Double In (7 page)

He bent his head toward hers and held his hips still, taking
a second to regain his composure. He had to think about rebar and measurements
on his and Porter’s current construction site to keep from spewing his seed
inside her right then and there. He was that close to the edge.

Her arms folded around his neck, her legs locked around his
waist and she threw her head back on a low-throated moan of sheer ecstasy.

Reid wrapped his arm around her, held her as she arched her
back, and lowered his head when she thrust her breasts out. He swiped his
tongue over first one nipple and then the other before enveloping one in his
mouth. He eased his cock back, curled his tongue around her nipple, and slowly
pushed inside her as he feasted on her breast.

He set an easy rhythm with his cock, matched it with his
tongue, and drew nonsensical sounds from her sultry lips that sent his hunger
blazing out of control. She filled his senses with the dark taste of passion,
the sensations tightening his balls and building the pressure to agonizing
levels in his cock.

“Reid, yesss.” She hissed the word like a snake, drawing out
the “s” as he drew on her nipple with his mouth, rotated his hips
ever-so-slightly on the in-strokes, and ground his pelvis against her clit.

Her inner muscles clamped around his shaft and he knew he
wouldn’t last much longer. “God, you feel so good. Hang on, honey. Hold on.”

He shook from his efforts to remain in control, to hold her,
to bring her over the edge first. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped to her
chest and slid down between her breasts.

“I am holding on,” she panted, her fingers latching on to
his shoulders as her hips met his stroke for delicious stroke.

“You’re about to make me lose it,” he ground through
clenched teeth. He tried to center all his concentration on restraint, tried to
rein in the come about to burst from his cock head. “I’m not going to come
without you.”

“Then come with me.” Her hips thrust harder, drawing his
cock deeper and more forcefully than the pace he’d originally set. “Now!”

She came apart around him. Her inner muscles convulsed and
her fiery juices bathed his shaft as she exploded. Watching her, hearing her,
feeling
her did him in. He came with her. His release clawed its way out of his shaft
and gushed from the slit in his cock in a succession of spurts that made him
growl like an animal.

“Fuck, watching that almost made me come.”

Heart pounding, barely able to move with Reid collapsed on
top of her and near exhaustion taking over, Marsha rolled her head to the side
and found Porter standing within touching distance. She’d meant to touch him,
had fully intended to jerk him off while Reid fucked her, but once Reid had
entered her she’d been lost. Everything from her brain to her hormones had
focused on the man inside her and she’d completely forgotten about the man
watching.

Maybe this three-way thing isn’t as easy as I thought it
would be.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and let her
attention glide down Porter’s truly amazing body. His cock was still
stupendously hard, long and thick, and eagerly waiting. Desire whipped through
her, shocking her to the core. How could it be possible that she was ready to
go a third time?

She licked her lips and dragged her gaze to his. “I’m
sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Mars?”

“For not getting you off. I meant to but I, umm, kind of got
a little distracted.”

“I’m a patient man.”

Marsha lifted a brow. “Since when?”

Porter chuckled. “Since now, I guess. Darlin’, the only way
you could disappoint me tonight is if you told me you were through. I’d
understand,” he added quickly. “But, damn, I’m sure praying you’re not.”

His combination of tenderness and sincerity moved her. Even
if she wasn’t starting to burn again from the inside out with sheer desire for
him, she wouldn’t have been able to leave him unsatisfied after that.

“I’m not. Not by a long shot.” She ran her hands up Reid’s
back as she turned her head to look at him. He brushed his lips to the tip of
her nose, smiled and eased off her, out of her.

“Mind if I grab a beer?”

“Help yourself.” She straightened, stood on legs that shook
slightly, and put her hands on Porter’s biceps when he closed the distance
between them. Eyes locked with his, she started to lower herself to her knees
with full intentions of finally getting his rock-hard cock in her mouth. He
must have read it in her eyes. He caught her waist, shaking his head as a wide
grin and a glint of warning took over his expression.

“Ah-uh.” He stopped her, spun her around, and pulled her
flush against him.

Skin to skin. Oh yeah. The feel of his thick cock at the
small of her back without anything between them sent twin blades of excitement and
trepidation slicing through her. He felt bigger than Reid, not quite as long
but wider, and her pussy clenched at the anticipation of taking him inside her,
of seeing if it would fit.

“I want your lips wrapped around my cock, but the first time
you make me come it’s going to be inside this sweet little body.”

Marsha didn’t think there was a woman alive who would argue
with that. She let him bend her over, flattened her palms on the table and
spread her legs wide. She arched her back and looked at him over one shoulder,
wanting to watch him as he entered her. She managed to hold that pose for all
of three seconds as the head of his cock penetrated her opening. Then he filled
her in a quick and powerful thrust that drew a cry from her lips and took the breath
from her lungs.

She bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut as his cock
stretched her, invaded her already tender channel. Spectacular sensations
exploded through her being. Pain collided with pleasure, reaching every
erogenous zone she possessed and creating a delicious mixture of passion that
stroked every nerve ending in her body.

He stopped, buried inside her to the hilt, filling her
channel until she felt as if she might burst. He folded his body over hers, bit
the back of her shoulder, then ran his tongue over the mark.

“I can’t go slow, Mars. It won’t be gentle.”

She didn’t want slow or gentle. Not this time. Not with him.
She wanted fast, hard. She wanted him to lose all control, to let himself go
wild and fuck her.

“Are you with me?”

Marsha nodded. Oh yeah, she was with him.

“You better be. I won’t last long.”

In other words, if she expected to come again she better do
it fast. The seemingly lack of regard for her pleasure should’ve pissed her
off. Instead, it acted like an accelerant to the already burning flame in her
core. She’d known Porter wouldn’t be a tender lover. She’d never expected to
get sweet moves and pretty talk from him. She also understood the supreme
confidence that pumped off the man in waves came partly from knowing he didn’t
have to go slow, didn’t have to last long to fully satisfy a woman. Nope, with
that single invasion of his cock into her flaming pussy, she was already
clawing her way to her third orgasm of the night.

He straightened behind her, pulled his cock back and plunged
inside again, drawing yet another cry from her. He didn’t stop this time,
instead settling into a rapid rhythm that filled the air with the sounds of
their bodies slapping together, of one erotic moan after another that spilled
from her throat, of his heavy breathing as he didn’t let up. He fucked her.
There was no other word for the wild, animalistic claiming he staked on her
body.

Raking fingers of pleasure, pain, sharp sensations, and
fiery explosions of hunger ripped through her body as she pushed back with her
hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. Perspiration gathered along her back and
ass, making her flesh slick and causing their bodies to slip and slide.

“Come on, Mars. Come for me.” One arm banded around her
waist, holding her tight as he delved his free hand into the back of her hair,
fisted it and tugged.

Pleasure tore through her. She panted for air, gasping in
the inferno he’d created, and the orgasmic beast burst out of its cage. A
strangled scream left her throat as he fucked her harder, abandoning all
semblance of control. A primal growl split the air and a hot burst of semen
shot into her core, colliding with her juices as she came.

“Fuck.” He fell on top of her. His heart pounded wildly
against her back. His breath fanned over her flesh.

“Yeah,” she said on a breathless laugh. “I can’t think of a
better tag for that one.”

“Tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

But he had. Every inch of her most sensitive flesh would be
sore as hell when the euphoria wore off.

“You didn’t hurt me, at least not in any way that didn’t
feel really,
really
good.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her shoulder. “Damn, and I
wonder why I’m so fucking crazy about you.”

He did? He was? At that moment, Marsha didn’t think he
could’ve said anything that would have touched her more.

He straightened, his cock slipping out of her as he eased
back. Though sated and spent, the loss of his warmth, of having him inside her
hit her immediately just as it had with Reid. She pushed herself up and turned
as Reid walked over, a Select 55 in one hand and a Bud Light in the other.

“Thought you two might want these after that.”

Marsha would’ve preferred a tall, cool bottle of water, but
she took the beer anyway. “Thanks.” She chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she
should voice the question probing at her mind. Since she’d never been one to
hold back, she went with it. “Are you guys planning to stay the night or…?”
Okay, so she got most of the question out before she trailed off, unsure
exactly how to finish it.

Porter watched her as he took a long gulp of his beer, then
slowly lowered the bottle. “Got a problem if we stay?”

“No.” She wanted them to, wanted to wake between them in the
morning. There were still things they should probably talk about, too, but she
didn’t bring that up just yet. She needed time to think about everything that
had happened tonight, everything they’d said and, wow, how they’d
shared
her. Those things could wait until she got some time alone, time she didn’t
want now.

“Good.” Reid hooked an arm around her waist, drew her
against his side and kissed the top of her head. “We should probably try that
whole making-it-down-the-stairs thing again, don’t you think?”

Marsha tipped her head back and grinned at him. “Yeah, but
I’ll walk. Maybe we’ll actually make it this time.”

Chapter Six

“What did Blair want this morning?” Reid watched Porter as
he slung several jaggedly cut and broken pieces of drywall into the trash pile.
His brother cut him a glance and shook his head.

“To give me shit about Marsha.”

Reid rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Word sure
travels fast in this town.”

“That surprises you?” Porter cocked a brow, turned and
shoved his fingers in the pockets of his jeans to his knuckles, work gloves and
all.

“No, just wonder why people can’t mind their own business.”
Reid supposed that’s what they got for living in a small, Southern town where
everybody knew almost everybody and one couldn’t spit without rumors flying
about it.

“You should’ve expected it when we started going around her
again, showing up at Bulls Eye Billiards, getting in on the softball game…
Hell, your car or my truck or both have been outside that bar nearly every
night since Thursday. It’s not as if we’ve been keeping our thing with Marsha a
secret.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t intend to, either.” But he didn’t
want a bad word about her getting around town. He pushed out a hard breath. “I
didn’t figure Blair would be all too happy about us being with Marsha when she
got wind of it.”

“Not too happy is putting it mildly, brother. Little sister
is pissed with a capital
P
. She had the nerve to start bawling on me,
saying we’re betraying her by hooking up with Mars.”

Reid bent his head and closed his eyes. He should’ve
expected that reaction out of Blair. Hell, if he were honest with himself, he
hadn’t been thinking much about his little sister at all these last few days.

“Here’s the thing, she can say what she wants. She can cry
all she wants. I’m through playing into her poor me act. We stood beside her
when she pulled that shit on Marsha because she’s family. The only family we’ve
got left.” Porter stopped and shook his head. “Even so, it was a mistake.”

“If we’ve betrayed anyone, it’s been Marsha,” Reid said. “We
turned our back on her. You and I both know that wasn’t our intention, but it
happened just the same.”

Porter nodded. “We hurt her, and I’m not proud of that.
We’re lucky as hell she doesn’t hate us…anymore. And we made ourselves
miserable in the process. I’m not doing that again. Blair is a big girl. She’s
got a successful career, a great house and a husband who adores her. The only
thing that bar would’ve done for her was pad her bank account.”

“It wouldn’t have done anything for us, either. That’s why
we didn’t want it.” Neither of them had the time or inclination to own and
operate a bar. They’d rather be patrons.
And start an amazingly steamy
relationship with the bar’s owner.
“It gave Marsha a place in life,
stability, and it makes her happy.”

“I think Martin knew it would do all of that for her and
more.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. He was a good man, a smart man.”
Reid didn’t mind giving credit where it was deserved. There might have been
things about Martin that, as a young boy growing up, Reid wished he could’ve
changed, but he’d admired the man, respected him, and even looked up to him.

“We’ll take more flak from Blair before she’ll let it rest,”
Porter predicted.

“Think she’ll go after Marsha again?”

“She might throw a few verbal stabs her way, but Marsha will
handle her just like she did the last time.”

“Then I’d say there’s no point in us standing around
yabbering about this anymore. We’ve got work to do.” Reid looked at the sky.
“Clouds are getting closer. We’re about to be hit with a good one.”

“Last I heard the weatherman isn’t predicting it to hit
until early evening.” Porter glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s only four fifteen
now.”

“From the looks of that sky I think we’d better check the
latest forecast.” A raindrop hit Reid square in the middle of the forehead.
“Especially seeing as how it’s already starting to rain.”

“Shit.” Porter yanked off his work gloves and headed for the
portable radio perched on the sawhorse by what would soon be the front door of
the house they were building.

Reid followed at his brother’s heels. They didn’t make it
halfway there before Austin Spade, one of their carpenters on-site, started
feeding them information.

“Shit is about to hit the fan, boss. This storm that’s
coming is brutal. Fifteen to twenty mile an hour winds, golf-ball-size hail,
and a high probability for tornados. One has already been sighted in Hastings
and it’s headed this way.”

“Gather everybody. Let’s clean up, secure what we can and
shut it down for the day.” They could handle a little rain, even a little wind.
Hail and tornadoes were a different story. No way did he want to get caught outside
in the open with only a half-constructed house for shelter if the weather got
as bad as predicted.

“Yes sir.”

Porter turned to Reid. “I’m going to call Marsha and make
sure she knows what’s coming.”

Reid had been about to do that himself. His fingers were
already halfway in his pocket to dig out his cell phone. He pulled his hand
free and nodded. “All right. I’ll help get everything rounded up.”

* * * * *

“
The National Weather Service has issued a tornado watch
until five o’clock p.m. Eastern time for Marion, Hamilton and Sequatchie
counties. At four o’clock p.m. Eastern, National Weather Service Doppler radar
continued to indicate a tornado. This tornado was located near Hastings moving
east at fifty-five miles per hour. The severe thunderstorm will affect mainly
rural areas of Marion, Hamilton and Sequatchie counties. Precautionary and
preparedness actions are advised.

“
In addition to the tornado, this storm is capable of
producing golf-ball-size hail and destructive straight-line winds. The safest
place to be during a tornado is in a basement. Get under a workbench or other
piece of sturdy furniture. If no basement is available, seek shelter on the
lowest floor of the building in an interior hallway or room such as a closet.
Use blankets or pillows to cover yourself and stay away from windows. Those in
mobile homes or vehicles…
”

The voice of the newscaster faded out as Marsha focused on
the radar that consumed the screen of the television mounted to the wall in the
corner of the bar. Red, green and yellow blotches covered the map with
indicators pointing to the areas expected to be the hardest hit by the quickly
approaching storm. The newscaster had said it would mainly affect rural areas
of their county. Bulls Eye Billiard’s location wasn’t considered rural, but it
was damn close.

Being born and raised on the Mississippi Gulf Coast where
hurricanes hit with annual frequency, she’d stopped panicking over storm
threats long ago. She hated them, always got chills when one came near and
definitely took them seriously, but she kept a level head, knowing that was the
key to staying safe.

“Do you want us to help you shut this place down, Marsha?”
George Collins asked, his voice gravelly with age.

“I’m not closing, George.” She made the decision in a blink.
“I’m going to call Allie and Donnie and tell them to stay their butts at home
and then we’re going to ride this thing out.”

“You don’t want us to leave?” Clyde Newman asked, shuffling
his hefty frame from the nearest pool table to a stool at the bar.

She looked around the bar, her gaze landing on each of her
four customers in turn. They were all regulars and more like friends to her
than patrons. They were older gentlemen, all retired, all old friends of
Martin, and none of them lived in a stable enough home to safely ride out a
tornado.

“You want to go home to your trailer with a tornado headed
this way?”

Clyde shrugged, his lips set in a grim line. “If the Good
Lord is ready to take me he’ll do it just as easy here as he will at my
trailer.”

“Well, he’s not going to do it on my watch.” She reached for
the phone when it rang, heard R.J. Crawford mutter something to Clyde about her
being a stubborn woman, and hid a smile. Yeah, she was stubborn and he was an
ornery old coot, but she’d never be able to stand the guilt if a tornado hit
one of their mobile homes with them inside it when she had a perfectly safe
basement down the stairs.

“Bulls Eye Billiards,” she said into the receiver.

“Have you been watching the weather channel?” Porter’s deep
baritone flowed through the line and made her belly flutter.

“I’ve got it on now. Where are you and Reid?” The line
started crackling and she narrowed her eyes, straining her ears to hear him
clearly.

“Less than a mile from the house. We’re securing the site
we’re working on and heading that way. I—” He broke off, cursed, and started
again. “Damn it, Mars. I’d rather hightail it to you, but I don’t think we’d
make it in time. This thing is moving too fast.”

She smiled even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I’ll be
fine, Porter. You know how well this place is built. Hell, you helped build it!
I’ve got a basement downstairs and I’m no stranger to bad storms.”

“You’re closed, right?”

Her first instinct was to tell him yes, if only to ease his
worries, but she went for the truth instead. “In a manner of speaking, I
suppose. I’ve got four customers here with me and I doubt anyone will be stupid
enough to get out in this weather to come here.”

“The grumpy old men crew?”

Marsha smiled again. Porter had tagged the gentlemen with
the nickname before she came around. “Every day from four to seven.”

“Leave it to you not to send them home.”

She didn’t hear disapproval in his tone, only acceptance and
a hint of admiration. “If this thing hits as bad as they say it’s going to,
they’re safer here than at home. You and I both know that.”

“You’re right.”

“I need to get off here. I want to touch base with Donnie
and Allie and you need to finish so you can get home.”

“All right. Keep your phone close and call me if you need
anything.”

“I will.”

“Hey, Mars.”

“Yes?”

“Stay safe, darlin’.”

Marsha swallowed a lump that sudden formed in her throat.
“You, too. Both of you,” she added before cutting the connection.

“Sure is good to hear y’all actin’ like you’re ‘posed to,”
R.J. commented. “‘Bout damn time you stopped circlin’ around each other.”

Marsha turned to find the man peering out the glass front
door. “Didn’t you hear the lady on the news tell you to stay away from windows
and doors? Get away from there.”

“Ain’t no tornader out there. Damn weatherwoman ain’t got a
lick of sense. Always sendin’ out them warnings and watches and nothin’ ever
happens. False alarms just to get people scared is all,” he grumbled, but he
returned to his stool at the bar.

Good boy.
Marsha shook her head as she dialed Donnie’s
number. She spoke with him briefly, made sure he was in a safe place, and then
called Allie to do the same. By the time she hung up the phone the third time,
the rain had started to fall outside in heavy sheets, making it impossible to
see past the narrow sidewalk that lined the front of the building.

“Here we go,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over
the hail pounding on the roof. She glanced at the clock. It was four forty-six.
“And right on schedule, too.”

The words barely left her lips before thunder clamored, a
bolt of lightning illuminated the darkened sky, and the power shut off.

“Well, hell. Now all the damn beer’s gonna get hot.” Pete
Morris slapped the bar with a bony fist and frowned.

“Aww, come on, Pete. You know Martin always kept a backup
generator on the beer coolers,” Clyde reminded him, then turned his attention
on Marsha. “Unless you did something with it when you took over this place?”

“It’s still there, still working, too.” She’d actually
purchased a better one than Martin had used after the bar became hers. She
could do without electricity, but if the beers in the coolers got hot she’d
have to toss them out. A few hundred on a generator verses several hundred in
losses… It hadn’t taken her long to do the math.

“Good, then give me another one.” George slid his empty
bottle across the bar in her direction. “I might as well drink seeing as I’m
not going to be leaving any time soon.”

“Might as well.” Marsha pulled another beer from the cooler
just as the power flickered back to life. She glanced out the front windows,
noting the rain had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Hail cluttered the
parking lot, but no windows appeared to be damaged by the large balls of frozen
ice.

“That didn’t last long,” Pete commented, turning on his stool
to stare out the front.

“I don’t think it’s over yet.” Marsha twisted off the cap of
the bottle, but her gaze stayed fixed on the windows. The hairs on the back of
her neck stood. That was her first indication something was about to go
terribly wrong.

She set the beer on the bar in front of George and started
to say as much when a gust of wind and rain kicked up again. She squinted,
focusing hard on the rain, and her blood turned cold.

“That’s horizontal rain,” she said softly.

“Listen to that wind,” Clyde said.

“That ain’t just wind,” R.J. said louder, his voice shaking.
“I’ll be damned. That
is
a tornader.”

So much for false alarms.
Marsha bolted for the
basement door, flung it open and whirled back to the men. “Everybody get
downstairs. Quick.”

For four men in their upper seventies, they could move when
they needed to. Pete reached the door first, snagged her by the wrist and
pushed her in front of him.

“Go,” he bellowed.

Marsha caught the light switch on the way down, hoping the
power would stay on for at least a few more seconds, at least long enough for
the men to get down the stairs with her.