Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

At her feet she heard Gabe groan, placing his lips on the arch of her right foot to sprinkle the curve with three short kisses. There was no misconstruing that. She never had a nurse kiss her feet before.

Lincoln leaned forward, his midnight eyes focused on her like a trained missile. Mallory gulped a deep breath, her throat as dry as the night outside. Her body froze as his lips traced over hers, brushing soft and sweet. Her eyes widened, glued open in shock, watching his angular features as they brushed her own. His warm mouth pressed against hers, the kiss arousing and seductive.

Gabe’s hands moved up her legs, his fingers tracing unintelligible patterns on the sensitive flesh behind her knees. The small touch sent all her nerves into high alert. The dual sensation of the kiss and Gabe’s touch to her calves caused her stomach to flip-flop and a warm shiver to rocket down her spine.

After only a moment, Lincoln pulled back, leaving a space smaller than an inch between them as his eyes leapt to hers, gauging her reaction. Her fingers fisted in his shirt, though she couldn’t remember placing them there, let alone clutching at him so tight. She forced her grip to relax, releasing the warm, soft cotton of his T-shirt. She’d never been a clingy girl, emotionally or physically, and she was just setting herself up for disaster if she thought she could cling to either of these men, even for a second.

Her eyes shifted up to Lincoln’s, his gaze dark and hot as a July midnight. His lips were full, enticing, and Mallory had to bite her own lips together to keep from leaning in for his kiss again. The manly taste of him, of whiskey and fire and demand, still clung to her tongue.

He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving hers, never waning in their dominating inspection. Her stomach somersaulted at the intensity of him focused upon her, waiting for his next touch, his next taste, his next assault.

“Have you ever had sex with two men at once?”

Chapter Three

“No.” Mallory’s large gray eyes looked up at him as if he’d blown a handful of confetti in her face. Lincoln couldn’t believe his question surprised her. After all, that’s what they’d asked her for before. Before a pushy fan wandered into their life, activating their protective instinct, and demanded they claim her now. The need to verify she was still vibrant and alive in their arms overpowered their every other thought.

They’d intended to seduce her slowly into the idea of being with both of them. Teasing and tempting her until she begged for everything they offered, and more. But seeing her so small and frail, curled up in Gabe’s arms, hurt, activated a protective instinct in him he didn’t even know he had. The last year of waiting for their woman had been hard enough. Now Lincoln needed to claim her. They both did.

That kiss had been the right way to start. Her kisses were amazing, like three glasses of Dom Pérignon on an empty stomach. Her touch popped and fizzled along his body. Her taste fizzed along his tongue, clouding his mind while at the same time shooting down to sizzle along the length of his cock.

Her pink tongue escaped her mouth to lick her full, pouty lips that had been a deep scarlet red minutes ago, but had been smudged to a faint tint. He assumed his own lips were just as berry, and he didn’t care.

Maybe she’d ask to fix her lipstick and they could find more places to smear with color. His dick hardened further with the image of those bright scarlet lips encircling his cock, fastened and pouted as she sucked him in and out of her mouth, the red smudge along his moist, softened length after she’d sucked him dry.

“Would you like to?” Gabe eyes were bright with interest.

Lincoln wanted to punch him square in the jaw, like he had the first time he’d suggested this ridiculous arrangement. It had taken them over a year after that incident to actually make it into a bed with the same woman. He was doing it again. Pushing too fast, too hard. He was going to push her away. Lincoln had seen it all happen before. If it ended up costing them this woman, he’d punch him in the jaw again.

After seeing Mallory for the first time, Lincoln and Gabe had learned everything they could about her. They’d dug up old copies of her magazine, read every article she’d written, studying her fast, funny writing style and keen observations.

They’d introduced her to other industry contacts, other musicians and celebrities, helping to grow her career and support her ambition. Because that’s what she’d wanted. They watched and waited. Flirted and smiled. All in the hopes that one day they’d have her in their arms.

That’s before an idiotic fan and a stupid dip in the pavement had almost ruined everything. If Gabe hadn’t been closer, Lincoln would have gladly jumped in front of her to save her from that fall.

Now she was finally with them, theirs to seduce, to protect, and maybe even love. But if Gabe continued to push, she’d reject them, just like she almost had outside, before the possible terror of their fan or the reality of her fall. Lincoln wasn’t willing to give her up, not that easily.

This time was different. They didn’t want just a night with this woman, they wanted hundreds of them. If they got Mallory into their bed and it didn’t work out, Lincoln wasn’t sure what he and Gabe would do. They couldn’t bumble around this seduction as they had all the others. There was no room for error this time.

Lincoln watched the woman beside him closely, waiting for a reaction, but she just stared at them. Her wide eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. Her deep breaths pushed her ample breasts above the low neckline of her golden corset, as if fighting for freedom from the confining wire inlays accentuating her gorgeous hourglass figure. The gold color emphasized the glimmer in her pale skin and dark hair.

Mallory didn’t reject them. She made no announcements of the impossibility of being with two men. She didn’t stand up and slap them both in disgust, as some women had. As Lincoln held her in his arms, her citrus spice scent filling his nostrils, he knew she was theirs, as true as he’d known their single would be a hit on his first listen, or that Gabe would be his best friend from the moment he’d spied him holding a guitar that was almost taller than him. He just knew.

“I think we need champagne,” Lincoln announced, staring down at Gabe.

“Agreed.” Gabe scooted back from Mallory’s legs, easing his hands from her boot-cut pant legs and heading toward the back of the bus.

“I’m not really a champagne girl,” Mallory called after him, her tone shaky.

Her hair twirled around them as she turned to speak to Gabe. The silken streamers brushed along Lincoln’s cheek, jaw, and neck. He could even feel the bristle along his right shoulder and bicep through the thin white linen shirt he wore.

His muscles convulsed at the touch. He could imagine how good her hair would feel against him, trailing back and forth along his chest as she rode him, pooling across his lap as she sucked him, tickling his stomach as he pounded into her from behind.

He’d enjoy having his fingers buried in those long black tresses, massaging her scalp, the green and purple streaks bouncing along his forearms as he directed her where exactly to touch, taste, play.

“It’s festive.” Lincoln shifted along the lumpy bus couch, stretching out his legs to make contact with the full right side of her body.

Gabe returned with three glass flutes, setting them on the table beside the silver bucket as he picked up the green bottle. He yanked the top, removing the gold foil with a twist. “Don’t ruin our fun.” He spoke over his shoulder, tossing Mallory a teasing smile.

Gabe grabbed the thick cork, pressing the bottom of the glass bottle into his body. He winked at Mallory as he turned the neck until the cork released with a pop.

Beside Lincoln, she flinched at the noise, her shoulders stiff and high. He suppressed the urge to massage those shoulders down to a comfortable level.
Not too fast,
he coached himself.
Don’t push.
But that didn’t mean he had to do nothing. He could have a look, just a glance, to see how much slower they had to move, how far they’d already progressed.

He turned from Gabe’s pouring the light, frothy liquid into the three glasses to meet Mallory’s steel eyes, the same color as the city outside, as the armor she wore to protect herself from the world. His heart pounded and his cock twitched at what he saw in those eyes. A sprinkling of fear dotted her gaze, like the confetti on the Times Square streets, not fear of them, or what might happen, but a fear of what she wanted. Not enough to be scared into leaving, but enough to rouse the dominant in him and set his blood on fire.

Gabe handed each of them a glass, the bubbles dancing up the clear sides and fizzing along the liquid’s surface. As soon as the glass was in Mallory’s hand, she put the flute to her lips and downed the entire contents in one gulp.

“Hold on there, love.” Gabe walked back to the table, grasping the green bottle neck, holding it aloft to fill her glass again. “We don’t want you getting faced too early.”

Lincoln watched as she pulled the glass to her lips again, as if to down it once more. Her eyes scanned back and forth between the two men, Lincoln beside her and Gabe before her, as she sipped her drink. She sucked down a swallow of the fizzy liquid before pulling the glass away from her lips, responding to their stare.

Lincoln smiled. He rather liked a girl with some fight, who was just as interested in pushing the limits as he was, but also knew when to stop. If she’d gulped down that whole glass again, he would have been tempted to pull the drink from her hands, make her get on her knees and show her forgiveness for disobeying. Just the thought made his cock buzz. But that would have forced them to progress far too fast, faster than Mallory could handle.

“I think a toast is in order,” Lincoln declared, his eyes never leaving Mallory. Her gaze dropped to the floor, as if afraid he’d bestow the honor upon her.

Gabe’s head nodded in Lincoln’s peripheral vision. He held his glass high in the air. “To an amazing New Year’s Eve.”

“And many more to come,” Lincoln gruffed above the rim of his flute, not sure Mallory had heard him, until her eyes flashed back up to his from where she’d been studying the carpet. Her doe-eyed expression knocked the wind from his lungs like a surprise punch to the gut. God, he wished there would be many nights to come, as many nights as it took to get that unbelieving look out of her eye, and then a lifetime more.

Lincoln sipped the frothy, sour drink and had to agree with Mallory. He definitely wasn’t interested in champagne. He looked up to find her eyes on him, almost inspecting him, as if trying to decide whether to trust them or not. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her hand, give her a gentle squeeze of reassurance, but he feared she might think the touch was too much, too demanding, too forceful. He didn’t want to push her. He needed her to make this decision on her own. They both did.

“Yes.” She spoke in a soft sigh, her words only a hair above a whisper.

Lincoln thought for a moment his heart might have stopped beating. His tongue froze in his mouth, hope clouding his vision until he couldn’t do anything but think of what he’d do if that yes was to the question Gabe had asked. The answer they were both so desperate for.

Lincoln glanced past Mallory’s shoulder to watch Gabe filling his glass with more champagne, but only managing to pour more frothy head into the flute. His shoulders were stiff, and Lincoln knew he was paying more attention to Mallory than the drink in his hand, even if he didn’t want to show it.

“Yes what, babe?” Lincoln asked, hesitant to hear her answer.

“I’ve thought about it before.” Her eyes met Lincoln’s over her glass, swirling up to Gabe’s where he stood beside her, champagne bottle poised in his white-knuckled grip. “Being with two men. I’d be interested.” She looked down, her cheeks pink. The most adorable show of innocent embarrassment Lincoln had ever seen graced her features. A thrill shot through him that they’d be the first to show her how amazing it could be.

Gabe dropped unceremoniously to the couch on her other side, faster than the celebratory drinks of the many revelers in the streets. Dumping the bottle to the floor beside the couch, he snuggled closer into her warm, soft body.

Lincoln looked directly into her eyes, the deep color molten as iron before it’s poured to the form the subway rails below the New York City streets. “Are you sure?”

Mallory nodded, inching closer to him. She slipped her hand to his thigh, tightening around the muscle, her thumb rubbing across in smooth stripes. His nerves lit ablaze at the stroke, the burn of her touch reminiscent of the friction created by rubbing two sticks together.

Lincoln’s entire body tightened, his legs stiff, his cock hard and uncomfortable against his fly. He reached out for her instantly. Behind her shoulder, Gabe did the same, burying his face in her neck, his breath whispering across her nape. They’d waited so long for this, and now they finally had the woman of both their dreams.

* * * *

Mallory couldn’t believe she’d said yes to their proposal. Out in the near midnight air, it had seemed ridiculous. But in the warmth of their arms, the idea didn’t seem so improbable anymore.

She wasn’t usually a bold person. Her tongue was brash, but rarely did she follow upon its words with any action, especially with something she really wanted. Just like when her mother had told her she had to get a teaching degree, because what else could she do with an interest in music besides teach and work at a record store? She usually caved to convention. Yet sandwiched between these two men, she felt self-assured, more daring than she usually was, more willing to take the risk.