Party of Three: A H.O.T. Cops Novel (26 page)

His face was flushed, his eyes half-shut, when he cupped her cheek in his palm to murmur, “I’m gonna fuck you now, move in you.”

Another nod.

And then he began to deliver leisurely strokes, slow glides of his hard cock up into her, and she had to bite her lip because the utter fullness in that area of her body was difficult to fathom.

And it was only a moment after that when Rogan kissed her shoulder and began to slowly drive his erection into her, too.

At first he found a rhythm that opposed Ethan’s, so that as Rogan thrust in, Ethan was withdrawing, and vice versa, and there was never a second when she wasn’t taking the full brunt of an inward drive. And it was too much, just too much. “No, no,” she heard herself whimpering instinctively. And when they both stopped, Ethan looking concerned, she explained, breathlessly, “Do it at the same time. Together. Can’t take it this way.”

“Ah,” Ethan said, adding, “Sorry, baby,” in a rough whisper.

And then they began again—Ethan first, setting a steady, medium sort of pace, after which Rogan joined in, pumping into her ass at precisely the same moment.

“Unh! Unh!” she cried out at the tremendous impact—stunned, amazed. At how outrageous it felt to be fucked like this. At the fact that she was able to take it, absorb it, love it.

She’d never felt so thoroughly fucked in her life. And as she gave herself over to it completely, she shut her eyes, lifted her arms above her head, and simply soaked in all they had to give her. Every thrust from every inch of the two perfect cocks that hammered away at her in hot unison. Every kiss—on her shoulder or her breast or her mouth. Every touch—hands explored her skin, brushed over her nipples, ran through her hair, and she didn’t know or even care which touch belonged to which man now.

And then she realized the front of her body was now connecting with Ethan’s, up above the base of his shaft, in just the right way now—everything was working in perfect unison, and even though having another orgasm was the last thing on her mind, she was going to.

She even began, instinctively, to move against him, which meant taking in his plunges with more impact—but pulling away from Rogan’s a little. And then—God, Rogan did exactly what she’d stopped him from doing a few minutes ago; he switched his rhythm so that whether she moved her pelvis forward or back, she was meeting the thrust of a rigid cock.

“God! God! God!” she screamed—yet immediately realized she
could
take it now, every drive. It filled her with more sensation than she’d known a woman could handle, but she was indeed handling it.

And then, just like with the last climax, without warning she was tumbling off the edge of sanity into a mind-numbing ecstasy that had her screaming her pleasure as it blasted through her body like a freight train, unstoppable, boundless—until finally the wild roar of it began to recede.

But that was when Rogan muttered, “Aw—aw, fuck. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come in your ass, babe.”

And before he even finished, Ethan let out a low, feral groan of his own that told her he was coming, too. And as they both ejaculated into her, she thought for the first time about how close their cocks were to one another, and she wondered how they looked, side by side, going in and out of her. And would their come somehow mix, would their dicks touch each other when they pulled out of her in a moment? The thoughts, the nearly crushing sensations, poured through her as the culmination of the most intense sexual experience of the weekend so far, which of course also made it the most intense of her life.

But as they all lay there recovering—she and Ethan trading kisses, Rogan nibbling on her shoulder before she turned to kiss him, as well—she couldn’t deny that there was much more filling her senses than provocative questions about the two sturdy cocks inside her.

And as she curled up between them both a few minutes later, ready for sleep after what was easily the most mind-blowing day of her existence, she could no longer push it down. All the emotion. For both of them. Some of it old, some of it new, but all of it swirling together in her head in ways that, even amid the sex-driven euphoria still pulsing through her flesh, left a small knot in the pit of her stomach when all was said and done.

Because all these feelings for them … well, here, now, in the cabin, intoxicated with both wine and sex, she’d managed to deal with them, accept them, even appreciate the unique bliss of being between two men who not only aroused her but who she truly, deeply cared for. But tomorrow the party ended. And the wild sex ended then, too. And even if she’d started somehow accepting her confused, tangled emotions over the course of the evening—even on some level finding them acceptable—tomorrow it just wouldn’t be that way.

As she lay cuddled cozily between the two men—her head on Ethan’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, while Rogan spooned her loosely from behind, one hand on her hip—she feared she might really have a horrible question to answer when she woke up tomorrow morning.

What if she really, truly loved them both?

Chapter 16

E
than woke with the sun. It came beaming in the window, somehow fighting its way down through the tall trees around the cabin as if shining a light into his soul.

He couldn’t have imagined all that would take place this weekend; he realized now that it was easy to envision something like this, a ménage à trois, but impossible to predict how it would really turn out, all the directions it could lead. And somewhere along the way, in between all the amazingly hot sex and the joy he’d taken in watching Mira open up and be so free yesterday, he feared this had all become … more complicated than he’d planned.

Maybe he’d been naive to think it would be simple. Maybe he’d been downright dumb to involve her old boyfriend. But he’d come at it from a place of good intentions, and he’d … well, maybe he’d just approached it wearing rose-colored glasses or something. It could be damn easy to see only what you
wanted
to see sometimes.

And it wasn’t even exactly that he harbored regrets. As he looked beside him to see Mira and Rogan stretched out, asleep and naked atop the covers next to him … hell, what they’d all shared here this weekend still aroused him. On more levels than he could even process right now. Yeah, he’d gotten a little pissed at Rogan during certain moments last night, but maybe a little jealousy was worth it when he added it all up.

And damn, couldn’t say the whole thing hadn’t ended with a bang—their final round of sex last night had nearly blown his mind. Not just because of the intense arousal involved, not just because of seeing Mira experience such startling pleasure—but because something about it had been so very raw, so extremely personal.

It had been utterly strange to peer down between her legs—which she’d obligingly kept apart, the top one bent, for the entire time—and see his own dick next to Rogan’s, not an inch between them. And then to push into her, feeling not only the warm, moist tunnel of her pussy, but also Rogan’s cock through the thin barrier of flesh that separated it from his. And it shook him up a little to acknowledge that … well, it hadn’t turned him off. Somehow, in the heat of the moment, it had only added to the new and unrefined lust he’d been experiencing.

Hell, in a way he felt like … he’d lost a sort of virginity last night. Even though Rogan was the one who’d been in her ass.

Did that add to his jealousy? It had surprised him, but … no, it
hadn’t
made him any more jealous.

Only now he wanted to be there, too. He’d never had that particular inclination before, but now that he knew how damn crazed it got her, he wanted to be the one making that happen. And maybe he didn’t especially like the idea of Rogan having had a part of her that he hadn’t. So he’d have to rectify that soon.

Yep, no doubt about it, he was learning a lot of things about both of them through this little threesome. And mostly things that would expand their sex life, take it in new directions, deepen what they shared. So … if a little weirdness had resulted at times—hell, even if he’d wanted to punch Rogan in the mouth a time or two last night—overall, he supposed he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted from this birthday gift to Mira.

Now, glancing over at her again, her freshly tanned skin looking shimmery and sunkissed in the morning light, he hoped she was happy with what she’d gotten, too.

T
hough she’d thought she’d felt Ethan stirring next to her a little while ago, when Mira finally opened her eyes, she found both men in her bed, still sleeping. Both men in her bed. Wow, that idea still took some getting used to. And even though the weekend was soon drawing to a close, the memories—the reality that this had truly happened—would always be with her. Maybe someday it would all begin to grow a little fuzzier, the recollections less sharp, like the dream that somehow started all this, but it was hard to imagine. It was hard to imagine, in fact, that life would ever feel quite the same again.

Sure, she’d go back to the shop tomorrow and resume making book baskets for customers like nothing had changed. And tonight, she remembered, she had to attend her family birthday dinner, and even if she remained a little shaken up by all this, she’d walk in with a smile and no one would ever suspect that her entire sexual landscape had been forever altered over the last forty-eight hours. But she knew it would all still be churning in her mind, in her soul.

And it wasn’t just about memories. Her body felt different now. Doing something physically, she thought, truly had the ability to change you. It was something you … took inside, something that left an imprint that wouldn’t wash away. At the moment, she could still feel everything she’d done with Ethan and Rogan in her very fingertips, in her mouth; she could still feel their touches dancing across her skin. She could still feel their presence in her pussy, too—and, well, after last night, now also her ass.

She was understandably sore between her legs this morning, and her anus felt … stretched. And she knew those physical sensations would ease, but she still couldn’t envision a time when she wouldn’t, at any given moment, be simply …
aware
of how well-filled and well-used and well-fucked those parts of her body had been on her thirty-second birthday.

Part of her never wanted to leave this bed or her spot between Ethan and Rogan. It felt … safe there in a strange way. It was the place where she could love and want them both without guilt or worry.

And yet, with a wistful sigh and a long look first at Ethan, then Rogan, she gently scooted down to the foot of the bed and off, not wanting to wake either of them just yet. She needed to be alone for a few minutes, needed to clear her head.

Padding to her weekend bag, she found a pair of simple black cotton panties and a hot pink cami with black polka dots and black lace at the neckline, and slipped them on. She suffered an urge for coffee, but didn’t want to make even that much noise. The only thing she could hear right now was the song of a bird somewhere outside, and it was so peaceful, just that and the silence behind it, that she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. Quietly, she crossed the room and stepped out the door.

On one side of the cabin’s porch was the hammock where she and Ethan had made love yesterday morning, and on the other an old-fashioned glider like the one she recalled from her grandma’s backyard when she was little. She sat down on the long, sofa-like glider but didn’t set it in motion, instead leaning back against one side arm and pulling her legs up next to her, knees bent. She hugged them lightly as she looked out into the quiet green surroundings, liking the way the trees almost seemed to cocoon the house. Maybe it, again, made her feel safe, and like as long as she was here, her feelings for both men were somehow okay. Or maybe the woods and the great lake beyond seemed so big, vast, that it made her feel small—in a good way, like maybe her emotions and relationships didn’t matter so much in the big scheme of things.

But they did. She knew that. And she needed to weigh things, needed to think.

Because she’d hoped she might wake up feeling more settled, but instead she remained torn. Between Ethan and Rogan. And yes, life would return to normal in ways today—there were family parties and jobs to return to, practical matters to handle—and life wasn’t going to just stop, or appear to change dramatically to anyone who knew her. But she couldn’t deny that questions, temptations, and confusion all still warred in her brain. She loved Ethan like crazy, but the things Rogan had told her had, that quickly, burrowed their way into her skin, her heart. And the truth was, she had choices.
A
choice—one very big, important one.

God, why can’t I have them both?

But she knew the answer to that. It was because life and love just didn’t work that way. Sure, you heard about people in shocking arrangements, people who lived with more than one lover and claimed all were content and generous and happy with what they got from the relationship. Other people had open marriages and somehow, miraculously, avoided all the jealousy and conflict that made such a situation sound crazy to her. But for most people, something like that was impossible—and she wasn’t sure she believed it was so real and wonderful anyway. People
got
jealous. People wanted to be loved completely and totally—not as part of a set.
She
wanted to be loved completely and totally; she wanted to be her man’s one and only, his soulmate. She knew both Ethan and Rogan wanted to be loved totally, too.

Still, when she thought of the two men who she’d shared such profound intimacies with this weekend … both offered her such different aspects of life, love, passion. And she longed to have all of it equally.

Then she let out a sigh, upset with her very thoughts. After all, what was she thinking? Would she really consider leaving Ethan for Rogan?
Could
she? What sort of sense would that make? And how could she ever hurt Ethan that way?

Yet then she remembered Rogan in the woods, how she’d tried to fight that heat but failed. That’s what Rogan was—heat, fire. And he’d hurt her in a lot of ways back when they’d been a couple, but he’d never neglected her or made her feel taken for granted the way Ethan had the last couple of years. And Rogan was older now—maybe he’d grown up. Maybe he really
could
be the devoted, committed man she’d wanted him to be five years ago. Maybe she’d spend the rest of her life wondering … what could have been, what might have happened, if she’d let herself find out.