Inside Heat (9 page)

“I saved these for last,” she said as she wrapped a fist around each velvet-encased cock. The groans and identical strings of curses her actions coaxed from Jeff and Jason sent a bolt of desire through her. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to have them both at the same time – the idea was as frightening as it was arousing, but she was ready to feel them inside her in the traditional way.

 “You’re large – both of you.” Her comment earned another string of curses interlaced with a few promises she was all too eager to take them up on. She released them and received yet another creative exclamation from each of them. Ignoring their protests, she crossed to the neat stack of Jeff’s clothing and picked up the item she wanted.

Megan held up the necktie she’d taken from Jeff’s things. “Would one of you use this to blindfold me, please?”

“It’s my tie. I’ll do it,” Jeff said, reaching for the length of navy silk. Megan turned slightly so he had access to the back of her head.

“What’s the blindfold for?” Jason asked.

“It’s a test, sort of. For me. I want the two of you to make love to me – slowly. Don’t tell me what you’re going to do next, or who’s doing it. I want to see if I can tell you apart using my other senses.”

Jeff completed the knot and turned her. “How’s that? Not too tight?”

“No. It’s perfect. I can’t see a thing.”

“Now what?” Jason asked.

“Now, I need you to touch me – both of you. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Jeff signaled Jason to change places with him, then they began to peel Megan out of her clothes. He wasn’t sure why it mattered for her to tell them apart, but if she wanted them to test her, he was all for it. Like all twins, they’d done their share of trading places as kids. As adults, the challenge hadn’t seemed like much fun – until now.

She allowed them to remove her blouse and slacks so she stood there in nothing but two wickedly small scraps of black lace. Thankfully, he and Jason didn’t need spoken language to communicate. One glance at his brother and the two reached a silent agreement. Megan Long wasn’t going to know who was touching her, and if they did it right – she wouldn’t care.

Megan gasped as the brothers touched her. She’d expected them to get into the spirit of the game, softly touching, caressing her, allowing her to guess whose hand was where. Instead, they launched an all out assault on her senses. One minute she was shivering in anticipation of that first touch, and the next her brain was scrambling to make sense of all the incoming stimuli.

Hands and lips, and hard bodies were everywhere. One of them crushed her back to his front, slipping a long-fingered hand past the elastic band of her panties while the other pushed her bra up, freeing her breasts. Hands swept beneath her breasts, crushing them together a fraction of a second before he sucked one aching nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. Megan searched her memory bank trying to distinguish between her lovers. Which one was at her back? Which one had her breast in his mouth while the other stroked her folds? She tried to focus on their touch. If she could isolate the details, she would know which hand belonged to which brother. Was that a left hand, or a right? Jeff’s left hand was smoother than his right.

Before she could distinguish any difference, she was flat on her back and her panties and bra were gone, slipped from her faster than wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Hands stroked her most intimate places. Lips and tongues feasted. Legs twined with hers, twisting her this way and that as they manipulated her body like a tactile tornado. She’d never felt so much at once. Her brain lit up like a Las Vegas marquee as every nerve ending fired simultaneously.

She cried out as one of them buried his face between her legs, tonguing her clit, then dipping lower to taste her pussy. Cradled in strong arms, callused fingers stroked her cheek, while whispered words brushed across her ear.

“Shh, darling. You’re ours now,” he crooned. “Let yourself go, then we’ll show you how to fly.”

Megan whimpered as the warm mouth left her. The strong arms that had been holding her on one side slid away, replaced by a set on the other side. As if hearing in stereo, a rough voice whispered in her other ear. “Relax, sweetheart. You’re ready for us.” Then a solid male weight pressed her into the mattress and no sooner had she felt the pressure between her legs, than a cock slid inside her, hard and hot and big. She gasped as her body stretched to take him all in. Which one was it? Jeff or Jason? “God, that’s beautiful.” The words met her ear as a heated palm stroked her hip and along her splayed thigh. “A few strokes, then we’ll have all of you.”

She tried to wrap her mind around the cryptic remark, but couldn’t think for the exquisite sensation of the cock sliding out, then back in with such tender talent. Dear God, he felt wonderful. Her hips rose and fell with his, driving him deeper each time. The heavy male body on top of her felt like heaven, molding her breasts to his hard chest while his brother pressed close to her side.

Chapter Nine

“She’s fucking amazing.”

Megan thought the same thing about the man inside her, but couldn’t form a coherent word to say so.

“Let me see.”

They switched places in the span of a heartbeat, one rolling off her to lie on her opposite side while the other settled atop her and sank into her pussy with one strong thrust. Her heart stilled and behind the blindfold, she had a sudden insight. This was different. Sure, the size and shape was the same, but this brother was different. Her body knew this one. As he seated himself fully inside her he stilled – almost as if he felt it too. Megan had to remind herself to breath as a darkness that had nothing to do with the blindfold threatened to overtake her. She sucked oxygen into her lungs as he slid almost out of her and drove back in.

“Christ almighty!” The words seemed wrenched from his heart as he began to fuck her in earnest. She met him thrust for thrust as if her life depended on having him inside her. Maybe if he thrust hard enough, she could absorb him into her. This was how it felt to be one with another. This was what everyone made such a fuss about – that connection. The instant that you knew your life wouldn’t ever be the same without this person in it.

Suddenly, she knew who it was. Her fingers couldn’t tell the difference, but her heart could. This was Jeff. She tried his name on her lips. “Jeff.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” His lips covered hers in a kiss that spoke of possession, and she knew he felt the same thing she did. “Hold on, we’re going to make you ours.”

Then she was on her side. Jeff remained inside her, throbbing, moving slowly as he held her crushed to his chest. He claimed her mouth again as Jason pressed against her forbidden entrance. Her breath caught in her lungs at the imminent intrusion.

Jason’s arm snaked around her waist and his hips rocked against her ass.

“Relax, Megan. It’s going to be good.” Jeff’s words acted as a balm and she went limp in his arms. Taking advantage of her acquiescence, Jason breached her barrier. He groaned from behind her as Jeff crooned in her ear, “That’s it, sweetheart. Let us love you.”

After the initial pain of Jason’s entrance faded, she concentrated on the fullness and the incredible feeling of safety she felt cradled between these two men. Behind her, Jason set a slow rhythm that Jeff soon matched. Megan buried her face against Jeff’s chest and counted his heartbeats beneath her cheek. Slow and steady, just like the way they claimed her, one tandem stroke at a time. She felt boneless, dependent on their strength to support her.

She’d worried unnecessarily about taking both of them at the same time. They’d been right about the butt plug, and she was glad she’d worn it while they were away. But as great as Jason had felt inside her pussy, and now inside her ass, it was nothing compared to what she felt when Jeff entered her. How could they be so different? And how was it she could tell them apart when her brain couldn’t function well enough to tell a right hand from a left, much less register calluses or the lack thereof?

They kept up a litany of praise as they took her. She barely registered their words as her nerve endings sent frantic messages to her brain from every part of her body. As she lay like a limp doll between Jeff and Jason, their hands and lips made sure no part of her lacked for attention. It was like a drug, this overdose of pleasure. Could one die from too much pleasure? As her body coiled tightly around her center, she knew she was willing to die right here, right now, if only she could reach the pinnacle that was so close.

“Jesus, God, I can feel her. She’s almost there.” Jason.

“You’re safe with us. We’re going to fill your ass and your pussy, sweetheart. We’re going to give ourselves, just like you’ve given yourself.” Jeff. Sweet, Jeff. His words wrapped her heart in the golden gauze of love and tears slid over the bridge of her nose and dampened the silk tie. Then Jeff’s lips were on hers, and her whole body convulsed.

They held her in their male cocoon while contractions shuddered through her. She might have heard words of encouragement, she wasn’t sure – couldn’t comprehend anything but that she was dying in their arms, with these two tender men inside her body, and she couldn’t have been happier.

She drifted back to reality – minutes or hours later – she had no idea. Two walls of maleness supported her, and filled her.

“Are you okay?” Jeff again. Caring for her, loving her. She nodded her head, unable to form the words to tell him she’d never been better in her entire life.

“Hang onto me then. We’re going to finish making you ours.”

They pulled from her, then filled her again. Over and over. Hard, tandem thrusts, and then they turned to stone, crushing her between them, hips grinding uncontrollably against her, back and front. They poured their life into her, and her body responded, clamping rhythmically around their shafts, coaxing every heated drop from them.

Megan couldn’t stem the tears anymore than she could stem the love she felt for these two men. She’d never dreamed it could be this way, or that she could feel so much, so soon for not one, but two men.

Behind her, Jason loosened the knot on the tie and slipped it from her eyes. She blinked at the harsh light, suddenly self-conscious lying there with two cocks still inside her. Softer now, she noticed, but not limp.

“You could tell us apart.” Jeff said, a smile on his face and in his voice.

“Yes.”

“No one has ever been able to do that before,” Jason said.

Megan shrugged her shoulders as best she could surrounded by so much hard male muscle. “I didn’t have to think about it. I just knew. I can’t explain it.”

“I can,” Jeff said. “It means you were meant for us.”

Meant for you
, she thought, but said, “I think you might be right.” Now wasn’t the time to tell Jeff Holder she thought she was in love with him. It was an insane thought anyway. No one fell in love that fast.

* * * *

“Come to the game today.”

Megan wished she hadn’t listened to Jeff’s request as she sat among the players' wives. She’d managed to stall them for several months – though in truth she hadn’t had a day off that coincided with a home game since she’d succumbed to Jeff and Jason’s seduction. Now, everyone from the ticket-taker at the gate, to the brawny guard at the top of the seating section, to the wives seated around her, eyed her with undisguised curiosity. She tried not to squirm, but she’d never felt more like a specimen slide. At least her assigned seat was a little off to the side, rather than smack in the middle of the wives section. Nevertheless, the sidelong glances were getting to be too much. Why didn’t they just ask her who she was?

“Hi,” the perky blonde in the seat in front of her turned and flashed her perfect smile, perfect teeth, perfect boobs. “I’m Tiffany. I’m Chase Hamilton’s girlfriend. Who are you?”

Be careful what you ask for
.

“Megan Long.” She tried out her relaxed, "I belong here" smile. “I’m…uhm… Jeff and Jason Holder are friends.”

Heads turned. Heat bloomed on her cheeks and spread like a riot of blood-red roses over her face and neck. She wiggled her fingers at the stunned assemblage in what she hoped was a friendly, non-threatening greeting. A few returned the gesture after looking her over from head to toe, cataloguing her assets and more likely, her deficiencies to be picked apart as soon as the "club" could schedule an emergency meeting. “Nice to meet you,” she said with as much hauteur as she could muster.

The stadium announcer saved them from replying by calling the fans to their feet for the National Anthem. Megan breathed a sigh of relief as her review board directed their attention to the pre-game festivities. No one said another word to her for the next six and a half innings. When they stood again for the seventh inning stretch, Megan was gone.

She didn’t stop walking until she got to her car in the VIP parking lot. She cranked the engine, turned the air-conditioner to arctic blast, gripped the steering wheel to steady her trembling hands and dropped her head between them. Several minutes later, she took a deep, cleansing breath and straightened. So she wasn’t part of the wives and girlfriends club. Judging from the cold reception, either Jeff and Jason lent their tickets out to a parade of women – none worthy of the other women’s time, or her presence had simply stunned them into silence. Whichever it was, she wasn’t going to hang around and find out.

* * * *

“Where did you go?” Jason asked. “I looked for you in the eighth inning and you weren’t there.”

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I left during the seventh inning stretch,” she lied.

“You didn’t see my save?” Jeff sounded like a petulant little boy.

“No. Sorry.”

“There’ll be others.” Jeff twisted the cap off the beer he’d snagged as soon as he came in and tossed the cap in the under-counter wastebasket.

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to go to another game,” she hedged.

Two sets of blue eyes studied her.

“What’s going on? Didn’t you enjoy the game?” Jason asked.

“I did, but maybe I’ll just watch them on TV from now on.”

Jeff set his bottle on the granite counter with enough force Megan expected to see beer spewing from a certain fissure. “Tell us.”

Megan cursed herself for being such a lousy actress. All the way home, she’d practiced what she would say to them so she wouldn’t have to go back again and face the "club". The more she’d thought about their reaction to her presence, the more she was convinced she was the latest in a long line of women who’d occupied that particular seat, and sooner or later the quizzing would begin. She wasn’t up to that. What could she say? “Oh yes, I’m sleeping with both of them. Yes, it’s unorthodox, but I really do care for both men.”

“Look, I’m sure the wives club was a little surprised to see someone new in your seats today, but if I go back – ”

“When you go back,” Jason supplied.

Megan glared at him and he pressed his lips tight and signaled for her to continue.

“
If
I go back,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll find their tongues, and I don’t have a clue how I’d answer their questions.”

“First,” Jeff said, “no one besides our parents have used those tickets since we’ve been with the Mustangs, so any curiosity on their part was because you weren’t our mother, not because of any string of women we’ve invited to watch us play.”

“Second,” Jason continued, “if you don’t go back, they’ll have a lot more to talk about. Rumors will fly for sure, but if you’re seen in our seats enough, they’ll get the idea.”

“Maybe so, but they were about to pounce today. I had to get out of there before they started asking questions I didn’t know how to answer.”

“Like what?” Jeff asked.

“I told them we were friends, but what if they ask personal questions? What would I say?”

“Tell them the truth,” Jason said. “Tell them you work at the hospital, and we come to visit the kids there. Tell them we’re friends.”

“I did tell them we’re friends, but I could see they thought there was something more.”

Jeff circled the bar and covered her shoulders with his big hands. His lips on the sensitive spot behind her ear sent a shiver of desire through her. “Tell them whatever you want, Megan. Or tell them nothing.” His tongue flicked against her pulse. “We don’t care what you tell them. It’s up to you.” His teeth grazed across the same spot, followed by another swipe of his tongue that sent liquid heat straight to her core. “You taste so damned good. Tell them to go to hell, or tell them how good it feels to have both of us inside you at the same time.”

Jason’s hand slipped around her waist, tugging until the barstool swung around so she faced him. Her breath caught in her lungs as he worked the buttons loose on her blouse and dragged her bra cups down to expose her breasts. “Tell them twins are twice as much fun,” he said, right before he sucked her right nipple into his mouth and pinched her left one between his thumb and forefinger. Her legs fell open in primitive invitation.

Jeff’s hands skimmed beneath her open collar, pushing her bra straps off her shoulders, effectively trapping her arms at her sides. Long fingers slipped beneath her breasts. He kneaded each globe as his brother continued to suck one, then the other.

Megan let her head fall back against Jeff’s solid chest and forgot all about the "club". When Jeff and Jason touched her, she could hardly remember her name, much less anything as petty as a bunch of team wives with wagging tongues. Right now, the only wagging tongues she cared about were the ones driving her out of her mind with longing.

“Please,” she begged.

“I love it when she begs,” Jason said before he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her to the granite bar. Before she could protest, she was naked and lying on the cold slab with her feet draped over Jason’s shoulders. The soft wool of his suit jacket slid against her legs reminding her that only she was naked. A surge of wicked playfulness pulsed through her veins. She heard the refrigerator open and close, then Jeff stood over her, shaking a can of whipped cream.

“Here,” he said. “Let’s decorate the pie before we eat it.”

Megan arched her back off the counter as the first squiggly string of whipped cream turned her left nipple into a snow-capped mountain.