Penny: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 2)

by Ellie Masters

  And I want to serve them as theirs.

  "Do you mind if we still go out and eat?" My stomach rumbles.

  "Do you have the time?" He pulls out and slowly unfastens his belt from around my wrists.

  "I always have time for you."

  He kisses my cheek. "Good. I asked Eric to join us."

  "Is he going to be mad we're running late?" I cringe at the thought of keeping my Master waiting.

  Thomas gives a snort. "No. He knows I'm fucking your brains out. We'll be right on time."

  I squirm a little thinking about the two of them talking about fucking me. A year ago, when I started seeing Thomas, it was a little uncomfortable, but Thomas and Eric seemed to have embraced my needs.

  I love Eric. He's my Master and I adore everything about him. I've fallen in love with Thomas. What started as an exploration is now something I can't imagine living without.

  I love my men, but I want more.

  I want them both…together…mastering me.

  That is in their hands, and tonight they'll either take that step or they won't.

  Chapter 2

  Because it's Friday, and the night of the auction and charity event at The Ties that Bind, I close down shop early.

  I need to prepare for tonight.

  Jax is boarding with us over the weekend and I have a night staff who will come and check on him as well as our other boarders. Which leaves me with the rest of the day off.

  I skip a little when I see Thomas brought his Ducati. Super sleek, the Italian sport bike is a collision of flowing lines and sex appeal.

  It's loud. It rumbles. And it vibrates between my legs.

  It's sexy as sin, but nothing compared to the man who masters the powerful beast.

  Riding on the back of Thomas' bike is the next best thing to riding Thomas during sex.

  Eric has a Ducati as well, and it's not uncommon for the two of them to be tearing up the back country roads whenever the spirit takes them.

  "I thought you'd enjoy a ride." Thomas lifts my helmet off the back of his bike and tugs his over his head. He's clad in dark jeans, a leather jacket, and a T-shirt which strains across his muscular chest.

  Women drool over him, but he's all mine.

  He straddles the bike and I climb on behind him where I lean against him and grip him hard. It's no surprise I'm needy again. He fucked me less than ten minutes ago, giving me several mind-blowing orgasms yet I can go for more.

  I cup his groin and stroke his cock. A low groan escapes him.

  "Luv, Eric is waiting."

  "I know."

  He places his hand over mine. "Do you really want to tease your Dom?"

  "No, Sir."

  But I do. I love getting a rise out of both my men. Teasing or not, there's a sense of power flooding through me knowing they want me with as much passion as I want them.

  If Eric wasn't waiting for us, I might drag Thomas back inside and beg for him to use his belt, but I don't. I draw back my hand and clasp it with the other as I hug his waist.

  Truthfully, I'm looking forward to lunch with the two of them. We don't have many of these opportunities, and I need them. I need to see them together, with me, and know they really are okay with this thing we do.

  Because this is a thing I need.

  The Ducati comes to life between my legs. Thomas steers us into traffic and ten minutes later we're pulling up outside Lucci's Pizza Parlor.

  Thomas pulls me along with him. In public, with either of my men, one of them always has his hand on me. They do it to protect me, guide me, and remind me always as to whom I belong.

  Eric is seated in a booth tucked into the back of the pizzeria. It's one of those semicircular booths.

  His eyes light up when he sees me and he scoots out of his seat to stand as Thomas and I approach.

  My steps lighten and my heart warms at the sight of Eric.

  Thomas releases my hand and I practically crash into Eric as I wrap my arms around his neck and lift up on my toes to kiss him.

  It doesn't bother me to see the stares of the few customers inside. We're a little beyond the lunch rush and the restaurant is practically empty.

  Watching me walk in holding Thomas' hand but then leaping into Eric's arms, might draw stares, but it's none of their business.

  "How was your day?" Eric slides a hand down from my waist to cup my ass. He pulls me against him and I'm not surprised at what I feel jabbing at my belly.

  "It was good, Sir."

  Eric is my Master. In private, I only ever call him Master. In public, I use Sir as often as possible. The only time I call him by name is in social situations where it would be confusing to others.

  This thing we do is private. We're not looking for other people's acceptance, but we're sensitive enough not to shove it down their faces.

  He's a handsome man. From the depth of his eyes to the gentleness of his voice, he commands a quiet presence that when underestimated proves lethal for his opponents in court.

  A dark suit frames his muscular body. The tailoring is flawless and takes advantage of his broad shoulders and trim waist to create an imposing presence. The finger-combed messiness of his hair contrasts starkly with the sharpness of his suit, but it works.

  Eric is opinionated, but wickedly smart. He's equally equipped to follow a conversation about sports as he is about philosophy, politics, law and religion. He even holds his own with Thomas when discussing the music industry, which Thomas is killing with his latest release.

  The firm pressure of Eric's hand on the small of my back detonates every nerve in my body. I love the way his voice rolls across my body. It's melodious, relentless, and powerful. No wonder I bow to him.

  He's an irresistible force of nature. When he demanded my heart, I gave it to him without fear. When he demanded my body, I gave that to him as well.

  I'm an incredibly lucky woman to have a fucking hot man who loves me without reservation. With his coal-black eyes and glossy midnight hair, that always looks a little tousled like he just rolled out of bed, he's a lady killer, and the man is all mine.

  But I am not all his.

  He shares me with another.

  In many ways, he and Thomas are exactly alike. They're fierce dominants. Alpha to the core. They're uncompromising in what they want. And they both want me.

  They're night and day.

  Eric is a fierce lawyer, slaying evil in the courtroom every day.

  Thomas is a Country Music god.

  He lives freely, travels the road, and uses the liquid gold of his voice to tear out the hearts of women across the world and hand them their fantasies in the poetic brilliance of the lyrics cut into his songs.

  He's wild and free, a sweeping force of nature propelled by the talent living in his veins. He lives for the world on stage, but in my arms, he finds peace from the screaming crowds.

  No one feature makes Thomas handsome, though the stunning beauty of his eyes comes close. They would be gorgeous any shade, but what strikes me is the strength and fervor in his eyes.

  They're honest, gentle, full of spirit and nobility, and yet can flip in an instant to reveal the feral nature buried deep within his psyche. When the beast within him wakens, wise men run. Women swoon. And I fly apart with his passion until he picks up all the pieces to make me whole again.

  I'm his haven. I'm his release. He swept me off my feet and I've been flying ever since.

  I look between my men; one dark and handsome and the other ruggedly perfect with his dirty blond hair and piercing eyes of the lightest blue.

  Eric releases me and shoves his hand out to Thomas. "Good to see you, bud."

  They have silly nicknames they use for each other. If it's not bud or ass-wipe, it's any number of manly cutdowns.

  "Likewise, bro. How was court?"

  "Intense, but I've got them right where I want them. The jury is eating out of my hand and it's all but won."

  "You're on fucking fire."

  Eric gives a
slight nod. They shake, then lean in for a manly chest bump and slap against the back.

  "It's good to see you, bro'. I'm glad you were able to arrange to take a few days off from your tour. Penny's been missing you and keeping me on my toes."

  We've been fucking like rabbits since Thomas' tour took him from me. It's only a few weeks, but feels like forever. I'm happy to have him home as well.

  Eric turns to me and points at the booth. "In you go, you're sitting between us."

  There's no hesitation on my part. This is exactly where I want to be. I crave to be the middle of an Eric-Thomas sandwich. Only I want it between the sheets rather than in a pizza parlor. I'll settle for sitting between them and fantasize about the other while they talk shop.

  "Have you ordered?" Thomas slides into the other side of the booth while I'm still scooting around to the middle.

  Eric waits for me to move out of the way then retakes his seat.

  "I didn't know how long you'd be fucking her brains out, so no I didn't. I was prepared to wait."

  I blush as Eric speaks about Thomas fucking me as if he's talking about the weather. To say I'm lucky is an understatement.

  I'm the luckiest woman on the planet.

  That these two Alpha males are willing to share me is mind-blowing. That they do it amicably is amazing. That they speak openly about it?

  Yeah, it's weird.

  Gloriously and wonderfully weird.

  It's almost perfect.

  "Penny was greedy with her first orgasm. Came in seconds on my fingers. I think you need to have a conversation with her about control."

  I curse under my breath. Eric will be all over that in a heartbeat. He craves control and I've given him liberty to have free reign with me. Orgasm control isn't something we've explored, but from the wicked gleam in Eric's eyes, I have a feeling I'll be regretting coming so fast on Thomas' fingers.

  I should take my time to enjoy it, but what can I say? I'm a freakin’ nymphomaniac around my men.

  "You spoil our girl and give her what she wants. Sometimes, it's better to make her work for it." Eric's gaze cuts to mine.

  Yeah, I'm screwed. I put my hands in my lap and twist my fingers together trying to figure out a way to thwart Eric's efforts.

  I am greedy. And it doesn't take much to get me going. Eric is all about control, unwavering and absolute control. He pushes me to be an obedient slave and to savor the pleasure he gives. Dominance is as natural as breathing to him, and controlling me is what gets him going.

  I tend to be a bit selfish. Thomas is right. I'm a greedy slut. There's no holding back with either of them. To be honest, it's their fault. I'm helpless when I'm with them.

  I never came from nipple play until they shoved studs in my nipples. Now, I can come from that alone. Before Eric, I never came with a man and suffered through sex. With Eric, I come multiple times. With Thomas? I swear he could look at me, command it, and I would fall apart right there.

  "Our girl is looking uncomfortable with talk about control." Thomas puts his hand over mine, stopping the nervous twisting of my fingers.

  He's right. I was ready to come the moment that bell jangled over my door. I'm like a bitch in heat with both of them.

  And I'm not one damn bit ashamed of it.

  They're talking about me as if I'm not sitting between them, discussing my orgasms in a way that is making me very, very needy. My thighs press together and Thomas gives a low chuckle.

  I squirm in the middle of the booth, sandwiched between two delectable men.

  They appear wholly unconcerned about my distress, but I know they are acutely aware of every breath I take.

  "Problem, Penny?" There's a smirk on Thomas' face I want to slap right off.

  I glare at him.

  "Cat got your tongue?" He slips his finger beneath the edge of my skirt.

  I squirm as his fingers reach around to my inner thigh.

  "I think she's needy right now." Eric glances down at my lap. He sees Thomas' hand and what he's doing to me.

  They're the only ones who do. Our table is draped with a white tablecloth that hides everything but our feet from the rest of the room. Eric moves over until his thigh touches mine.

  I give a hard blink, casting my attention between them. They're both smirking at me and Thomas' fingers are nearly right where I need them to be.

  Our waitress arrives. She pulls out her pad of paper and lifts her pen to scratch out our order.

  "What can I get you?" She smacks her gum as her attention shifts between Thomas and Eric.

  I watch her pupils dilate as she's overcome by them both. I get it, hunny. They do that to me every damn time.

  Eric rattles off our order while Thomas presses the tip of his finger to my clit. It's all I can do not to levitate out of that booth. I'm seconds from coming when the waitress looks at me and Thomas withdraws his hand. I want to throw a fit, but I bite my lip and give the waitress my attention.

  "And what do you want to drink?" The waitress barely pays me any mind. Sandwiched between Eric and Thomas, I'm invisible.

  "She'll have water." Eric always orders for me.

  "Gotcha. Pepperoni pizza, extra pepperoni and a meat lover’s pizza. Three waters. Two beers. Anything else?" She's blinking more than she should while she tries to hold herself together.

  I get it. I really do.

  A squeak escapes me when Eric places his hand on my thigh. His fingers take the nearly similar path Thomas' took.

  "That'll do. Thank you." Eric dismisses the waitress as he presses the pad of his thumb over my clit. He leans over and whispers in my ear. "Now spread your legs. Thomas and I want to play with your pretty pussy."

  Wait! What?

  They've never done that before.

  Chapter 3

  With the way my eyes widen, I'm not surprised by Thomas' laugh. It's low, throaty, and devilishly sinful. I'm a mess of want and need.

  What do I do in response to Eric's command? And don't be mistaken. It was most definitely a command. My legs should be spread from one end of the booth to the other.

  Instead, I do the unthinkable. I clamp my thighs together until my knees touch. Now, his hand is trapped between my legs. That talented finger presses hard against my clit and the tsk tsk tsk Eric gives me sends a shiver of dread through my body.

  I'll pay for that later.

  "Open." His voice is stern and demanding.

  With a swallow, I dutifully spread my legs. Or rather, I put about an inch between my kneecaps.

  Eric reaches up and threads his hand through the hair at my nape and gives a sharp tug. He leans in real close and his breath flutters over my earlobe and into my ear. A chill races down my spine and I brace for what comes next.

  "Open your fucking legs, slave. I will not ask again."

  The dominant tone is my kryptonite and my entire body shakes.

  "Shit, she's fucking trembling." Thomas' rumble of appreciation skitters across my skin.

  I'm trapped between them. I disobeyed my Master. And I'm legit freaking the hell out.

  "Yeah, it's a fucking rush." Eric is proud of his effect on me.

  I don't need another command and I ever so slowly widen the space between my knees. Now that Eric's hand is no longer trapped, he begins to slide his fingers through my wet folds.

  My entire body shakes.

  Then I jump as Thomas places his hand on my knee and yanks it toward him, opening me up for Eric's torture.

  "The key is to keep her on the edge," Eric explains. "Make her beg for it."

  "Master…please, you're killing me." There's no one around, so I feel safe in using Eric's title. I'm also seconds away from an explosive orgasm. I don't know how that will go over here in public. Being quiet isn't exactly my thing.

  Eric withdraws his hand. "I might have if you'd obeyed the first time."

  I give a little whimper of frustration. I was close and he knows it.

  Bastard.

  "Hm, let me try that." Tho
mas' hand is on the move.

  They're both being incredibly discreet and it doesn't escape my attention that one of them is watching while the other plays.

  I buck and knock my knee against Eric's thigh when Thomas' finger locates my clit and gives it a little flick. Biting my lower lip, I'm trying not to moan. His fingers follow where Eric's went, delving between my folds and sliding inside.

  I begin to pant as he strokes me. My orgasm builds, but before it can crest, the waitress returns.

  Thomas removes his hand and forces me to watch as he places his finger along his upper lip. He takes in a slow inhale and his eyes close. Then he drags his finger over his lips and takes a taste of me.

  "Delicious."

  The waitress watches the whole thing, but her eyes pinch with confusion. She's only bringing our water and the guys’ beer.

  "Thank you." Eric slides his glass in front of him and hands mine to me. "Penny, you look like you could use a sip."

  I narrow my eyes and reach for the glass. "Yes, I think so. I'm incredibly parched. Dry like the Sahara." I'm not beyond snarky comments.

  "Really?" Thomas lifts a brow. "That's not what I would've thought." He runs his finger over the condensation over the glass of his beer. "I'd say you're quite…moist."

  "Ewww!" I playfully punch him in the arm. "You are not allowed to use that word in reference to anything other than cake and brownies."

  "I can say it whenever I like. But I agree with you. It's best when I use it about things I want to eat."

  My eyes practically bug out of my head. Surely, he wouldn't do that here?

  The waitress leaves us and I breathe out a sigh. My relief is short lived, because there are hands on me.

  Yes.

  Hands!

  As in plural.

  There are two hands traveling up my legs. I'm not sure if the guys realize they are both touching me, but a quick glance left and right and it's clear. They're not really looking at me as much as each other.

  Not in a sexual way.

  Eric and Thomas don't swing that way.

  But, I'm left to wonder.

  What the hell are they doing?

  We don't do things together. Like the three of us together.