“Fuck, Zane, if you want to go together, you better be fast.” Nate was struggling. His face was contorted in a familiar look of agony. Nate pumped into her mouth. “She feels so good. Our little woman knows how to suck a cock.”
Zane pulled his finger out, her little rosette clenching all the way. He lined his cock up to her pussy and plunged in. She was so tight he had to wiggle and fight his way in. Her pussy was slick, facilitating his penetration. She moaned and ground back against him. Nate was holding her head, fucking her mouth freely now. Zane knew he had one thought and one thought alone. He wanted to come. Zane wanted that, too, but he was the one responsible for Callie now, and he’d have to hold off. Her tight cunt pulsed around him. His eyesight dimmed, and his brain felt fried. God, he was never going to last.
“Finish off and help me, man.” He managed to get the words out as he tunneled further in. Almost there. He was almost all the way in. Callie’s ass tilted up, and he slid home, his heavy balls touching her skin, getting coated in the cream that was pouring off her. He held her hips, forcing her to be still. He wanted a moment to savor the feeling of being buried inside her. He wanted to take her without the stupid, idiotic rubber between them. He would fill her up with cum, and he wouldn’t let her wash it off for a while. They could sleep that way, stuck together, juices mingling. Fuck, he was going to blow.
“Oh, yeah,” Nate moaned and ruthlessly pounded into her mouth. His hips swung forward, head fell back, and Zane could hear Callie hurrying to drink down the semen. Zane’s hips started moving of their own volition, little thrusts back and forth. An appetizer.
Nate came out of Callie’s mouth with an audible pop. Free from her duties, Callie shoved herself back at Zane. His dick was impaled fully, and there was no stopping now.
“Finger her clit, please.” Zane was begging because his balls had drawn up. He couldn’t go until she had. How did she do this to him? He could fuck for hours, but she had him coming like a school boy.
Nate moved quickly. Zane could see his partner was already getting hard again. He moved to the side and slid his hand under to find her clit. Zane was pretty sure Nate was accurate because Callie’s pussy clamped down like a fucking vise, and she moaned. He felt her come all around his cock, and his leash was off. He hammered into her with no thought to her comfort, only the blinding need to mark her. She was his, and he didn’t mind that she would be sore in the morning. That was what it meant to be his woman. In exchange, he would follow her around like a really big lapdog. He was fine with that. Any dude who wanted to call him pussy whipped hadn’t fucked Callie. And never fucking would.
Zane gritted his teeth against the roar that came as his cock exploded. Semen streamed out of him, pulsing over and over. He ground into her until he didn’t have anything left and then pushed one more time, staving off the moment when he had to leave her.
He slumped forward, his body covering hers, pushing her into the fabric of the couch. When he looked down he could see the smile on her face.
“You okay, babe?” He’d ridden her hard.
“More, please.” Her breathy request made his cock jump again.
Zane could feel Nate on the couch with them. He should roar and shove the other man away, maybe beat the shit out of him. Why didn’t he feel that?
Because Nate loved Callie, too. Because Nate would protect her with his life.
Zane kissed her and reluctantly pulled out. “I bet I can arrange that, babe.”
Despite the earlier events, he felt lighthearted. He forced himself off the couch. Nate already had a condom in his hand and was rolling it on his dick as Zane was pulling his off. Nate turned Callie over and had her spread eagle and penetrated in a heartbeat.
“Oh, baby, you feel so good.” Nate thrust in and out. Callie wound her legs around his waist.
Zane watched them. Again, no hot need to grab a knife and kill the man fucking his woman. Instead, Zane knelt by Callie’s head and kissed her. She was the one. He had known that for six years. She was sweet and funny. She made him laugh, and somehow, when she was around, he was sure he would be okay. How did petite Callie make his big, dangerous ass feel safe? His tongue tangled with hers, and he knew he wouldn’t question it. He loved Callie Sheppard. He needed Nathan Wright. God, could they make it work?
It didn’t matter. Not tonight or for the foreseeable future. They were stuck together. Nate was groaning on top of Callie, and she was coming again. Zane saw her face flush, heard the sweet purr that came out of her throat. Zane let his face get buried in that mountain of hair on her head. He loved the scent. This would happen again and again while they were protecting her. Maybe, after awhile, it would be something none of them could live without.
Suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
Chapter Eight
Nate could smell it. It filled the air with a sickening acrid scent that clung to everything. It was a little like a barbecue, but there was a coppery tone to it. The scent was making him sick, and he didn’t need it. He needed to be steady. The heat from the August sun had baked the Texas border town to a crisp, and now that it was dark, the ground still held the sizzle. Sweat was dripping off his forehead.
Nate held the Glock tightly in his hands and looked at the men around him. He forced himself to stay calm and tried to remember every bit of his training. It was so fucking hard. He’d been Nate Rush, outlaw biker, for years. Becoming DEA Special Agent Nathan Wright again was hard. Nate Rush wanted to walk in, guns blazing and damn the torpedoes. Nate Wright knew what would happen if he did. Rushing in without a good plan would just get Zane killed in the crossfire. He needed to give the MET time to get into position around the warehouse. He’d already risked a lot to get to El Paso and organize the mobile enforcement team. He wasn’t going to screw it up now. The guards who surrounded the warehouse were dead or hog-tied in the back of the MET unit’s van. There were only the core members of the Barbarians to deal with, but they wouldn’t go down easy. He had to think of this in terms of his job—get in, arrest the bad guys, collect the evidence, get out alive.
But that professional thought didn’t do anything to calm the churning in his gut. Zane was in there and had been for hours. When Nate had left, Zane had been tied to a chair while the gang took turns using him as a punching bag. Why wasn’t Zane screaming? At least he’d been spitting bile and vitriol when Nate had managed to slip away hours before. He felt like he hadn’t breathed in hours and hours, not since that moment when he realized Zane’s cover was blown.
The leader of the MET made a chopping motion with his hand. It was the go signal. Nate kicked the door in and entered hell. He heard gunfire and finally realized what that smell had been. Zane.
“Sweetie, you need to wake up now.”
Callie’s voice and the soft touch of her hand pulled him out of the nightmare. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes. Mountain air. Pine. Bliss. He tentatively opened his eyes, and Callie smiled down at him.
“You were having a bad dream,” she explained needlessly.
He shook slightly, trying to rid his head of the images. Zane on that fucking slab, pieces of his body still sizzling from where those assholes branded him. He’d been so still. Nate had thought he was dead.
“Asshole, your pansy ass bad dream sent my butt to the floor.”
Nate sat up. Sure enough, Zane was sprawled on the floor on the other side of the bed. Callie sat beside Nate, knees pulled to her chest. She was all soft skin and a hint of a smile. Zane, on the other hand, was all pissed off man. And he was alive. Nate could even look at the scars this morning without feeling so guilty he had to turn away.
“Sorry.” Nate managed not to laugh. Zane was tangled in a very feminine quilt. It had come with the cabin. Maybe it was time to think about replacing some of the items that didn’t go with their personalities, like the rose and bunny covered quilt.
Zane stood up, tossing the quilt at Nate’s face. He scratched his belly and stretched. “I’m taking a shower, and then I’ll start breakfast. Then I’m going to find a freaking bigger bed. My legs hang off this one, and Callie elbowed me all night long.”
Callie grinned. “Well, you two took up all the space. I had to sleep on top of Nate.”
A bigger bed was definitely in order. Zane brushed his lips across Callie’s and walked out toward the bathroom. The single bathroom. This cabin wasn’t big enough for the two of them, much less for three. Damn it. He couldn’t afford more. He couldn’t even afford a separate living room. It was squeezed in with the kitchen and dining room. At one point in time, he could have offered Callie a mansion.
“What is that look about?” Callie was regarding him with a worried look on her face.
What was he supposed to say? Well, baby, I was thinking about the fact that I can’t support you. I was thinking how sad it was that you slept with a man who can’t buy you a Valentine’s Day present, much less the ring you deserve.
Her hand came out to cup his face. “It’s okay, Nate. I promise I won’t give you hell at work.” There was a sad smile on her lips and a dullness to her eyes that hit Nate straight in the heart.
“What do you mean?”
She pulled her hand back and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her head darted around as though looking for her clothes. “I mean I’m not going to be some clinging vine, Sheriff. I’m a big girl. This was a fun fling.”
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