BlowingitOff (11 page)

“Damon…” Phoebe panted. “I want…please, Will…”

Her juices flowed from her, wetting Damon’s lips and chin.
He wriggled his tongue in her cleft, over her clit, reveling in the way her
body trembled under his hands and against his face.

Something briefly brushed his knee and he pulled away from
Phoebe’s sex long enough to see Will wrap his fingers around his cock and pump
away.

Damon’s own cock jerked at the sight. Throbbed with an
insistence he couldn’t ignore any longer. With one last stroke of his tongue
over Phoebe’s clit, he straightened, aligning his cock with her pussy.

He thrust into her. One long, slow, steady penetration into
her tight, hot wetness.

“Oh fuck, Damon!”

Phoebe’s cry reverberated around the room.

As did Damon’s groan.

He withdrew, as slowly as he’d entered her, all the way out
until the edge of his cockhead stretched her lips, and then thrust back into
her again.

Withdrew. Penetrated. Withdrew. Penetrated. His length
growing thicker and longer with each stoke. Growing slicker and more coated in
her cream.

“Now, Will,” he finally ground out, his head spinning as he
completely withdrew his dick from her sex.

Will sat up, his hands gently pushing Phoebe as he went,
until she was upright on her knees between them.

“Sit on me, Pheebs.” Will’s order was hoarse. He stared up
into her face, his nostrils flaring, his Adams apple jerking up and down in his
throat. “Sink onto my dick.”

She did exactly as asked, lowering herself onto Will’s rigid
length.

“Fuck yes.” Will’s eyes squeezed shut, his head thrown back,
his jaw clenched. “You’re so tight, Pheebs. So tight…” His words dissolved into
moans, moans that grew louder when Pheobe rolled her hips and brushed her
breasts to his face.

Damon let out his own moan. His cock pulsed. “Need to be
inside you now, babe.”

The proclamation tore from his throat, raspy and breathless.
He was losing control. The sounds of Phoebe sliding up and down Will’s cock was
too much. Too much.

He loved fucking her pussy, he truly did, but her arse…her
arse was his. In their unexpected weekend of discovery, Will had only ventured
there once and his preference for Phoebe’s cunt concerned Damon not one little
bit. He loved her arse. Loved its tightness, loved the way it gripped his cock.
Loved the way she moaned and writhed and begged for more when he pumped into
it.

He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, pushing his
erection against the base of her spine. “Slide up for me, Pheebs. Before I come
all over your back.”

She slid up Will’s cock, held herself at its tip. “Hurry,
Damon,” she begged.

“Fuck yeah, hurry up,” Will ground out. “Otherwise you’re
just gonna to be a bystander, mate.”

Damon chuckled, the laugh close to a groan. “I’m coming, I’m
coming.”

Will laughed back. “Not yet, dickhead.”

“Idiot,” Damon choked out with a grin. He snatched up the
tube of lube and squeezed the cool liquid onto his fingers, painting it over
Phoebe’s hole without delay. She bucked, a whimper sounding from her, Will’s
groan echoing her response, and then slowly, so very slowly, began to lower
herself down Will’s length, arching her back, her arse thrusting backward…

And Damon speared his cock into her hole.

He stretched her to her limits. A burning sting radiated
from Phoebe’s sensitive flesh, painful and exquisitely pleasurable all at once.
Phoebe gasped, her instinctual buck plunging Will’s erection deeper still into
her sex. His fingers raked at her hips, his moan an aural aphrodisiac that made
her already pounding heart thump harder.

“Ah fuck, you are so tight, Masters,” Damon ground out,
slowly sinking farther into her backside. “So tight…”

Will’s cock twitched in her pussy, an urgent spasm she
recognized as approaching release. He had always been the one to last the
longest, but something told Phoebe the caress of Damon’s cock on his through
her thin inner wall was pushing him faster than ever toward detonation. She
rode their cocks, throwing back her head as Will claimed one breast with a firm
hand and the other with his sucking mouth. As Damon found her clit with his
fingers and pinched and teased and pulled.

As they pumped into her—again, again, again. Stretching her,
filling her with each thrust and stroke.

Oh God, she wouldn’t last much longer. This was too…too…

Intense.

Perfect.

Right.

It was all so right. Perfectly, intensely right.

“Jesus, Will,” Damon’s voice was strained, “I’m so close to
blowing my load.”

The confession—honest and unashamed—sent jolts of erotic tension
into Phoebe’s core. Almost as powerful as the bliss of their duel lengths
inside her.

“Fuck, Masters…I can’t hold on.” Damon’s groans raked her
senses, a heartbeat before she felt his cock spasm deep inside her rectum. His
rhythm turned wild, as wild as Will’s pumping thrusts.

Their savage loss of control was all it took. Pleasure
engulfed her. Total and absolute. Detonating in her core and surging through
her limbs. Consuming her. Possessing her. Her sex constricted, pulses of
release pumping her cream over Will’s masterful shaft. Her anus squeezed
Damon’s cock, gripped it tight as she writhed against them both.

Unable to stop herself, she arched back, the force of her
climax taking her by surprise. Will groaned, the sound vibrating through her as
her cunt constricted and pulsed around his pumping length.

“Fuck, Phoebe,” Damon panted…seconds before he came in her
arse, fingers digging into her hips as lost himself to his climax. And still
she rode them both, milking them of their seed until Damon’s thrusts into her
arse faded and Will’s penetrations grew still.

Until it was just her orgasm that remained, a throbbing
pulse between her thighs. An orgasm that told her exactly what her answer to
Damon’s earlier proposal had to be.

“Holy shit,” Damon mumbled against her back.

“You can say that again,” came Will’s response, his lips
grazing the side of her neck.

With a laugh, Damon withdrew from Phoebe’s backside, the
action sending electric fingers of pleasurable friction into her center. She
let out a low whimper, loving the sensation.

“Think you better get used to hearing me say it, mate. I get
the feeling I’m going to be repeating myself quite often in the future,” Damon
said.

Before Phoebe could respond, Will lifted his head from the
crock of her neck and gazed up at her, his stare so intent she felt it caress
her very soul. “Something tells me you’re correct, Stretch.”

Pheobe’s heart raced faster. She stared at him, her throat
thick.

Damon plonked down beside her, pinning her with an
unwavering gaze. “We’re not taking no for an answer, Phoebe Masters, so don’t
even think about it.”

“I—”

He shook his head, putting his fingers on her lips. “Before
you go on, let me say something.” He shot Will a look, his eyes conveying words
to his friend she couldn’t hear. “Yes, both Tiny and I are pretty bloody
hotshot, flying-up-the-ranks investigators. Yes, we’ve both been tapped more
than once for promotion to the Sydney offices.”

Phoebe gasped. They had? “When? Before I moved here?” she
asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.
“Why didn’t either of you go?”

Damon gave Will another of those meaningful looks. “Neither
of us wanted to live in Sydney. Why would we? It’s too far away from
you
.”

She swallowed again, searching his face for any hint of
mirth.

Nothing.

Damon, the man who seemed capable of finding humor in every
aspect of his life, was serious. A prickling heat began to creep over her body.

“Eight years we’ve been working together,” Will said, and
she jerked her gaze to him. A grin curled at his lips. Will was gorgeous when
serious, but that small smile… “Eight years since I was promoted and
transferred to the Newcastle offices from the Outback. Eight years since
Stretch here became my boss…and my mate. In all that time, do you think there
haven’t been rumors about what we do together when we’re off duty?”

She blinked. She
knew
how gossipy the firefighting
organization was. What she hadn’t known was that Will and Damon were the
subject of such gossip. “Why?”

It was Damon’s turn to grin—the patented Damon Hunt grin,
sardonically cheeky and flippant. “We’re two hot, bloody sexy men who spend
most of our time together, turning down one woman after another. Hell, most of
the blokes in the Newcastle unit are convinced we’re fucking each other.”

It was the last part of his sentence she should have focused
on, but as it seemed wont to do of late, her mind latched onto something far
less significant. “Why did you turn down one woman after another?”

Damon burst out laughing, loud and completely free of shame.
“Fuck a duck, Masters,” he shook his head at her, “I thought you were smart.”

“We turned down one woman after another,” Will stated, his
grin growing wider, “because we only wanted you, Pheebs. Even if we didn’t know
it at the time.”

She gave him a steady look, her pulse thumping in her neck,
that prickly tension sweeping over her. “So, who were the dumb ones then?”

“And then when we realized, we ran like gutless chickens,”
Damon continued, pulling an expression of such boyish exasperation she had to
bite back a laugh. “Well, you did the running, although it wasn’t a
run
as such but a planned move. But we let you. And we didn’t come after you. As
much as we wanted to.”

“Again,” Phoebe asked, her voice teasing, “who are the dumb
ones?”

“We were, Pheebs.” Will took her hand, his fingers warm, his
grip loose and yet so very, very firm. “Bloody dumb. We should have followed
you to Morpeth and apologized for being dickheads and begged you to come back
to us. We both know that, but the point Stretch is
trying
so badly to
make here—honestly, I sometimes wonder how he manages to fill out all the
paperwork involved in our job—is that we’re already shrouded in rumor and
conjecture and it hasn’t killed our careers one bit.”

“But rumor and fact are two very different things,” Phoebe
said quickly. The prickling heat had become a tingling sensation, like all the
blood in her veins was charged. Like she was a glass rod ready to be blown into
something beautiful, beyond comprehension—or shattered beyond repair.

“Pheebs,” Will leaned toward her, his grin making her heart
thump and her sex constrict, “we’re not going to get kicked off our jobs
because we’re both in love with the same woman.”

“Might if we bring said woman to a possible arson scene and
fuck her senseless on all the evidence, but I think we can control ourselves a
little, don’t you, Masters?” Damon cocked an eyebrow at her. “Besides, I’m
pretty certain you’re going to be too busy overseeing the rebuilding of your
studio here in Morpeth to come make love to us at crime scenes.”

Phoebe’s lips tingled. Her nipples pinched tight. “Morpeth?
Not Newcastle?”

Damon gave Will a conspiratorial smile. “I actually enjoyed
the drive up here today. Reckon I could do it every day, how ’bout you, Tiny?”

Will rolled his eyes. “As long as I’m driving. And by the
way, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Tiny?”

“I’ll make you a deal. Masters here says ‘yes’, I’ll stop
calling you Tiny. Deal?”

Both men turned to look at her. Her men.

An image of them pleasuring her flashed through her head,
their bodies so close they were almost one, their lengths buried in her
body…three forms of living substance, wrought by desire so hot, so absolute,
one would never be able to exist without the others again.

They were one. They would always be one. It was as it was
meant to be.

Born from a fire intended to destroy.

New creation from old.

Future from past.

They loved her. They wanted her. And she loved them. Society
be fucked, she loved them both.

Always would.

“I’m thinking the nickname ‘Bilbo’ would suit more. I mean,
Will
is
shorter,” she said with a grin.

A second before both men threw themselves at her. Their eyes
ablaze with elated desire…their bodies instruments of wicked, wild heat once
more.

The End

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