Sexual Healing for Three (24 page)

Russ shook his head, trying to erase the vision of her facedown and spread-eagle on the bed, her beautiful, round ass, flushed and
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warm from his spanking, pointing to the sky, totally inviting and open to his control and touch.

“It’s an order,” he said, keeping all lightness and teasing out of his voice, purposefully using his commanding Dom voice.

She looked at him but didn’t say anything, and in that silent moment, Russ wished like hell that he had Chance’s gifts and could read her.

What must that be like? How did his brother handle it without totally losing himself in other people’s thoughts, in other people’s lives? How did he not exploit it as often as he could?

“I can take care of myself,” Donna finally said.

“We’re going to have to talk about that in more depth the next time we’re together.”

“My feelings aren’t going to change on the subject.”

“Maybe they will once we discuss it.”

“You think you’re going to convince me to be a sniveling, weak female?”

“There’s nothing weak about needing someone to lean on.”

“Who said I want you to be that someone?”

Russ smiled, his cock hardening the more she challenged him.

Damn, he had missed this—the give and take, the negotiation process, the role-playing, the final submission of a bottom when she realized that she had met her match and Dominant and was meant to obey him no matter how much it went against her liberal upbringing.

Russ slowly loosened his hold and let her slide down the front of his body until her feet touched the parquet floor. His glance didn’t leave her face, and he liked that she didn’t take her gaze off of him as he slid his hand down the front of her snug shorts, even though her eyes widened and she gasped as he brushed the back of his fingers against her.

She was wet, sopping, and he leered as he turned her around, pulled her back against him, and bent his knees to cradle his erection against the giving solidity of her ass without removing his hand from 186

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her shorts. He slipped two fingers inside her to the second knuckle, rubbed her clitoris with his thumb, and closed his eyes when she whimpered.

“
That
says you want me to be that someone.”

“
That
is just a physiological reaction.” She panted.

“It’s just sex, huh?”

She nodded, evidently too busy groaning as he stroked her to articulate further.

“Believe that if you want to, Donna. We both know the truth.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he removed his hand, spun her back around to facing him, and claimed her mouth with a punishing kiss—all tongue and teeth and invasion—a lesson and a reprimand.

When he released her, they were both breathless, though he hid his state a lot better than she did, if he did say so himself.

He backed towards the front door, never taking his gaze off hers as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, blatantly licked his fingers, and caught sight of her saucer-wide eyes and unhinged jaw right before opening the door to leave.

Let the training begin.

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Whore. Slut. Bitch!

He watched Russ leave the building, looking undone and frazzled, and knew that he, and his brother, had fucked that heifer.

Where was the pretty boy now? Had Russ left him to bat cleanup, or had there been some kind of altercation to drive Russ away?

He gripped the steering wheel with such force he could see the veins popping out on the back of his hands. He wished that the steering wheel was that bitch’s neck.

Russ didn’t even look twice in his direction as he crossed the street to get into his own SUV. It went to show just how preoccupied he was by that woman and the situation, just how stressed.

He didn’t like it, knew he could do better for Russ, would treat him much better than that liberated woman with her loose morals.

If he was smart, he’d just go in there and pummel her and the pretty boy into bloody pulps, but that was too sloppy, too spontaneous. He didn’t want to deal with them when he was in this frame of mind. He wanted to be clearheaded, confront them after he’d planned exactly what he wanted to do to them, so that they’d know it wasn’t anything personal. It really wasn’t. They were in the way of him getting what he wanted, and they needed to be eliminated—

simple as that.

He watched Russ get into and start his vehicle, pulling the seatbelt across himself and buckling it with one hand as he pulled away from the curb. Heart lodged in his throat, he saw Russ drive away until his SUV became a mere speck on the horizon.

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He decided not to follow, though it took everything in him to stay put and see what his rivals were up to.

He knew he was taking a chance hanging around after the rock-throwing incident, but he was compelled, couldn’t pull away from what he had wrought.

Damn it! This was not how things were supposed to turn out tonight. He hadn’t intended to draw Russ closer to the woman, much less for them to fuck. And he certainly hadn’t planned for the brother to show up, a happenstance that still had him befuddled.

He’d only wanted to introduce discord in the heifer’s life, make it look like one of her clients’ husbands or boyfriends was out to get her, thereby driving away any prospective romantic interests. But he should have known the reverse would happen, that Russ would never turn away from a woman in need, would never leave someone of the weaker sex to fend for her herself. And this was why he loved Russ, why he wanted him for himself—the man’s unerring sense of loyalty and responsibility to those he cared about.

He wanted to be in that circle of people Russ cared about. He wanted to be the
only
one in that circle—the center of Russ’s universe.

* * * *

Donna stood in the middle of her living room stunned, fingers touching her lips that Russ had scorched, squeezing her vaginal muscles to stave off the tingling emptiness that beset her pussy after watching him lick her juices from his fingers with too much delight.

Bastard!

She wanted to kick something, and since his ass wasn’t readily available and everything within reach was relatively solid and immovable and would probably result in a broken toe or two, she balled her hands at her sides, growled through gritted teeth, and stomped her feet like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

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Chance walked into the room at the height of her pissed-ivity, and she stopped mid-stomp to give him a sheepish look as her face flushed with heat.

He merely looked at her with an arched brow, grinning as he retrieved his pants from the sofa and commenced to put them on.

Donna watched him zip and button up his pants thinking it was such a waste of time since she fully intended to get them off of him as soon as possible. And before she lost her nerve, she walked over to him as he was buckling his belt. She ran a palm up his smooth, bare chest, his skin so warm and inviting, the smoothness so different from the curly hairs that dotted Russ’s chest—different but not necessarily bad, not at all.

“Going somewhere?”

“I didn’t want to just walk around your place in my underwear.”

“So you plan to stay for a while.”

“As long as I’m welcome.”

Not like his brother who would probably force himself where he wasn’t welcome, just because he thought he was right to do it, and who cared what anyone else thought?

“You’re welcome.”

He nodded, glancing at her from beneath those gorgeous long lashes. “What happened with you and Russ?”

“I might ask you the same thing.” Now it was her turn to arch a brow. She waited, and when he didn’t say anything, she asked,

“Going over strategies for your next seduction scene?”

He chuckled, slipping has arms around her waist in such a comfortable way she couldn’t begrudge him the maneuver. “Did it seem like we were ganging up on you?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that.” Ganging up would imply some sort of violent grudge match, and she certainly hadn’t been the victim of any gang-banger Bloods or Crips.

No, she didn’t feel ganged up on at all. She had been catered to and sated in every way possible, fantasies she hadn’t even known she 190

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possessed had been fulfilled, and she was looking forward to more,
wanted
more—with both men.

She held in a sigh at the idea of their missing third. She didn’t want Chance to think he was a consolation prize. She didn’t think of sex with him that way at all, just wanted more, wanted the complete package she had earlier received and didn’t think she could settle for less ever again.

But even with all that she had done with Russ and Chance, as much as they had done
to
her, she still sensed a missing part, something more that they could have done to her, something more that her body and psyche wanted from them.

“Three’s a magic number,” Chance murmured, pulling her closer and angling his body so that his knee rubbed against her clit.

Donna moaned and glanced up at him in a daze.

“
School House Rock
on Saturday morning. ‘Three Is A Magic Number’ was one of my favorite songs from that show.”

“I keep forgetting you can do that,” she said.

“I’m sorry. It was just hanging out there, and I couldn’t help but grab on to it. I’m not usually so reckless with it.”

“That you can control it at all is a miracle.” She squeezed his trim middle, meaning it. “
You’re
a miracle.”

“We try.”

She giggled as she reached for his belt and unbuckled it. He was reaching for her shorts a second after she had already undone his pants and was pulling them down over his hips.

From here it was a race to see who could undress whom the fastest, and Donna was not disappointed when she won, stepping back to take her first good look at Chance naked.

His bronze skin glimmered beneath the light of the room, and she knew he would tan beautifully in the summer sun. She put her hands on his chest again, all the velvety soft skin stretched across the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders so tempting she couldn’t resist.

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He was built like an Indian warrior, hard and cut in all the right places, a long, lean body ready for battle in any arena—whether it was fighting for someone’s life in a hospital emergency room or coming to her rescue after the attack of an unknown assailant—he was there.

Donna’s hands moved down his body, over the sectioned ridges of his abs, down to the impressive erection already leaking pre-cum and protruding from a curly nest of hair at his groin.

She licked her lips, wanting to taste him the way he had tasted her, the musky scent of him making her mouth water.

Donna slowly slid to her knees, wrapped one hand around his hot shaft, and noticed that he was slightly slimmer around than Russ, but he more than made up for it in length, maybe about an inch longer and enough to satisfy her.

Then why are you thinking about Russ?

She took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating aroma that was uniquely Chance, and leaned forward to tongue his slit. She scooped out the pearl of liquid as she squeezed his shaft.

Chance groaned and closed his eyes, his hands instantly going to her head and burying in and fisting her hair. He didn’t move any further, stood frozen as if waiting for her next move, her next form of torture.

Donna didn’t disappoint, dipping her head toward his groin and swallowing him to the base, his downy hair tickling her lips as she sucked him. She reached for his balls, seizing them in a soft but firm grip, fondling them while she milked him with her mouth.

Chance panted, arching into her but stopping just short of pulling her head forward and holding her in place. She knew he wanted to.

She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she was doing to him, not when she felt his legs quivering beneath her, not when she had him hovering just beyond a climax.

Donna picked up her rhythm, moving her head up and down the pulsating length of him, alternately sucking and licking as she 192

Gracie C. McKeever

pumped his shaft with a fist. Her pièce de résistance—slowly easing her middle finger inside him searching for his prostate—sent Chance orbiting before she found and massaged the spongy gland, and he shot into her mouth with such force Donna thought she would drown.

“Donna…Goddess!”

The pressure of his fingers in her hair increased suddenly, just for a moment before his grip softened, and he caressed her hair, sliding his hands down to gently cup her face.

Donna looked up at him from her kneeling position and noticed the expression of adoration shining out of his brandy eyes. She wanted to live up to that look. She knew that if she told him what she needed from him, what she wanted him to do to her—what she knew Russ would and could do—he’d see her differently, think less of her.

And she couldn’t bear that.

* * * *

Chance lay in the bed spooning against Donna’s back as the morning sun spilled through the opened blinds and curtains to warm his bare back.

He sighed and squeezed her closer, cradling a rampant first light hard-on against the inviting cushion of her ass. Wanting her even closer, he flung one leg over her hip, imprisoning her against him and wishing he could stay this way—in the bed with her in his arms—

forever.

He didn’t want to look at the clock and know how close it was before he had to rush off in order to make it to the hospital in time. He needed to go home first, of course, and grab a shower and a change of clothes before he took his bike uptown to the Bronx.

“What time is it?” Donna mumbled into the pillow she was hugging.

“Don’t know.”

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She released her pillow and turned in his arms to hug him instead.