Roxy Harte (40 page)

“You won’t be alone, baby. I’ll be here,” Garrett promises, holding me closer.

“Thomas,” I beg. “You too, please stay with us.”

The men exchange a look. I’m not so far gone that I don’t see the look exchanged, but Thomas leads the way, walking back toward the penthouse, an improvement, not going into the elevator. Not leaving.

Thomas turns on lights, leading us through the penthouse to Garrett’s bedroom. I finally relax into Garrett, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing his neck, promising him, “I love you, just don’t let Thomas leave.”

“I’ll make him stay.”

* * * *

“Feeling better?” Garrett asks, pulling me closer, startling me, making me very aware that he sleeps in the nude. I take a deep breath and look into his pale eyes. Blue. Mesmerizing. I suddenly remember just how much I enjoy waking up in Garrett’s bed.

“I’m sorry. Last night I was just…”

“Having a nervous breakdown?” he teases, then lifts my chin to assure me that he really is teasing. “I had at least one major episode a week after Tony died. You’re entitled.”

“You didn’t take it personally?”

“Of course I did, but I’m in this for the duration. No matter where this takes us. I’m committed to make us work in all its many dimensions…even the schizophrenic ones.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

“You could start with I love you, you did mention that last night.”

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My heartbeat explodes in my ears, my pulse triple time. I search his eyes, looking for some sign that he is angry about last night, but find none. “I do love you, very, very much.”

Rubbing my hand down his stomach, I smooth lower, finding him hard, ready. “And I want you very, very much.”

Rolling on top of him, I position myself over Garrett, and only after I feel the sweet slide of his penis entering me do I remember the second naked man in Garrett’s bed and looking toward him, I realize he, too, is very awake.

“Morning, Sweetheart.” Thomas smirks, and his hand slides down his own firm length.

I start to pull off Garrett, but he holds my waist firm, forcing me into a rhythm. “Look at me.”

I look, getting caught in Garrett’s gaze. He smiles easily and I realize that I am the only one feeling awkward and self-conscious at every turn. “Make love to me, Kitten,” he commands.

“I don’t think I can.”

Garrett tilts his head, his look questioning but silent.

I nod toward Thomas. “He’s watching.”

“Yes, he is, and in a moment, he’ll be participating.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, me, the guy you begged to stay last night, because the original plan was for you to wake up alone in Garrett’s bed and you could have been alone and as sickeningly mushy as you wanted, but as it is, I am here, and instead of sweet kisses between two, I’m going to insist that we have wild, crazy, kick-ass threesome sex, and before it’s all said and done, someone is going to be screaming, because two out of three of us in this bed are sadists. So one guess who gets to scream.”

Garrett rocks me on his hard dick, I banter back with Thomas. “Are you always so threatening in the morning?”

“You think that was threatening?” Thomas leers.

“You sounded pretty serious about the whole screaming thing.”

Garrett rocks me back and forth, soft and easy. Thomas rolls onto his knees and before I can think about what his next move might be, he has slid behind me, straddling Garrett, molded thigh to shoulders with me, hand around my waist, fingers sliding lower to stroke my clit.

“No, no, no, it’s too much,” I cry out. “I don’t like to…” I pant, trying to tell Thomas that my clit is too sensitive for direct stimulation, but then Garrett’s rocking increases and Thomas’s stroke softens just enough that my mind slides into nothingness and I can’t think any more about what I was going to say.

“Mm, mm, mm,” I pant.

“Like that, sweetheart?” Thomas whispers.

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“Mm, hmmm, ah, ah, ah.”

Garrett forces the rhythm faster, harder.

“Oh God!”

“Like that, Kitten?” Garrett asks.

“Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Ah, ah, ah.”

* * * *

“Mm hmmm, very good.” I sigh, still plastered to his chest. “Am I crushing you? I could move.”

“Don’t you dare move,” he growls and I feel his penis flex inside me.

“Good. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.”

“Well, maybe you could move your hips a little bit. Just slide a little forward.”

I slide, then realize that Thomas is still behind me, holding my shoulders down, lifting Garrett’s legs, and I realize by Garrett’s grunt that Thomas has entered him, hard and fast. Sandwiched between them, I ride Garrett, while Thomas rides Garrett as well. For no other reason than nervousness, I start laughing hysterically.

“Something’s funny?”

The motion doesn’t stop and neither does my laughing. “I don’t feel like I’m steering this mess.”

“Oh, but sweetheart, you are, and right now, Garrett is getting the ride of his life. Isn’t that right, Gar?”

“Oh God, yes, yes, yes.”

Laughter under control, I feel Garrett spasm, a second later Thomas joins him and I am crushed between two growling, orgasming men, at least one of which and I couldn’t swear which, is conscious enough to be concerned about the girl in the middle because in a flash of heat and silkiness, a hand is definitely rubbing my clit and it doesn’t take much because I am twisting, climbing ascending. “Oh my God, ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” And in the fuzzy recesses of my brain, I think that we are all in for the rides of our lives.

The End

About the Author:

Roxy Harte lives in a small town in southwesternOhio ; however, that is just the beginning of the story…

I wanted a house in the historical district and I found a wonderful Craftsman style that was perfect…well, it became perfect, actually quite wonderful, after I made nice with the resident ghost. Her
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name is Lucy and she’s a young, mischievous girl who likes to play hide and seek. This is excellent, because Lucy has become known as the finder of lost things…keys, pens, earrings, cell phones.

I started writing incredibly hot BDSM erotica a decade ago, as a respite from caring for my invalid parents. After tucking them in, I would write the day’s stress away until the wee hours of the morning, sometimes until it was time to start my day over again.

Now, I write for myself, for my joy…and hopefully to bring a moment’s escape to my dear readers when they are in need of respite themselves.

Roxy lives with two of her three awesome daughters. Her oldest lives away from home and is busy raising Roxy’s two incredible granddaughters. Also part of the family are two big, boisterous dogs and two reclusive cats.

Roxy writes for Liquid Silver Books and is an active member of Romance Writers of America and the Passionate Ink erotic romance chapter.

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We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books

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About this Title

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