Hands on Justice [The Service Club 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (8 page)

Cade walked to the coffee table and sat. “Justice, turn your head this way, eyes on me.” When she hesitantly obeyed, he added, “Keep them on me. Keep them open. You’re going to know I’m watching what Grant does to you.”

Grant sank to his knees behind her and palmed the cheeks of her ass. The heat of her flesh seeped into his hands, traveling up his arms and through his system on a direct course to his cock. He wanted to touch her all over, to feel her writhe as he skimmed his hands from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

Not tonight.

No, tonight he wouldn’t allow himself that freedom. Tonight he would bring them both to the edge and they would both be left teetering there until the next time.

He moved his hands to her inner thighs, pushed her legs open wide, and situated her calves on his shoulders, suspending her lower body in the air. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet, hot scent of her pussy. His mouth watered, his tongue burning with the need to taste. Opening his eyes, he studied the glistening folds of her cunt. Her clit was engorged, her lips coated with her juices. She would be dripping by the time he finished with her.

“Has anyone ever spanked you, baby?”

Her ass and pussy clenched at the question. “Once.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was…” She hesitated, her body wiggling slightly again, and he deduced it as an attempt to shrug. “It was okay.”

Grant glanced at Cade and saw the other man lift a brow as he gazed at Justice. “Just okay, sweet thing?”

“What was it about the experience you didn’t like?” Grant watched in fascination as her flesh turned a light shade of pink. Was that a full-body blush? It sure as hell seemed so.

“It was too, um, sweet.”

Grant turned his face into her inner leg and stifled a chuckle. He had sensed from the first moment Justice wasn’t a woman who would be satisfied by sweet sex. She hungered to live on the line where pleasure and pain mixed to combine rapture that would send her spiraling over the edge of orgasmic insanity. Her confession proved his assumption right.

“We aren’t sweet men, love. If we were, I wouldn’t be about to spank you for what you did tonight.” Grant didn’t give her a chance to respond. He reached over her right leg still draped on his shoulder and delivered a slap to her right butt cheek that reverberated off the living room walls.

He heard her quick intake of breath coupled with a startled gasp, moved his hand a fraction of an inch, and landed another slap. “Will you disobey us again?”

“No. Yes. Probably. Oh God, Grant, do it again.”

“I think she’s enjoying her punishment, Grant.” Cade’s tone was laced with amusement and thick with his own arousal.

“Are you, Justice? Does it feel good when I spank you?” Before she could answer, he brought his hand down on her left butt cheek in two rapid smacks that equaled the intensity of the first two.

“Yes.” She half hissed, half moaned the word. Her ass wiggled in an obvious search for another smack he didn’t give her.

He reached between her legs with his left hand and swiped a finger between her pussy lips. She gasped and attempted to buck back with her hips. His finger came back drenched, thickly coated with white cream. He licked it clean, torturing himself when another taste he knew he must deny himself lay right there before his eyes.

“Your pussy tastes amazing.”

“Please, don’t stop. Taste it again.”

“Now, darlin’, if he did that, it wouldn’t be punishment, now would it?” Cade asked.

Grant eased back, positioned his hand between her legs, and smacked her pussy lips with a blow only slightly softer than the ones he had given her ass. The mewling cry that left her in the aftermath would stay with him for many nights to come.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Grant, I can’t take it.”

“I think she likes that pussy being spanked more than her ass,” Cade commented.

Grant focused on her reddened pussy lips, on the way they contracted spasmodically. “Are you about to come, Justice?”

“Yes. Please. I want to come.”

Grant slapped her sharply on her pussy lips and she moaned, the sound loud and tortured. “Did I say you could?”

“I can’t stop it. I’m burning, Grant. I need to come.”

“You will stop it,” Grant told her sternly. “You won’t come now, not at all tonight.”

She whimpered, the cry growing louder as he eased her legs off his shoulders. She scrambled when he got to his feet behind her, pushed herself up off the couch, and rounded on him. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Grant had never seen a woman more radiant with angered arousal than Justice was at that moment. He hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her naked body against him, and kissed her. She melted in his arms, her body instantly molding to his, offering itself to him completely. He very nearly took her up on the offer, too. His cock ached to the point of sheer agony. He wanted to flip her back over the arm of the sofa, bury his pulsing shaft in her sodden pussy, and fuck her until she begged him to stop. He wanted to fall on top of her sated and spent, gather her into his arms, and hold her the rest of the night.

Instead, he ended the kiss, drawing back to gaze down at her. “I’m going home.”

Her eyes widened with shock. “You can’t!”

“I can and I am.” He brushed his lips to the tip of her nose. “And you are not to make yourself come after we’re gone. If you do, I’ll know about it and your next punishment will be worse.”

Disbelief swept across her face. “You wouldn’t know.”

Grant lifted a brow. “You’re free to take the chance and disobey me. Then I’ll be free to tie you down and keep you on the edge of release for as long as I want.” He let her go, keeping his gaze on her as he stepped back. Behind her, he saw Cade get to his feet and turn to leave. “Make no mistake, baby, I can bring you a millisecond from coming and keep you that way for hours if I choose.”

“You’re an asshole.”

The utter surprise in her voice was almost comical. The way she stood there glaring at him with pure fury and unfulfilled need in her eyes made her the most arresting woman he had ever met.

Grant nodded once. “I can be. Just remember I’m one of the assholes you love, one of the assholes that loves you.” He turned and followed Cade out of the living room, but not before he caught the astonishment that froze her in place.

She never should have gone out with them. More, she damn sure never should have let down her defenses the way she had done. She had given in, submitted to everything they told her, and look where it had gotten her.

Justice spun on her heel, stomped several steps across her office, and paced back again. What the hell had she been thinking? Her gaze landed on her desk chair, and she remembered Wednesday morning’s phone call. Hadn’t she sat right there after Cade hung up bound and determined to make it through another meeting with him and Grant and escape it intact?

Yeah, fuck lot of good that determination did you the second you were face-to-face with them.

No, it hadn’t happened that quickly. She might have been able to hold on to her resolve if they hadn’t touched her, if they hadn’t revealed their knowledge of her deepest, darkest desires, if they hadn’t told her she belonged to them.

Grant had said they wouldn’t walk away. Yet, wasn’t that exactly what they had done? It was Friday, a full thirty-five hours and sixteen minutes since they had walked out of her living room, and neither of them had so much as called.

“Fuck you both.” She walked to her desk with full intentions of getting to work, but the restless energy she had been battling since Wednesday night had driven her to complete everything she had to work on at the moment.

Everything except the Waverly case.

Ugg, she so didn’t want to work on that right now. Every time she so much as thought about Thomas Waverly, she thought about Cade and Grant, about the way they had tortured her, about Grant’s parting words.

Just remember I’m one of the assholes you love, one of the assholes that loves you.

“One of the assholes that teased me into a freaking frenzy and left me unable to concentrate on anything but getting fucked.”

God, she ached all over. She couldn’t sit without her ass stinging in remembrance of the sharp spanking Grant had given her. He hadn’t gone easy, delivering each smack with a controlled force that had set the cheeks of her ass on fire. Then he had spanked her pussy the same way.

She braced her hands on the edge of her desk as the echoing pleasure-pained bliss that had yet to diminish shot through her core. One more slap and she would have come. She had been that close. Instead, he had left her teetering on the edge of delirium with an explicit order not to get herself off.

And you actually listened.

She bowed her head, closing her eyes as she attempted to find a strength within herself to overcome the fierce need wreaking havoc through her body. She
had
listened, though why she did remained a total mystery. She had walked around for the last thirty-five hours and—she glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen—twenty minutes so horny she could barely function, and yet she hadn’t disobeyed that single command, hadn’t even come close to doing anything to relieve the violent ache.

You don’t want to be punished again.

Hell, no. She had not listened because she wanted to be a good girl, for crying out loud.

You know nothing you can do will really help.

Yeah, that came closer to the truth. She sighed and straightened only to plop down in her desk chair feeling utterly defeated. Sure, she could masturbate, but what good would it do her? It had never helped in the past. It sure as shit wouldn’t help now that they had kissed her, touched her, told her they loved her.

Okay, only Grant had said that. Had he really meant it?

He knows you’re in love with him, with them.

And that topped the list of likely more than ten zillion mistakes she had made when it came to those two men.

A sharp rap at her office door sent the questions flying from her mind. The door opened almost immediately, and Cade walked into her office, closing the door behind him.

Justice’s pulse thudded in her ears. Instant heat spread through her system, beading her nipples, slickening her cunt, puckering her ass, and stroking her simmering temper to the point of near boiling.

His cowboy boots thudded softly on the tiled floor as his powerful legs clad in dark denim carried him to her desk. His wide biceps stretched the short sleeves of a pale blue shirt that brought out the sugary molasses of his eyes. Devastatingly handsome and pumping with confidence and authority, he sat in the vacant chair across from her desk without invitation and propped one booted ankle on the opposite knee.

“Come on in and make yourself at home, counselor,” Justice said dryly, not attempting to hide an ounce of her anger from her expression or her tone. She did hope to hide her continued arousal, though. Unfortunately, from the keen perceptiveness in the steady gaze he pinned her with, she knew she failed miserably.

“It seems I just did,” he said with a cockiness that only made her want to slap him given her current anger with him.

Justice covered her computer mouse with her hand and clicked the screen, pretending to close a document that wasn’t open as if she had been busy working when he walked in rather than sitting there beating herself up over her indiscretions.

“Why are you here? I wasn’t aware we had an appointment this morning.”

“We don’t,” Cade drawled smoothly. “I don’t need one.”

“Then you won’t mind when I tell you I don’t have time to talk right now. It’s Friday. I have a butt load of things to get done if I want to stand half a chance at getting the weekend off.”

“Part of my reason for being here concerns some of that work you need to get done. Thomas Waverly will begin psychiatric evaluations Monday with the county psychiatrist. His expert testimony will be part of our defense at the trial should you decide not to accept a plea bargain.”

“And you’re so sure his expert testimony won’t lean more to my favor than your client’s?”

“I’m positive of it.”

“You’re planning to plead temporary insanity.” She had expected it. After Cade’s statements to Thomas Waverly’s mental instabilities Wednesday night, she had figured the insanity plea would be the defense Cade would choose.

“If the results of his evaluations are conclusive, which I’m certain they will be, yes, that is my intent.”

“It won’t fly. Thomas Waverly lived for twenty-five years on the Circle M Ranch and showed no signs of mental instability. To all of the county, he was just another cowboy with a mother who was accidently murdered and a father who committed suicide when Thomas was barely out of diapers. His grandfather raised him on the Circle M and, along with the Ducote family, gave him the best life he could.”

“Until things in that life brought the turmoil of that long-ago night to the surface and built inside him to the point of consuming all rational thought,” Cade countered.

“Things in that life,” Justice repeated, lifting a brow. “Things like the Service Club. People like Justin and Ben, the Rylon brothers, you and Grant.” She leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers over her belly. “You realize if you go with this defense that somewhat secret club of yours will be complete public knowledge?”