Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 10

  Tasha shivered in his embrace, and when she met his gaze, her eyes seemed afire with passion.

  “That smack did something to me. Do you think you have an inner Dom, too?”

  She said the damndest things. He grinned and said, “That sounds like something for us to find out about on Friday.”

  Gord pressed close to her back, so that the three of them made a sandwich, with the delectable Tasha the ripe and juicy filling.

  Gord took her hands and raised her arms. “Clasp your hands behind my neck, darlin’, and let Clay get his on you.”

  The position Gord held Tasha in opened her completely to Clay’s touch. He poured out a little shower gel and made a lovely lather between his hands.

  Never taking his gaze from hers, he smoothed the lather over her breasts. He felt her pretty rosy nipples peak, and couldn’t resist tweaking the hardened little buttons.

  Tasha licked her lips, moaned, and thrust her breasts further into his hands. He slid his right hand down her body, stroked back and forth over her silky smooth mound, and then used his fingers to part her pussy lips. Content to caress rather than delve, he acknowledged the boost to his ego when Tasha closed her eyes, thrust her hips, and whimpered.

  Eager to find out the totality of her need, he moved that hand just a bit further so he could stroke his index finger over her anus.

  “Oh!” The startled tone of that one word spoke volumes. She hadn’t expected the action on his part but more, she hadn’t expected the zing of added arousal the touch had given her.

  “Have you ever had a cock in your ass, baby?” Clay barely recognized he own voice. The growl sounded feral and dominant.

  “No.” Tasha’s response fired his lust. Said in a tone that spoke of longing, that one word stretched out over a full ten seconds and stoked his fires.

  “You’re going to have ours,” Clay said. He looked over Tasha’s head at his best friend. They’d discussed it, of course, all the things they would do with the lovely Tasha if they got the chance.

  Reality was proving very different from imagining. Gord looked damn near ecstatic at the possibility of having his cock buried deep in Tasha’s ass.

  Clay didn’t know what thrilled him more—imagining the scenario between himself and Tasha, or the prospect of watching Gord take her.

  Tasha had thrown her head back, eyes closed, clearly focusing on the pleasure Clay was serving her. He used the shower wand to rinse her, being particularly careful to make sure all the soap was washed away from her pussy.

  She sighed, and when he set the wand back on its hook, she lowered her head and opened her eyes. She flicked her gaze down his body.

  “Poor Clay. You seem to have something happening here. Let me give you a hand with that.”

  She lowered her arms from around Gord’s neck and wrapped her right hand around his hard shaft and began a slow, tight pumping.

  “You’re going to make me come,” he warned.

  “That’s my goal, sexy.”

  She gave him a “come fuck me” look that just added to his arousal. Tasha as a sex kitten was fast becoming one of his favorite looks on her. “Yeah? Well, if we’re going to do this here, then I’d rather come in your mouth, baby.”

  “Would you, now?”

  Gord chuckled at her sass. He reached around and tweaked her right nipple. “Bend over, darlin’. I want to feel your very fine ass nestled against me, and I really want to watch you suck Clay’s cock.”

  Tasha looked over her shoulder at Gord, and then met Clay’s gaze again. She moved her feet apart just a little, and then bent over the way she’d been told to. Gord reached forward and gathered her long ponytail in his left hand, and moved it out of the way for her.

  Clay watched as she fisted him again, and then used her other hand to cup his balls. She gave his shaft one long, luscious lick with her tongue, from balls to tip. And then she closed her hot mouth over his cockhead and sucked him down.

  “You just made Clay’s eyes cross, darlin’.” Gord sounded pleased as hell by the fact. His left arm was slung around her waist, and by the way Tasha moaned, Clay guessed Gord was playing with her ass, or her pussy—or probably both.

  Clay wished he had the brain power to say something clever in response to Gord’s quip, but at the moment he was having a real transcendental experience.

  He gazed down on Tasha’s head and laid one hand on the side of her face. He felt the strength of the pulls as she sucked his cock. Her hot, wet mouth and sly little tongue worked him as he’d never been worked before. Shivers raced through him as his horniness grew. It became a living, swirling force within him, one he wanted to hang onto and enjoy.

  But there’d be no stopping this first climax. He’d been too long without one after having been used to a good and active sex life for so many years. Clay groaned, as his attempt to control this force of nature totally failed him.

  “Oh, God, baby, it’s coming and I can’t stop…”

  Tasha’s response to his confession was to suck harder, squeezing his balls in time with her draws, and Clay knew he was lost. He threw his head back and shouted as his cum shot out of him and into Tasha’s mouth.

  She pulled each jetting stream from his body, the motion of her swallowing pushing his climax into a whole new realm. Clay could only groan as pulse after exploding pulse of pleasure held him in total thrall.

  His legs trembled with the effort to stay upright. He locked his knees and hoped to hell he wouldn’t embarrass himself by collapsing onto the shower floor in a boneless heap. Finally, Tasha gently released his cock. He watched as Gord helped her straighten up.

  Unable to stand unaided, he leaned one arm against the shower wall. Struggling for breath, Clay reconsidered the matter. It wouldn’t really be all that embarrassing to just dissolve into a puddle right here. Well, except for the whole being swept down the drain part. That might be hard to live down.

  He met Tasha’s gaze and nearly gasped at the beauty of her expression. She’d given to him, and that gift had meant something to her.

  He stood upright and reached for her. She came into his arms and he held her as tenderly as he knew how. “Thank you, baby. That was wonderful. You have a great mouth.”

  “You’re welcome. You have very tasty sperm.”

  Clay couldn’t help it. He laughed, and the laughter loosened something inside him that had been wrapped up tight for nearly a year.

  He didn’t care if they took longer than they’d planned. They’d thought to sate themselves, and take the edge off? The thought formed that he would never be completely sated where Tasha Garwood was concerned.

  Don’t go there. It’s just sex.

  “Come on, woman. We’re not done with you yet.”

  * * * *

  Tasha hadn’t been a virgin for a long time. There had been a couple of men in her life—the last one she’d believed had been the one—and no one after him for several years since. There’d been no one until now.

  Is the difference in the experience between then and now due to my being older than I was? In the next heartbeat, Tasha knew that wasn’t it—or wasn’t the most of it.

  Sex had always been good, but this, this was more than good. This was right.

  Clay’s soft words still bathed her neck. The water stopped, and when Gord stepped away from her, Clay lifted her into his arms.

  “Not done with me, huh?” She eased back just enough so she could look into Clay’s eyes. Oh, he sure didn’t look so aloof now. Emotion swirled in his chocolate brown eyes. Conflicting emotion, but that was all right.

  They, all three of them, had baggage, and she would never hold his against him. She figured it would take some time for him to stop thinking of himself as being married to Vicky. That was okay, too. His wife had mattered and really, she wouldn’t have him be any other way.

  And who knows what this is between us? Yes, it felt right to her, almost destined, that she make love with these two men. But she was no naïve miss banking on finding
a couple of Mr. Rights and living behind a white picket fence for the rest of her life. It could very well be that this was just an interlude, just a moment out of time.

  Tasha put away the heavy pondering. Now was the time for simply enjoying the moment, and the two men who seemed more than a little taken with her.

  “Not by a long shot,” Clay said. He stepped out of the shower stall and Gord was there, large fluffy towel in hand.

  Wrapping the warmed bath sheet around her, he took her from Clay and then sat with her on the bench that stretched out beside the spa tub.

  “You’re going to spoil me.”

  “This isn’t a problem,” Gord said. “Personally, that would be what I consider a perk. Besides, talk about spoiling.”

  “Exactly. We could say the same to you.” Clay quickly dried himself, and then reached for another, smaller, towel. He was careful as he used it to take some of the water from her hair. Her scrunchie was definitely hindering the process. If she’d been thinking, she would have used a clip to secure her ponytail atop her head, which would have kept her hair drier.

  Live and learn. Tasha reached up and deftly removed the thing.

  “That’s better,” Clay said. He wrapped her hair in the towel, squeezing gently. He tugged, and she followed the unspoken direction, tilting her head back.

  His gaze met hers. “Will you let me fuck you? I find I very much want to feel my cock inside your hot little pussy.”

  Here was one thing she could do. Though it only lasted for a flash of time, she’d seen the vulnerability in Clay’s eyes. Perhaps it was her Romany blood that let her almost feel his emotions. He wanted her, and fought a tug-of-war within himself as to what that meant. From Gord she perceived the emotion of having come home. While she didn’t know if this was going to be a forever love, or not, she didn’t mind that he felt that way.

  Clay was lost in his own conflict. So she would give him what he needed, what he wanted, and hope her giving would help him heal.

  Instead of words, she gave him actions. She reached for him, and sighed with pleasure when he scooped her up and into his arms. Over his shoulder she met Gord’s gaze. The pleasure she saw there told her he, too, knew of Clay’s inner conflict.

  Clay carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Following her down, he ranged himself on her right side.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He skimmed his hand down her body, treating her breasts and her stomach to the lightest of caresses. “Gord was right, what he said about this.” He bent over and kissed her barely there scar. He met her gaze, and then a twinkle of mischief shone in his.

  Clay’s hand strayed lower, and he strummed his fingers over her mound and then down, dipping them between her wet folds. “Mmm, you’re so hot and wet and ready.”

  Tasha met his gaze. “I am ready. I want your cock inside me. I want to please you. I want to please you both.” She looked from him to Gord.

  “I’m pretty damned pleased already,” Clay said.

  Clay kissed her, his lips and tongue mating with hers, leading her in a slow and sexy dance. When he lifted his head, she mewed in protest. He gave her what could only be called a cheeky smile, and then he began to kiss his way down her body.

  He made a place for himself between her thighs, spreading them wide. He blew on her pussy, and she shivered.

  “I wasn’t the only one whose eyes bugged out when you had my cock in your mouth, baby. Why don’t you suck Gord’s cock while I taste your hot little pussy?”

  Gord had stretched out on her left, and at Clay’s suggestion, his already hard cock gave a little bob—as if it nodded, wholeheartedly, in agreement.

  Tasha wanted it all. She wanted these men one at a time and together, every single way she could have them.

  The gush of her juices caused her to flex her inner muscles. That action seemed to send a tiny tendril of pleasure zinging through her.

  “I’d like that.” She reached down and fisted Gord’s cock. She looked at him and said, “Come up here. I want to taste you.”

  Gord gained his knees, leaned down, and gave her a gentle, nearly chaste kiss. Then he moved up the bed and laid down again, his cock very close to her face.

  Tasha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of him. Opening her eyes, she saw the single drop of liquid that emerged from him, a luscious little drop of pre-cum that teased her. Grinning, she snaked her tongue out and slurped it up.

  Gord moaned.

  “Damn, that is hot.” Clay responded by giving her pussy a long, slow lick.

  “Please.” She needed them both. She needed to feel Gord’s cock in her mouth, and she needed the pleasure that Clay’s half-lidded gaze promised. Giving in to her needs, she fisted Gord, and drew him just that much closer. Then she opened her mouth and sucked his cock inside.

  Her arousal swirled in her, spiking higher with each swipe of Clay’s tongue and each draw on Gord’s cock. Surrendering completely to the eroticism, she sucked and stroked, and lifted her pussy toward Clay’s eager tongue. The music of moans and groans and wet loving filled the air, and Tasha reveled in the sensuality, and the heat.

  Releasing thought, she simply gave and took, shivering as Clay’s oral caresses and Gord’s unconscious thrusts fed her craving for them. Her entire body began to undulate, as if the arousal within her took over. Gord stroked her hair and held her head, and sounded on the brink of orgasm. His cock hardened, and she tasted more of that delicious cream.

  “I’m close, darlin’.”

  She knew he warned her, in case she didn’t want to swallow—but swallowing was what she really wanted to do.

  Clay’s strokes slowed to a gentle rhythm and she felt him watching.

  “Take him over, baby.”

  Her pussy quivered when his whispered words feathered over it. Tasha closed her eyes, cupped Gord’s scrotum, and began to draw on him long and deep.

  “Yes! Tasha, yes!” Gord’s strangled cry blanketed the first jet of his jism, and Tasha sucked and swallowed stream after stream. He tasted subtly different from Clay, but just as good. Just as satisfying, too, this gift she gave him—this gift they gave each other.

  Just as Gord gave her his last little bit of cum, Clay moved. He sucked her clit into his mouth at the same time he inserted his fingers into her cunt. The double foray pushed Tasha over the edge. She screamed around Gord’s cock as she came. Wave after wonderful wave of bliss consumed her. Her nipples beaded, her breath rasped, and she wondered, for just a moment, if a person could die from too much ecstasy.

  Gord eased out of her mouth, and moved back as her climax ebbed. Clay moved up her body and thrust his cock into her in one hard, bold thrust.

  “Wrap yourself around me, woman. Give me everything.”

  Unable to resist—unwilling to resist—Tasha enveloped Clay, arms and legs, and held him close.

  He moved in her, a pounding, desperate rhythm. All that was woman in her held fast, and returned his thrusts, measure for measure. She would give and give until he found what he needed within her body.

  And she understood with a sudden clear vision that what he needed from her was not only satiation from her body, but succor from her heart and soul as well.

  Chapter 10

  “I finished working on the brochure for your new venture this morning, Johnny. I just sent it to you in an e-mail attachment.” Clay’s Bluetooth sat securely in his right ear, and his cell phone hung on his belt. Johnny Banks and his wife Sally owned and operated a nature-outfitters’ store in Mississauga—a large city just next door to Toronto, and considered part of the Greater Toronto Area. Johnny had been a client of Clay’s for the last several years, and a few more miles now spread out between them didn’t change that.

  Clay let his gaze track out his office window to the open fields that lay beyond the house. Grandma Kate said the wildflowers would begin to bloom before long. He was looking forward to seeing them.

  “Let me pull the file up, Clay, and I’ll have
a look at it. So, you guys doing okay down there in the wilds of Texas?”

  Like a lot of his early clients, Johnny had been a friend first. Clay had made the decision five years before to leave behind the daily commute to the corporate big-name ad agency on Spadina Avenue and open his own small graphics firm from home, instead. It not only got him out of the commute, but the seemingly endless meetings and schmoozing that he, as an avowed introvert, found so hard. Johnny had immediately sent him work.

  Last summer, when Clay announced his intention to move to Texas, some of his friends had been a little skeptical. They only knew about the state what they saw on television. Mostly, though, his friends had understood his decision. He’d responded to the twin catalysts of needing less emotional surroundings, and his desire to bring his children out of the mega-city, and they got that.

  In response to his friend’s question, Clay chuckled. “It’s not all that wild, Banks. And yes, we’re doing pretty well here, all things considered. The kids are making new friends, and since just about everyone in town is family, of a sort, I feel a lot more at ease when they’re not in my sight.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” On the other end of the line, Johnny sighed. “Shaun’s a good kid, Clay. He was just getting in with the wrong crowd—that, and acting out his anger and his grief over Vicky’s death.”

  “I know it.” Clay did know that, especially the anger part. They’d spent several hours as a family, and individually, in counseling. “But you and I both know how devastating just getting in with the wrong crowd can be for an adolescent in Toronto,” Clay said. Their mutual friend, Greg Kirkpatrick’s middle son, Michael, had made some bad choices in friends. He’d only been fourteen at the time he began to run wild. He’d ended up wounded in a drive-by shooting that had been gang-related. Greg and Mary had damn near lost their boy.

  So when Clay had seen his own son headed for disaster, he’d reacted immediately by bringing them all here.

  Yes, Lusty was a lot different in many ways from what they were all used to, but there could be no denying the relief he felt at being surrounded by family. No place was perfect, or completely insulated. But here, at least, because of the closeness of the community, Clay felt more empowered than he had back home.