Theirs for the Night Page 4

  But she couldn’t draw in air. Not with Galen pulling his shirt over his head in a smooth movement, revealing a chest that would have been at home on a gladiator in ancient times. Muscles roped his frame, not a single inch missing the chance to be its best self. A sprinkling of dark hair dusted his chest, trailing down to disappear beneath the band of his jeans, broken only by a handful of angry scars.

  He stopped in front of them and dragged his thumb over her bottom lip. “This mouth was made for one thing.”

  She caught his thumb between her teeth and bit him, just hard enough to get his attention. To prove that she wasn’t helpless, that she wasn’t here because they’d steamrolled her into it. She felt off-center and floaty and needy, all wrapped up into a desperate package—but she wasn’t weak.

  Meg lifted her chin and met his dark gaze. “Then do something about it.”

  There it was again. That thread of amusement that struck her right down to her core. She shifted, but Theo held her caged and spread. She rocked her ass back against his cock, desperate for him to lose control the same way she was on the verge of doing. For someone to lose control. But Galen just stood there, staring down at her with his mouth quirked in something that, on any other man, she’d call a smile. He released her mouth and shook his head. “You haven’t earned my cock and you damn well know it.”

  Galen braced his hands on Theo’s thighs. His knuckles dragged along her inner thighs, close enough to where she wanted him that she felt the air move against her exposed clit. Galen leaned down, his dark eyes intent, and Meg braced for the experience of being kissed by this intense man.

  But he didn’t kiss her.

  He dragged his rough cheek against hers, and she twisted as best she could to watch him take Theo’s mouth. Meg stared in shock as they kissed. No, calling it a kiss was too mundane by far. Galen and Theo came together like two titans clashing, like opposing forces of nature, where one had to submit or they would destroy each other.

  Theo shifted his grip on her elbows to one hand and used his free hand to tangle his fingers in Galen’s hair. He wrenched his head back, and Galen groaned softly. She felt that groan as intensely as if it had come from her throat instead of Galen’s. Theo raked his teeth over his bottom lip as they parted. His blue eyes were darker than they’d been before, as if feeding off the lust and need filling every corner of the room. He ran his thumb over Galen’s bottom lip, mirroring the move Galen had done to Meg. “You get his cock when I say you do, princess. Not before.”

  Through some unspoken agreement, they reversed positions. Theo released Meg’s arms and Galen caught her wrists in a single hand before she had a chance to fully appreciate her freedom. He dropped onto the couch with Meg sprawled on his lap. She huffed out a breath. “I can move on my own, you know.”

  “We like moving you.” Theo knelt between their spread thighs. “And you like being moved by us.” He caught the band of her panties with his thumb. “Are you attached to these?”

  Her words caught in her throat like live things, fumbling over themselves to vocalize whatever it took to take this thing with them to the next level. To satisfy the aching desire pulsing through every nerve in her body. She shook her head, mute from the need to say too much.

  “Good.” He ripped them off in a single move and tossed the ruined fabric aside. “Wider, Galen. I want to see all of her.”

  Galen responded, spreading his thighs and parting her legs further. Theo ran his thumbs up the dip where her thigh met her pussy, exploring her, his expression intense as if committing every bit of her hidden self to memory. He glanced at Galen, and that was all the other man needed to guide her hands down to the couch on either side of his hips. “Don’t move.” He spoke softly in her ear, as if too much volume would break through the spell Theo wove around them with his touch.

  He wants his hands free, too.

  Lust made her head spin. Meg nodded, drunk on their presence. “Okay.”

  There it was again, that quirk of his lips. “Good girl.” He ran his hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts as Theo dipped his head and dragged his tongue up her center.

  Her body went hot and cold, tight and unfurled, all at the same time. She gripped the edge of the couch cushions with everything she had and bit her lip hard. It was only when Galen nudged her back to lean fully against his chest that she realized she was frozen in a half sit-up, waiting for Theo’s next move. The man between her thighs chuckled, the sound vibrating across her skin to her clit. “Let Galen watch, princess. He lives for it.”

  Galen moved her hair to the side with one hand and dragged his mouth along the line of her shoulder up to her neck. His short beard prickled against her skin, which only made the slick slide of Theo’s tongue even more of an intoxicating counterpoint.

  Her brain couldn’t handle the onslaught of sensation. Theo’s hands gripping her thighs as his mouth worked her pussy. Galen playing with her nipples as he sucked on the pulse point in her neck. A sound came out of her mouth that she’d never heard before, a keening cry that was more animal than human.

  “There you are,” Galen murmured.

  Theo speared her with two fingers, and then a third, spreading her almost painfully, the sensation completely at odds with the way he sucked her clit. He met her gaze and then looked over her shoulder, and she knew he and Galen were watching each other as Theo ate her pussy.

  The realization sent her hurtling into an orgasm that blanked what few thoughts she had left in her head and bowed her back sharply enough that she would have toppled off Galen’s lap if both men hadn’t held her down. Words penetrated her pleasure, and Meg realized it was her speaking. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh my god, oh shit.”

  Theo brought her down gently. He gave her clit one last thorough suck and shifted to ever-widening circles. He nipped her thigh and sat back on his heels. “We’ve barely gotten started.”

  She blinked at him. “I don’t know if I can survive more.”

  “You can take it.” This from Galen. He reached down and cupped her pussy, his big fingers squeezing her ass in the process.

  Theo snagged one of the condoms from the coffee table and tore it open. “Change your mind, princess?”

  “Is that a trick question?” They’d just gotten her off harder than Meg had gotten off in…ever, probably. Like hell was she walking out of this apartment before she discovered the rest they had to give her. It was hard to keep her composure with her breath tearing itself from her lungs with each exhale, but she lifted her chin. “I want this.”

  “Good.” He didn’t take his gaze from her face as he unbuttoned his jeans.

  Meg had no such self-control. She stared at his cock. Holy shit. She’d known he was big—he’d had the damn thing pressed into the curve of her ass like Galen’s was right in that moment—but he was big. “Oh, fuck.”

  “That’s the idea.” Galen lifted her and turned her around as Theo caught her hips. She ended up with her hands braced on either side of Galen’s neck on the back of the couch, her legs spread wide on the outside of his thighs, her breasts nearly in his face. Meg looked down the long line of his body to where his cock strained against the front of his jeans, but Galen touched a single finger to her chin and brought her face up. “Not yet.”

  Theo stroked a hand down her spine and gripped her hip as he guided his cock to her entrance. She tensed, part of her worried—hoping—he would slam his entire length home in a single shot. She should have known better. Theo held her too tightly for her to thrust back and teased her, pumping his cock into her an inch as a time.

  Desperate, she writhed against him, her body undulating over Galen’s. “More. Theo, more.”

  Galen caught her mouth with his. His tongue tangled with hers as Theo shoved into her to the hilt. Galen broke the kiss before she could fully sink into it, and he sat back with a satisfied smirk as Theo started fucking her.

  Oh. My. God.

  Theo drove into her again and again, drawing a sob from her lips with
every stroke. Pleasure spiraled through her, drawn from his cock, pulled forth by the way Galen watched them both. She was so…so…so close.

  Everything stopped.

  Theo went still, buried as deep inside her as he could go. He kept one hand on her hip, holding her in place, and braced his other on the couch back. The new position pressed his chest to her back, and it should have made her feel caged and claustrophobic but…

  Meg didn’t feel anything but safe.

  Galen moved, sliding down the couch to sit on the floor. What is he… “Oh fuck.” He captured her hips, his hands partially overlapping where Theo held her, and then his mouth was on her. “Oh god.”’

  “Not god, princess. Galen.” Theo started moving again in long, slow thrusts that annihilated her ability to do anything but take the sensations they dealt her.

  Galen never stopped his onslaught. There was nothing cold or restrained in the way his mouth moved over her pussy. He tongued her clit even as Theo fucked her, his fingers clasping her thighs hard enough that she hoped there would be bruises tomorrow. A physical token to prove this had actually happened. That it wasn’t all some fever dream she’d wake up from in the morning and laugh about as she went about her normal life.

  Meg clung to the back of the couch hard enough that her knuckles went white. The sight of Galen’s dark head between her thighs, of knowing exactly how close his mouth was to Theo’s cock… Her body went tight and she moaned.

  Theo, damn him, seemed to understand perfectly. “Another time, it would be a stroke for your pussy, a stroke for his mouth.” His dark chuckle rumbled against her neck. “You’d like that.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. Like didn’t begin to cover how that image made her feel. The pleasure they dealt her wound tighter and tighter, so acute it almost hurt.

  Theo laced his fingers through Galen’s hair again, holding his face to her clit. It was too much. What they were doing to her was too much. How could one person survive this much pleasure?

  Meg’s orgasm buckled her knees and drew a scream from her lips. It was only their hands on her that kept her on her feet, and even then, every bone in her body turned to liquid lightning. They held her in place as Theo kept fucking her, his strokes becoming wilder, less controlled. He came with a curse, and they both melted into a puddle on top of Galen.

  She wasn’t even sure how it happened. One second she was trying to figure out how to lock her knees to keep from collapsing, and the next her head was in Galen’s lap and Theo was stretched out next to her between his friend’s thighs. Meg opened her mouth to say…

  There was nothing to say. Two orgasms—three if she counted Theo’s—and even as a part of her purred in pure satisfaction, there was no mistaking the fact that this wasn’t over yet.

  That she didn’t want it to be.

  Theo climbed to his feet and disappeared down the hallway leading deeper into the apartment. A few minutes later, he walked back in, his jeans done up. He pulled her to her feet and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Hungry?”

  Meg blinked, her mind scrambling to make the jump he obviously had. “Is that an innuendo?”

  “I’m starving.” He took her hand and pulled her along with him into the kitchen just off the living room. It was situated to maximize the view of the park and city, the bar overlooking the window and everything top of the line.

  She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and watched as he dug through the fridge. For what felt like the millionth time that night, she couldn’t shake the certainty that she’d tumbled into some alternate dimension. The feeling only became more pronounced as a soft weight settled over her shoulders. Meg looked down to find that Galen had draped a thick robe around her. She pulled it closed out of habit and was halfway through tying it before she registered that it smelled like sandalwood and spice.

  Theo.

  She shouldn’t be able to tell the difference after such a short time, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wore Theo’s robe. Galen smelled like clove cigarillos, though there was no smoke in the mix, which made her think he’d just been handling them. Former smoker. She was sure of it.

  Meg clutched the fabric closer to her throat, irritated at herself for finding comfort in something so meaningless as wearing a man’s clothing. Even this man—these men.

  Galen sat on the corner of the counter near the stove, where he could see the entire room—and the door—without moving. He seemed to do that in every room, which reminded her of the special forces guys who came into her bar sometimes. She could always tell which of them were still enlisted and which had been out for long enough to successfully settle into civilian life. The ones still in the military moved the same way Galen did—as if expecting an attack at any moment. Even when they drank, there was an air of something about them that had even the most idiotic drunks keeping their distance.

  He turned his head and met her gaze, as if daring her to speak what was on her mind. Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe…I should go.”

  “You don’t actually want to go, so no point in playing the reluctant virgin card.” Theo pulled a stack of Chinese takeout containers from the fridge and set them on the counter to inspect them. The words weren’t harsh, exactly, but they stung all the same. He glanced at her, blue eyes devoid of the amusement she’d come to expect there.

  The truth snaked through her to take up residence in her stomach. It was all an act. When she’d first met them, she’d assumed Galen was the ringleader. He was so intense and, even if he let Theo do the talking, his presence overwhelmed her with proximity alone. Theo had seemed safe by comparison. Normal, even, if she didn’t think too hard about the fact they were obviously some kind of item.

  Meg had been so, so wrong.

  There was only one man in charge here, and it was the one currently holding out a container of fried rice as if in a dare. She licked her lips and took the container, because there was nothing else to do. She had no business being intrigued by these two beyond what they could give her physically, but being around them was like holding one of those Russian hatching dolls in her hand. Every time she thought she had their number down, a new layer would be revealed.

  It’s only been an hour or so. How many layers can they possibly reveal tonight?

  There was no telling.

  She stared at the food and finally set the white box aside. “What is this?”

  “Chicken fried rice. Seemed a safe enough bet. Everyone likes chicken fried rice.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Galen hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on and every breath seemed to send a ripple through his muscles. “Theo is trying to give you a chance to process, princess.” He snorted and leaned back against the cabinets. “We barely tested the waters and you were on the cusp of hyperventilating.”

  “It’s called an orgasm, Galen. You should learn to recognize it,” she snapped back. If there was one thing Meg couldn’t stand, it was being handled. She’d dealt with that bullshit from the time she was a child, first after her father left, and then later whenever the subject of the unending bills arose with her mother. With her teachers sending pointed notes home about being properly fed and clothed, she’d learned to recognize what a furrowed brow or nervous hands meant.

  Bad news was coming.

  These men weren’t delivering bad news, but they were treating her as if she was some idiot who didn’t know what she’d signed up for when she left the club with them. She’d just come harder than she ever had before and, damn it, she wanted more.

  She wanted what they’d promised her.

  Meg took them in, from the guarded way Galen held himself, able to spring into motion as the slightest provocation, to the carefully casual way Theo leaned against the counter as if he really was the least dangerous person in the room.

  She took a step backward, and then another. Meg kept her expression contained, but she almost laughed at the disappointment that fl
ickered through Theo’s blue eyes. Don’t have my number down quite yet, do you? She twisted to look behind her, taking in the single hallway that undoubtedly led to a bedroom—or more. The front door was in the same direction, which seemed to be where they expected her to go from the tension filtering into their bodies.

  To leave.

  “Theo. Galen.” She waited for them to look at her and dropped the robe. Meg crooked her finger at them and tried to act like she was cool and collected and not about to bolt at the sheer hunger that flashed through their expressions. “Come and get me.”

  Chapter 5

  Damn it, Galen liked her.

  He slid off the counter and glanced over to find Theo watching him. They’d known each other so damn long, had gone through so much shit, he didn’t have to hear his friend’s words aloud to know what that look meant. “Shut up.”

  “Told you so.”

  “You didn’t tell me shit.” He started across the living room, heading in the direction he could hear Meg’s footsteps as she fled. A quick touch to the front door confirmed it was still locked and secure. He hesitated, even though every instinct he had shouted for him to chase Meg, to bear her down to the floor, to fuck that sexy smirk right off her face.

  It didn’t matter what he wanted, though.

  Not entirely.

  “Go.” Theo didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t have to. Even without his public speaking training, Galen was so fucking attuned to him, he could pick up a whisper across the room if he concentrated. A necessary skill he’d developed over the years. Theo had a nasty habit of biting off more than he could chew because his eye was so focused on the game that he didn’t acknowledge the threats rising up against him. He saw the big picture, and he was brilliant at putting all the pieces into place to get the end result he wanted.

  If Galen had one skill set, it was keeping Theo safe.