Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

BOOK: Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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“I’m coming,” she moaned, her back arched, and her legs trembled around Gabe’s hips. Starbursts of color flashed across her eyes, bright and dazzling as the New Year’s fireworks igniting some other midnight.

“Me, too,” Lincoln growled behind her, his movements speeding up, his thrusts deeper, more demanding, almost too much to survive, but if she could pick a way to die, this would be it. The intensity and pleasure was too amazing to deny.

“God, Mal,” he whispered into her hair, her head thrown back against his shoulder. “I love you.” Lincoln’s words were rough, distant as she cascaded over the brink, swirling down into her orgasm.

Lincoln screamed her name again as he came, his cock jerking inside her. His body shook. His arms wrapped around her, his fingers maintaining their dizzying circular movement as Gabe continued to thrust into her, shoving through each convulsion and contraction.

Exhausted by her release, she slumped forward, burying her face in Gabe’s neck as Lincoln eased back from her. She tried to focus on the sensation around her, to ground herself in the continued fullness of Gabe inside her, the smell of both men along her skin. But it all appeared distant and blurred, like looking through crystal.

Mallory took long, deep breaths, filling her lungs with the spicy male scent of her lovers and the musk of sex filling the room. The bed sank and rebounded as Lincoln slipped off to deposit his condom. Gabe’s hand combed through her hair, helping to calm her as she battled for control.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and another below her ear before he whispered, low and seductive, “You don’t think you’re done, do you?”

Shaky, she picked her head up from his chest, looking down into Gabe’s eyes. His overly confident lead man bravado shone through, the smile on his lips wicked, curling her insides. “I’m not done yet.”

He swirled his pelvis, his still-hard cock circling inside her. His palms stroked her hips, glided along her stomach until they reached her pussy. He brushed her clit, her cunt clenching around him, rekindling her need. But after only a brief touch, he retreated, leaving her wanting.

“I think it’s time you do some of the work.” He gripped her thighs, hoisting her farther over his torso.

Mallory giggled, the sound morphing into a moan as she pushed up and dropped back down on Gabe’s lap. His hands smoothed up her stomach, captured her breasts, and tugged on her nipples as she rode him. She gasped at the pinch, his thick shaft pulsing inside her, buried in her to the very limit.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged through gritted teeth. He gripped her ass, propelling her movements. His nails scored her flesh, inciting her. She bit her lip, her hands clutching Gabe’s shoulders as she increased her speed, riding him fast and hard.

Mallory would have thought, with each progressive orgasm, climax would become harder to achieve. Yet her body reacted the opposite way. Pleasure already threatened to overwhelm her again, only minutes after her previous orgasm.

Beneath her Gabe groaned. His eyes slid closed in pleasure, his hands gripping her thighs. His fingers clenched her tight, his touch forceful enough to make her pussy ripple.

“Yes,” he moaned, holding her steady as he pushed his hips off the mattress, slamming into her.

Her body spasmed, overwhelming her with pleasure until she fell to the bed, exhausted.

Her rock-and-roll fantasy had to come to an end on a sizzling high note.

Her chest tightened at thought as she slid away from Gabe, suddenly in need of space, a moment to regain her control. She hadn’t allowed herself to consider before what would happen after New Year’s was over, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about the lonely future before her. Her time between these men was over. There wouldn’t be a second night or a long extended weekend. There was no relationship beyond this road stop.

Mallory took a deep breath, memorizing and mourning the loss. Her experience, pinned between these men, was already starting to fade. Like a dream, or a vision, which had never been real at all.

She’d never thought she’d be here, sandwiched between two men who knew how to please her, who cared for her. She’d never prepared herself for what she’d feel, for how she’d want to stay.

She’d made a resolution to get laid, to have some fun, but she’d never anticipated the sadness and distance that now overwhelmed her. Her mind tangled in thoughts and emotions she shouldn’t have, she had no right to feel, that would only hurt her more the longer she allowed them to continue.

Gabe rolled her onto his side, wrapping around her body like a mitten around a chilly hand, not allowing her to escape from her throbbing heart. Lincoln returned to the bed, enfolding her from the other side. Her two men held her as her restless mind drifted off to an exhausted slumber.

Chapter Seven

“Three-fifty, ma’am,” the glum tollbooth operator stated from her glassed-in stall. Mallory couldn’t blame her for her terse words. Running a tollbooth at 5:00 a.m. on New Year’s Day must be on the list of world’s worst jobs.

Mallory riffled through her bag, pushing aside receipts, her cell phone, and ticket stubs, searching for her wallet. She tried to remember if she’d shoved the leather contraption into her purse during her predawn cleanup, but the entire episode was a haze of uncertainty and panic Lincoln and Gabe would wake up before she’d escaped. If she’d somehow left it behind, she might have to stay here and work this booth until she paid her toll. She wasn’t going back there for anything.

The vehemence of her thoughts surprised Mallory. She’d never been one of those girls to get all sentimental and upset that a man only wanted one night with her. That’s just how some men were. After years of one-night stands, she’d become used to moving on. She’d never had a problem before returning to the scene of a one-night stand, especially for something as vital as her wallet.

But this time was different. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. If she had to, she’d replace every credit card and identification in her wallet. But she wasn’t going back to that bus.

Her fingers crested a mangled piece of paper she didn’t recognize, smoother and softer than the cheap paper Mallory usually used for notes. Pulling the sheet out from the dark confines of her purse, she looked down at the soft green paper covered with shiny ornaments and sparkling snowflakes.

Though it had only been a few weeks ago, she’d almost forgotten about the gathering of her friends just before Christmas. It had been a long time since she’d been so comfortable and unguarded. Seeing all her friends from back in her teaching days, combined with great food and a good wine, had made her feel like herself again. Not the prickly, lonely woman she was forced to be on the road.

Plus, the gathering had given her a chance to pull at her uptight friend Giselle’s tautly tuned strings a few times. It was always so easy to irk Giselle. The fun of seeing her face go red and her ears stick out in anger hadn’t worn off in their many years of friendship.

Though she’d mocked Giselle’s for her belief that writing down what she wanted in a man on the elaborate holiday paper would bring that same man to her, she’d still written a list along with her friends. After all, it was worth a try, and it had been kind of fun to fantasize.

She must have thrown the list in her purse after that. She hadn’t thought of it since. What was the point?

“Ma’am.” The tollbooth operator’s irritated voice grated on her already fragile nerves. “It’s three fifty to go through the toll.”

“Of course.” Mallory continued to scrounge through her purse, her fingers cresting over leather behind the crumbled holiday list. Mallory bit her lip to keep back her scream of triumph at the find. She slipped four crisp bills from her wallet and handed them over to the woman in the tollbooth.

Her fingers still gripped the pricy card stock between her fingers, though she couldn’t explain why. The stupid paper shouldn’t mean anything. It was just a silly game played between girlfriends. She should just toss away the list with the same concern as novelty party hats from last night.

The rounded barricade in front of her car shook as it rose. Mallory tossed the frilly Christmas paper into the passenger seat beside her, using her other hand to wind up her window. She drove slowly through the stop, forcing herself to focus on the road. The suddenly itchy sheet covering her eyes distorted the road before her.

She made it less than a mile before she pulled over to the shoulder. The car jerked as she quickly shifted into park. She plucked the flamboyant holiday paper from the cloth bucket seat beside her, reading over the traits listed, detailing her dream man. Each item on the list echoed through her mind, evaluated against Lincoln and Gabe. She couldn’t have written a more perfect list to describe the two of them, not one or the other, but the two of them together.

Mallory’s chest suddenly felt tight, her breath difficult to hold. She bit her lip and swallowed, hoping to dislodge the thick film covering her throat, fighting back against the emotions trying to climb out. She was stronger than those feelings. She had to be.

She blinked, trying to clear the moisture evading her sight as she pulled her cell phone from her purse, flipped it open, and dialed the numbers automatically.

Pressing it to her ear, she heard the click of the other end picking up, but before they could speak, Mallory whispered into the phone, “Will you meet me?”

* * * *

Lincoln swallowed, rubbing his face into his pillow. The light fragrance of Mallory dappled the fabric, the aroma of oranges and cinnamon combined with a heady dose of sex lingered across the silk. His body responded instantly, the scent alone enough to make him hard again.

Lincoln reached his hand out for Mallory’s soft body. But only smooth sheet caressed his fingertips. All signs of the woman he and his best friend had spent all night pleasuring absent from the bed.

She couldn’t be gone. Lincoln spread his arms farther into the silk. She must be here. She couldn’t have skipped out on them after the most amazing night of sex in their lives. She wouldn’t have left them, not after everything they’d shared, everything they wanted to give to her.

“Linc, you can stop feeling up the bed. She left.”

Lincoln opened his eyes to see Gabe leaning against the doorway between the bedroom and living area of the bus. He held his guitar in his hands, as if he’d just finished playing, though Lincoln couldn’t recall hearing any music. His hair was disheveled from sleep, his chest bare. “What do you mean she left?” Lincoln rubbed his eyes, as if the morning blur would change the truth he’d awoken to.

She wasn’t the first woman to slip out on them in the middle of the night, but Mallory was different. Being together, the three of them, had been incredible beyond words. Better than any roaring crowd or Top Forty hit. She gave herself to them so freely, demanding and wanting with the same intensity and abandon they felt for her.

They could make more hits, play more engagements, earn more money. A woman like her was once in a lifetime.

“She was gone when I got up.”

Lincoln could hear the pain in his friend’s voice, and detested it. Almost as much as he hated the ache in the center of his own chest. How could she give away everything they’d found together, all the passion, and even love, they offered? It was the only explanation for why he suddenly felt so empty. His heartbeat reverberated in his chest, like a sad, mournful echo in a vacant stadium.

“I was waiting for you to wake up before we went after her.” Gabe’s voice interrupted, rough and raw, like old, rusty metal.

Lincoln sat up in bed, pushing back against the headboard. He pulled the sheets up to his torso. His gaze focused down. He couldn’t stand to look up at Gabe’s warm, hopeful eyes. The pain in his chest was like a deep aching hole he didn’t wish to burden his friend with. She’d left them. The woman he was sure they both wanted to spend their lives with. The one woman who had ever made them think this arrangement could be permanent.

“We are going after her, right, Linc?” Gabe’s voice was stern. The sound of the strings reverberating and the clunk of the body hitting the floor alerted Lincoln that he’d placed his guitar against the back wall, as if preparing to fight.

Lincoln released an exasperated breath. He wanted to go after her. More than anything in their bizarre rock-and-roll world, being with Mallory made sense. But he couldn’t be sure she wanted them, too. She’d walked away from them. She’d stolen out on them in the middle of the night. She’d left them without a note or good-bye, as if they didn’t matter to her at all.

Could she be interested in pursuing a relationship with the two of them? Their situation would never be normal or average. That didn’t bother him or Gabe. They’d passed normal two platinum records ago.

But if she had left because she wanted something normal, like what everyone else had, how could they deny her that? She may lead a different lifestyle, living on the road, interviewing bands, spending more time in tour buses and hotel rooms than her own home, but maybe they were wrong to believe she’d be open to a relationship like theirs would be.

Lincoln had always known it would be hard when he and Gabe finally found their match. Until now he hadn’t realized it would be hardest on Mallory. She might have to give up the people she loved, the future she dreamed of. They couldn’t force her to do that.

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