Flames twisted and burned as Van Johansen watched her with his heart in his throat. He wasn’t able to stop them as they curled along her arms, disappearing when she put them out, only to start up again. Her bravery stunned him as it always had.
Layla Kalani cried out, twirling as though she could avoid flames, but it wasn’t mean to be as she spun to avoid the heat. The night came alive as if in support of their power. In the dark she lit up like a beacon, the stench of gas strong in the air. People watched, fascinated as they gathered in a circle around her.
“Burn, baby, burn,” one young man shouted, his eyes reflecting the bright orange flames as they narrowly missed her chest and belly.
She showed no fear as they flew around her in a macabre dance. Her brother, Kona, watched for a moment without trying to stop the madness. Soon he joined in, yelling in Hawaiian to add to the fear and fury of the dance. Kona was soon consumed as well, fire flashing all around him, bright and alive.
Van wanted to step forward and stop them from touching her skin. She was beautiful and delicate, too small to fight the battle alone. Where was the extinguisher? He looked around but didn’t see one, terrified she would burn to death, yet all who viewed their fight laughed and showed their awe of the danger.
He couldn’t watch, but he kept his eyes on her anyway, unable to look away. It happened like that each time she danced with fire. Her sleek body moved with confidence as she swayed to the beat of the drums. There was no fear in her cinnamon-brown eyes. Her eyes held him mesmerized as he focused on every move she made. Out the flames went then reignited when she took the torch out of her mouth.
Kona took a swig of gasoline in his mouth then spit it out, laughing when the flames flew in a straight line toward the guests who screamed, spellbound with awe. The ocean washed waves along the shore, unable to touch the couple only a few feet away. Around the campfire pit at least fifty people cried out when she threw one baton up into the air, her body spinning in circles as she avoided their hot bite.
Once again, she captured the stick, only to throw it away and start the process all over again. Up into the darkness it flew, only to come down again to be captured by her delicate hand. Van wanted to yell and beat the flames out, but he stood there, helpless to stop the inevitable. It was always the same when she was near the fire. Though he never spoke to her, he kept vigil, unable to look away. She was stunning, fearless, and conquered the burning devil as her blue-black hair shone bright in the light of the fire.
When she finally put the flame out, she stepped back and blended into the pale light reflecting on Kona’s body as he danced. When she came back into the light it was without the batons, but she carried two arm’s length chains. At one end of them, small trays rested. Kona relit the flames with his baton and stepped back, shouting out words of support.
This time she spun one to the left in an arc, and the other to the right. Around and around they spun in front of her, making perfect circles of fire.
There was no give in the way she contained the lights, respect for them burning bright in her eyes, which were alight with sparks of orange and yellow. Again and again she cried out, shouting in Hawaiian as the onlookers clapped to the beat of the drums.
No amount of fear could stop the flames as he glued his eyes to her slim body, the leather bikini no protection against them.
Van could barely breathe as he watched, his heart thumping fast as he wondered when she would stop and put out the fire. He wanted to scream at her, pull her under the security of his arms and save her from burning alive, but she kept going. It had always been like that for him, in all the years he’d known her. Even as a teen, she’d played with fire. His fear for her built up every year.
“Come on, baby, you can light my fire any day,” the man shouted once again.
Wanting to grab him and beat him for his careless revelry at her expense, Van held back, his anger stirring as bright as the flames.
Finally, she put out her fire and stood beside her brother, smiling wide, her pearly teeth bright in the firelight as she sported a smile of conquest. She’d done it again. He couldn’t still his heart as it beat a quick tattoo in his chest. Unable to view another moment of her success, he turned and left the crowd. Now that it was over, he felt he could breathe again.
Logan leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, a sweet kiss of promise. When he deepened it, she responded without reservation. Soft and tender, his mouth commanded hers, stirring up the butterflies deep down in her core. She stopped, smiling at him as she studied his face.
“You both are great kissers, but I think we should have a contest to see who can make me swoon,” Layla teased, laughing at the surprised look in Logan’s eyes.
“A contest? I’d win hands down.”
“Logan, you’re full of it. I would.” Van’s grin was infectious.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“Layla, you have no idea what you’re asking of us,” Van commented, leaning in close to capture her lips and prove his expertise.
When he stopped, watching her eyes, Van waited for her decision. Logan took over right away, keeping her breathless as he sucked on her lower lip and tugged at it gently with his sharp teeth. She didn’t have a moment’s break as Van began kissing her neck, while Logan lifted her top and captured her breast, nibbling and licking her skin all the way down to her navel. Her finger nails dug into their shoulders as she rode the waves of pleasure.
Quickly they stripped her shirt and shorts off. She moaned, shifting her hips as she thought about having them both inside her. Van and Logan followed suit and undressed as fast as they could, returning to continue their onslaught of passion.
Panting, Layla sucked in a deep breath and murmured, “It’s a tie, but keep going.”
Both men chuckled, continuing their sweet assault. It turned out to be an endless thing as they worshiped her body. Moaning, she showed her approval, threading her fingers through their short hair.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, aching to be filled.
“Your wish is our command,” Van said, sliding his fingers along her body until he found her pussy, inserting one finger into her channel. Hips rising off the bed, Layla responded without question.
“That feels so good. Give me more,” she begged, her pelvis clenching with passion.
Van snickered. “You are an impatient one. Here, I’ll lie on my back. Straddle me, honey, and I’ll take you for a ride.”
“I’m here, too,” Logan admonished, a wide grin on his face, ready to do his part. “We only want to give you pleasure, my sweet. Let yourself go.”
Eyes closed, Layla did as Van asked, and climbed on top of him, the length of his hard cock pressing against her entrance. She had to keep her hands on his chest to prevent falling off, such was her excitement. Without waiting for further instructions, she impaled herself on him, his wild growl turning her on like no other. She clenched her womb, a riot of sensations rolling through it. Breathless, she began to move up and down, her body welcoming his invasion.
“Van!” she cried out, shifting her hips as she welcomed his hard cock. “That feels so good¾what can we do about your competition?” Her low, husky laughter caused him to twitch within, making her gasp.
Fisting his cock, Logan watched them with speculation as he stroked it.
Slow and easy, Van moved within her channel, hissing as her tight muscles clamped down on him. When he glanced over at Logan, he nodded.
“You’re the one with experience in a ménage. Where do you want to go from here?”
A wicked grin spread on his face as he sat up.
“Well, first of all, we can both be inside her. Are you willing to try it, Layla?”
Shocked, she nodded. “I would like to try. Will it hurt?”
“It will be pure pleasure, I promise. At anytime, if you feel uncomfortable, we’ll stop…I hope.” He winked at her then moved around behind her. “There’s some lubricant in the drawer,” Logan said, his tone bordering on a whisper.
The expression on Van's face was strained as she paused to let Logan move in. Once he’d put the gel on his cock, he began kissing her back, following a trail down to her midsection, his hands holding her hips steady as he placed the head of his cock at her entrance. Van groaned as he held his place without moving.
“I’ll go slowly, my sweet. Lean forward and rest your arms on Van’s chest.”
She did as he bid and waited, tensing up as he eased forward, careful not to harm her. His cock swelled and thickened as it slid alongside Van’s. She moaned deeply, her neck arching as pleasure raced through her veins.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“No! Please, continue. It feels tight, but good¾so good.” Her hair cascaded across Van’s body, a silky curtain of black.
Van slipped his fingers through it, and moaned. “You are incredible.”
Heat suffused her face and body at his words. She gasped as Logan slid deeper within her.
“You’re doing great, Layla. Relax, and let me do the work. Just a little more and we’ll be home.”
“Logan, keep going. I want you to go faster.”
Van chuckled. “You’re a greedy lover. I like that about you. Let’s take our time. I promise you that the pleasure will be worth it.”
Finally, Logan was in to the hilt, breathing heavily and tense against her back. He slipped an arm around her waist, groaning, as did Van. Waiting until she stretched, taking both of them, Logan began to move slowly, while Van grasped her hips to hold her steady, pulling her close to his chest.
“This is amazing,” she cried, panting as both men shifted inside her. Breathing them in, Layla leaned into Logan and placed her head upon his shoulder while he shifted his hips forward and back slower than she wanted.
“All right, sweet one. Hold onto your hat!”