Origin (18 page)

Anders went still and Clay, sensing something was up, tiredly turned his head against Anders until he could see me.

I pulled off the T-shirt I’d worn underneath and dropped it on top of the shirt. Clay’s blue eyes flared wide but he didn’t move. It was like both men were afraid I’d stop if they budged. I kind of was afraid of that myself. As it was, the shaking had started in my legs. Fear gripped me in a tight fist.

But the desire to be a part of them was stronger.

My hands quaked so hard, it took me three tries to unfasten the foreign buttons in the front of my pants. Once I did, I pushed the material down fast and stood there, feeling foolish, but not bad enough to stop my forward momentum. I knew the scars on my thighs were ugly and that there were a few on my back to match, that my elbow looked odd with its badly healed break—but I honestly felt beautiful as they stared at me.

I slowly walked to the shower stall and squeezed behind Clay. “I can help so you can wash too.” My voice quaked as much as my body, but I wrapped my arms around Clay and pressed my front to his back.

Clay made a strangled noise in his throat.

Anders chuckled and stepped back. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure he can stand all on his own now.” His gaze ran down the front of Clay’s body. “In more ways than one.”

“He was already like that. From you.”

“Still awake here, you know,” Clay muttered. “But I don’t mind the help standing up.”

He could balance on his own—of that I had no doubt. It was obvious the pain injection was working now. But if he was willing to pretend to keep me there, I was willing to go along with it. Water poured down over the three of us, hot, but not as hot as his body. He felt solid and strong against me, but I tightened my arms to hold him tight. Close. He turned his head to look at me and I tried to smile, I did.

“You’re shaking so hard. Nobody is going to do anything you don’t want, okay?”

I nodded.

“Our captain is too tired anyway.” Anders stepped back. “But the view and the memory of it will keep me happy for days.” He filled his palms with soap and tilted his head back to wash his hair. He never took his gaze off us, even when suds ran into his eyes.

Clay had turned back to watch and I put my chin on his shoulder to do the same. I loved the feel of his body against the front of mine. It surprised me, this heat and desire and even comfort. I watched the soap suds slide down Anders’s neck over his broad shoulders and down his chest. The suds stuck in the soft mat of blond hair on his chest until the water pushed them down to drift over the ridges of his taut stomach and farther. I blinked at the impressive erection, which stood tall and proud. My hands actually tightened into fists because the urge to slide those suds around his cock was strong.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” whispered Clay.

“Yes,” I answered, my tone just as low as his.

Anders froze, arms still in the air. His breath picked up and something passed over his face, something that made my stomach clench hard before he abruptly turned. “Fuck. Can’t concentrate. Gotta get all the soap out of here.”

Clay turned and looked at me. I knew what he asked—if I was okay with him turning the heat up. His eyes sparkled as usual and I was glad Anders had insisted we visit the scanner first. I nodded and lowered my arms. He stepped close to Anders and slid his hands up the taller man’s back to grip his shoulders.

Anders turned, obviously struggling to keep his expression from showing how very much he needed to be touched. He failed. Clay must have pulled on all his strength reserves because within a moment, he had Anders against the shower wall. He stroked his hands up Anders’s chest, down his arms, then tangled their hands together. He lifted Anders’s hands above his head and pressed them against the wall. Just as he’d done that first night we were all in his room together.

A shiver ran through me as I watched Clay lift up enough to press his mouth to Anders’s. The bigger man growled, started to tug on his hands, but Clay held him tight to the wall. Muscles bunched in arms, in taut stomachs and thick thighs. Their mouths opened as each man fought for dominance in the kiss.

The heat that filled me then had nothing to do with the strangely never-ending hot water coming from every direction in this shower. I wanted to touch. No, I
had
to touch. I held both hands under the soap dispenser until my palms were filled with slippery, warm soap. Stepping closer to the men, I took my gaze off their kiss only long enough to locate both hard cocks. Clay hadn’t moved in enough for their lower bodies to touch and I took full advantage. I wrapped my hands around each, gasping at the slick, hot skin.

Theirs were the first cocks I’d touched voluntarily. Always before I’d closed my eyes, tightened my fingers and got through whatever I had to so it was over fast. I knew how to touch to make them come faster, knew what men liked. But I used none of that knowledge here. Instead, I touched slowly, firmly, fascinated by the differences in the men. While both had silky-smooth skin, Anders was thicker, Clay longer. I rubbed my thumbs over the slits in the top, noticing that both men had gone perfectly still. Anders hissed and I looked up to find blue and green eyes looking from one man’s cock to the other’s, then up at me.

“Don’t stop kissing,” I whispered. “I like it.” I squeezed and twisted my hands at the tops and Clay closed his eyes. “Touch each other more.”

Clay opened his eyes, looked up at Anders, and I felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten against the back of my fingers as he stretched up to meet Anders’s mouth. He let go of Anders’s hands. Anders immediately gripped Clay’s neck and slanted his mouth even harder on Clay’s, his lips opening Clay’s wide, his tongue sliding into his mouth.

Clay made a hoarse sound in his throat as he lowered back onto his heels. He widened his stance, his hands sliding over Anders’s chest, down to his stomach and around his waist.

Anders kissed him over and over.

“I love watching you touch each other. Love the sounds you make.”

The men moved closer together and I held both their cocks in one hand so I could hold out the other for more soap. Once I got them nice and slick, I picked up the tempo, loving the way Clay threw his head back and hissed, the way Anders thrust his hips faster and faster. Then Clay licked water from Anders’s collarbone, moving down to run his tongue over Anders’s abs. I watched those muscles quiver under Clay’s mouth, could imagine the feel of his hot tongue, the stroking caress of his lips as he pressed one kiss after another to hot skin.

I groaned.

Anders touched my arm and I froze. I looked up into his eyes and felt none of the terror. Not a drop. I smiled one of the real smiles he loved so much and his expression lit up.

“It’s gone?” he asked. “The fear?”

I nodded, shock probably making me look comical. “I’m not afraid at all. You can touch me. You can both touch me.”

The squeal that escaped my lips would have humiliated me at any other time, it was so girly and surprised, but I didn’t care because both Clay and Anders reached for me and tugged me between them. My front was to Clay, and Anders pulled my hair aside to open his mouth over my neck.

“Oh,” I breathed, just as Clay pressed his entire body to the front of mine and slowly moved against me. “Oh,” was all I could get out again as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes to better feel everything.

I lifted my arms to circle Anders’s neck behind me, and Clay must have taken that as an offering of my breasts because his mouth closed over my right nipple. He sucked it into his mouth.

I cried out and lowered one arm to his chest, leaving my other hand where it was so my fingers could feel the stubble on Anders’s jaw as he kissed any part of my skin he could reach. His hands drifted down my arms and around to my waist. He smoothed palms over my hips like he memorized the shape of me. His erection prodded me from behind and I ground against him, loving his rumbling groan against my back.

Clay made a frustrated noise and the water stopped.

I opened my eyes, blinked moisture away to find him shaking his head.

“Why did you have to wait until I was half dead to do this?” He grinned to show that his complaint was a tease.

I put my hands on his waist and moved him to the side, then stepped away from Anders, loving that the noise he made this time was nothing but a masculine grunt of protest. I didn’t even care that they’d see the scars on my back as I stepped from the shower and bent to see if the towels were in the wall drawer next to it.

Both men made noises then, and I kept facing away from them because I wasn’t sure how they’d take the very real feeling of feminine power that suddenly swamped me. Then I just shook my head, grabbed three towels and turned back to find that Anders had pulled Clay to his front and was stroking his hands all over Clay’s body as they both watched me.

Anders used his longer reach to snag the towel first and he started drying Clay with it. I smiled and dried myself, running the towel around my neck and down over my breasts. I spread my arms and dragged the soft material over my back, thrusting my breasts out in a wanton display that made Anders stop what he was doing to stare. Then he shook his head. “Claybourne, we are both in so much trouble.”

I loved that wicked drawl in his voice. Shivers crawled up my spine and I shared a smile with Clay. “I think the captain is dry. One more wet person.” I crooked my finger until Anders stepped out to stop in front of me. I then proceeded to torture him with the soft cloth. I ran it over his neck and shoulders, stroked it down his chest, stepped so close my body plastered to his as I ran it around his back and swished it back and forth.

“So, so much trouble, Claybourne,” he said on a growl.

Clay only laughed and stepped out of the shower. He swayed and Anders and I both reached for him.

“Bed sounds like a good idea,” he said.

He really was too tired for what I wanted and I tried to shove back my disappointment. Maybe Anders was right. I was going to be trouble because it felt like a ravenous monster had been let loose inside me and she wanted to touch and taste every part of their bodies.

Clay led the way. He picked up the first satchel someone had tossed on the bed and dropped it on the floor. I grabbed mine and started to look inside for the soft sleep pants and shirt I’d packed for the rent room on Burga One.

“Really?” Anders asked. He took the bag right out of my hands and threw it to the corner. “You think we’re letting you put on clothes now that we finally got you to part with them?”

Clay was nodding as he climbed onto the bed. “You’ll be lucky if we ever let you put clothes on again.”

I started to tense up with the word
let
, but again, the fear that had been a part of most of my life just dissipated. “Let me?” I said, running my hand down my hips.

Anders threw his head back, his laughter loud and long.

I grinned, couldn’t stop it because he had the most wonderful, joyous laugh—one that even made Clay smile at him.

He lowered his head to look at me. “Trouble,” was all he muttered before he snatched me right off my feet and dropped me next to Clay. He knelt on the bottom of the bed and stared, his gaze going back and forth as he took in both Clay and me. He opened his mouth, shut it and swallowed hard. After putting a hand on my ankle and Clay’s, he tightened his fingers and kept staring. He wanted to say something, but whatever it was choked him up.

Clay’s head moved on the pillow beside me and I turned my head until our gazes met. “Go get him,” he ordered.

I nodded, sat up and started to scoot down the bed, but Anders suddenly growled and crawled up until I laid back and he hovered over me. His huge body dwarfed mine. “I should be so scared,” I whispered.

“Are you?” he asked.

I shook my head and sent my hand out on a search for Clay’s. He threaded our fingers together, raised my hand and kissed it.

“Make love to the pretty girl, Sullivan.”

“Trying to order me around in bed, Captain?” Anders turned all that smoldering affection on to the man beside me.

“Always.” Clay shifted closer. “I want to watch.”

“You’ll do more than watch,” Anders said as he lowered himself onto me.

I hissed at the wonderful heat coming off all that skin. His shoulders were so broad. I ran my hands over them, then down to the hair on his chest. “I love this,” I said, tangling my fingers in it. He slowly rubbed his chest back and forth over my breasts and I arched up into him and instinctively spread my legs to cradle his lower body against me.

This time he hissed, then cursed, and I loved it. Loved the way he was reduced to four-letter words.

I love him.

Glancing at Clay—who couldn’t seem to figure out where he wanted to look—made me smile.

I loved both of them.

My heart swelled but I didn’t tell them because I knew they would fight me staying on this ship, that they wanted me to see my home, be a part of its rebuild. They felt I deserved a chance and would surely offer up some nonsense about me needing to be with other people to find what I truly wanted.

Clay’s remark about other Gwinarians on the planet had let me know this was their plan.

That swelling of love hit a wall of pain as I understood that the two of them would be staying together. I liked that they’d be together—it just hurt that it would be without me as well.