Five Ways 'Til Sunday (8 page)

She blinked her eyes. “It’s a damn incestuous family you have, Jackson Teague.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “We’re southern boys, what’d you expect? And baby, you don’t know the half of it. Just you wait.”

Chapter Seven

Jackson twisted the key in the lock. Inside the apartment, the lights were dim in the foyer, but a golden glow emanated from around the corner. He reached back and wrapped an arm around Marti’s waist and pulled her inside.

She dug in her heels. “My list wasn’t all that detailed…”

“Worried?” He kept his voice calm and cheerful, knowing it riled her.

“Scared to death.”

And she probably was given the scowl on her face. He closed the door, but also kept hold of her hand in case she tried to flee. She tugged, but stomped a couple feet farther into the apartment.

“All it said was ‘A Ménage’,” she whispered. “That could mean a lot of things. Could even mean that we watch one, but never actually do it.”

“We already did one,” he said amiably.

Her cheeks flushed. “The little blow thing?”

“Blow thing? It was a blow
job
. Deep throat. Tail wagging and you bleatin’ like a lamb.”

Her scowl deepened. “No need to get nasty.”

He grinned. “I’m not. But I do want you out of those clothes.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. When you walk in there, you need to be naked.”

Marti glared, shaking her head. “You’re not gonna leave me an inch of pride.”

“What’s pride got to do with it? This is about pleasure, sweet pea—so much cup runnin’ over pleasure that you’ll be too weak to say no to me ever again.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Letting go of her hand, he tipped it closed with a finger under her chin.

“Man, you don’t do things by halves, do you?”

“You’re the one who threw down the glove.”

“I was protecting you.”

“Do I look like I need it?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Strip.”

“What about you?”

“This is about you. Now we can do this the easy way…”

Marti didn’t need the “or” spelled out. If she didn’t do exactly as he said, he’d do it for her, and she’d have a new set of marks on her ass. “Where’s the incentive?” she grumbled.

“Baby, do you really want me to bend you over and spank you in front of them? Would you rather have one of them do it?”

She guessed she mulled that one over so long he thought she was seriously contemplating the suggestion, because he made a noise and stepped toward her, his hands dragging up her blouse and throwing it into a corner. Then busy fingers unsnapped, unbuttoned and tossed until she stood nude in front of him.

He gripped her shoulders, turned her toward the corner then gave her bottom a swat. “Get on in there. You’re keepin’ everybody waitin’.”

Embarrassment burned her face and breasts, but she kept her hands dangling by her sides and strode into the living room.

They’d performed a transformation.

The sofa and loveseat were pushed out of the way against one wall. Tables lined the opposite side of the room. Easily a dozen white candles blazed on every surface. In the center of their beige shag carpet was the red jacquard chaise from the bedroom, draped in fluffy pillows. She could only imagine what they had in mind.

As for the men, they stood shirtless, in blue jeans, a host of broad chests, naked skin gleaming with oil. Grins stretched across their faces as they all inspected her, head-to-toe. Thank God for the wax job she’d had at the salon a week ago.

Beau cleared his throat and broke rank, striding toward her and holding out his hand, palm up. Marti drew a deep breath, unsure and beginning to quiver.

Beau was the one who made her the most nervous, because he rarely gave away a thing he thought. Not by expression or word. The tribal tat encircling his upper arm only added to his aura of danger.

His hand wrapped around hers. Then squeezed. He bent toward her, until he mouth grazed her cheek. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not. Not really. This is just…not something I ever really thought I’d want.”

“But you do now?”

Her gaze locked with his. She nodded. “Is he going to hate me?” she whispered.

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll let you in on something. Something Mondo figured out.”

“What’s that?”

“Jackson liked your list.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Play hard. Make him sweat.” He straightened away, then held his hand aloft, as though escorting a princess toward a staircase—only he led her to the chaise.

By gesture, he placed her on the seat, her back supported by cushions.

As soon as she leaned back and drew a deep breath, three of Jackson’s friends moved in, kneeling around her. Beau, kneeling at the end, grasped her ankles and pulled apart her legs. Craig grabbed a long cylindrical pillow from under the lounger and placed it beneath one of her knees. Gus did the same with the other.

With her legs spread and her knees raised, every one of them had a view of her pussy. Her wet and swollen pussy.

Mondo, standing behind Beau, snapped his fingers. The men around her rose and began to strip away their clothing.

“Long as y’all don’t start dancing,” Marti gibed.

Mondo’s dark brow arched.

“Well, you look prettier than Chippendales, and you’re all getting naked.”

“You nervous?”

She lifted her chin. “’Course not.”

“Then you must be bored.” His jaw firmed. “Play with those pretty tits while we get comfortable.”

“Tits?” she asked, her voice rising.

Mondo sauntered toward her, and Marti wanted more than anything to close her legs and pull them toward her chest to hide, because the heat smoldering in his dark eyes just about burned her up.

He placed a knee on the end of the lounge and gripped the cushion on either side of her hips, bending over her. His mouth hovered just above hers. “Tits. Ass. Cunt. Get used to the words. I’ll be using them.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“Your boyfriend. He knows a thing or two about me.”

“Like?”

“Like you really shouldn’t challenge me.”

Her mouth opened, but she bit back her words. The stillness of his body, the way his gaze bored into hers, made her want to be good. “Lord, are you a Dom? Do you play in those kinky sex clubs?”

He didn’t answer, but his mouth slid into a slow smile. “Now, play with those tits.”

He bent, kissed her forehead, then backed away. Her gaze stayed locked with his, fascinated as he drew off his jeans. Already, her senses were on overload. So many tanned chests. But his caramel-colored skin was cloaked in silky black hair, nipple to nipple with a well-defined, straight trail that led directly to his cock. His balls were hairless. Had he shaved?

She almost thanked him, because she had the overpowering urge to beg him to let her blow his cock. His sex wouldn’t give her quite the jaw ache that Gus’s had, but he was long and thick. The head tapered like an arrow.

“Tits,” he repeated.

Her gaze shot back up to his face, and she flushed. Still, her hands went automatically to her breasts and she plumped them up, feathering her thumbs across the tips while her pussy grew wetter by the second.

Marti forced herself to glance around at the others, all nude, all standing with their man-parts jutting proudly over taut abdomens.

Beau drew her gaze again. His light brown chest was nearly hairless with a sparse smattering of hair at the center. His nipples were dark, his cock a deep ruddy purple. The shaft was heavily veined, the tracery of vessels raised like ridges. Lord how she’d love to feel its scrape as it crammed up inside her. The blunt, round head was every bit as big as the circumference of his cock.

Gus was a bull of a man. Well hung. His appendage was slightly curved upward, a heavy cudgel of a dick. But she already knew that. His chest was also impressive, his arms and thighs even more so. Some lucky woman, someday, would feel safe from any storm wrapped inside his embrace.

Craig was beautifully proportioned. Tall, long-limbed, gilded by blond hair on his chest that turned a darker brown as it trailed toward his groin. His long-fingered grip made a slow pass up and down his shaft while she watched.

Her breath caught at the pearl of pre-cum he worked into the eyelet opening.

Marti licked her lips, and he wiped off the drop with his thumb and came to her. She opened her mouth, not thinking really what she looked like, but when his thumb entered she eagerly closed her lips around it and sucked off the smear of ejaculate, then gave him another pull, loving the way his green eyes darkened as he watched.

Unconsciously, her thumbs and fingers plucked her nipples harder.

A strange sound, like the whirring of wheels came from behind her. She didn’t dare rise up to peer over the top of the lounge. Mondo still held her in place with his implacable face.

But slowly, Jackson, still dressed, rolled a large wooden cross into view. She wasn’t completely clueless about dungeon furnishings. The St. Andrew’s cross was formed with well oiled and smoothed wood. Black Velcro cuffs hung from short chains on the upper arms of the cross. Metal lips to stand on with Velcro closings to hold ankles secure were at the bottom.

Marti swallowed hard. “The neighbors must have loved seeing that roll through the door.”

“We brought it in a piece at a time and constructed it here. No one who isn’t in the scene will guess,” Mondo said in an uninflected voice. “Come to me.”

She sought Jackson’s gaze. He gave her slow wink, and although she detected tension in his jaw, she knew he was all right with this. So she swung her legs to the ground and pushed upward, walking with a sedate glide to her steps, even though inside her heart was beating fast as a humming bird’s wings.

Mondo’s hands were sure, his demeanor businesslike as he helped her into the footholds and strapped her ankles and hands to the cross. “The parts are moveable,” he said. “We can tilt you backward, splay your legs wider. We have control.”

She nodded her understanding. “This something you’ve all done before?” She didn’t look at Jackson, although his answer was the only one that mattered.

“We’ve all played,” Jackson said from somewhere behind her. “But I haven’t since I met you. There was no need. It’s not really my thing.”

She relaxed a little, hearing that. Tonight was an anomaly in their relationship. Playtime. “I’m glad. I like what we have, Jackson.”

“Afraid you’ll be marrying a freak?” Mondo said, his mouth curving in a hard smile.

“No, I just like what Jackson and I have.”

“It’s enough.”

She shook her head. “That makes it sound mundane. It’s not.”

He turned toward Jackson. “Sounds like your lady’s well-satisfied.” Again, his steady glance fell on her. “So why the list, hon?”

“Jackson and I have already been over this.”

“Not good enough. He roped us into this. We’re part of it now. We have a right to know why you’re putting our friend through the ringer.”

Marti bristled. She wasn’t very good at obeying. Especially not when a man was being an overbearing jerk. “Did you tie me to this thing to interrogate me or to fuck me?”

“Patience, little girl. We’ll get there.” He cupped his fingers and curled them twice. A signal to Gus. “She needs reassurance we intend to use her.”

Gus grinned and sauntered away, his hard ass flexing with every step.

She couldn’t help it—she had to look.

Mondo cleared his throat. “Am I boring you?”

She turned back, and gave him a baleful glance. Mondo was worse than a pit bull with a toy. He wasn’t going to stop until her had her all chewed up. “No, but what did you want to know?”

“Why the list?”

“I didn’t think he’d go through with it. Not in a million years. I wrote it because I was…angry. Scared. He asked me something—”

“He wants to marry you. Is Jackson really that scary?”

Her gaze fell away. “I wasn’t ready for the question.”

“You’d never discussed the subject before?”

“In a roundabout way. He knew I wasn’t ready.”

“Do you think he’ll hurt you? Cheat on you.”

She shook her head. “Never.”

“Are you afraid you will?”

“No. Despite what’s happening now, I don’t really want anyone but Jackson.”

Mondo nodded. “Next time he asks, don’t give him a kneejerk answer.”

Marti swallowed and replied meekly. “Okay.”

Gus returned with something cupped inside his hand. Mondo stood aside, and Gus knelt between her feet. She craned to look down. His gaze mocked her as he bent toward her pussy and slid his tongue between her folds and fluttered it, tickling her clit, then leaning back. “I owe you,” he murmured. “Best blowjob ever.” His thick fingers parted her, tugging open her outer lips.

Marti groaned, enraptured as he pressed his nose, chin and mouth between her legs and rolled his face in her wetness. His eyes closed. He tunneled his tongue into her, swirled his lips, suckled her folds…slowly driving her crazy with the changeups. It was frustrating, because every time the tension built, he changed his tactic. The twinkle in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was about.

She was so aroused, she barely noted when a hand touched her bottom, sliding behind her to caress one cheek then the other.

There was no ignoring the fingertip that stoked the length of her divide. “Jesus,” she gasped, tensing head to toe.

A pinch stung one cheek, making her jerk. “Relax your cheeks,” Mondo said. “Let me touch you there.”

She shook her head. “I’m good.”

Laughter, low and dirty, sounded from behind her. Another pinch, this one harder, had her gritting her teeth to keep from crying out. “That hurt.”

“Do as I say. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What? Being naked while four men watch another man eat you out?”

“No…yes. Dammit. You are not putting your finger there.”

“Oh, but I am.”

“Who does that?” Never mind Jackson had, but he was her boyfriend.

“Me. The sooner you let me, the sooner I’ll let Gus bring you to orgasm.”

Gus shook his head, which rubbed his whiskered cheeks against her inner thighs and burrowed his face deeper in her pussy. His mouth was right there…