Pushin' Buttons (Boot Knockers) (13 page)

He reached for her. “How are you feeling after that wine?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Soon enough he’d learn of her request from Riggs.

Hugh tipped her head up with a rough knuckle. “Why are you blushing?”

“Because…” A long minute passed. She swore she heard the clock tick in the other room.

With a quiet noise in his chest, Hugh sat on the bed and drew her to stand between his legs. Just being trapped by those powerful thighs knotted her with longing. Juices wet her inner legs, reminding her that he’d almost caught her.

“Wait.” He expanded his lungs as if scenting something.

Me.

Her nerves jangled.

“Were you…?” He caught her wrist and drew her fingers to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he released a growl that raised the hair all over her body. “Damn, baby. You had these fingers buried in your pussy, didn’t you?” Without waiting for her answer, he stuck them in his mouth.

She squealed at the wet warmth. He held her gaze as he sucked, running his tongue around each digit, paying attention to her fingernails where the flavors would be caught.

Her breath came in hard pants. “Hugh.”

He released her fingers with a popping sound. “Why were you blushing?”

His mention of it made new heat flare hotter in her face.

“Why?”

His command dizzied her. When she met his gaze, her heart drummed faster. “Because of what I was thinking.”

His eyes darkened. “Tell me what it was.”

Could she do it? Ask for the threesome that made her nipples achingly hard and her pussy soaked? What did she have to lose? She had one chance—her coming here was her final hope.

“I want a threesome.”

His eyelids fluttered. He shifted his jaw, making the crease on his cheek bulge in a distracting way. “What gave you this idea? Did you see something?” His gaze shot to the TV. A huge selection of porn was hidden in the cabinet underneath it.

“No, not something.
Someone.
”

The corner of his eye twitched. Then twitched again. “Who did you see?”

“After all that wine, I went to the dining hall for coffee. I ran into Riggs.”

Hugh’s eyes bulged. “Riggs? You’re sure that’s who you saw?”

She nodded, suddenly ice cold. Was he angry?

He ran his hands down her hands. “Sibyll, you’re sure about this?”

A lump in her throat prohibited her from saying it aloud. She nodded again.

Cupping her face, he looked into her eyes. “You’re absolutely, one hundred percent sure that you want a threesome?”

“Y-yes.” A delicious shudder racked her.

He whispered something that sounded like “dammit.”

She started to inch back, but he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight against his big, heaving chest. Suddenly she wished she knew him better and could read these reactions in him.

“Sibyll, I need you to say the words. Do you want a threesome with me and Riggs?”

She searched his eyes, finding electric sparks that hadn’t been there before. Excitement speared her. “I do. I want both of you.”

“Archer.”

Riggs spun to find Hugh bearing down on him like some badass wet dream. Riggs froze with his hands still on his jeans button, which he’d been about to unfasten. His nuts bulged with unspent lust. “What are you doing here?”

Hugh shot across the room to Riggs’s bunk. Before Riggs could blink, Hugh hooked out a fist, catching him in the jaw.

For the second time in twenty-four hours.

Pain exploded through his mouth and teeth. “Ow! Dammit!”

“That’s for convincing Sibyll to ask for a threesome with you!” Hugh puffed, hat askew.

Anger burned hot in Riggs, but he held it tight. Very rarely did he fight with Hugh. Those moments they did disagree played in his head over and over. And he’d never let go of the pain from their exchanged words. Hugh had the ability to carve Riggs to the bone. He couldn’t afford to gain more scars.

“I didn’t convince. She shocked me with that revelation.”

Hugh’s eyes bugged. He righted his hat and continued to glare. “She asked you?”

“Yes.”

“Sonofabitch,” Hugh murmured.

Riggs took in his friend’s defensive stance. “You don’t want to share her.”

“Hell no!”

“Well, like it or not, a client has asked for something. The client—”

“Is always satisfied,” Hugh spat. “I fucking know.” He twisted his head down and away, hiding his face from Riggs and pulling on Riggs’s heartstrings like a puppet master.

“What’s really going on with Sibyll, Hugh?”

He collapsed to Riggs’s single bed and stared at his hands. “I don’t know. She does things to me.”

“Like sexual things?” It was possible the quiet molecular biologist was a hellcat in bed, which was why Hugh was finding it difficult to hold on to his control, even if he hadn’t yet satisfied her.

“No, like in here.” He thumped his chest with a fist.

The air left Riggs, and he dropped to sit beside his friend. When he was able to speak, his words were stilted. “You’ve only known her a couple days.”

“Christ, I know that. But she looks at me and it makes me want to throw her in the truck and drive to Vegas.”

Jeezus, this is serious.
Any hope of having Hugh to himself fled Riggs’s mind, leaving him empty, shattered.

His hand shook as he scuffed it over his jaw. “What are you going to do?”

Hugh ignored his question. “It’s nuts, right? I mean, people did that in the old days—fell in love at first sight.”

“Is that what this is? Love?”

Hugh exploded to his feet, rocking the bed. He took two steps, pivoted and rushed back toward Riggs. “No. It’s not love. It’s infatuation. I can’t make her come. The minute she spills that sweet nectar, I’ll drink my fill and be sated.” When he met Riggs’s gaze, though, Riggs knew that would never happen.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “What do we do about her request though?”

“We don’t have a choice. We take her.”

“Together? And do we both touch her? Do we touch each other? What are your rules?” The minute he touched Hugh in front of Sibyll, she’d know his secret—he fucking loved Hugh with everything in his being. And the minute Hugh saw him touch Sibyll, he’d know Riggs’s absorption with her.

Hugh considered the question. “I don’t know what she wants.”

“You didn’t ask before coming here?”

A begrudging smile teased the corner of Hugh’s mouth. “My only thought was to punch your lights out.”

Riggs rubbed his jaw, fighting a smile too. “I hope she doesn’t want to see me suck your dick, Donovan. Because after two blows today, my jaw is stiff as hell.”

Hugh jerked his chin toward the door for Riggs to follow. “As long as your cock is stiff, that’s all we need.”

The clock in the front room chimed, alerting Sibyll it was late in the evening. Too late to begin a sexual escapade of epic proportions. Yet was there ever a perfect time? Hugh and Riggs punching in at 8:00 a.m. wouldn’t dispel her nerves.

When Hugh had left the bungalow, he’d left a fog of tension hanging in the air. Yet he’d thrown her a look that had made her pussy clench in need.

I’ll take care of you, it said.

The moment he’d left, she’d bundled her hair into a hand towel to keep it from getting wet and jumped into the shower. Making quick use of the lavender-scented body wash this time, she could barely contain the constant tremor rolling through her.

She didn’t even know what to expect from a ménage. Would they touch each other then take her? Would she call the shots? Hugh wanted her to ask for things, but somehow she knew he wanted control tonight.

When she climbed out, she quickly dried off and released her hair from the towel, which was damp from the shower spray. In the mirror she noticed her hair fell around her face in loose waves, and her eyes were too bright.

Would they both fuck her at the same time?

She threw down the towels and hurried to the other room to her stash of sexy panties. Her suitcase hung open atop the dresser. Upon arrival she hadn’t bothered to unpack. Getting settled in a place like this probably wasn’t a good idea, especially since she’d leave part of herself when she left. Even if she never orgasmed, she’d never forget this place.

Or Hugh.

Or Riggs.

Dark need climbed her insides. She sifted through her panty collection and chose a fire engine red lace pair. A series of tiny knots held the sides in place. When they were on her body, the lace barely covered her mound.

She turned and checked out her booty in the mirror. While she wasn’t a vain person, she loved how sexy these undergarments made her feel. It was the outer clothes that left her feeling stodgy and hopeless.

When the front door opened, she gasped. Whirling to face the bedroom door, she covered her breasts with her hands. The outer door closed, bringing a waft of field-scented air.

Two raw and rough cowboys entered the bedroom. Sibyll took a step backward.

Hugh’s gaze raked over her from head to toe, then ticked back up, slowly, lingeringly. He swallowed hard. “Hell, this is going to be a long night,” he muttered.

Sibyll’s heart plummeted. Was she now an arduous task to be undertaken?

“No, no, baby.” He crossed the room and caught her in his arms. “I mean...God, look at you.”

Riggs closed the distance between them to stand behind her. His heat washed over her flesh. “Your wish is our command,” he said low, inches from her throat that Hugh had kissed so many times already.

She shivered. So this was how it would go down—no warm-ups or small talk. Just carnal needs satisfied. Part of her balked at the swiftness of it, even as she thought it best. This was sex, not emotion. Her purpose was to explode into her first orgasm.

As if they’d done this a dozen times—they probably had—Riggs sank his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back. Hugh swooped in and kissed her.

His flavor filled her head, mingled with Riggs’s earthier scents and her own arousal. While Hugh chased her tongue around her mouth, Riggs touched her.

She learned the way his hands lingered, how he exerted just the right pressure beneath her breasts, making her ache for him to cradle them. Also, how he placed fluttering touches over her belly, down to her inner thighs, purposely avoiding touching her needy pussy.

When he traced a path along the strings holding up her panties, he rested his lips on her throat.

She writhed under Hugh’s and Riggs’s mouths, her body rioting for more. Cream soaked the lace over her pussy, and her nipples hardened painfully. But the knocking of her heart was her real fear. She was losing herself to these cowboys.

“Baby, I want you bad… Damn, Hugh, she’s so primed.”

“She’s been ready for days.” Hugh tore his mouth away, panting, his erection steely against her abdomen. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

Just as she’d guessed, Hugh was in charge of this three-ring circus. She only hoped it was a three-orgasm circus by the time the night ended.

Riggs wrapped his arms around her from behind and walked her to the bed. The rough denim covering his hips was like cowboy velvet against her ass, exposed by the thong. By the time they reached the mattress, she ached to shove into his hardness.

Yes, I can take both men. I want it.

Riggs stretched her out on the bed, and he and Hugh stood at the sides—a gorgeous wall of man muscle. The way they looked at her made her feel more beautiful than ever before.

She met Hugh’s stare, and that electric warmth filled her chest cavity dangerously close to her heart. He broke the connection, and she looked at Riggs.

His dark eyes snapped.
With lust. Nothing more.

Hugh kneeled on the bed, wrapping a hand around either of her ankles. She sucked in a breath at his new way of handling her. If Riggs took her wrists, she’d be splayed between them, helpless. While she ached for them to touch, kiss and fuck her mindless, she first wanted them to touch each other.

In front of her.

“What do you two do when you’re alone together?” she asked.

Riggs jerked as if stabbed. He glanced at Hugh then half turned away, but not before she caught it in his eyes—a molten passion.

Hugh tightened his hold on her ankles, spreading her legs slightly. Her panties were now a useless, soggy scrap of lace. “Is that what you want to see, baby? Two guys?”

She exhaled slowly even as Riggs seemed to hold his breath. One look at his face told her Riggs wanted Hugh above all else. Seeing his pleasure would make her feel good. In turn, she might get off too.

Keep on telling yourself that you’re using them.

No, she was. The Boot Knockers were a means to an end. Once she had that first surge of pleasure, she could walk out of here and live a sexually fulfilling life on her own.