Blushing Violet (16 page)

A small wall stood between the entrance and the rest of the gallery, and on it hung a gigantic picture of her. With her pulse racing, she stared at the image. In it, she was giving Alia a massage. Half of the room was in black and white, the stark and austere hospital room with its machines and equipment. But the other half was bathed in vivid colors and transformed into an enchanted forest. The bed that Alia lay on was half hospital bed, half altar of flowers. The rich mahogany color of her skin shone and an elaborate crown rested against her bare head, her hair long gone to chemo. A golden butterfly perched on her hand on the unpainted portion of the room, full of stark and fragile splendor.

Carlos must have taken this picture through the open door, catching her unaware, knowing that if he saw her the beauty of the scene would be shattered by her rage.

Violet’s gaze traveled the picture, finally resting on her own image. She too had been transformed by the artist’s touch. Instead of the khakis and green top that she usually wore when she visited the children’s clinic, she wore an elaborate robe that reminded her of the gown a goddess would wear. Her hair blazed against the background of the stark hospital and lush forest, strands of red and gold seeming to almost shimmer. An expression of deep peace transformed her face into something soft and delicate, and her small smile perfectly matched Alia’s.

“Wow,” Bethany said in a soft voice and wandered away from her side.

An excited hum of conversation came from behind her and more DIA employees crowded the doorway to get a look at her. She hesitated, trapped by the beauty of the image, and the knowledge of who brought it to life. Without a doubt she knew that Morgan and Carlos had done this. To her eyes their style was as clear as a stamp.

She floated deeper into the room, inspecting each picture that she passed. Not all of them were of her, though she was in many. They focused instead on the children of the pediatric unit. Here an image of a small and frail boy in a wheelchair. Well, half of him was in a wheelchair. The other half was dressed in shining Roman armor and his wheelchair was transformed into a chariot. A look of fierce pride filled eyes that were wise beyond his years.

The next showed a little blonde girl named Jenny who Violet had often worked with. She had leukemia and had been in and out of the hospital for as long as she could remember. Here she stood in the hallway of the hospital, holding onto her IV stand. The base of the stand was the same in stark black and white, but the little girl had been transformed into an elf, complete with pointed ears. Her blue eyes were enormous in her face and her expression was one of ageless serenity. The top of her IV had been transformed into a magical staff that flamed with blue fire.

Violet drifted among the pictures, pulled from one side of the room to the other by images of such beauty that her heart ached. How long had they been working on this together? How had they managed to capture so many images of her without her knowledge?

Toward the back of the room the walls had been formed into the shape of a small alcove and she approached it with her pulse thundering in her ears. She knew what lay on the other side of that wall. The banner hung over the entrance said it all.

My Violet.

Each step that took her closer was like walking through a heavy surf. Her legs seemed to weigh a thousand pounds one second, and the next they no longer even felt as if they were attached to her body. Her mind was strangely silent, but her body hummed and clamored for the men that were so close, but eons away.

Reality slammed back into place as she rounded the corner and caught sight of them.

Morgan and Carlos stared back at her with impassive expressions on their faces, but their eyes held enough emotion to bring her to her knees. Rather than face them, she turned to the four remaining pictures and gasped.

She looked beautiful.

Each portrait was taken of her as she slept and reflected the different seasons. In one picture she slumbered on a bed of white ermine and crimson sheets in the middle of a snow-covered birch forest. Holly was woven through her hair and snowflakes a few shades whiter than her pale skin covered her in a fall of sparkles. A small smile curved her lips and she wondered what she had been dreaming about.

The next showed spring. Once again she was on a bed, but this one was made of branches growing together to form an elaborate headboard and frame. A thin sheet the fresh green color of the buds on the trees barely covered her, leaving her thigh and the curve of her bottom exposed as she curled on her side like a child. That same secretive smile was on her lips as a blossom drifted eternally through the air toward her outstretched hand.

Carlos’ voice stroked over her, raising goose bumps on her skin as he said, “Do you like it?”

She moved on to the picture of summer, all golden colors and her hair flaming like a bonfire. “They are beautiful.”

Morgan’s voice came from over her other shoulder. “I had the hardest time getting the color of your hair right. I had to beg Dr. Paolo to let me sneak into the hospital so I could look at you.”

Someone’s jacket brushed against her back and she froze, feeling the heat of both of their bodies. “Sounds a bit stalkeresque to me. And taking pictures of me in my sleep could get you jail time in some states.”

Carlos sighed and stepped closer. “My dad forbade me from seeing you in his hospital, so I sweet-talked the PICU into letting me to take pictures of you there.”

She didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. Feeling as if she was doing one of those silly trust exercises they were so fond of in therapy groups, she let herself lean backward, secure that they would catch her before she hit the ground. Her shoulders made contact with their solid chests and a shudder ripped through her body.

Fuck what strong women were supposed to do. She needed them like she needed sunlight and she’d been slowly dying on the inside without them.

“I’m so tired of hurting,” she said in a soft voice and closed her eyes, breathing in deep their scent.

They reached across her at almost the same moment and held her close. Both men nuzzled her hair and Carlos said, “You can punish me for the rest of my life, just please don’t leave me.”

Morgan stroked his hand down the side of her face with a slight tremble in his touch. “Beat me, chain me up, call me every horrible name you can think of. I deserve it all and more, just please don’t leave me.”

“No,” she said in a weary voice.

The both froze behind her, turning as stiff as living statues. “I see,” Carlos said and started to step away.

With the loss of his heat at her back she felt chilled from the inside out. “No, you idiot. I don’t want to beat you. Submissive men do nothing for me. They’re so damn needy.”

Morgan spun her around and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Please, give us a chance.”

“Us?” Her lips narrowed into a line as her fading anger flared. “You still both want to date me? Even now that your little game is over?”

Carlos put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “It was never a game with us, Violet.”

“It was a stupid, immature, idiotic plan that got way out of hand,” Morgan added and placed a kiss on her palm.

Carlos’ dark eyes held her as he stroked his thumb over her lips. “We want to show you how well we can work together for your pleasure.”

Morgan nibbled her fingertips, with a hint of teeth scraping her skin. “We’ll wait as long as you want, do anything to earn your trust back.”

The proper thing to do would be to make them grovel and beg, ignore and punish them until she had her emotional vengeance. Good thing she wasn’t a proper woman. “Your place or mine?”

Carlos stared at her while Morgan burst into laughter and stood next to him. Looking from one to the other, her heart surged, purging some of the bitter pain that had filled it, joy pouring in to fill its place. Each man grabbed her hand and she practically flew past the startled crowd and out the door as they raced to take her home.

* * * * *

They ended up at her place and Adam had been overjoyed to see them. Each of them took a moment to greet the four-legged man of the house before Violet kicked off her heels and started to tear at their clothing. Adam took off for the peace and quiet of the guest room as buttons flew and both men were soon naked and very aroused.

There was no time for play, that would come later. Right now she had to have them inside her, fucking the life back into her. Proving they were here, not something dreamed up by her wounded heart. Her body was certainly ready, the flesh of her pussy swollen and wet as she licked her palms and grabbed their shafts in her hands. Each man made a sound low in his throat as she stroked them, her wet fists pumping their cocks.

“On the couch.” She released Carlos and pushed him back, shimmying out of her panties.

He complied and looked over her shoulder with a nod. Before she knew it her dress was pushed up over her hips and she was bent over with her mouth inches away from Carlos’ erection. Her protest died on her lips as Morgan kicked her feet apart and went to work on eating her pussy like a starving man.

At her first moan Carlos guided her mouth to his cock and grunted as she took as much of him into her as she could. She wanted it hard and fast, and she took that urge out on his cock. She would suck as much of him in as she could, loving the way he tensed and groaned beneath her. Morgan wasn’t in the mood for teasing either, and he quickly drew a small, hard orgasm from her with his mouth between her legs. Little aftershocks trembled through her as Carlos stroked his fingers over the space where her mouth met his cock. A sudden coolness at her back let her know Morgan was gone. She tried to see where he went, but Carlos began to fuck her face in earnest and all she could do was lick and suck him. The thought of him fighting off the orgasm that she was trying to tear from him made her already wet pussy throb.

He was deep in her throat when Morgan grabbed her ass and spread her cheeks, pouring lube over her bottom. A shudder of anticipation had her bucking her hips into his hand as he slid first one, then two fingers into her bottom. It burned and she loved it.

Morgan withdrew his fingers and gave her a hard slap on the ass. “Be a good girl and stuff Carlos’ cock into that hot, wet cunt of yours, my Violet.”

Carlos slipped on a condom as she hiked her dress around her waist and straddled him. There was something very erotic about still wearing her dress while they were naked. Morgan reached around from behind her and pulled her breasts free from her halter top, squeezing and tugging on her erect nipples as Carlos slowly slid inside of her.

A little sob tore from her throat as she finally had him sheathed all the way inside. She cupped her hands over Morgan’s and whispered, “I want you inside me.”

“Fuck him first,” Morgan breathed into her ear. He sat down next to them on the couch and stroked his cock while she licked her lips. Carlos pulled her attention back to him by reaching beneath her skirt and giving her clit a hard pinch. The pleasure-pain rocketed through her and she could only close her eyes and ride the sensations.

Carlos’ cock scraped against the swollen tissue of her pussy as he gripped her hips and forced her to ride him hard and fast. Her breath came out in a little pant each time her clit made contact with his pelvis and he rocked her hips back and forth, grinding her against him. The edge of her orgasm rapidly approached and she became lost in her body connected with his.

He abruptly stopped her and held her still as she made little pleading sounds. “She’s about to come. Her pussy is tight and snug around my cock and her nipples are a fantastic hot-pink color.”

To her surprise, Morgan fingered her ass and she shuddered. He gave her a slap on her bottom. “You will not come until we tell you to.”

All she could do was nod and sob as he gently pushed her forward. Carlos cradled her against his chest, her ass up and open in the air. A moment later foil ripped and Morgan began to slide his long cock into her ass. The pain was intense and she squirmed against Carlos while he groaned.

“Fuck, she’s going to make me come without even moving.”

Morgan grabbed a handful of her hair, tipping her head back so he could whisper in her ear. “Do you feel that? Do you feel my cock pushing into you…rubbing against Carlos’ cock…filling you.”

“Yes, Master,” she said as she fought to keep her body still. It was true, she could feel where Carlos’ and Morgan’s cocks pressed against each other inside her. The sensation was amazing, despite the pain of his intrusion. She was very glad that she had continued to play with her ass while they were apart, otherwise the pain would have been too much.

Right now, it was perfect.

When Morgan was finally all the way inside her, he stayed still while Carlos began to move. Long, slow drags that quickly drove her to the edge. She trembled, biting her lip and resting her head on Carlos’ chest. Morgan reached around and played with her nipples while Carlos held her ass cheeks open.

Her desperate moans became pleading as they both began to move. She tried desperately to think of something, anything that would keep her from coming. Each stroke pulled a “please” from her lips until she said it in a mindless chant.

Carlos groaned. “I can’t hold out much longer. This feels fucking fantastic.”