BlowingitOff (5 page)

Damon’s eyes narrowed. “Those your conditions, are they?”

She nodded. “I’ve only just healed my heart from…from before.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to fuck you both again. And I don’t
lie, so that’s my offer. Just sex. Just once. And then I never want to see
either of you again.”

Liar.

She tilted her chin, ignoring the wholly disturbing word.

Damon crossed his arms. “What if we tell you we don’t
agree?”

“Then you have to leave now. Give your report to Captain
Kilgour on your way out of town.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Damon’s chest. “No.”

Phoebe sucked in a swift breath. “No?”

“I think,” Will said, his stare holding her still, “what
Stretch is trying to say, is the negotiations can take place after.”

“After what?”

For an answer, Will reached behind him and slide the door
closed, the solid thud of metal coming to rest against metal like a clap of
thunder.

Phoebe’s heart decided it was time to do some slamming
again. Straight against her breastbone.

Chapter Four

Will watched Phoebe’s eyes dilate. Jesus, he’d missed her.
Not just on a sexual level—although he’d be spinning bullshit if he said
“sexual level” wasn’t the primary motivator for his current behavior—but on
every
level. So much that no matter how desperate he was to take their seduction
slow, he couldn’t. He wanted her back in their lives more than he wanted to
draw breath and, like Damon, he wasn’t going to wait.

So much for not scaring her off.

“I…we…” She gazed at them, lips parted, breasts heaving. His
mouth filled with saliva and his cock, engorged with blood and lust, jerked in
his jeans.

“Just sex,” she insisted again.

He heard Damon chuckle. “Take off your clothes, Masters.”

Will’s breath caught in his throat.

He should be using this time to tell Phoebe what they’d
discovered in her studio—the accelerant, the residue of a melted candle beside
the ash of an incinerated pile of papers, all minute indicators of
arson—instead of lusting after her with primitive ferocity. That’s what he’d
determined to do. But when he’d seen her talking to the guy with the thinning
hair, a deep, far more primordial response kicked in—territorial jealousy.
Phoebe was
his
woman. His and Damon’s, and he’d be damned if he was
going to let someone else try to stake a claim.

Jesus, William. When did you become such a caveman?

Didn’t matter. Damon was right. Phoebe was meant to be with
them. Fuck what society thought. He was arse-over-tit in love with her, Damon
was arse-over-tit in love with her, and that’s all the fuck that mattered.

He stared at her, the subtle musk of her juices on his
fingers permeating every breath he took, making his cock tight and his pulse
pound. Was she going to do what Damon told her to do? Or were they going to
have to strip her themselves?

His balls throbbed, swollen with heavy anticipation. They’d
stripped her more than once that weekend, the weekend everything changed. Had
chased her down in Damon’s house, thrown her on the floor and stripped her.
Christ, he’d almost come doing so, and thinking about it now pushed him closer
to that edge again.

Damon took a step toward her. “Take. Your. Clothes. Off.”

Phoebe looked at them both. And then, with a tilt of her
chin, she pulled that T-shirt she loved so much up over her head, revealing
smooth, creamy skin, a skimpy black lace bra and breasts so sublimely perfect,
Will couldn’t stop a groan tearing from his chest.

Jesus Christ.

“Just sex,” she stated. But her voice cracked this time.
Very slowly she reached behind her back to unhook her bra, letting the material
slide soundlessly down her arms, revealing her breasts to their hungry gazes.

Damon moved before he did. His best mate closed the distance
between him and Phoebe with three strides, his hands tangling in the wild mane
of her hair as his mouth crushed hers. Will stood motionless, watching. His
dick fought for freedom, its turgid length aching in his jeans. “Damn, the
sight of Damon kissing you drives me wild, Pheebs.”

He shifted on his feet, ignoring the urge to adjust his
cock. If he touched himself now he would be about five tugs away from coming.
And he didn’t want to come by his own hand. He’d done enough of that since
Phoebe had moved to Morpeth.

He wanted Phoebe to make him come. Whether with her mouth,
her hand or her sweet, tight cunt, he didn’t care. Didn’t give a rat’s arse.
Just as long as it was Phoebe.

Only Phoebe. From now until forever.

With a growl, he crossed to them, stepping behind her to
press his body to hers. She moaned into Damon’s kiss, smoothing her hand up
behind Will’s neck to fist her fingers in his hair. He buried his face in her
neck, breathing in her scent—jasmine soap and cherry blossom shampoo. His mouth
watered. He knew the trim nest of curls between her thighs would smell the
same—along with the delicate musk of her pleasure.

He couldn’t wait to breathe her in.

Slipping his fingers around her waist, he released the
zipper of her fly and, with a gentle tug, lowered her jeans over her hips.
Revealing the firm curves of her arse to the room. He kneeled and stroked his
tongue up the bare right cheek her skimpy black g-string left exposed, the
salty sweetness of her flesh making his head spin.

Her cheek muscles coiled, a soft whimper telling him she
liked his tongue’s attention.

He licked the other cheek, sliding one hand between her legs
to cup her groin, stroking her clit through the lace of her knickers.

“Oh Will…”

Phoebe’s groan curled the corners of his mouth. He hooked
his finger under the thin strip of lace in the crevice of her butt cheeks and
pulled it aside, spreading her cheeks apart enough to stroke the tip of his
tongue over her puckered hole.

“Fuck, yes.”

She didn’t just groan this time. She cried out, bucking her
hips backward.

“Fuck a duck, Tiny,” Damon ground out, and Will’s balls rose
at the sound of the raw lust in his friend’s voice. “Way to get to the point.”

Will chuckled. He knew Damon was on the edge.

“I thought you wanted to drown in my juices?”

At Phoebe’s husky question, Damon laughed. “Do you see me
wearing any floaties?”

Phoebe laughed, a breathy gasp that turned to a moan when
Will rolled his tongue over her anus again.

“Get rid of your jeans, hon,” Damon instructed, and Will
pulled away from her backside to let her do just that, still rubbing her clit
through her g-string. It was so hard and swollen beneath his finger. Damon
would be sucking on it soon, would be drawing it past his lips and nipping it
with his teeth.

The thought made Will’s cock jerk, an agonizing spasm of
hungry need he couldn’t deny for much longer.

But first, he wanted to bring Phoebe to climax. As, he
suspected, did Damon.

Without a word to his friend, Will rose to his feet,
dragging his mouth up the exquisite line of her spine as he did so. The shift
in his position triggered Damon’s move. His partner dropped slowly to his knees
before Phoebe.

“You have no fucking idea how starved for you I’ve been,
Masters,” Damon murmured, a heartbeat before parting her folds with his fingers
and plunging his tongue into her pussy.

Phoebe hissed, pushing her shoulders back into Will’s chest.
He wrapped one arm around her waist, supporting her even as he spread her labia
wide, granting Damon’s tongue greater access to her clit.

“Oh, oh, y-yes.” She bucked, driving her hips forward,
clinging to both Will and Damon with fierce strength. She threw back her head,
mouth open, eyes closed.

Will gazed down at her face, loving the sheer rapture
etching her beauty. Her breath left her in shallow gasps, sometimes words—
yes,
yes, that’s it, that’s it
—sometimes nonsensical sounds that spoke just as
eloquently of her pleasure.

The scent of sex filled his breath. His cock pushed harder
at the inside of his jeans. His blood roared in his ears. Six months ago he’d
lived this very fantasy. This time, he was going to make sure it stayed their
reality.

Phoebe bucked again, a wild convulsion that almost knocked
him off his feet. He braced his legs, capturing her left breast as he did so
with a cupping hand.

“That…oh Will, yes…squeeze…”

Her hitching request made his blood race. He massaged her
breast, its full, heavy weight spilling over his hand, her pebbled nipple
stabbing at his palm. “I’m going to suck this soon, Pheebs,” he promised
against her ear, squeezing her breast harder to ensure she knew exactly what he
was going to suck. “I’m going to suck on your nipples until you come.”

She whimpered, writhing in his arms. Between her legs, Damon
moaned, either from Will’s words or Phoebe’s taste or both.

“Oh God…” she panted. “Please…please…”

“Fuck, she’s growing wetter, Will,” Damon murmured. “Squeeze
her tits again, I love the way she gushes when you do that.”

A strangled cry tore from her at Damon’s command. Will
massaged her breast again, with more force this time, his knuckles pinching her
nipple as he did so.

She bucked, another cry ripping from her. “Oh, oh…yes!”

“Christ, your cunt is dripping, Masters.” Damon gazed up at
her, his lips and chin glistening with her juices. The sight made Will’s balls
throb. “I truly could drown in your cream.”

“Does she taste good?” The question didn’t need asking. Will
knew she did. But fuck if he didn’t want to hear his best friend say it aloud.

“Like honeyed heaven,” Damon answered, stroking his thumb
over her parted folds.

“Oh God,” Phoebe rasped, her nails digging into Will’s
scalp. “I can’t…soon…please…”

With a chuckle, Damon returned his mouth to her pussy, his
cheek pressing against Will’s fingers as he suckled on her clit.

“You like what he’s doing to you, don’t you, Pheebs,” Will
whispered, touching the tip of his tongue to the shallow depths of her ear. “It
feels so good, having him eat you out. Having his tongue fuck you.”

She moaned, her eyes shut, her forehead creased in pleasured
torment.

“Imagine what it will be like when my tongue is fucking your
arse at the same time,” he continued, kneading her breast. “Imagine how good it
will feel when I’m fucking your arse with my tongue as Damon’s dick slides in
and out of your cunt.”

A keening cry sounded in her throat and she bit at her
bottom lip, pushing her shoulders harder to his chest. Her skin was slick with
a faint sheen of perspiration, making her shimmer in the room’s light.

“Imagine what it will feel like when we’re both fucking you
with our dicks.” He pinched her nipple and nipped her earlobe. “When we’re both
pumping you full of our cocks. In and out of your tight, hot cunt and your
tight, hot arse.”

“Fuck, yes! Yes!” Phoebe’s hips bucked forward, her pussy
smashing into Damon’s face, a shudder rocking through her with convulsive
release. Will held her as her climax rendered her wild, his fingers wet with
the cream Damon’s tongue and lips missed. His gut knotted, his balls ached.
Jesus, did they ache.

He tightened his arm around her, wanting to feel her body’s
heat on his shaft even through the denim of his jeans. He couldn’t wait much
longer. He
couldn’t
. But he would.

For Phoebe’s pleasure—and Damon’s—he would.

“Damn,” Phoebe breathed, shudders turning to trembles. “Oh
damn, that was…” She licked her lips, the sight of her pink tongue making
Will’s already aching balls hurt more. “That was a-amazing.”

“Of course it was,” Damon said, rising slowly to his feet.
He gave Will a crocked grin. “Your turn, Tiny.”

Will tossed her over his shoulder before she could make a
sound, the classic fireman’s hold executed with graceful perfection. The fading
pulses of her orgasm reacted, her body instantly aware more was to come, and
eager for it. Six months of nothing but her vibrator to get her off and with
just his tongue, Damon had rendered her weak. And now Will was striding across
the floor with her draped over his broad shoulder, heading for the wide bed
positioned in the far back corner, no doubt about to commence doing to her
everything he’d promised. And then some.

God, did she even have the strength to survive it?

Yes. Oh yes, she did. She’d been wanting it for too, too
long.

“Fair dinkum, your arse looks fucking awesome stuck up in
the air like that, Masters.”

Damon’s growled statement sent a flurry of butterflies
through her belly. She could only image how she looked—flung over Will’s
shoulder, naked save for her fuck-all g-string, her juices still dribbling from
her sodden pussy, her hair tumbling over her face. She sucked in a hissing
breath. God, she was on the verge of coming again already.

“Care to lend a hand with this, Stretch?” Will asked, a
second before he dropped her onto the hand-dyed silk duvet.

“Gladly,” Damon answered, and pressed her flat onto her back
with a gentle shove.

“Suck her tits for me,” Will ordered, his voice hoarse.

She stared at him, her heart thumping into her throat as she
noticed his hands working on his belt buckle.
Thank God, he’s getting un—

Damon’s lips closed around her right nipple.

Thick pleasure fogged her mind, preventing the thought from
finishing, and she arched her spine, tangling her fingers in Damon’s hair as
she pushed her breast to his mouth with desperate need.

This was the way it had been before. Desperate want,
desperate need. An extreme craving for everything they did to her. Until that
weekend, she’d never fully understood or appreciated the rapturous sex scenes
in the few erotic novels she’d read. Until that weekend, those scenes had all
seemed a bit over-the-top, unrealistic.