Get Off Easy (Noble House, #1) (23 page)

Saint wanted to erupt like a fucking geyser, but he refused.

Boyce’s ass tightened so hard and fast, Saint could barely move. But Saint powered on, shoving hard against the resistance, grinding his hips as Boyce jerked hard and unleashed the first spurt of cum. Boyce tore Saint’s hand from his throat and gave a gut-deep roar as he gave himself over to the climax, drenching his abdomen and Saint’s arm as he came.

As Saint gently withdrew, he wrapped his hand around his straining dick. Boyce continued to dig his fingers into Saint’s wrist as his body jerked from the power of his release.
Perfect
. With a few, quick pulls, Saint came, spraying Boyce’s abdomen with hot semen.

Stroking his thumb across Boyce’s abs, Saint married their fluids together, then lifted it to his mouth. As he swallowed, he tugged at Boyce’s nape, and crushed their mouths together.

H
oly fuck
.

At her desk, in the privacy of her hotel room, Grae sat open mouthed and stared at the computer screen. The two men cleaned up, quietly talking and whispering to one another. Sharing kisses. Caresses.

Just when she’d thought she’d seen it all.

The moment between Boyce and Saint had left her speechless.

Burning hot.

Itchy for more.

She wanted to join them.

She hadn’t meant to watch. She’d clicked on the program for Saint’s security work by accident. By the time the window had opened, showing Boyce enthusiastically sucking Saint’s cock, she’d been too stunned to look away. And too horny to deny herself the gorgeous view.

Nice to know her voyeuristic tendencies were alive and well.

Just one more second, she’d kept telling herself as she’d watched. One more caress. One more kiss. What was the harm? No harm at all, except for the fact her skin was feverish and felt as if it had been stretched too tightly over her muscles. And the ache between her legs? Unbearable. She needed some kind of release. One that had Boyce’s and Saint’s names painted all over it.

When Saint had levered up, switched positions and started elevating his control of Boyce to astonishing levels...
whew
. She’d never seen a breath control scene, but holy hell was she ready to watch another one.

As long it was those two.

Hell, she was ready to do anything as long as
they
were involved.

She pushed the laptop closed as she stood, her body vibrating from unreleased pressure. She had every intention of emailing the director who’d contacted her yesterday, but she could barely remember her own name, much less hash out details of a new contract.

She also needed to take a shower as she’d worked up a healthy sweat tidying up the guy’s place. She hadn’t meant to turn her cleaning trip into a full out assault. To do the consolidating she’d dug into when she’d found the closet of unorganized pile of boxes and bags. She wasn’t even sure why she’d launched into the effort like she had. Something about putting their belongings in order made her happy.

But she knew she’d pleased them as well.

When the phone rang, she realized she’d been mindlessly staring into the refrigerator for the past ten minutes. “Hello?”

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Her already revved system kicked into overdrive at the timbre of Boyce’s voice. The slightly broken way it sounded because he was still coming down from his sex high. She tried her best to not think about two strong, virile male bodies coming together in the heat of passion. Of her between them. Under them. Muscles bunching and releasing as they all came together in one hot tangle of sweaty, hot flesh.

Ah, yeah. Mark that fantasy with a great big red fail stamp.

“Hi,” she said slowly, hoping she didn’t sound breathless or...aroused.

“You all right? Your voice sounds...odd.”

Damn. “Fine. Just tired. I think.” She paused to swallow, wondering how much she should implicate herself. “I’m not sure.”

“Get so lost in your work that you forgot the time. Been there. I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

“No.”
I was just fantasizing about you two fucking me. No big deal.

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to take a drive with us next weekend. Saturday specifically.”

She yanked her mind back to the task at hand. They’d invited her to spend the day with them. Again. Even as her empty pussy clenched, her heart soared. “Uh, sure. I can take the day off.”

“Great. We’ll pick you up around seven.”

Panic set in as she replaced the phone on the cradle. How was she going to look them in the eyes? A silly notion considering the fact she’d had sex with them both already. Just not at the same time.

The passionate display she’d seen cemented all the reasons why she wanted them. She’d seen hints of that level of passion between them during their scenes, but that...
that
was just indescribable.

Snap out of it, girl. Not as though you can tell them you were spying on them now, can you?

Or that she wanted to marry them.

Next Saturday dawned bright and sunny. Typical beautiful California weather. Though too fast for Grae to get a handle on everything swirling through her mind. But as she’d opened her hotel door, she’d schooled her features and given them the brightest smile she could muster.

She sat in the backseat of Saint’s car while he drove. Boyce had slipped into the passenger seat and angled his body toward her, giving her the perfect view of his striking face.

“Where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if we told you.”

She hadn’t expected either of them to tell her. But there were other ways. “Obviously we’re not going to someplace fancy. Not given the opposing choices in attire.”

Boyce’s gaze flicked toward Saint. “Oh, I don’t know, Saint looks like he could be sitting behind a desk right now.”

Grae agreed. The suit was remarkably similar to the choice of clothing he’d worn for the first scene they’d had together. The colors were slightly darker and more muted. Regardless of how Saint dressed, he was breathtaking. Boyce looked easy and casual in worn jeans and a white tee so thin, Grae wondered why he’d even bothered at all.

“Still. An odd choice for a Saturday afternoon, don’t you think?”

Boyce gestured her closer, his breath hot in her ear as she angled forward. “Wait until you see what he’s wearing underneath.”

Saint grinned in the rearview mirror as she glanced his way.

A thousand possibilities flashed through her mind in the blink of an eye. Though she considered herself a resourceful woman, she knew whatever they’d cooked up was a million times better. “Something tells me it’s not as simple as an undershirt and briefs.”

“Never is,” Saint said with a cunning grin. “Place looks busy today.”

Grae looked out of the windshield, narrowing her eyes at the parking structure Saint was pulling the car into. “Where are we?”

“You’ll see.” Boyce offered her his hand after opening the door, waiting patiently as she stepped out. He gestured to the high concrete barrier wall. “Take a look.”

Anxious, she crossed in a few strides, and peered over the edge. Two long rows of tents lined the street three stories below. People milled around in the center of a street that had been closed to vehicular traffic. A big banner hung between two buildings a few blocks down, and Grae could just make out the large red writing from here.

“Oh! It’s the Fordham Street Fair.”

Saint joined her at the wall. “The one weekend a year the city shuts down and lets sin and debauchery take over.”

Her excitement grew. “I’ve always wanted to come here, but I could never get the timing right. I was always too busy on a movie at the time.”

“Well, now you aren’t, and here we are.” Saint stepped back and offered his bent arm to her. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” It was hard not to bounce out of her skin as they made their way to the street level. The Fordham Street Fair was the largest single gathering of like-minded people interested in all the variety the BDSM lifestyle had to offer. There were vendors, artists, demonstrations, and even a ball on Saturday night.

Tonight.

Exhilaration coursed through her as they joined the flow of the crowd on the street. The long line of tents seemed to go on for miles, and Grae was anxious to visit every single one of them just to see what they had to offer. No telling if she’d ever be able to come back next year. Or any year thereafter.

She felt at home, filing along with the mass of people who were from all walks of life. There was no judgment. No scorn. No ridiculing someone because of what they liked. The men had taken her hands, tangling their fingers with hers as they progressed.

She laughed when a man dressed in leather from head to toe stepped in front of her and bowed. He said nothing, simply gesturing to his booth filled with every imaginable item covered in leather. A large St. Andrews cross stood to one side, a split-seat chair in the far corner.

The chair was currently occupied by a petite waif of a woman. Her pointed nose and pixie hair cut added to the fairy-like quality. A very tall, very muscular man stood beside her, tapping a red leather riding crop against her bare breasts. Though the woman’s skin was flushed a bright pink, a pleasant smile indicated she was well-nestled in subspace.

“Care to give it a try?” Boyce nuzzled her ear, caressing her back under her shirt. Heat followed his touch, searing her skin. Awakening her. “See how one of those floggers feel? How a whip feels slapping against your skin?”

Grae gulped. The idea was both frightening and alluring. She’d never gotten into impact play, mostly because she felt an extreme level of trust was necessary when hitting was involved in play. She’d never been with a Dom long enough to find out, but if there were any two Doms she trusted, that she wanted to introduce her to pain play, it was Saint and Boyce.

Saint stepped her to side, pressing his suit-clad body against her arm. “Let me strap you to the cross, fully clothed. Boyce can show you how skilled he is with a riding crop.”

“Boyce? Not you?”

Saint smiled. “There are still a lot of surprises to discover about us, angel.”

Boyce nudged her forward. “Get her ready for me, Saint. I’ll go find something suitable.”

Considering the fact she was fully dressed, she expected Saint to just secure her to the cross and be done. But he took his time, gently running his hands over her and putting her in the headspace she needed to be in for something so public. Instead of using the cuffs attached at critical points of the cross, Saint held her in place with his forearm around her waist.

The strength of his will would have kept her from moving.

Rough wood grazed her palm, her fingertips, a sign of all the other people who’d been bound to the cross before her. Some of the grooves were so deep, she had to wonder what sort of pleasure they’d found. What would it be like to be bound up in such a device at the club? Spread out and wanting? Begging? Needing? Aching? Screaming?

Movement behind her caused her to turn her head. Boyce stood a few feet away, his arms behind him as he held whatever he’d found out of sight. “Slow and light, I think. To start. Safe word will make it all go away, angel.”

Something brushed against her ass, a gentle caress that followed the generous curve of her butt. Her jeans did nothing to dull the sensation grazing her skin.

“Tell her what I have, Saint.”

Saint spread his hand wide against her back, holding her firmly in place as Boyce traced her curves. “Boyce has a black riding crop. Though I doubt he’d get near a horse with the heart-shaped tip he’s currently tapping against your ass.”

A slight sting radiated where Boyce struck her with the implement. It hurt. But the pain was an ache in a good way that dissolved somewhere along the route to her pussy. The discomfort quickly diminished, vanishing all together in a matter of seconds as her inner walls started to clench.

To protest being so empty.

“But I would like to see the heart-shaped marks the crop leaves on her bare skin.” Boyce struck her other cheek, the same pain blooming then vanishing. He continued to strike her body at various points until her lower half was vibrating from the energy flowing through her.

Saint balanced the slaps of pain with gentle caresses, but never fully massaging away the sting Boyce continued to rain down on her. The world took on a hazy cast, as though she wasn’t quite in tune with reality. As if she was one step off. The sounds of pleasure coming from the men—one striking her, one holding her—made her arousal sharp enough to cut.

“Such a pretty sub, drifting along in subspace.”

Saint’s voice echoed in her head, far off and distant. Her thoughts were jumbled, words just beyond her grasp. All she knew was that she felt fucking fabulous. Not knowing what else to do, she rested her forehead against the cross and drifted along in the pleasure.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer on the cross. Thin tree branches swayed in the light breeze overhead, a rustle of wind swirling around her, brushing over her still-heated skin. Her damp forehead. Hushed voices sounded to her right, and she turned her head to find Boyce and Saint quietly talking. Their backs were to her as they watched the crowd of people. Though they sat a foot or so apart, their fingers were tangled with hers, maintaining their intimate connection with her.