BlowingitOff (10 page)

And the next morning she’d moved to Morpeth and set about
forgetting that society-bucking HEA. That fantasy. That future.

Six months later, after she’d finally achieved it, her world
went up in smoke.

Stomach churning, she opened her eyes and looked at the glass
sculpture commissioned by the Prime Minister’s office—two forms of towering
strength and impossible beauty. Will and Damon. She remembered blowing it,
remembered the utter joy and perfect contentment that had thrummed through her
while she’d created the stunning piece. She’d thought those emotions had to do
with the artwork itself, but now she realized it was the subconscious subject
matter.

Damon Hunt and William Bradley.

Once friends, then lovers, then figures from her past and
now…what?

Her future? The future she’d wanted six months ago that they
had rejected?

Her heart thumped harder.

No, they had been right all those months ago. They were her
fantasy and the fantasy was over. Even if they’d had a change of heart, that’s
what they had to be. She could live with the backlash of such a fantasy
fulfilled, but they couldn’t. Wild threesome sex. That’s all they had and all
they could ever have. And that wild threesome sex was done and done.

Even though her heart was telling her in no uncertain terms
what Will and Damon were proposing was right and wonderful on every
level—physical, emotional and psychological—she had to listen to her brain. For
once in her life, she had to listen to her brain and her brain said it was
wrong. The fantasy was just that—fantasy. When they walked back into her home
she would tell them emphatically, before they could touch her and completely
destroy her resolve, that it was over.

She had to. It was the only sane thing to do.

Since when have you been sane?

She dropped her gaze to the glass shard in her hands—the
accidental dildo—and bit back a frustrated snort. The only thing left from her
studio fire. Damn it, if Harvey was here right now she’d throttle him. Not for
destroying her studio, but for bringing Will and Damon back into her life.

And once again, we see how messed up you truly are,
Phoebe Masters. No wonder you don’t care about what the real world thinks, you
don’t seem to function in it!

A loud knock on her door made her jump. “Idiot,” she
grumbled under her breath. Tossing the glass shard onto the cushion beside her,
she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the heavy pressure on her chest.

Just say no, Pheebs. Open the door, say thanks for your
offer but no thanks, and then close the door straight away. Before either of
them can try to change your mind.

She crossed the room, mouth dry, pulse too damn fast.
Wrapping her fingers around the metal handle, she took a deep breath and slid
the door open.

Damon grinned at her from the other side. “Hey honey, we’re
home. Did you miss us?”

The door slid farther open, revealing a towering Will
studying her with serious eyes.

She opened her mouth.

“Don’t even think about saying no, Pheebs,” he said.

She closed her mouth again.

A small grin curled the corners of his lips and Damon burst
out laughing. “You called it, Tiny.”

She stood still, staring at them, her pulse not just fast
now, but pounding. Her nipples pinched tight, straining against the cotton of
her T-shirt with insistent need. The friction sent a hot shard of awareness
down into the pit of her stomach and she pressed her thighs together.

Thanks, but no thanks. Thanks, but no thanks.

“Thank you for catching Harvey,” she croaked finally,
determined to follow her plan. “I appreciate your efforts.”

“Of course you do.” Will’s smile curled deeper. “But
Harvey’s not the arsonist we’re after anymore.”

She swallowed. “He’s not?” If they were going back to
Newcastle on a new case, why was she so bloody disappointed? That’s what she
wanted, after all.

Will shook his head, his stare holding hers. “
You
set
a fire alight in us both, Ms. Masters. We’re planning to take our time
investigating it.”

“
And
you owe us an answer,” Damon murmured, “and, as
Tiny already said, don’t even think about saying no.”

She sucked in a short breath and gave them both an
unwavering gaze. “It has to be no.”

Damon straightening from the doorjamb. “I’m so glad you said
that, Masters.”

Phoebe blinked. “Why?”

“So we could do this,” Will answered, and crossed her
threshold with one step and crushed her mouth with his.

His tongue took command of hers, mating with it in hungry,
fierce strokes. His hands snared the back of her shirt and balled into fists,
holding her trapped against his hard body. And it
was
hard, in all the
right places. His thighs pressed to hers, long and lean, his erection jabbing
at her belly through their clothes.

She couldn’t help herself. She threaded her arms up around
his shoulders and buried her fingers in his hair at his nape, rolling her hips
to grind her mons against his rigid cock as she did so. He groaned into her
mouth and she moaned back, low and willing. Willing for Will to take more from
her.

He answered the wordless plea. As did Damon.

Without prompting, Damon slammed the door shut, stepped
behind her and wriggled his hands between their bodies, finding the button of
her fly with deft fingers. He popped it open and before she could respond—and
really, how could she when Will claimed her lips with such brutal mastery?—he
slid down her body, tugged her jeans over her hips and down her legs as he did
so.

“Fuck, I love your backside, Masters.” Damon licked the tip
of his tongue up the curve of her right cheek, from the back of her thigh to
the base of her spine. “It’s so tight and smooth and perfect.” A shiver of
carnal delight rippled through her, turning her nipples to twin points of
aching want.

Will pulled from the kiss, nostrils flaring, and slid his
hands up under her shirt. His palms grazed her breasts, cupped each
pleasure-swollen form with a kneading pressure until she whimpered. “Your breasts
are equally perfect.” He dragged his thumbs across the tips of her puckered
nipples, watching her response just as Damon ran his fingers down the seam of
her butt.

She bucked, her breath catching, her pussy constricting with
urgent need.

Will took advantage of her cry, capturing her throat with
his lips and teeth in a searing assault that made her head swim and her knees
turn to jelly. She writhed in Will’s arms, Damon’s lips and tongue working
their magic on her as the man explored every inch of her butt. Every inch. When
he slid the tip of his tongue over the clenching hole of her anus, her knees
shook again, enough to make her fall against Will’s chest.

“Will…” She moaned, gazing up at him through heavy eyelids.
“This can’t…this is…”

Damon’s tongue wriggled against her anus, an insistent
pressure so deliriously pleasurable her words were lost to her. His fingers
spread her arse cheeks wider, exposing her to his ravishing mouth. He stabbed
at her hole with quick, wet thrusts, driving her higher and higher into a hot
frenzy. Will held her, one hand on her breast, teasing her nipple, the other
anchored to the base of her spine, fingers splayed wide.

“This is right, Pheebs,” Will murmured, staring down at her
face. His gaze held her as surely as his arms, the brilliant brown eyes ablaze
with lust. “And you know it. You want it as much as we do.” He lowered his head
and pressed his lips to the base of her throat. “And we want it so much we’re
not taking no for an answer.”

She moaned a sound of sheer supplication that vibrated all
the way through her body. Damon laved her anus with his tongue again, intense
excitement unfurling through her, wrapping around her very soul.

She moaned again, pushing her arse back into his face, her
thighs spreading. He understood her wordless request, sliding the fingers of
one hand over her butt to her sodden slit.

“Oh yes.” Her words left her in a gasping cry.

“I want to fuck this arse, babe,” he groaned against her
backside. “I want to sink into your tightness and pump you until you scream.”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“I want to fuck your gorgeous pussy,” Will murmured, the low
statement making her breasts grow heavy and full with need. “I want fill you
with my come as Damon fucks your arse.”

“Oh yes!” She writhed between them. “Yes, I want that. Now.
Please, now!”

As one, Damon and Will moved. Damon rose to his feet and
hauled her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around Will’s waist, her back
resting against Damon, and the two men carried her to the bed, neither saying a
word. They didn’t need to—she could feel their desire in their straining
bodies, their urgent erections. Will’s pressed to the spread junction of her
thighs, barely contained by his jeans, and Damon’s nudging the small of her
back. She closed her eyes and laughed at their awkward journey across the room,
even as waves of constricting heat rolled through her.

Aren’t you meant to be saying goodbye right about now?

“Oh, no fucking way.”

The words left her on a ragged breath, barely audible to her
own ears. When Will and Damon deposited her across her bed, their hands
removing her clothes without delay, she wondered why she’d ever considered
saying goodbye in the first place.

When Will slid his body—as naked as her own—up her
stretched-out length, his rigid cock nestling against her swollen, sodden pussy
lips, she wondered why she’d ever left them in the first place.

When Damon’s mouth slanted over hers, his tongue teasing
until she whimpered, Will suckling one breast and then the other, she wondered
how she even had the capacity to think. It all felt so good. So damn good.

“We love you, Masters,” Damon murmured against her lips.
“You know that, right?”

“Love you and never plan on letting you go again,” Will
continued, his fingers stroking over the nipple his mouth had been worshipping
only seconds ago.

She parted her lips, her throat thick. “I…”

Damon raised his head, enough to grin down at her. “Shhh.
Don’t say anything yet. We still have our final argument to make.”

“And trust us,” Will tweaked her nipple, “it’s a very persuasive
one.”

Chapter Eight

Without a word, Will flipped onto his back, taking Phoebe
with him. Damon stepped back long enough to retrieve the tube of lube he’d used
earlier, watching Phoebe reposition herself atop Will’s body as he did so.

His dick ached, a rod of agonizing steel. They’d both made
their intentions clear—Damon wanted to sink his cock into Phoebe’s arse and
Will wanted her pussy. But first, Damon had to taste her cream.

“Stick your backside up in the air, Mastesr,” he ordered,
tossing the lube on the bed beside her.

She did as he commanded, giving him a sideward glance as she
did so, her lids heavy, her lips parted.

“Good. Now stay that way while I fuck your cunt with my
tongue.”

He moved back to the bed, running his hands up and down her
thighs as he climbed onto the mattress. Two sets of eyes watched him.

A slow smile pulled at his lips. It didn’t take a genius to
see Will was on the edge, and Damon was right there beside him. Just the sight
of Phoebe doing as she was told, offering her naked, exposed sex to him, was
enough to drive Damon mad with need.

Enough to push him to the edge of oblivion without a single
caress of her fingers or lips on his flesh.

“Phoebe,” he said, his voice raspy, “don’t move. I want you
to stay still as I eat your pussy and Will sucks on your tits.”

Her eyes dilated, her breath becoming choppy. She nodded.
Just a simple, single nod. And then she let out a moan, her eyes drifting
completely closed as Will raised his head to her breasts and stroked his tongue
over one puckered nipple.

For a long moment she stayed just like so—a sculpture of
sublime pleasure poised for life above Will’s sweat-glistening body, her eyes
closed, her neck bowed, her breasts captured by his mouth and hand, her spine
arched in a line of aching need. To Damon, she’d never looked so beautiful. So
perfect.

And she was theirs. And they, hers.

He sucked in a sharp breath, the scent of sex flowing
through his nose and over his tongue. Her folds glistened, juices trickling
from her as pleasure took hold. He touched one finger to her pussy, then
another. Her clit seemed to swell before his eyes and he drew in another
breath, this one shaky and unstable. Christ, he wanted to do this every night.
Every morning. Every fucking afternoon.

A low whimper vibrated through Phoebe and he shot her a
quick look. Will had moved his attention to her other breast, his fingers
pinching and pulling the nipple no longer in his mouth. His friend’s eyes were
closed, his cheeks sunken as he sucked on her flesh.

A thing of beauty. Their woman being pleasured by them. Only
them.
Both
of them.

With a low, eager growl, Damon repositioned himself on the
mattress, planting his knees on either side of Will’s extended legs before
lowering his head to Phoebe’s sex. He flicked his tongue up the length of her
slick seam and back down again, teasing her clit. She bucked a little, but
otherwise did as he’d ordered—remained still.

“Oh God…” she moaned.

He dipped the tip of his tongue a little deeper into her
pussy.

She moaned again, her thighs quivering.

The sounds of Will feasting on her breasts played over
Damon’s senses and he plunged his tongue fast and hard into her sex. She let
out a cry, pushing her backside with demanding force to his face.

He snared her hips with his hands and held her still,
feeding on the warm musk of her pleasure as much as he was the appreciative
groans of his best friend.