Gemini (5 page)

He was gone and Clay was there instead. He’d worn a black tee that was off now, his muscular chest and arms bare. His black fatigues were already open, his cock hard and thrusting out. And large, again, like it was required for membership in this little club of theirs.

He didn’t touch her except to turn her around. “Hands on the bar,” he instructed. With no more than that, he gripped her hips, lifted her a bit to accommodate him, and thrust into her from behind. He met her gaze in the mirror over the bar and watched as he thrust roughly again, pushing further, grinding in.

Holding there, his gaze went to her breasts. He fucked her again and she knew he watched as her breasts jiggled with the force of it. Seeming to like that, he did it some more.

Then he paused again, waiting for her to bring her reflected gaze to his again. When he was satisfied he had her attention, he moved one hand until his finger pressed at the opening to her ass. Slowly, he began to work his way in.

“Oh. No.”

He paused, somehow keeping pressure up there without moving any further. Something about it—his hot gaze in the mirror, that foreign, gritty feeling of slightly indecent invasion—something impelled her to give in.

“Yes.”

Victory gleamed in his eyes. He shoved his finger in, following it with a thrust of his cock that pushed him deeper. He wrapped a dark arm around her, his big hand covering her breast. She arched back against him then, giving him what he wanted. Offering herself.

With a triumphant growl, he pushed another finger into her.

She took it with quiet acceptance, even as he scissored his fingers, reaming her. His hand was hidden between their bodies. He watched her carefully in the mirror. Somehow, she knew this base sort of domination, the way he penetrated her ass, was just between them. Quietly allowing it, she entered into illicit collusion with him.

He gave her little time to consider the significance of that. He simply went about fucking her, as though he hadn’t just breached her in the most profound way. As though any part of her was his, for his use however he wished.

Hard fucks into her drove his fingers further. She was stretched around him nearly to his last knuckles. It resulted in exquisite simulation, causing extreme stretch of her pussy and tightening of her clit. He worked vigorously into her, apparently after nothing but his own satisfaction.

There was no gentle concern for her. No suggestion that he held himself back, considerate of her needs or awaiting her orgasm. Silently, he watched her in the mirror. The soft grunt of his exhalation as he pumped into her, and the slap of his body against her ass were the only sounds. He didn’t use her name or call her “baby.” He didn’t tell her how hot or tight she was, how good she felt.

It didn’t matter. This rough, silent taking was more erotic than anything she’d ever experienced. He spoke only once, when she felt so overcome, so exposed that she dropped her head down.

“No,” he said, and pinched her nipple hard.

She knew what he wanted. She lifted her head, allowing him to see the ravagement on her face. Falling back against his shoulder, she let him watch.

He knew what he was doing to her, she was sure. He knew he didn’t have to tend her. If he kept his grip on her nipple, if he pinched and tortured it, it was for his own pleasure. His carnal aggression and his determination to use her body for his own purpose, were enough to drive her wild. More than enough.

She started to shake, every muscle quivering with shattering tension. Her breath keened out.

Like it didn’t even matter to him, he kept fucking into her. He was on a mission, which was his own gratification, the satisfaction of his own sexual greed. And a part of that was to exert domination over her. To make clear his power, his ownership. To let her know he used her as a vessel for his pleasure.

She allowed it. Submitted to it. She wanted to be his, wanted him to own her body. She gave over to the wicked edge of indecency.

He worked her harder and harder, lifting her up to her toes with the force of his thrusts. She was suspended, his fingers in her ass and his cock up her pussy sometimes her only support. As she started to come he slammed into her, his ecstatic groans signaling the approach of his own completion. Hard and fast, he fucked into her.

Mindlessly, she went over. Convulsions rocked her, every muscle helplessly spasming. Her consciousness splintered in impossible ecstasy.

Weak with exhaustion, with repletion, she let herself collapse. Passively, she accepted the last of his thrusts.

* * * *

Clay couldn’t bring himself to stop. He knew she’d had enough.

She’d taken more than a man should ask of a woman. And he hadn’t fucking asked.

He hadn’t intended to involve himself at all. It was a harebrained scheme, thinking that fucking three men—well, letting them fuck her, which had really been her intent—would improve her situation with her asshole husband in any way. Like her being pregnant with another man’s child would be better.

He should have stopped his buddies before it got that far. Did they really want to father a baby on this crazy bitch? Even if she was Cap’s sister?
Especially
if?

They hadn’t been thinking with their big heads. But Quinn was clearly soft on her, and Jace was all hot thinking about a three- or four-way, and he’d let it go. He’d stood back and watched it happen. And then watching hadn’t been enough.

For a woman who seemed the next thing to innocent, she was a wildly responsive fuck. Quinn had done this sort of sweet thing to her, but even so they’d ended up howling out spectacular climaxes. And Jace had pounded another orgasm into her, one that seemed to come as much a surprise to her as to any of them.

She had those gorgeous tits, and he could tell by his buddies’ reactions that her cunt was tight and hot. Before he knew what he was doing, before Jace had even finished in her, Clay had torn his shirt off and fetched his cock—as big and hard as he’d ever known it—out of his fatigues.

And if either Jace or Gemini wanted a sweet little cuddle after Jace had poured himself into her, neither was getting it.

Jace had barely stopped humping her—or maybe not even that—when Clay started pushing him aside.

Then, given the barest sort of consent, he’d turned her and shoved his cock into that hot heaven.

He was dead certain she’d never taken anything up her ass. But he wanted it—wanted her there, wanted her submission—and so he’d taken it without a by-your-leave. He’d known it was a virgin ass, and by the merest thread he’d limited himself to fingering her. God knew, he’d burned to use his cock and give her a true ass-fucking.

Without the least attention to her pleasure, he’d wallowed in the feral, self-indulgent fuck-blast she’d inspired in him. He’d fucked her and fingered her ass—both, hard and deep.

And she’d been with him, hesitating only for a moment when he’d poked her ass. It had been purely his own hot passion that had driven hers.

Now she was collapsed, still shaking and spasming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Even so, he couldn’t stop. His climax called to him, like a fist reaching down to his balls, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop pounding her.

He fought it, wanting nothing more than to prolong this fucking bliss.

And suddenly, even that wasn’t enough. He wanted her with him once more.

She’d collapsed forward, falling onto the bar. He let go of the hold he’d taken on her nipple. Instead, he circled his hand in front of her and grabbed her clit. Tugging there, still pushing his fingers into her ass, he thrashed into her.

Maybe she protested. If she did, he didn’t hear it. Either way, in another minute, he had what he wanted. She flexed like a bitch in heat, letting him have everything he wanted—her ass, her cunt, her clit. She wailed, taking all that he gave her, and lit up like the fucking siren she was. He gave a triumphant howl and let go, uncontrollably blasting into her.

They went over together this time, an explosive orgasm like nothing he’d ever known. She was screaming, in panic as much as pleasure. He was cursing foully, and even so he was aware of murmured curses coming from his friends, as well.

Their words were tinged with censure—he’d made hard use of her. He might have crossed the line a bit. But there was awe, too. They recognized a mutually mind-blowing fuck when they saw one.

He pulled out of her abruptly, much more rudely than she deserved. But he remembered what a bad idea this was the second he had his head about him again. He turned away, stuffing himself into his pants and ducking back into his shirt.

Quinn took over with the crazy-ass bitch. He sat at one of the tables with the girl in his lap, tucking her back into her clothes. She didn’t look up at Clay, but Quinn did, and Jace, too.

He turned his back on them all and walked out of the bar.

Gemini felt stunned, sitting docilely as Quinn held her, helping her slip back into her clothing. Both he and Jace were silent as the door closed behind Clay.

She didn’t recognize herself. What had happened was like nothing she’d ever experienced. And nothing like what she’d planned.

When he had her more or less put together—it should be so easy—Quinn touched her chin. “Are you okay, Gem?”

Not really
, she thought. She wasn’t sure she ever would be. Nothing in her life, nothing that she knew about herself, had prepared her for what had just happened.

“Gemini?”

He’d waited her out while she tried to find her way back to herself. When he said her name again, she lifted her gaze to his.

“I’m okay.”

His dark Irish eyes evaluated her. “I don’t think so.”

She sighed and lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t know that could happen.”

Quinn’s eyes left hers for a moment, straying over to where Jace had propped himself on a bar stool. “We were pretty rough on you.”

“I didn’t object, did I?”

“No. You didn’t. Did it occur to you that maybe you should?”

She shook her head. And she understood his question. After three years with Bryce, was it beyond her to consider that she had the right to deny a man the use of her body for his pleasure? Was she that powerless a woman?

But no, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t stunned that she’d let three men have her—sweetly, roughly, however they wanted.

She was stunned by how much
she
wanted it. How she’d reveled in it, how her body had thrilled to it.

She’d felt powerful, not powerless.

She looked up, sure she owed Quinn the truth. Jace, too. And even Clay, though he hadn’t stayed to hear it.

“It wasn’t what I expected, what I’d planned,” she told them. “But it wasn’t against my will. I loved it. I didn’t know that was in me.” She met both sets of eyes, bright green then those pretty blues. “I’m glad it happened. I’m glad to know.”

That seemed to reassure them both. Quinn slid the hair back that had fallen from her braid. “I have a place upstairs here, above the bar. There’s a spare room. Let’s put you there for now.”

“I have an extra bedroom, too,” Jace said. He walked over and took another chair at the table.

Feeling a bit more herself, Gemini scooted to her own chair, secure between the two men.

“Mine’s bigger,” Jace went on. “And significantly more upscale.”

She saw Quinn roll his eyes, but it was in friendly humor—both the little jab and the response.

“Here, I think,” Gemini said. “If that’s okay with you, Quinn. If you really can use me at the bar.”

“It’s okay. It’s good. And I really can use you.”

Gemini smiled, nearly certain he told the truth.

Jace took over then. “Do you have your cell phone on you?”

She shook her head. “No. I left it.”

“Good. We can help you get a new one, but you don’t want to call anyone you can’t trust one hundred percent, so maybe you can just borrow for a while. First thing tomorrow, go to the post office and establish your address here. Quinn, if you can put any utility in her name, even cable, that would be good. Then take her to the DMV. Get your driver’s license changed, Gem, with your residence as here. We can’t make a divorce happen until you’ve been a resident for three months.”

There was a pause as Gemini faced the significance of the decision she’d made when she’d left Bryce.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Gemini?”

Quinn spoke gently into the prolonged silence, and she felt bad she’d let it go on. It was what she wanted, what she had to do. But the thought of it filled her with a sense of failure. It shook her foundation, her sense of self, that she’d made such bad choices. “Yes,” she said, clearly. “That’s what I want.”

Jace left a few minutes later, draping his tie around his neck and hooking his jacket over his shoulder. She watched him go. He kissed her good-bye before he left.

* * * *

Quinn watched her eyes follow Jace to the door. He really wished Jace hadn’t kissed her good night, and that she hadn’t kept her eyes on him as he’d left.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened in his bar. He knew for sure that Gemini wasn’t Bambi. The three friends hadn’t just passed around a woman for a shared, mindless fuck.

There’d been nothing mindless about it all when Quinn had taken her. It had been wild,
yeah
, hot and heady. But also sweet, taking. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he’d hated to let her go to Jace. In his mind, he’d been begging her to say no to it, to call a halt to that crazy invitation for all three of them to make love to her.

It had been that to him. Lovemaking. Not just a fuck.

But she’d given herself to Jace, had given her permission and her body. And he couldn’t say that what happened between her and Jace was any different than what had happened with him. It had been a hot, wild fuck,
yeah
, but not just that, either. There’d been something more between them, too.

He didn’t even know what had happened when Clay stepped in. All he knew for sure that was that the way Clay lit into her was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Clay had her wildly excited, nearly squealing with it and, in the end, out and out screaming. He couldn’t see it happen, but he was pretty sure the man had worked her in the ass—it was only during that particular kind of stimulation that he’d heard those sounds out of a woman.