This Is a Dark Ride (16 page)

“What do you want, Samson?” Brody whispered into his mouth.

“Whatever you want,” Sam said. “You know I’ll do anything for you. I want whatever you want me to do.”

“I want you to suck my cock.”

The harsh words were music to Sam’s ears as he knelt before Brody.

“Say it. Tell me, Sam. Say it loud,” Brody said. “Things won’t be any different just because Angel is here. You hear me?” He grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair.

Sam trembled. Angel might hear him. Angel might come out here. Sam’s heart pounded faster and faster, and he was unsure if he was afraid that she would or she wouldn’t.

She might watch. Angel might see him kneeling before Brody like his servant. A shiver went through him at the thought.

“I want to suck your cock, Brody,” Sam said so loudly he was certain Mrs. Mueller down the hall had to have heard. He didn’t care. The thought of Angel catching him like this made him more excited each time it went through his head.

Brody’s gaze softened, but not his grip in Sam’s hair.

“Do you?” He pushed Sam’s face toward his crotch. “Is this what you want?”

Brody’s cock was against Sam’s cheek, swollen and alive, and he kissed it through the fabric of Brody’s pants. “Please.”

Don’t change your mind, Brody. Don’t get sick and run to the bathroom. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.

Brody unzipped his jeans. He had such a beautiful cock. Thick and long. Salty, musky. The closest thing to perfection Sam had ever encountered. Sam’s own neglected cock oozed until a wet spot formed on his pants. He traced Brody’s wiry curls, then down around to the base. Sam could feel the blood pulsing in it.

A sweet sigh escaped Brody as Sam took that gorgeous cock into his mouth. It had taken a lot of practice, but he’d learned to accept every precious inch, lodging the head deep in his throat. Sam took short, quick breaths through his nose, concentrating on keeping his lips closed tight. Brody’s cock was like hot velvet in his mouth.

Brody did not like to be sucked, even if that’s what he called it. He fucked Sam’s mouth. There was nothing gentle about the way he did it either, and Sam didn’t mind that at all. Sam craved it—needed it. He’d missed Brody’s smell and the way Brody felt and tasted in his mouth. He needed it like Brody needed cheap wine. Sam cupped Brody’s balls. They were heavy and full—for him.

“Oh fuck.” Brody’s hips pumped faster. “Your mouth—perfect. Oh, feels so fucking good.”

Over Brody’s panting and grunts, Sam heard the bedroom door open. Angel was there.
Angel watched
. He couldn’t see her from where he was, but he could feel her.

Brody bumped hard into the back of Sam’s throat. He used to be good at this, but he was out of practice and he gagged and sputtered. For the next few minutes Sam fought every stroke, trying to hold Brody’s cock at bay with his tongue. Brody slammed forward, and Brody pulled his head back, eyes watering.

“No gagging, Sam. You’re going to swallow every drop of cum. And if you don’t do what I tell you, I’m going to smack your ass until you can’t sit for the rest of the day.”

The old Brody was back.
His
Brody. The Brody who wanted him. The Brody who owned him.

Sam’s jaw ached, but he let Brody guide him by tugging and jerking on Sam’s hair. He swirled his tongue. Flicked it. He opened his mouth wider, hungry for what Brody would give him. His sole focus was Brody’s pleasure. Sam sucked, hard, wanting to make it good.

“Oh your mouth is so fucking hot,” Brody said. His cock jerked and throbbed as Brody began to come. The hot liquid seared Sam’s throat as he gulped. Sam sucked until Brody pushed him away, and he remained kneeling, looking up at Brody.

Brody had come again. Twice in one day. Monumental. Just like old times. Sam let a small trickle escape the corner of his mouth, wanting…
needing
Brody to punish him.

Brody took a step back, staring down at him, smiling wickedly. “Get up.”

Sam rose, not taking his eyes from Brody.

“Take off your clothes.”

Sam complied, removing his T-shirt and stripping away the old gray sweatpants he’d worn to sleep in. Standing before Brody in only his underwear, he suddenly felt awkward. It wasn’t Brody, but knowing Angel was there made it more difficult and somehow much, much more arousing.

“Everything off!” Brody’s demanding voice made Sam’s stomach twist. Sam looked toward the bedroom doorway, meeting Angel’s wide eyes.

She turned away quickly, as if to go back into the bedroom.

“Come out here, Angel,” Brody said. Sam wondered how Brody knew she was there. He must have heard her, or he just felt her presence.

“I want you here.
Sam
wants you here.”

Why did Brody tell her that? Brody knew. She knew. Everyone knew but him. Why was he the only one who wasn’t sure?

Angel turned and looked at him again.

“Get those clothes off, Sam. I want to look at you. Show Angel how beautiful you are.”

Sam obeyed and slid his underwear down, his gaze locked on to Angel’s. She looked as vulnerable as he felt. His cock sprang out, jutting in front of him, hard and oozing. His underwear slipped to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. Standing there naked before both her and Brody, Sam’s face warmed and he fought the urge to cover himself.

“Chair,” Brody said.

Sam trembled, but there was no fear in his shaking. Excitement and adrenaline raced through him. He moved a chair away from the table and paused to look at it. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Slowly he bent over it and rested his forearms on the seat while gripping the front with his hands. He squirmed, trying to get comfortable, and then spread his feet to the outsides of the legs. The back of the chair hit midbelly, a perfect height, raising his ass and displaying it for Brody…and Angel.

He expected Brody to spank him. They had both enjoyed this game many times, except that no one had ever seen. No one had ever watched before.

“Ask for it,” Brody said. “Ask for your punishment.”

“Please, Brody. Please will you punish me?” There was a tremble in his voice that had nothing to do with fear. Sam’s stomach fluttered.

Brody moved behind him, and all the muscles in Sam’s back tensed. Sam tried not to tighten his ass as Brody delivered the first slap. He administered several more in quick succession, and Sam’s ass began to glow with the familiar, sweet heat he remembered so well. The sting. Sam had given up long ago trying to decide why he loved this. It only mattered that he did.

Brody did not let up, and the glow morphed into genuine pain, but Sam bit his lower lip and remained still. He could hurt for Brody. He wanted to hurt for Brody. He yearned for the pain Brody inflicted with such passion.

Brody struck him harder. Sam lifted his head and arched his back, groaning, as pleasure and pain mingled into a red-hot blaze. A small whine escaped him. He was out of practice at this game.

At the count of fifteen, Brody stopped and laid his hand on Sam’s back. Brody’s hand was hotter than a branding iron. Sam whimpered but didn’t move.

“Come here, Angel,” Brody said.

Soft footfalls on the carpet. Angel was behind him. He wanted to turn his head and try and look behind him, but he did not.

“Feel him,” Brody said. His tone of voice with Angel was gentle. Sam liked that; he didn’t see how anyone could talk to her in any other way. She needed gentleness.

Angel’s cold hand rested on his stinging buttock, and Sam bit back a moan. He held his breath then, anticipating her giving him a smack. She did not.

She caressed the burning skin with tender, loving strokes, her gentle hand soothing the burn of Brody’s punishment. Sam sighed and drank in the pleasure.

“So sweet, isn’t it, Sam? Being touched like that?”

Not sure that he could form coherent words, Sam grunted in affirmation.

“They’re like drugs,” Brody said in a faraway voice. “Women. They take you to a place that’s soft and warm, a place you don’t want to come back from.”

The brush of Brody’s hand across Sam’s lower back made him jump.

“Nothing wrong with wanting it. Why shouldn’t you?” Brody continued. “I’ve seen how you look at her, wondering what it would feel like to have her under you. To suck her nipples, to lick her pretty little clit, to bury your cock in her pussy.”

Sam shuddered against the chair. He ached. He ached for all those things, and yet he ached for Brody as well. It couldn’t be that way. He wasn’t that way. He loved Brody, loved him so much that sometimes he was sure his heart would burst from the sheer force of it.

Brody found Sam’s cock and began to stroke. Each glide of Brody’s hand was heaven. Skin on skin, those long fingers that had once flawlessly played piano encircled Sam’s cock with just as much skill. Sam shuddered and forgot everything he had just been thinking about.

“Let go, Samson,” Brody said. “Just let go. It’s time to live.” Brody went to the bedroom door and held his hand out. All Sam had to do was go.

His temples throbbed, a pulsing beat, until the only thing he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears as he moved toward that doorway. He followed Brody into the bedroom, feeling like he was watching himself in a dream.

It was a good dream. Angel was there. She was in his dreams all the time since he’d first seen her.

He’d wanted those dreams to stop. To go away. Now, suddenly, he was grateful they hadn’t.

He wanted her
. It was okay with Brody. There was no turning back. His old Brody was back, just the way he wanted. Maybe it was because of Angel.

Whatever happened, he would worry about later.

“
Just let go. It’s time to live
.”

Chapter Eight

Sex didn’t scare her, at least not anymore. She was desensitized now. Unaffected. It was just an act, something that she did, waiting for it to be over. Why was it so frightening to
want
this?

Standing in the doorway of Brody and Sam’s bedroom, she wasn’t scared. She was terrified. She was intruding, witnessing things between them that she was certain no one ever had.

Brody’s dominance. Sam’s submission. The way Sam worshipped Brody. They were perfect together. Beautiful, each flawlessly made for the other. Why was she here? Her legs shook. There was no place for her here. Brody put his arms around Sam, and their mouths met. Everything else stopped, and she saw only their need—their love for each other. They were fused, the two becoming one.

Angel’s breath caught in her throat. As much as she had enjoyed kissing both Brody and Sam, watching Brody kissing Sam was scorching. The slide of Brody’s tongue across Sam’s lower lip gave her a shiver.

Their masculine beauty was mesmerizing. Two men who truly loved one another; between the two of them it was much more than just sex. The way they looked at one another, the way they touched, the love they shared was evident.

Shyness and hesitation bubbled up in her. Two things she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since she had left home. There was no room for those emotions in the world she lived in. At least not until Brody and Sam came into her life.

The person she hadn’t been in a long time now stood there in that doorway. The outsider. The ugly girl with no friends. The one the popular kids made fun of.

She wanted to turn and run. This was not where she belonged. Run. Like she’d done before—just run away. Except what exactly was she running from this time? Not her stepfather, not anymore. If she ran now, she was just running away from herself…from what she wanted…needed. In strange dreams and fantasies she’d already done this with them, but reality was different.

“Come here,” Brody said to her with such gentleness in his voice.

Numbly she went to him. She stared, uncertain what to say, uncertain what was going to happen next. She stood there trembling, but she didn’t run away, because she
did
trust him. She was safe here—no one was going to hurt her.

There would be no hurtful words here, no insults. No one making her believe she was a nothing.

“Are you all right with this, Angel?” Brody asked.

All right with what?
She wasn’t sure. She could feel her lower lip quivering. “What’s…what’s going to happen?”

“Whatever you want to happen.” Brody kissed her tenderly. Quick and fleeting, it was nothing like the masterful kiss he’d just given Sam. He pulled his head back, leaving her wishing for more. The desire for more helped to quell the rising panic in her belly.

Staring over at Sam, she realized she was ready for whatever was going to happen. He had shown her a part of him she was certain no one but Brody had ever seen, and there must have been a reason for that. Brody undressed her slowly, as if he was opening a special Christmas gift. Sam watched, seated on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes burning into her skin. He was naked, his huge cock jutting upward. Her gaze lingered on it for a few seconds. She’d heard women make remarks about men with big cocks, say things that made it sound like a good thing, but as she stared she realized her only thoughts were that it was going to hurt to have him inside of her.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she, Sam?” Brody said in a smooth voice.

“She’s beautiful.” Sam melted her with those words, just as he had done before.

Brody pushed her hair back from her face. “You’re just what we need, Angel. You have no idea how much you have changed things here, or how much we care about you.”

His tone was soothing, but the word
we
resonated through her. Not just sex with Sam, but sex with Brody. How would that work?
At the same time?
She didn’t like sex with one. Two would be a bit much now, wouldn’t it?

Mental calculations started in her head. How long would it take to finish them both and be done with this? Brody had saved her, and Sam had left her breathless with a kiss. Was it really going to be so bad? She was a whore. She’d had sex with men for money. She couldn’t do it for free with Sam and Brody?

You’re a nothing. A big, fat nothing. Shut up and spread your legs, be grateful anyone even wants you.

“Lie down,” Brody said.

She tilted her head, looking into his face. Brody didn’t look at her like she was a nothing. In fact, since the first time her eyes had actually focused on his face that horrible night, he had looked at her with a tender concern. Sam didn’t look at her like she was a nothing either. They looked at her like she was special.
Special.