It didn’t even matter that the clitoral stimulator wasn’t vibrating. The tiny box attached to the thong-like underwear nestled perfectly against the taut button of her sex, stimulating her regardless.
Too damn honest, that was her problem. She should have just slipped the little device on when she was on her way home, and she wouldn’t have had to suffer through hours of unrequited desire while she cooked up delicacies for the unusually heavy Monday evening crowd. Then again, she couldn’t lie worth a damn. Next time she might actually deliberately disobey them, since she kind of wanted to see what her punishment entailed, but tonight she wanted to play with more of these intriguing toys they had purchased.
She walked to the hook on the wall to hang up her apron and shuddered at the resulting sensations. Her panties were soaked.
“Hey, Dev, you on your way home?”
Devi jumped at Rana’s voice and turned to where she stood in the doorway of the darkened kitchen. “Yes. I was just closing up here. My turn.” Every night, Leena handled the money, Rana was responsible for the main floor and Devi closed down the kitchen. The three of them switched off on general close up.
“Okay. I’m renting a movie. Want to come over and watch with me?”
“Uh, no, that’s okay. I’m so tired.” Devi faked a yawn and felt foolish.
It seemed to work, though, since Rana didn’t question her. “Rain check, then. Do you need a ride home?”
“I brought my car tonight.”
“Wow, that’s not like you.”
Devi shrugged. “Didn’t feel like walking.” A partial truth. Jace and Marcus’s home was too far to walk.
Glutton for Pleasure
Even if she was going to her house, she didn’t think she’d be using her feet in the next couple of weeks. Forget the fact that work was only a couple of blocks away from her home along brightly lit streets that bustled with activity, even at ten p.m. Jace had freaked out when she’d admitted she regularly walked to and from the restaurant. Not so different from her sisters, actually, each of whom looked for excuses to drive her home at night.
Unlike her sisters, Jace and Marcus had a wonderfully gifted way with words, and after an intense lecture on the car ride from the porn shop, with images of her potentially raped, mutilated and desecrated body dancing in her head, she’d finally conceded and promised to use her car in the evenings.
Sorry, environment.
It seemed like a simple thing to give in on, and if they had her wearing more toys like the one nestled against the heart of her sex, she wouldn’t want to walk for any prolonged period of time. As it was, she’d be jumping her men for the remote as soon as she got home. If just the slight pressure and weight of the stimulator could make her this crazy, imagine the fun she could have when it started vibrating.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Rana paused at the door. “You’re sure you’re okay, right?”
“Rana, I am begging you, please don’t ask me that all week.”
Her sister’s smile was sheepish. “Sorry. I promise, I’ll let it drop. And I have to say, you definitely have a spring in your step today. I’m so happy to see it.”
Devi kept her smile in place until Rana left. Thank God she didn’t know the source of that spring.
She rushed through the rest of the procedures to close down the restaurant, unable to spare more than a minute of the time necessary to do so. By the time she set the alarm and locked the door, a fine tremor of anticipation had her hands shaking.
Devi turned the key in the ignition of her cute little Nissan and pulled out the piece of paper in her pocket on which she’d scribbled Jace’s directions. She felt rather conflicted about going to their place. Somehow it made the relationship seem more legitimate. Protocol probably dictated they meet in a hotel room or something, but she had a frugal soul. Why pay fifty bucks for a shady bed when she had a free one?
Luckily, the upscale address wasn’t too far away. Within ten minutes she pulled into the driveway of a two-story white condo with a dual-car garage. Her headlights slashed across the front of the small home. Neither of the twins’ cars sat outside, and the windows were dark.
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She killed the engine and got out of the car slowly, comparing the number on the address in her hand to the one above the garage. They matched, but she didn’t want to knock on the wrong door at this hour of the night. Devi slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and pressed the number to speed dial Jace.
He picked up on the first ring. “You’re late. Where are you?”
She smiled at the uncharacteristic impatience in his voice, which matched her own. “I think I’m outside your house, but your cars aren’t outside, and I wanted to make sure before I knocked.” As she stared at the front of the house, a curtain moved in one of the upstairs windows.
“I see you. I’m just hopping in the shower, I’ll be right down. Come on in.”
She hesitated and then opened the unlocked door. Despite all they’d done together, it seemed far too intimate to walk inside their home without knocking.
“Nice,” she muttered as she entered the condo. The condo was cookie-cutter perfect and boasted that new-home smell unique to modern constructions. A dim bankers lamp lit the high-ceiling foyer. A hardwood staircase spiraled up to the second floor, and a balcony overlooked the foyer. Spotless white tiles lay in a diagonal pattern on the floor. Since she always did at home, and fearful of marring the tiles, she slipped her pumps off and grimaced at the coldness of the ceramic under her feet. Tile throughout might be the rage in most Florida homes, but she loved her shag carpeting and plush rugs. Who wanted to walk on cold tile?
“Make yourself at home,” Jace yelled down, and she jumped. She could hear the water in the shower starting, and for a second she considered joining him and scratching the itch they had stoked for her.
Hmm, have shower sex or poke around their house?
Since she didn’t see or hear Marcus anywhere, the latter idea was too tempting to turn her back on. Giving in to her curiosity, she wandered into the dark dining room. Sleek, ultramodern black and white furnishings decorated the place. A black dining table had been set with placemats and china and looked like it had never so much as been touched. She couldn’t imagine the delicate plates in front of Jace or Marcus. Framed black and white abstract paintings hung on the white walls. She shivered. The décor left her cold, not a touch of personality or individuality to lighten the place.
She escaped into the adjoining kitchen, where someone had left the under-the-cabinet lighting on. She sighed a bit over that convenience, and allowed her hand to coast over the black 94
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granite countertop with only a hint of covetousness. On the whole though, the kitchen was far too small to do any kind of serious cooking.
Despite the shortcomings of the room, Devi couldn’t resist giving one last pat to the stainless-steel double fridge before she walked through the other opening of the kitchen. She felt for the light switch on the wall and found it. A smile touched her lips.
Because, clearly, this was where her men spent most of their time. Instead of cold designer furniture, a battered leather sectional and chair took up most of the space, centered around a huge flat-screen TV. A fleece blanket lay crumpled on the foot of the sofa, magazines were spread open on the surface of the coffee table. A basketball had been left beside a pair of large sneakers kicked off in front of the recliner. The walls were bare of anything but the large TV, though, and unlike her own home, there were no pictures of family and friends to clutter up the surfaces.
No, wait. She walked to the entertainment center flanking the TV and picked up one of the two gold-framed photos. A family portrait of four, so sweet and picture-perfect she couldn’t help but smile at the attractive dark-haired couple. The woman and man beamed with pride while they each held a bundled infant in their arms.
Their parents.
She put down the photo, feeling vaguely intrusive, and picked up the other frame. This one was of Marcus and Jace. Judging by their casual jeans and the sweatshirts emblazoned with their university name, she pinned their ages to about their college years. They each had longer hair then, their faces unlined, their expressions far more somber and serious than she would have expected on men so young. She’d gone to culinary school instead of college, but she’d certainly been far more carefree than these two.
Their personalities were evident in the photo. Jace’s body was angled toward his brother, as if to protect him. He gazed at the camera with steady regard. Marcus, on the other hand, looked cynical and tough even then—his lips curved in a subtle sneer, his eyes narrowed and distrustful.
Devi swept her finger over his face. What had happened in his life to make him so gruff and cynical at such a young age? Had it been the loss of his parents?
No, no, no. No! No psychoanalyzing. Danger, Will Robinson.
She placed the photo on the shelf and backed away, though she realized her alarm was vaguely ridiculous. However, she was not going to stand here pondering the mysteries of these men. That train of thought did lead to danger, absolutely. Short-term sexual partners did not worry over each other’s psychological states.
“I didn’t hear you knock.”
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She spun around, her hand pressed against her chest. “Oh. Marcus. You startled me.”
“I was in the garage.”
He stood in the kitchen doorway in only a pair of unsnapped jeans. A sexy smear of grease highlighted his rock-hard abs. Involuntarily, her gaze slid over his bare chest, the arrow of hair that trailed into his open jeans. She was suddenly all too aware of the little toy she wore, forgotten while she’d toured the house.
“Um, Jace told me to just come on in. He’s upstairs, showering. I hope that’s okay.” He didn’t say anything. “I like your house. Or what I’ve seen of it.”
“Take off your clothes.”
She blinked. “Wow, you’re not one for social niceties, are you?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want a drink?”
Devi slicked her tongue over her lips. “No. I’m good.”
“Good. Take off your clothes.”
“Marcus.” She frowned, though she really wanted to laugh.
“I want to see if you’re wearing the stimulator.”
“I said I would, and I am.”
“You wore it from the minute we dropped you off?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Devi stared at him, confused. “What?”
He grinned and slid his hand into his pocket. The first gentle vibration had her legs stiffening in shock. The little box came alive, rubbing against her already-stiffened clit like the finger Jace had likened it to. She relaxed and allowed the slow pleasure to sink into her bones. Marcus didn’t allow her time to appreciate it, and he must have turned a dial up somewhere, because the vibrations against her over-stimulated clit increased in their intensity. She moaned and leaned against the couch, her legs boneless and incapable of supporting her weight.
A low male chuckle reached her. “I think we can believe her.”
She opened her eyes to find Jace standing in the room as well. Clad only in a sexy pair of black boxer briefs, water still glistening on his chest and hair, he watched her with a small smile and narrowed eyes already heated with lust.
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Just as her climax yawned before her, the soundless stimulation ended. “What are you doing? Turn that back on, this instant.”
Marcus tsked and walked forward until he stood right in front of her. “Didn’t we discuss you giving us orders?”
Heat rose from his body. All of the relentless unappeased desire from the day welled up inside of her. She frowned at him. “I was about to come.”
“We don’t want you to, yet.”
“I don’t care,” she said waspishly. “Turn that damn thing on again or one of you fuck me here.” Amazing how a couple of days of ceaseless pleasure could lower her inhibitions—she felt no hesitation in making the demand.
“No.” With that simple announcement, Marcus startled Devi by scooping her off her feet.
She shrieked and grabbed on to his shoulders. No one had carried her since she’d been a small child. Pudginess had crept up on her at a young age, so even her father had declined picking her up. “I’m too heavy for you. Put me down.”
He ignored her and spoke to his brother. “Where are the supplies?”
Supplies?
Jace studied her with predatory interest. If she hadn’t already been soaked, that look would have done it. “In my room.”
“Did you hear me? I’m too fat to be carried around like this.”
Marcus walked out of the room and back into the grand entryway. He glanced over his shoulder. “I think the toys were a bad idea. They’ve made her way too contrary.” He jostled her until she tightened her arms around his neck in reaction.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here. Wreck your back, see if I care. And the toy doesn’t make me contrary. Hours of sexual deprivation make me contrary.”
“Then you should be nicer to the men who are going to end that deprivation,” Marcus explained patiently. “In the meantime, why don’t you pretend your hero is carrying you off to be properly ravished instead of worrying about your damned weight?”
Devi paused. He had a point. Once she thought past her sexual frustration, of course. She relaxed into his arms. “Sorry. I’m not a very good heroine, I guess.”
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heavy wooden furnishings and a huge four-poster bed. Marcus looked down at her, his face cast in shadows. “That’s okay. I’m no hero.”
She slid her palm over his jaw, the slight stubble catching on her skin. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job.”