Phoebe opened the door to her home.
“Stay here,” Lucas said, removing his fake beard and toga, tossing them to a chair. In only his jeans and T-shirt, he looked formidable, ready to take on any attacker. “I’m going to check your place out.”
“Why?” she asked, closing the door. “There’s no sign of a break-in. I had to use the key. Aren’t you being a little overprotective?”
“With you? I can’t help being cautious. You stay here,” he repeated in the commanding voice she remembered from long ago.
She shrugged. “Okay.” She took a seat in her plushiest chair.
Lucas brought out his gun. Like most Destonians, male and female, he was always armed. She peered into her purse at her own weapon, “Lady Equalizer.”
Lucas went through her house thoroughly. All three Wolfe brothers had been in the military. He had been in the Army, Mitchell in the Navy, and Jason in the Marines. She’d never asked the three why they’d chosen different branches to serve in. Didn’t have to. She had a good idea why. They were so different from one another. The Marines fit Jason to a tee. Rules. Regiment. He loved structure more than any man she’d ever known. Mitchell was drawn to the Navy for the adventure. Lucas, the middle of the three, was a blend of the other two in many ways. The Army had been good to him.
Lucas returned to the living room. “All clear, Phoebe. I checked each closet and under every bed. Nothing. I even made sure every window was locked. They are. The place is secure.”
“I really do appreciate this.” Her nerves began to settle down some. “So glad we have been able to remain friends.”
“You know we are more than friends and always have been. Always will be.”
She shook her head. “Lucas, let’s don’t go there.”
“Go where? It’s the truth.”
She needed to change the subject. “How about a glass of wine?”
“Oh yeah, you’re a dark beer drinker. I remember.” She smiled. “I just happen to have a six-pack of your favorite.” The truth was, she kept on hand his, Mitchell’s, and Jason’s preferred drinks. Funny, since they hadn’t been to her home since the breakup. Jason’s bottle of Jack was three years old, but whiskey never went bad. Lucas and Mitchell were both beer drinkers. Every six-months, she threw out the old six-packs and replaced them with new ones. It might’ve been a waste of money, but it was a practice she couldn’t bring herself to break. Now, Lucas was here.
He smiled. “I remember a lot of things, too, sweetheart. You bring your wine. And of course, beer is always great for me, but we are going to talk. We have the perfect opportunity, and I’m going to take advantage of it. Do you hear me?”
“It’s been over three years, Lucas. Haven’t we said all there is to say?”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “Just get the wine, Phoebe.” His cell buzzed, stopping him from saying more. “Hello.”
She headed into the kitchen to get their drinks, hoping to come up with something she could do or say to derail the conversation Lucas wanted to begin. She’d been avoiding the Wolfe brothers since the breakup. It was always hard on her heart whenever she couldn’t. For the past three years, she’d kept them at arm’s length. It was how she’d been able to survive.
She heard Lucas yelling at the person on the other end of the phone.
“Listen to me, motherfucker, you call her again and you’re a dead man.” Lucas’s rage was evident in every syllable. “I will find you. I will kill you.”
Her heart pounded hard in her chest, and she spilled the wine. The stalker? Shaking like a leaf, she left their two glasses and walked back into the living room. Lucas glared at his cell in his hand, staring bullets into its screen. It was clear the call had ended.
Oh no. It couldn’t be…“Lucas? Was that him?”
He turned to her, his face blood red. “Yes.”
“How did he get your number? Why did he call you?”
Lucas walked toward her, taking her hands in his. “I’m not sure how the son of a bitch has my number, but he called me because he knew I came to your house with you. That we were together. I don’t think we need to consider the bastard harmless anymore.”
Am I really in danger? She’d wondered about that possibility for some time, but every time she did she tried hard to think about something else. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”
Lucas looked her in the eyes. “Phoebe, like it or not, we will not leave you alone until this bastard is caught.”
“We?” Could he promise that?
“You know. The three of us—me, Mitchell, and Jason.”
She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do this. Besides, how do you know that your brothers would even agree to such a thing?”
“I know and so do you.” Lucas stepped closer, pulling her to his chest. “We have a huge barricade to knock down, but our feelings for you have never changed. And I don’t believe yours have changed either.” He brought his hands up to her face.
She felt heat well up inside her. God, it has been so long since he’s touched me…since I let him touch me.
“I’m right, aren’t I, baby?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but pressed his lips to hers.
Lucas kissed her neck, sending a shiver up and down her body. As he moved his hands to her sides, her skin heated up even more.
She felt his fingers latch onto the waist of her panties. Then he shoved them to her ankles. He stepped back and sent her the most possessive Dom smile she’d seen in years.
“Very good.” Then his smile turned into a frown. “You still shave your pussy. Why?”
She gulped, recognizing his tone of jealousy. “Sir, it was something I couldn’t give up even after our breakup. No one has touched me since,” she confessed, unable to hold back anything from him now that they were in play. Apparently, her submissive side remained under the surface all these years.
As he removed his belt, she gasped. He definitely was still one of her three Doms. The Wolfes would always be the Doms who owned her heart.
He wrapped her wrists together with the leather strap, and she felt her whole being settle into that familiar space she’d missed every second of every day and night—especially the nights—since their breakup.
“On your knees, sub,” he commanded.
She obeyed instantly, lowering her eyes as he and his brothers had taught her. This is where I belong. At his feet. At least for tonight.
“You are mine, Phoebe Blue. That’s never changed.”
She saw his T-shirt fall at her feet, which let her know he was taking off his clothes. She wanted to look up and drink in his sexy male beauty, but didn’t dare. Her Dom hadn’t given her permission yet.
He kicked off his cowboy boots. When his jeans landed to the side of her, the temptation to take a peek was too great. She slowly and cautiously lifted her gaze.
“Naughty sub,” he said with a smile.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, but didn’t lower her eyes. God, he is gorgeous, just like I remember. Lucas stood in front of her in only black boxers. Nothing has changed in that department. Even the Wolfe brothers’ choices of underwear gave a hint to their distinct personalities. Lucas wore boxers. Jason white briefs. Mitchell always went commando. She grinned, recalling so many other things she loved about the trio.
“Okay, stand up, baby.”
He put his hand on her shoulders. “I need to feel this body, every inch, every curve. I want to be inside you, stretching your pussy with my cock.” He grabbed her hands, still locked together by his leather belt, and brought them to his boxers. She could feel his hard, monstrous cock under the fabric. “You want to see it again, don’t you, sub?”
She nodded, feeling her lips quiver.
“Take off my underwear,” he ordered.
Though it was difficult with the belt on her wrists, she obeyed instantly. When he stepped out of his shorts, he pulled her in close, and she could feel every hot inch of his muscled frame, his erection pressing against her body.
He tilted her head up, capturing her lusty mouth with his, tracing her lips with his hot tongue. She could feel his masculine fingers massaging her breasts again, causing her nipples to become taut. The burn there swirled through her body, settling between her thighs, causing her clit to ache even more.
She was lost to him. He was right that she was his.
Heaven help me, I always have been his. Mitchell’s and Jason’s, too.
No matter how hard she tried to push them away, the Wolfe brothers inhabited every second of her thoughts. Breakup or not, she belonged to them.
Her heart beat faster and faster as Lucas deepened his kiss and moved one of his hands down her sides, sending his fingers between her legs to the inside of her thighs, teasing her into madness. So familiar…so right.
He released her lips and she saw an urgency in his eyes that was unfamiliar. He was on the edge of his control, and so was she.
Three years. God, I need this. I need him.
She shifted her hips to try to get his hand where she so desperately needed it—on her pussy.
He moved his hand a fraction of an inch from her clit.
“Please,” she begged, needing his touch, angling her body again.
He laughed, keeping his fingers just out of reach. “Who is in charge here?”
“You are, Sir.”
“Damn right, I am.” He threaded his hand through her soaked folds and then circled her clit, increasing the pressure that had been building since their first kiss tonight. “Tell me what you want, sub.”
“Please, Lucas. Please.” The words spilled out of her like a tsunami. Her emotions were set free now, brought on by his dominance. She’d kept them in check for years, but now that they were out and running, she could not hold back. “I want you inside me, Sir. I need to feel you again. It’s been so long.”
“You are so beautiful.” He removed the belt from her wrists. Gone were the slow tactics she’d remembered. “Damn right it’s been too long.” He was also in a rush, and she loved every lusty, hurried second. I need him.
He placed his hand under her arms, lifting her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He lowered her down onto his cock, keeping hold of her. She could feel the head of his cock hit her clit, igniting every nerve inside her. He thrust his dick into her pussy, deep into her, stretching and claiming every inch of her most intimate flesh, causing her to gasp.