Party of Three: A H.O.T. Cops Novel (8 page)

And soon he stopped going slow—his strokes became more pistonlike, driving, driving, each filling her with nearly overwhelming pleasure that echoed from the crux of her thighs outward. Without planning it, she drove back, meeting his movements, soaking in the sensation, basking in the wonder of this naughty ecstasy she’d never imagined experiencing.

And then, as Ethan continued fucking her—hard, hard—Rogan began to thrust against her from behind. He and his colossal hard-on had been admirably still through
all
this, but clearly he could resist no longer, and Mira’s ecstasy from a moment earlier increased. She wanted him to fuck her, too. She wanted them
both
, fully, equally.

Ethan’s passionate plunges increased, his eyes falling shut, and soon Mira let hers close, as well, leaning her head back, taking it all in. She’d never felt so desired, so sexual, in her life, and in a moment of total hedonistic abandon felt
elated
that she’d told Ethan her fantasy that night last summer. God, to think life could have passed by without her having experienced this. It was … astounding to be wanted—and pleasured—by the two men she’d loved most, both at the same time.

“God, God, I’m gonna come,” Ethan muttered—and then he was thrusting hard, plunging deep, letting out one low groan as he emptied into her, and she found herself moaning along with him as she witnessed the release on his face, absorbing the passion he was pouring into her.

Her breath came heavy, overriding the music that now seemed lower in volume than before—she knew it wasn’t really, but the sex taking place seemed to almost blot it out, push it far into the background of what was happening. Ethan slumped slightly into her, bringing his forehead to rest against hers for a moment that, again, made her feel so very close to him now.

“I love you,” she whispered while he was right there, his face touching hers.

He opened his eyes, drew back just far enough to look at her, and even spent, she could see that same affection still lingering in his gaze. “Love you, too, my perfect girl,” he told her.

But then he eased back even farther, going upright on his knees again, and his expression shifted back into one filled more with lust than love. And she didn’t mind at all since she knew the two could coincide very happily together. “Ready for more?” Ethan asked.

Was she?

Lord. In one sense, she was mentally and physically exhausted. She felt she’d already shared so much with them both, been so open in ways. And yet … Rogan’s erection still jutted demandingly against her ass. And just thinking about that made her pussy swell with a brand-new arousal she couldn’t deny.

So she nodded. That was all—no words. Maybe she’d begun feeling a little shy again. It had been one thing for Ethan to fuck her while Rogan held her, watched. But for Rogan to be inside her while Ethan observed … well, somehow that seemed as if it would raise the stakes. For them all.

But maybe you’re overthinking this, overworrying it. Just be … the way
they
are. Like this is simple. Like it’s easy. Like sex is just sex.
She still couldn’t believe that was ever true, for anyone—you opened yourself up in unique ways during sex; it mattered. But for now, since she was with two men she cared about who wanted this for her and were acting as if a threesome was a perfectly normal thing to be taking place on a summer Friday night, she would try. Not to think too much. Not to worry. And mostly, she’d been doing pretty good at it.
So just keep going.

Ethan replied only by shoving aside the couch cushion and getting to his feet, his cock still shiny and slick from sex, his nakedness somehow feeling more obvious to her now than … well, perhaps ever in their entire relationship.
Because there isn’t usually a third person in the room to see it.

But stop thinking and get back to feeling.

That’s when Rogan’s voice came in her ear. “Stand up.” And even just that one small command made her pussy shiver.

It was almost challenging to unloop her legs from over his knees—she’d gotten stiff from being in the same position for so long—but finally she pushed to her feet, very aware of her own nakedness, too. Finally standing, she stripped her tank top over her head and tossed it aside, simply because it made no sense to have it on anymore. And she was reaching behind her to undo her bra—when Rogan stood, as well, quickly, stepping in close, cupping her boobs in his hands from behind again, somehow firm yet tender. He brushed his thumbs across the ever-sensitive nipples, once, twice, each touch making her sigh with the small but potent rush of pleasure, and she instinctively looked over her shoulder at him.

Their gazes met, held. And he turned her in his arms to face him. Then let his eyes drop to her breasts for a few potent seconds before he bent to rake his tongue across one stiffened pink peak.

She trembled in response—oh Lord, it had been over four years. And suddenly he was touching her again, kissing her again. About to be fucking her again. She drew in her breath, just letting the realization wash over her anew.

And then it was he who reached behind her to smoothly unhook her bra, drawing it down her arms and casting it onto the table where playing cards and drink glasses still resided. After which he simply said, “Go to the bed.”

Where was Ethan now? She didn’t know. And almost didn’t even care.

But she was supposed to be sharing this with him—all of it, right? So she
had
to care. And he’d just brought her so much pleasure and made her feel so cherished, worshipped, and he was such a good, kind, hot, and sexy man. Practically her fiancé, even. Other than the neglect she’d suffered due to his law practice, they were perfect together. And he’d made all this happen.

And yet Rogan was so … commanding. Back when they’d been a couple, she’d hated that at first—but had secretly learned to love it in the bedroom. He always knew what he wanted and didn’t hesitate to take it. There was something she admired about that boldness, something in it that even made her want to submit to him. And now, without thought, she simply obeyed him and went to the bed.

She sat down on the edge of the calico comforter sprinkled with a summer garden’s worth of blooming flowers—yellow, red, purple, orange—and waited as Rogan followed. A second later, he stood directly before her on the hardwood floor, which put the bulge in his jeans around eye level. That bulge she’d been feeling all night. That bulge she’d once known so well.

“Unzip me,” he said.

Again she suffered the urge to look around, to locate Ethan—yet Rogan’s very tone commanded all her attention and left her almost afraid to look away. He’d been unerringly patient and now almost seemed
im
patient, ready to have his way with her.

So she didn’t hesitate to reach up, unbutton his jeans, slide the zipper down over that tremendous bulge. As the denim parted, she could clearly make out the cylindrical shape of his cock behind the black boxer briefs he’d always worn. And mmm, just seeing it, even still covered, sent a bolt of need through her chest. And it made her unthinkingly reach out, run the flat of her palm up the thick ridge concealed beneath the fabric. He sucked in his breath and she liked it. He could act all tough, but even tough guys had their moments of weakness.

His passed quickly, though, and he met her eyes again to say, “Tell me what you want, babe.”

Don’t think too much. Don’t worry about anything. Just keep it simple. Tell him what you really, really desire right now. Listen to the overpowering longing vibrating through your body.

“Please just put it in me,” she said.

Chapter 5

A
t this, Rogan just peered down at her, then lifted her face in both his hands to say, “Aw, babe.”

And though she sort of hated to spoil the hot mood by bringing this up, she said softly, “Do you have, you know, a condom?”

“Of course,” he said. “But I haven’t been with anybody without one since you.”

“Really?” She swallowed back her surprise, remembering full well Rogan’s view on condoms. He was careful about using them—until he was with someone he felt serious about and, of course, fully trusted. Then he didn’t want anything between them, not even one thin layer of rubber.

“Really. And I don’t want to use one now, not with you.”

Lord, he was looking at her … the way he
used
to look at her, like she was amazing, like he’d never been so into any other woman in his life.
But that’s his charm, remember. He knew how to do that, how to make you feel so, so special. And then it turned out you weren’t quite as special as you’d thought or he wouldn’t have let you go so easily.

But none of that really had any bearing on this—she had to remember that. That was the past. And this was not about her and Rogan; this was about her fantasy of being with two men.

Still, she swallowed again and said, “Okay.” Because she knew he’d never lie about something like that. And she was on the pill—had been for years. And the truth was, if she was doing this, she liked the idea of having no barriers, either, of it being just his flesh and hers.

He let out a low, pleasured sigh at her response, as if it mattered to him that much, and the soft sound ran all through her. She simply hadn’t expected him to do anything here that would make her feel like this was … more than sex.

But then, maybe she was reading too much into it. Maybe it was just a matter of not really needing a condom. Maybe the way he was looking at her right now was about nothing more than lust. And the truth was, even the
lust
between them had always been good, fiery hot. Had Ethan realized that—considered it—when he’d invited Rogan to join them?

Just then, the mattress shifted and she looked over to see Ethan lying down on the bed next to her. And even though she was glad to finally know where he was, somehow, now, it almost alarmed her a little to see him. Their eyes locked and his held nothing but the same heat as they had so far. Did he see everything she was feeling, all her questions about Rogan? Was he that confident—did he trust in their love that much? Or was he just so caught up in the naughty passion of this night that he didn’t observe anything happening between her and Rogan other than sexual response?

And even if so, it still shook her a bit that he was totally okay with that—she’d had so little time to adjust to that stark change in thinking.

“I want to watch,” he told her then. “I want to watch him fuck you.”

And she let out a breath. Why was the idea of that suddenly daunting? She’d been doing so well, after all, being so brave and open.

But maybe it was because up until now it had been Ethan fucking her, and Rogan had been only a secondary character in this drama. Having sex with Rogan—while Ethan simply lay there observing it all, no less, in effect making her feel all the more on display—seemed to up the ante. At least in her own mind.

But she had no time to examine the idea further before Rogan instructed, “Roll onto your side, babe.” And she looked up to find that during her moment with Ethan just now, Rogan had shed his jeans and underwear and stood before her as naked as she and Ethan were, and just as beautiful that way as she remembered.

Like Ethan, he clearly still worked out, sporting a washboard stomach and the firm muscles she saw on the softball field but that were more noticeable here. His barbed wire tattoo served as a warning that he could be dangerous if you got too close to him. His cock stood as long and hard and majestic as a spear between his legs.

The sight of him like this after so long stunned her in a way she hadn’t expected—in fact, it made her freeze in place. So when she didn’t do as he’d told her, he simply put a hand on her hip and turned her that way—until she faced Ethan.

Again their eyes met and as Rogan joined them on the bed, which they lay across sideways, she instinctively reached out to lift her fingertips to Ethan’s chest. She didn’t know why and didn’t even wonder—she simply touched him.
I’m still yours. No matter what.
Maybe
that
was why. Maybe it was her small, silent way of reminding him of that. Or of reminding herself.

She thought Rogan would simply ram his cock into her now, but somehow the tempo had slowed and instead he returned his hand to her bare hip and ran it gently up her side, over the curve of her waist, and then onto her breast. He nestled his erection against her ass again, letting them both feel it there, letting her again want more of it. She looked at Ethan the whole time, taking in the utterly surreal quality of the moment, and she kept her hand on his chest—as Rogan touched
her
,
she
touched Ethan.

Now Rogan kissed the back of her shoulder, her neck. He could go from demanding to tender in a heartbeat, always. And she still kept her gaze locked on Ethan’s the whole time. Somehow that connection made it feel … less like being with another man and more like … just being with
him
but in a different way. A
very
different way.

And then Rogan’s fingers were slipping down behind her, coming in between her legs, stroking her there, and she parted her thighs instinctively, aware that the move drew Ethan’s gaze there and that it added to her arousal.

And then—oh Lord—she desperately wanted Rogan to fuck her, same as she’d wanted a few minutes ago before Ethan lay down beside her. But she couldn’t ask, wouldn’t ask—she was already turning herself inside out for these two men, and in this situation she found it challenging to be aggressive. It all came easier if
they
were the aggressive ones, if they did it all
to
her. Maybe she wanted to believe she was an innocent bystander in all this. Maybe that idea made it all more palatable somehow.

But that didn’t stop her from biting her lip as Rogan raked his fingers through her wetness from front to back. It didn’t stop her light gasp as he slid them into her opening. It didn’t stop Ethan from eliciting a small, guttural moan at her response. He even tenderly stroked her arm, the one she held out to touch him, and then bent to kiss her hand, now curled into a loose fist against his chest.