Saddled (11 page)

She opened her eyes to find Jace standing in the room as well. Clad only in a sexy pair of black boxer briefs, water still glistening on his chest and hair, he watched her with a small smile and narrowed eyes already heated with lust. Just as her climax yawned before her, the soundless stimulation ended. "What are you doing? Turn that back on, this instant."

Marcus tsked and walked forward until he stood right in front of her. "Didn't we discuss you giving us orders?" Heat rose from his body. All of the relentless unappeased desire from the day welled up inside of her. She frowned at him. "I was about to come."

"We don't want you to, yet."

"I don't care," she said waspishly. "Turn that damn thing on again or one of you fuck me here." Amazing how a couple of days of ceaseless pleasure could lower her inhibitions—she felt no hesitation in making the demand.

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"No." With that simple announcement, Marcus startled Devi by scooping her off her feet.

She shrieked and grabbed on to his shoulders. No one had carried her since she'd been a small child. Pudginess had crept up on her at a young age, so even her father had declined picking her up. "I'm too heavy for you. Put me down."

He ignored her and spoke to his brother. "Where are the supplies?"

Supplies?

Jace studied her with predatory interest. If she hadn't already been soaked, that look would have done it. "In my room."

"Did you hear me? I'm too fat to be carried around like this."

Marcus walked out of the room and back into the grand entryway. He glanced over his shoulder. "I think the toys were a bad idea. They've made her way too contrary." He jostled her until she tightened her arms around his neck in reaction.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here. Wreck your back, see if I care. And the toy doesn't make me contrary. Hours of sexual deprivation make me contrary."

"Then you should be nicer to the men who are going to end that deprivation," Marcus explained patiently. "In the meantime, why don't you pretend your hero is carrying you off to be properly ravished instead of worrying about your damned weight?"

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Devi paused. He had a point. Once she thought past her sexual frustration, of course. She relaxed into his arms.

"Sorry. I'm not a very good heroine, I guess." He handled the dark stairs with ease, not even breathless. He turned right at the top of the stairs and entered a tidy bedroom lit by soft track lighting. Peripherally, she got the impression of heavy wooden furnishings and a huge fourposter bed. Marcus looked down at her, his face cast in shadows. "That's okay. I'm no hero." She slid her palm over his jaw, the slight stubble catching on her skin. "I think you're doing a pretty good job." Devi caught the hardening of Marcus's jaw under her hand.

"Then your judgment sucks." With that harsh pronouncement, he dropped her on her feet. She stumbled back. The backs of her knees hit the mattress behind her, and she sat down. Since they were both underdressed to begin with, it didn't take more than a minute for Marcus to kick off his jeans and Jace to skim his boxer briefs down his legs. After viewing them in the buff so many times now, Devi could make out differences in their physiques that were easier to overlook when they were decent. Jace was an inch or two shorter, his muscles lean while Marcus was bulkier.

In the package department, the twins had been blessed with equally beautiful penises. Man, when she got lucky, she really hit the jackpot. For a second, Devi was overwhelmed with the knowledge that she didn't just get one of these excellent specimens, she got two.

On loan.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

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"Like what you see?" Jace's tone was amused and indulgent.

Devi managed to tear her gaze away from his huge member and smiled teasingly. "Always."

"Take off. Your. Clothes." Marcus's hands clenched and unclenched at his side.

She responded to the heat in his gaze and stood up from the bed with a seductive little shimmy. Her shirt and bra she tossed in the same direction as their clothes. Their eyes tracked over the swell of her full breasts, and she tossed her hair. She had damn good boobs.

When her fingers stroked down to the snap of her jeans, though, she hesitated.
Cellulite. Love handles. Dimples.
Her bottom and thighs were not her friends.

Marcus must have mistaken her hesitation for a tease. "All your clothes."

Devi shot a quick glance to the overhead track lighting, even less forgiving than her bedroom lamp. "I don't guess you'd consider turning off the light this time?"

"Nope."

She sighed. "You two are the contrary ones. If I said I wanted the lights on, you'd snap them off in a heartbeat." Jace grinned. "Too bad you didn't think of that before, huh?"

Marcus shot her a disbelieving look. "We've seen you naked already, did you forget?"

She squirmed, the air-conditioning cool against her tightened nipples. "I don't like my butt, that's all. It's not attractive."

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Jace squinted at her and wrapped his hand around his bobbing cock. "Do you think we get this hard for unattractive asses?"

"Are you serious? I don't understand women at all. I like your butt. In fact, I love your butt," Marcus replied emphatically. "If you take your jeans off, I'll show you how much I love it. I'll love it so much, you won't be able to walk in the morning."

She gulped and unsnapped the top button. "Let's not get too hasty, here."

Marcus walked over until he stood right in front of her. He brushed her hands aside and took over the chore of unzipping the pants. He slid his hands inside the loosened waistband and pushed the jeans down. She wore only the Gstring/stimulator. "Too late. You've challenged me. I'll have you loving your ass as much as I do by the end of the night." Apprehension and anticipation danced along Devi's nerve endings, drowning out the twinge of self-consciousness. As her clothes pooled around her feet, Marcus tightened his hands on her waist, picked her up with little effort and tossed her back on the bed. She bounced once and then settled into the giving mattress.

Marcus crawled up her body like a hungry cat, the muscles in his biceps and chest flexing. She twined her arms around his neck and drew his head down to partake of his passionate kiss.

"So sweet," he breathed against her lips.

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112

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by Delilah Devlin

One's the loneliest number. Two's company. Three's a
fantasy come true.

Tequila Truth

© 2008 Mari Carr

The rules of Tequila Truth are quite simple. Shots are poured, a question asked, and only absolute truth can be the answer. Kylie Halston has been playing the game with her roommates, Colt and Heath, since their freshmen year of college.

On his twenty-fifth birthday, Heath poses a question:

"What is your ultimate sex fantasy?" While Colt and Heath's fantasies are too hot for words, it's Kylie's sex dream that hits a little too close to home for all of them. Her wish? For a ménage a trois with two men, complete with bondage and a bit of spanking for good measure.

Colt and Heath are only too willing to make Kylie's fantasies come true and they make a proposal—one no-holdsbarred, sexed-up weekend where nothing is off the menu. The only question is, come Monday, will their platonic relationship survive the passion?

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Tequila Truth:

"What is your ultimate sex fantasy?" Heath filled the shot glasses with Jose Cuervo.

Colt grinned while Kylie groaned. "Christ. Surely we've answered that one before?" She knew they hadn't, but this 113

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particular question made her uncomfortable. Quite frankly, she didn't think her two testosterone-laden buddies were ready to hear about her fantasies. They believed her desires to be somewhat chaste. Silly men.

The trio had been following this same tradition since the early days of their friendship. Kylie initiated the celebration, calling it Tequila Truth, explaining that birthdays should be a time of reflection. The concept of the game was simple. The birthday boy—or girl in her case—posed a question and then each member drank a shot of tequila and answered. The only rule was the answer had to be completely honest. Unfortunately, her attempt to bring deep introspection to her male roommates fell quite a bit short of the mark. They'd played the game since their freshman year of college and Heath's questions always revolved around sex.

"That's an easy one." Colt licked the salt off his hand, downed the tequila and sucked the lime. Licking his lips, he settled in for a long story. He was nothing if not an imaginative storyteller. "I've got this busty blonde all to myself on a desert island. We're stranded and she's completely at my mercy. Begging me to save her and all that crap. She's wearing nothing but a bikini top and thong, as all of her clothes were ripped off during the shipwreck." Kylie interrupted at this point. "Holy hell, Colt. Why do these imaginary women of yours always have to be blonde
and
stupid?"

Heath and Colt laughed, but she merely raised her eyebrow, waiting for his response.

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Colt stopped laughing when she failed to join in. "Oh, that was a serious question? I thought it was one of those rhetorical ones."

She grinned despite herself. Colt was the ultimate male chauvinist pig and, for some inexplicable reason, she adored him anyway. He and Heath were the best friends she'd ever had and she didn't doubt both of them would lay down their lives for her. They'd mistaken her for a male—Kyle, not Kylie—when she wrote expressing a desire to share an apartment with them during their first year of college.

"So what are you doing to this blonde with questionable intellect?" Heath, as always, was relishing Colt's detailed descriptions.

"Well, I don't know if you know this about me or not, but I'm a man who likes to be in control." She gasped, as if amazed, and laid her hand on her heart.

"No, absolutely not. I will
never
believe that of you." He grinned at her sarcasm and continued. "There's some rope that's washed up from the shipwreck and this chick is hot for me. I mean way hot. She starts begging me to take her."

At this point in his story Kylie faked a bored yawn, but he continued anyway. "I grab the rope and take her over to a coconut tree. I throw the rope over one of the low-lying branches and tie her hands above her head."

"Have you ever seen a coconut tree?" she asked. "The branches are miles off the ground."

"Shit, it doesn't matter what kind of tree. Kylie, will you let me finish?"

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"Fine," she answered shortly, pressing her thighs together. The problem with his fantasy was she knew exactly where it was going and she would be hard-pressed to hide her reaction. The idea of being tied up and left completely at a man's mercy was certainly pretty high on her list of fantasies as well. Definitely in the top five.

"So I tie her to the tree with her hands above her head. She's helpless that way and her whole body is mine to explore and possess. I pull the thong down her legs and throw it into the sea. I tell her on this island, she'll always be naked, that she will never hide her body from me. I can tell she likes the way I'm talking to her, all stern and powerful and shit, because she starts squirming and whimpering." Kylie struggled to stop reacting in completely the same way.

"I tell her to open her legs and she does. When I touch her, the woman is dripping wet and hotter than hell. I nearly come in my pants right there because I want her so bad. I reach into the back pocket of my ripped-up shorts and pull out a knife."

He paused briefly and looked at her. No doubt he expected her to make some smartass comment about the convenience of having a knife, but she was struggling to catch her breath, overwhelmed by her own arousal.

Colt, satisfied with her silence, continued talking. "I use the knife to cut off her bikini top and I have to step away because I'm telling you this girl is stacked, with a capital S. She's got these enormous big brown nipples and they are pointing straight at me."

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He continued describing the woman's body in detail until finally she cried, "Enough. I think we get the picture."

"I'm not sure I do," Heath joked and she sent him a nasty look. "Maybe visuals would help. I've got some dirty magazines in my closet leftover from high school days. We could find a model who fits your description."

"Can I help it if I'm a breast man?" Colt asked the question with a look of injured innocence that fooled her not one bit.

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" she asked and then lifted her hand in a gesture that said
continue
.

"Well, I was going to go in to detail about how I suck the life out of those babies, but I can skip ahead. You get the picture."

"Hell yeah, I do. This fantasy is a thing of beauty." Heath sighed with appreciation apparently enjoying Colt's answer to his question.

"So once we're both good and hot, I take off my shorts and tell her to wrap her legs around my waist. She's holding on to the rope around her wrists and this woman is strong. She uses her toned legs and arms to fuck the hell out of my cock while she's hanging there naked from the tree. She's driving her cunt down on me hard and it's all I can do to hold on to her hips."

She swallowed hard as she imagined the woman riding him. Problem was the blonde wasn't a blonde, but a redhead who looked suspiciously like her.

Heath adjusted his pants under the table without bothering to hide his arousal. If there was one thing she had gotten used to in seven years of living with these men, it was that 117

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