Come, They Told Me

by Eden Connor

  “She married him to piss off her mother.” Davis sounded so confident, he nearly convinced even me. “Brenda’s a dyed-in-the-wool WASP. For her, nothing could be worse than having to introduce a son-in-law who’s both Dominican and Catholic.” He waved an elegant hand. The sapphires in his cufflinks winked. “Brenda had to pay somehow for all the stepfathers she let Sophie get attached to and then kicked to the curb.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed on my face. I knew the look. It meant he was reading me like a cheap paperback. “Really? That’s why? Because I always thought the dude looked an awful lot like you, Davis.”

  “Yes.” I interrupted Matt out of desperation. “Pay him and let’s be done.”

  It seemed my fantasy lovers wanted to strip me bare, just not the way I desired.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  “The transfer has been made. Please verify.” Davis shouted as if the speaker phone was insufficient to carry his voice to the judge’s chambers a few miles downtown. Jabbing a button on the desk phone, he slammed the receiver into the cradle.

  His speakerphone returned fire. The hated judge assured Davis both he and Rincón had already signed my divorce decree. It would arrive by messenger shortly for my signature, and upon the document’s return, the judge would see that the final decree was entered in the courthouse records tonight. Idly, I wondered what it cost to have a superior court judge and his clerk dedicated to getting me my divorce on New Year’s Eve.

  I didn’t care. Whatever the cost, I felt it would be worth it in order to be able to start the New Year free of any encumbrances.

  At the moment, the only encumbrance I craved was Davis’s body pressing down on mine while Matt used that scruff on his square chin to torture my nipples into a thrilling pain.

  What the hell’s wrong with me? Did Rincón’s cheating hurt me so badly that I’ve lost my mind?

  “We seem to have some time to kill.” Davis stood by the desk on the far end of the room, his gaze intent on me. I licked my lips and tried to steady my breathing. His lids lowered over his sapphire eyes. Was he studying my breasts? Tension rippled across my skin. My nipples stood up, begging for his attention through my satin top.

  I tore my gaze away to look at Matt, who’d selected an apple from the fruit basket on the sideboard. He used a pearl-handled pocket knife to strip off the fruit’s rosy skin. My chest heaved as I watched his large fingers manipulate the fruit ‘round and ‘round, until a single, sensuous curl fell to the tabletop.

  Matt looked up. A blast of heat ripped through me as he raised the pale, bared flesh of the apple to his mouth and bit down.

  I couldn’t suppress the small, involuntary sound I made any more than I could stop the wetness saturating my panties. The ache in my nipples grew more intense, as if the slight weight of the fabric constraining them was more than they could bear. A silence built that seemed to push all the air out of the conference room. Matt’s damn dimples flashed again. I stared at a single drop of juice that dripped from his full lower lip to trickle down his chin.

  Terrified either man would attempt a post-mortem of my marriage as the spellbinding silence expanded, I blurted, “If we had cards, we could play strip poker while we wait.”

  Matt’s lingering inspection scorched me. “If you want us all to get naked, Sophie, just say so.” His drawl washed over me like warm rain. “No need to throw your money away playing poker.”

  With a tight expression I couldn’t decipher, he held out the blade.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  Rising to the challenge, I stood and leaned across the table. Dragging my tongue down one side of the steel, then the other, I licked the blade clean.

  Matt’s teeth flashed and one brow rose. I admit, I wanted to know whether he had the matching set of dimples above his ass as badly as I wanted the chance to kiss Davis again without my braces cutting his lip.

  I could either take off my clothes or let them strip me emotionally bare. What was left to lose? The sale was complete. My divorce was about to be.

  My legs shook so badly that my high heels wobbled as they sank into the deep carpet. My fingers trembled, but I managed to lower my zipper enough to expose the mocha lace of my bra.

  Matt’s penknife clattered to the tabletop. The phone made a protesting jingle when Davis bumped into his desk.

  Before I got the dress to my waist, they’d rounded the table. I felt one soft hand slide up my thigh. Toughened hands slid around my neck and two thumbs pressed beneath my chin, forcing my head up.

  Matt’s lips—as velvety as the voice—pressed mine. Sweeping his tongue past my lips, he began a soft, exploratory stroke inside my mouth. At the same time, Davis brushed my hair to the side and he traced a heated trail up my neck with his lips. Whose hand brushed my thigh?

  Matt tasted like cider, cigarettes, and sin. His hands tightened around my throat.

  So, those had to be Davis’s fingers sliding along my slit. I moaned from the pleasure of the hot kisses, thrilled by the sheer naughtiness of being pressed between two such good-looking men.

  Davis’s teeth branded me as he slid his closely-shaved chin across my shoulder to nudge my blouse off, since his hands were occupied. One cupped my breast while the other still stroked my saturated panties.

  The buttons on his blazer bit into my back as he inhaled. His breath tickling the fine hair in front of my ear, but even though most of my senses were being overwhelmed by Matt’s invading tongue, I heard Davis’s heated mutter.

  “Take your time, Matt. I’ve only waited fifteen fucking years for a second chance to kiss Sophie.”

  Matt broke the electric current of our kiss on a chuckle. Our combined laughter shattered any lingering embarrassment I felt. Grooves of humor accented the cowboy’s eyes as he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. He used one large finger to turn my head toward Davis, as though offering me as a gift to the lawyer.

  “You look good in razor burn.” Davis’s perfect teeth flashed briefly, before he pressed his lips to mine.

  The years fell away and I was fifteen again, so crazy in love that my heart twisted. Davis’s tongue caressed mine in a manner so sweetly different from Matt’s that I’d have forgotten him, but for his fingers sliding alongside Davis’s, between my thighs. I knew which fingers were Matt’s. His rough skin snagged on the silk, making a crackling sound that seemed to race up my spine.

  By some male communication I wasn’t privy to, they each slipped a finger inside my panties simultaneously, pinching the cowl covering my clit deliciously between them. I whimpered, but returned Davis’s kiss with passion.

  Their synchronized seduction had my folds swelling. I’d never been so wet.

  I had to pull away and fight for the breath to cry out as they slid into me, one finger rough and one softer, side-by-side. Their slow, parallel penetration made me clench around their fingers with delight.

  Without warning, I found my back pressed to the walnut tabletop and the scarlet soles on my stilettos pointing skyward, when Matt lifted me onto the table. My back arched as someone’s thumb pressed my hard nub. My stomach hadn’t flipped this much since I last rode the Cyclone at Coney Island. They played a perfect duet, finger-fucking me into aching insanity. The scent of my desire perfumed the air and the only sound in the room was my wetness.

  Davis brushed my hair from my cheek. His beautiful eyes narrowed as he studied my expression. His smile was soft, bringing as much pleasure as his hand.

  Teeth raked one swollen nipple, assisted in their glide by the smooth silk of my bra. Has to be Matt. He grasped my peak between his teeth, torturing my point until I cried out.

  The sensations were too much—and yet not nearly enough. My mind thrilled as they tunneled into me, but my body craved more. I moved my hips, helping them finger-fuck me. When Davis bent to suckle my nipple through the fabric of my bra, I came, sobbing from the decadence of having so many pleasure points pressured at once.

  “God, Sophie, you’re so pretty when you come.” Davis’
s smile was the first thing I saw when my vision returned. He turned to Matt. “We should make her come often.”

  “That’d be no hardship, but if I can’t fuck her soon, I’m gonna explode, so you’d better get busy.” Matt leaned down to kiss my cheek as he eased out of my channel, deliberately dragging his finger across my erect clit. He drew my earlobe into his mouth. Meanwhile, he lingered over my hard bud, caressing a creamy circle around the sensitive point.

  I heard the jingle of a buckle and knew Davis stepped between my legs. Matt’s warm breath caressed my ear. Davis tugged my panties off, grunting impatiently as they caught on my spike heels. I tried to help him roll on the condom, but he had it on before I could blink. I felt the blunt head of his cock breach my entrance as Matt’s steadily circling finger began to pick up speed on my clit.

  Davis pressed the head of his shaft into me, then withdrew, a gentle entry that had me almost in tears because the friction was so soft and sweet.

  My bra became unbearable. I lowered the cups to expose nipples as hard as the pearl snaps on Matt’s shirt. My tummy hollowed as Davis pushed further into me.

  “Is that good, Sophie?” Matt leaned close to whisper. “Does Davis’s hard cock feel good inside you?” His fingers still strummed my clit, but he pressed the heel of his hand into the hollow just above my mound. The pressure added to the delicious friction of Davis’s invading erection.

  Yes, it was good, but I couldn’t speak. I was spellbound by the look on Davis’s face, and by the way he bore into me. I think I managed a nod as the exquisite pressure tunneled higher. Matt’s expert finger on my clit made it hard to focus on anything except my pleasure.

  “Your eyes get darker the longer he fucks you, Sophie.” Matt took my hand and pressed it to his own hard length. The proof I’d made two such exquisite creatures so rigid sent a triumphant buzz shooting through me as I caressed the bulge beneath the faded denim.

  Dazedly, I undid his jeans, unsurprised to see plain, white knit briefs—which he helped me push down. The taut skin over his cock was as warm and silky as his voice. I twisted my wrist as I moved my fist along the length of him, trying to return some of the pleasure I was receiving.

  Davis leaned over me, at last picking up the pace. He took one of my nipples between his fingers as he began thrusting hard.

  Matt placed two fingers against my lips. I sucked them into my mouth. My act made both men groan in chorus.

  “Will you suck him, Sophie?” Davis’s voice was husky, his beautiful eyes intent. “Take Matt’s cock in your mouth so I can watch while I fuck you?”

  I would. In fact, I could barely wait to taste the perfect, helmet-shaped head of Matt’s cock. He withdrew his fingers and lifted his cock to my lips. I couldn’t resist rubbing my cheek along its generous length, as much for Davis as for Matt, before swirling my tongue around the crisp edge of his glans. I probed for the sensitive spot underneath as payback for his ministrations to my clit.

  Davis’s groans mingled with Matt’s as I sucked Matt, adding my fist to his slickened length to give him more pleasure. Matt slipped a large hand under my head, raising it off the hard surface so he could push deeper into my mouth.

  His finger on my button sped up. The added friction drew me taut. My mouth was filled with Matt. Davis pounded me mercilessly, and I’d never felt so good.

  I climaxed, shuddering with an ecstasy never before achieved. Matt’s shaft slipped from my mouth as I cried out. It was bliss, but as the sensation faded, a sense of loss swirled through me like dead leaves dancing down a sidewalk on a December wind.

  As if reading my mind, Matt stepped back and urged, “Pick her up, Dave.”

  Davis plucked me from the table. I tried to reach between us to reposition him, but he kissed my cheek and whispered, “Not me, Sophie. Not yet. Patience, baby girl.” His hands gripped my ass, but before I could protest, I felt a third hand on my butt. Heat from Matt’s body blanketed my back. I parted my lips for Davis’s kiss.

  While Davis’s tongue stroked mine, Matt’s cock pressed into my channel. The force of his entry pressed my clit against Davis’s shaft, chafing it so sweetly that I ground against the rigid column. Matt began to pump into me with delightful aggression. Davis slid his hands to my waist, lifting me and then pressing me down, helping Matt fuck me.

  “Share, dammit,” Davis broke our kiss to demand. Matt lifted me a fraction and withdrew with a disgruntled groan. Before I could protest the loss, Davis fisted his cock and lined the head up with my entrance. He shoved into me again. Chills ran down my spine when Matt’s velvety lips began an exploration of the nape of my neck. I could only make a breathless chuckle when he nibbled my earlobe, then traced the inner curves of my ear with his tongue.

  They shared my channel, first one and then the other, the pleasure from their differing paces making me nearly crazy. I had to let my head loll on Matt’s shoulder while I fought for breath. Davis took immediate advantage of my upraised breasts, suckling my nipples. Matt thrust into me, hard and fast, until I exploded like a bottle of sparkling wine over-warmed by the sun. My climax ignited theirs like a string of Chinese firecrackers set off by a single match.

  We hadn’t quite gotten our breathing straight, much less our clothes, when the buzzing phone signaled the messenger’s arrival.

  Hour Three

  Tick, tick, tick.

  I’m not ashamed to admit that, while Davis pointed out the places I needed to sign to rid myself of Rincón, Matt bent me over the conference room table, his short beard pricking delicious chills across my bottom as his hot, wet tongue teased a slow circle around my tense pucker.

  Driving his fingers once more into me, he stiffened his tongue and conquered the last coy spot on my body. Meanwhile, Davis disposed of the divorce documents, dismissed his skeleton staff, and divested himself of that damned suit.

  I pressed my hot cheek to the cool surface of his conference table and stared as Davis bared every delicious inch, enjoying the contrast of the olive tones of his skin against the edges of his white shirt. I let my eyes follow the arrow of dark hair that was interrupted by his sexy red silk boxers. The way he stared at Matt’s face, pressed to my ass, made my juices flow.

  I watched his eyes darken as Matt raised his head to brush the soft stubble on his square chin along my split, each short, stiff bristle striking its own small fire in my puckered flesh.

  I cried aloud as Matt’s fingers roughly penetrated my channel. The sound prompted Davis to grab his cock and stroke it to hardness with one fist. Sudden heat flared when Matt’s soft hand came down smartly on my upturned butt.

  I cried out again. Davis took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into my mouth. As his blows rained down on my ass cheek the way confetti would soon fall on Times Square, I sucked on his shaft. His rigid length felt warm to my tongue. My abused bottom burned, yet each stinging blow sent a lick of flame to scorch my clit.

  A cock pressed roughly into my pussy, claiming all of me in one hard thrust. Matt. His calloused hands spread me open. This time, Davis’s finger rubbed my tenderized hole, pressing until he pushed past my reluctant ring of muscle. The stinging itch dueled with Matt’s hard thrusts, both sensations rough, yet pleasurable.

  “I want to fuck this sweet ass, Sophie. I’ve wanted to fuck it since you were fifteen, and I think from the sweet way you’re sucking on my cock right now that tonight, you want that too.” His blows became caresses. It seemed as though his palm ironed the heat from my skin into my core. His finger invading my tight hole set a rhythm different from Matt’s cock—two different percussions—melody and chorus, but I was realizing that both were required for my body to sing.

  I stared up at Davis, a little shocked but a lot turned on by his words.

  “In fact, I want to put my cock into your ass and feel Matt’s cock moving inside you at the same time.”

  Hot words, and as I tried to imagine that feeling, a cool drizzle of liquid trickled down my cleft.

  “Ah,
God that looks sweet.” Matt’s honeyed tones were a growl. Davis began working his finger into me. The cowboy’s calloused hands gripped my ass tighter, opening me wide for their pleasure. Each penetrating twist seemed to raise the volume on my desire, and though I had all I could hold, I still needed more. I pulled Davis’s cock from my mouth long enough to demand more, craving a sensation I sensed only they could give, as I hurtled toward an unknown ecstasy the way that first bargain-hunting bride bursts through the basement door at Filene’s.

  “We’re willing to give you everything you need, Sophie.” Davis’s sweet assurance was coupled with a hard sting on the un-abused side of my ass when Matt shifted sides. An unexpected stroke against my clit was as welcome as an available taxi in a thunderstorm. I tried to determine who I needed to thank for the circling touch, guessing it was Matt, but I was pushed past caring as Davis drilled a second digit into my ass.

  I exploded in pleasure. Bright flashes of color lit the darkness behind my tightly squeezed eyelids. My dual passages clamped and released as I came, my head ringing with the hosannas of their combined praise as they stroked my slick skin, inside and out.

  “That’s it, sweet, sexy Sophie, come for us, baby,” Davis crooned. His fingers swirled as they pierced me. He added yet another, while more cool lube eased his way into my aching passage.

  “I told you she belonged between us,” Matt drawled. “Sometimes a filly’s just too feisty for one lone cowboy to break.” His finger never ceased its counterclockwise circling against my rigid clit. I had the crazy notion that the touch seemed to turn back time, erasing anything I’d been before, and leaving only what I could become. I came apart with pleasure again.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  My clit throbbed as they at last allowed me to cool down, but my respite lasted only as long as it took Matt to peel off his Wrangler’s and boots and jerk open the snaps down the front of his shirt. Staring through slitted eyelids, I memorized his broad chest, decorated with pewter-colored curls while Davis divested me of my stockings and stilettos. When we were all as bare as a new calendar, we collapsed on the soft rug.