Touching his lover’s mind, he was shocked to find his thoughts on Brigit.
The gut-punch reaction was a stab of jealousy, until he got to see the whole picture. And loved it.
“Show me more,” he ordered Ja’Rol.
His lover’s eyelids snapped open, guilty at being caught red-handed in his lust.
Leaning forward, Slone kissed his chest, running his tongue over the single piercing, then rising to Ja’Rol’s hungry lips. “I’m not jealous. She will fit with us perfectly. You’ll see.”
“You’re not mad?” he asked Slone.
“I was, for a second. Do I not please you anymore?” He withdrew until he hung on the cusp, then holding Ja’Rol in a firm grip, rammed in as deep as either could take, Slone’s balls slapping soundly against Ja’Rol’s ass.
Ja’Rol’s head snapped on his neck, a grunt of pleasure vibrating his chest.
“Like no one else.” He licked his lips, his pulse beating wildly in his neck. Rough pants rocked his entire body.
Slone growled his demand. “Then show me more.” Thrusting, he realized what he’d seen had actually turned him on, created more of a hunger for the lush blonde, for her body, for her taste, to watch her and Ja’Rol writhing together. Starting tomorrow, they were making it a mission to woo her into joining with them, to completing them. And Ja’Rol’s desires were utterly decadent in their graphicness, mirroring his own in more ways than he’d realized.
His lover was not shy in naming his desires, craving to fill her body with the thick, veined cock slapping at skin with each powerful thrust between the two men. To feel her sliding against him, over him, to lick her sweet skin and relish her taste. Ja’Rol was making Slone insane with wanting for the woman, and she wasn’t even there!
Grasping hard flesh in his hand, he told him, “Imagine her. Imagine her tight cunt wrapped around you as I fill you.” Ja’Rol’s moans were deepening to animalistic rolls of sound. “Both of us riding you.”
“Shit, Slone,” Ja’Rol whimpered. Dark brown hair bounced as he threw his head side to side in wild abandon, lost in the pleasure his own imagination was creating for them both. Pounding into his lover’s ass, Slone stroked the cock in his hand, doubling the heat, creating wave after wave of blistering ecstasy to drown in until Ja’Rol lost the last thread of his physical control. Knowing what Ja’Rol wanted, he gave him the image of her pussy dripping over his cock as she pumped up and down. Full breasts would beg for his mouth.
Slone’s jaw clenched when Ja’Rol’s orgasm exploded from the cock in his hand, splattering his chest with his shouted release. Tightness hit his spine and balls like a vice. Ja’Rol’s orgasm clenched his passage around Slone’s dick, sending shards of pleasure whipping through him. The image of her pinned between them, each with a cock filling her body as full as they could to bring her pleasure, slammed into Slone and he roared, jerking as his own orgasm erupted.
Stiffening, he spilled his release in spurts, Ja’Rol capturing him, milking him until both were spent. Catching himself before he collapsed forward, Slone threaded his fingers through Ja’Rol’s hand, neither moving quickly, uncaring of their mess.
“Love you,” Slone gasped, seeking air. Adrenaline sent residual shocks down his torso. A few landed right on his balls and each one made him grunt as memory of their shared pleasure replayed.
Reaching for him, Ja’Rol swept a loving kiss to his lips. “Love you back,” he said with a satisfied sigh.
Chapter Four
Brigit drew a breath as Carl brought the sedan to a slow crawl. They’d entered the airport through a back gate, which she hadn’t been expecting. At this point, when the front terminal never even came into view, she’d finally allowed they weren’t flying commercial.
“I’ll never be able to pay this back,” she muttered. Several airplanes stood out on the asphalt, silent metal birds worth a fortune. Bright lights made them all gleam like ice.
“Miss?”
Brigit looked forward, finding a questioning robin egg blue stare in the mirror.
“Nothing Carl. Thank you again for bringing me.” She tried to smile, but doubted it came close to looking real. It wasn’t like it had been a chore to wait for him in the hotel lobby. This however, yeah, she hadn’t been expecting this.
“My pleasure.”
Then the car stopped and she straightened. Exiting the car, he came to her door and helped her unfold from the vehicle. The closest plane had the hatch open, a huge white private jet with black and green decal striping, like the colors of the office. The muted slam of the trunk told her Carl had grabbed her things.
Turning to him, she was ready to tell him to take her to the main gates when a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Oh man. Did he have to look
that
good in jeans? His brown hair was barely out of place, running along his temple, giving him a dangerous appeal.
Like he needed more?
The business suit and tie were gone. Instead he wore some of the sexiest denim and cotton a man could legally wear. Unable to not do it, her gaze fell south and her heart thudded.
Shouldn’t have done that,
she berated herself, whipping up to focus on his clean shaven face. She fought the urge to shift from foot to foot as he neared.
“Thank you, Carl. We’ll take over for our lovely guest from here,” Ja’Rol said, clearing the distance to join them. Carl handed over her small bag and one suitcase when he reached for them. “Is this all you have?”
Brigit listened but only heard curiosity, not condescending dubiousness in the question.
“I travel light. A habit picked up from parent hopping.”
Slone popped his head out the door. “Come on, you two. The tower is moving our take off up. Rain is coming and they want the skies cleared for the larger planes.”
Her last chance to change her mind vanished. With the weight of his palm warming her spine, he guided her to the doorway.
“Nice to see you again, Brigit.” Slone greeted her with a smile.
She halted on the threshold. “Look, I really appreciate this, but I can’t let you do this. It was bad enough when I thought you two were paying for my flight. This—” She swept an arm to encompass the plane. “This is beyond anything I can repay.”
“Repay?” Ja’Rol asked, squeezing in then moving to the side to give her space. Both men were broad next to her, but neither seemed intent to crowd her. “We’re all going to the same wedding, are we not?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Then join us.”
She glanced from one to the other. Patient expressions on both. Would it be so bad to spend a few hours in luxury with two of the sexiest men she’d ever had the luck to know? Nothing said she had to stay with them. They’d offered her a way to
get
to Las Vegas, that was all. She could figure out the rest there, talk to her mom. Brigit relented, though it pained her to do it.
“Okay.”
“Mr. Wilkes, the tower is hailing us.” A man dressed in a pressed and creased uniform stood at the cockpit door.
“We’re settling. Give us five minutes,” he informed the captain.
Ja’Rol slid her bags into a compartment and asked for her hand. “Let me show you the plane before we take off.”
Slipping her hand into his larger one, a curl of warmth twined up her arm instantly. A physical reaction like nothing she’d ever known. She barely registered Slone reaching for the hatch lock to draw the door in to secure it, all her attention sucked into the wave of need that crashed over her.
Brigit followed Ja’Rol’s gentle lead as he showed her the length of the cabin, though little stuck. She couldn’t get past the building heat in her palm. Almost her entire hand was lost in his. She wasn’t a petite kind of woman, but next to these two, she felt utterly frail.
“And that’s the lavatory.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, clawing through the fog of lust.
Breathe,
she commanded herself. It almost helped.
“The restroom,” Ja’Rol clarified.
“Oh. Right, right.” Brigit felt it more than anything when he settled her into a plush leather seat, looping the belt over her lap.
“We all have to wear them, but once we’re at altitude, you can move around.” The clasp and hook clicked into place under his hands. He wasn’t trying to do more than fasten her belt, but every touch of his hands or fingers sent a new screaming wave of need through her bloodstream. She wanted to be touched so much, her skin burned.
The thrum of the engines began to hum louder, their torque building as the plane prepared for takeoff.
Ja’Rol took a seat ahead of her, and Slone sat at his side. Then together, they swiveled their chairs. Brigit stared.
“Relax,” Slone said soothingly. “Our pilots are among the best. The weather will make it a bit bumpy, but it’ll clear soon enough.”
Then they were moving.
Was it so wrong that the vibrations of the plane speeding down the runway were traveling through her system, making her thighs clench as her body ached with need? Her fingers flexed into the wood accented armrests. She purposely unclenched them twice, then gave up trying to relax. The pavement hummed and skipped beneath the jet, then there was a feeling of weightlessness—for about two seconds, right before her stomach tried to fill her shoes.
She moaned. Bending at the waist, she clutched her stomach. Her vision blurred, watery as pain sliced through her middle. She lost track of which way was up.
“Brigit?” Hands caressed her shoulders and another swept her hair out of her eyes. “Breathe.”
She sucked in air, hit with the worst case of nausea she could ever remember. Closing her eyes, she waited for it pass, diving into the black calm that rushed toward her.
* * * *
“She’ suffering,”
Ja’Rol told Slone. Anxiety was woven through the thought.
Slone lightly shaped his palm over Brigit’s forehead and closed his eyes, seeking into her physical being.
“She’s starving.” Worry for her health, and anger that she wasn’t taking care of herself, made his tone brisk.
“What?” Ja’Rol continued to massage her back, rubbing her unconscious form as Slone supported her in his strong arms. Neither felt the tilted rise of the plane.
Slone frowned. “
Carl did take her to a hotel yesterday, right?”
“I didn’t ask, but she gave us those phone numbers, and a room number.”
Slone shook her head. “
She stayed at a shelter. She hasn’t eaten in days, at least two.”
“Why?”
Disregarding her privacy, knowing he’d likely pay for the indiscretion, he sought her memories.
The deeper Slone dug, the harder his expression became, images of her father in the forefront, the cause of her misery. Verbal abuse, malicious control, a man who thrived on cruelty. The most recent fight had been emotionally horrific and brutal. Both doubted Traci had any hint of a clue of the man’s behavior toward his daughter. Brigit had told the truth. She’d just returned stateside from a trip to Paris, as in right before she’d shown up on their doorstep, seeking Traci from the plane. She’d come home early to escape her father, leaving him and her stepmother behind in France. Her hope to find her mother to recover and lick her wounds had put her instead, in their care.
“Never again.”
Ja’Rol’s statement was steel.
Slone agreed with Ja’Rol. She would never be left with that man again.