about that glint in her eyes as me thinking it’s not pumpkin or apple.

  …I’m pretty sure I’m going to fucking devour it too, until she’s screaming for more.

  So here we all are.

  We got the girl.

  We got our happy ending.

  And damn are we thankful for that.

  The End.

  Also by Madison Faye

  Standalones:

  Claiming Candy

  Trick And Treat

  Sugar & Spice

  Five Card Studs

  Dear Stepbrother, I Want You

  Sugar County Boys:

  Bucking Bronco

  Long Hard Truckers

  Rough Rider

  Country Liquor

  Breaking His Law

  Blackthorn Mountain Men:

  Claiming His Mountain Bride

  His Captive Mountain Virgin

  Her Mountain Baby Daddies

  His Big Mountain Axe

  His Hard Mountain Wood

  Her Rough Mountain Outlaw

  Blackthorn Mountain #7 (December 2018)

  Sofa King:

  Sofa King Hard

  Sofa King Wrong (December 2018)

  Royally Screwed:

  King Sized

  Royal Brat

  Daddy Duke

  Prick Charming

  Filthy Ever After

  Once Upon A Scandal

  Royally Screwed #7 (January, 2019)

  Her Daddies:

  Double Daddies

  Triple Daddies

  Bad Medicine Series:

  Doctor Babymaker

  Doctor O-Maker

  “Dirty Bad Things” Series:

  Hard Core

  Pretty Dirty

  Rough Stuff

  “Innocence Claimed” Series:

  His Little Bad Girl

  Tempting Daddy’s Boss

  Paying The Debt

  “The Triple Crown Club” Series:

  Royally Shared

  Royally Claimed

  Royally Tempted

  “Possessing Beauty” Series:

  Beasting Beauty

&nb
sp; Stealing Beauty

  Sharing Beauty

  Hunting Beauty

  Possessing Beauty

  “Forbidden” Series:

  Flirting With The Law

  Breaking Her Innocence

  “Three Times” Series:

  Bossed Three Times

  Taken Three Times

  Paid For Three Times

  “Twice” Series:

  Twice Driven

  Twice Bossed

  Twice Tackled

  “First Time” Series:

  Legal

  Professor

  Freshman

  Mailing List

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  About the Author

  USA Today and #1 Amazon bestselling contemporary romance author Madison Faye is the dirty alter ego of the very wholesome, very normal suburban housewife behind the stories. While she might be a wife, mom, and PTA organizer on the outside, there’s nothing but hot, steamy, and raunchy fantasies brewing right beneath the surface!

  Tired of keeping them hidden inside or only having them come out in the bedroom, they’re all here in the form of some wickedly hot stories. Single-minded alpha heroes, sinfully taboo relationships, and wildly over-the-top scenarios. If you love it extra dirty, extra hot, and extra naughty, this is the place for you!

  (Just don’t tell the other PTA members you saw her here…)

  @madisonfayesmut

  MadisonFayeRomance

 

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