Before Stella could immerse herself in her work, her phone rang. “You have visitors,” the woman at reception said. After ascertaining it wasn’t a reporter, she asked for the name. “Two agents from Wildcats, Inc.”
She forced normality into her voice. “They don’t exactly have the best timing, do they?” She sighed. “I’ll be down.”
“It’s okay,” the receptionist answered. “I’ll show them the way up.”
“Thanks.” No way would the snooty receptionist usually bother escorting visitors, but with the two hunky men waiting downstairs, Stella could guess why she’d changed her mind. Either the lawyers went and collected them, or someone else brought them.
Stella went to her coffee machine. She checked they had enough pods and somebody had stocked her mini fridge with fresh milk. She abhorred the little cartons. She’d rather take it black than subject herself to those.
When the door opened she turned around. The svelte receptionist, her blonde hair smoothed to her head as if painted on, stood back to allow the visitors to enter.
The air in the room was sucked out as if an airlock had gone into action. Her heart beating too fast to let her draw breath properly, Stella stared at the two men who came in.
He had the same effect on her as always. His eyes, that dark, liquid brown that seemed to drink in everything around him, took her in. Under that smooth, navy suit was a body packed with muscle. He could hold her down with one hand to stop her writhing away from the devastating pleasure he was wreaking on her.
Warmth seeped into her head. No, oh no. That particular sensation heralded a shape-shifter spreading his senses to pick up empathetic traces. Just like the animals were their other forms, shape-shifters had the ability that certain members of Congress called “creepy” and “invasive.” The telepathy and empathy they used was intensely arousing in the right circumstances.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said, forcing the words out. She needed the training of a lifetime to keep her real emotions banked down, to retain her expression of pleasant welcome. She’d practiced that look so often she could paste it on in her sleep, but she’d never found it as hard as she did now.
Big, blond Sam came forward first, an interested gleam in his blue eyes. He had an air of brutal grace, and his hand gripped hers with care, as if he was afraid he’d crush it. He wore a beautifully fitted suit of slate-blue, but she got the distinct impression that he’d feel better in jeans. Now that she had the leisure to study him, she could see the shadow of the soldier in the powerful form, and the grace of the man used to moving in high circles.
“Can I get you some coffee?” Her voice came out lower than she’d intended, but it would work. There seemed nothing else she could say. Was she sorry? She didn’t even want to think about that now.
This man enclosed her in comforting warmth. Stella felt she could sink into his arms, and let him hold her, even though he must have sharp edges somewhere. After all, he worked for Wildcats, Inc., and the people there weren’t known for their gentle natures. Security agencies didn’t get as successful as Wildcats, Inc. without kicking some ass, especially in Washington, D.C.
He was a giant. Whether he was gentle remained to be seen.
“It’s good to meet you properly,” Sam said.
Shit, he knew. He must know if he was Travis’s breed partner. The two men would spend their lives together, share the same bed and the same woman, breed children with her.
The thought brought a shot of pain. No, not her, but someone else.
“Thanks, I’d love a coffee,” Travis said.
She reached her hand out in an automatic gesture, and Travis touched it, brushed it briefly with his before he returned his hand to his side. Almost a non-touch, but enough to send a bolt of electric sensation through her.
Travis brought her alive. He always had. She’d worked for the last five years to get rid of that. It appeared she hadn’t succeeded. Turning away, she knew better than to let her expression slip. They’d be able to see the shadow in the glass. “Thank you. No fancy flavors, please, cream no sugar,” Sam said.
Travis didn’t tell her how he needed the drink, but he didn’t need to. Still, to provide coffee exactly as he liked it would be to betray to herself that she’d forgotten nothing. So she made his black, and placed the cup on her desk with a bowl of sugar.
He glanced at her, his expression sardonic, and nudged the sugar bowl away. “Thank you,” he said. The deep tones reverberated inside her, making a mockery of her resolutions to forget him and live her own life.
Sam’s first thrust took her by surprise. The interruption had delayed her orgasm, but he pushed her back to the place they’d been in.
“Don’t close your eyes.” Travis’s voice shook. He walked slowly around them, studying her from the side, and then came back to staring at them full-on. “Keep watching me. Know I’ll fuck you after Sam’s done. You only need one word, and that’s stop. Say that, and this ends. You understand?”
Dry-mouthed, she nodded.
Sam moved with more purpose. He thrust inside her, grabbed her hair and pulled her head back just as Travis’s head descended. He ground his mouth against hers, taking her mouth as thoroughly as Sam was taking her pussy. He licked deep, his kiss as distinctive and different as his breed partner’s. After caressing her tongue with his, he finished the kiss and withdrew slightly, his eyes burning into hers.
Travis dropped to his knees, watching her until he dropped his chin and looked at where she and Sam joined. “You have a magnificent pussy,” he said reverently. “I love that I can see it all, that you’re fully waxed. We’ll keep it that way.”
Then he touched her. He pressed one finger above her cleft, indenting the skin. It heated her, made her tense with apprehension. Travis made a sound of appreciation. His finger slid lower, into her wetness. “That feels so good. Your scent is like nobody else’s.” Lower, so he pressed a finger against her clit. “That’s it.”
A jolt of sensation startled her into climax. She came, shrieking, Sam’s hands on her arms to help her stay in place, Travis pushing her clit like it was a button that would set her off. She rocketed into space, wild cries emerging from her throat, her body a riot of response and sensation.
Her men kissed her, Sam concentrating on her neck and shoulders, Travis bearing down on her mouth. His finger slid lower, toward her opening. Then he grazed the spot, and skated past it, returning up. “Turn around,” he said.
“What?” Stella wasn’t sure what he meant until Sam carefully lifted her off him. He held her in mid-air, her cunt dripping wet, her nipples hard and straining, his hands on her waist. He set her on her feet, but Travis was there to take her. He kissed her gently, while her body was still vibrating with orgasm, turned her, and lifted her, draping her across Sam’s lap once more.
“Climb back on,” Sam said. Tucking a finger under her chin, he brought her to him, and kissed her, seducing her with his mouth while he brought his still-rigid cock to her pussy again. It was easier this time, now they faced one another.
Travis touched her waist, clasped it with his big hands. His shirt was open now, and when he moved closer, body heat radiated off him, searing into her. “Have you ever been fucked here?” He touched her ass, and circled the little hole.
“No. That is—I’ve played.” She’d let boyfriends touch her there, even sliding inside a little, but she’d never gone the whole way.
“Do you want to?” The sound of his voice, intimate and soft, took away any fear she might have had. They’d take care of her, these two men. They’d drive her to the edge of madness, but they wouldn’t drive her over it. “Listen to yourself,” Travis said. “I can hear you, feel you. You’re right. We would never hurt you.”
“We’ll protect you with our lives,” Sam chimed in. “That’s a promise.”
And not because they were bodyguards, either.
Travis slid his finger inside her. “Hot and tight. Perfect.” He moved, and groaned when Sam worked her with his cock, rotating it to reach every part of her cunt. “I want you,” Travis continued. “So much, baby. Relax into this. Bear back.”
She pushed on to him instead of concentrating on where Sam was gently fucking her. He moved sinuously, where he’d been violently jarring before, and she loved both ways. Travis made an encouraging sound, and eased another finger in. “I thought of getting you used to it, but I think we can do this now. Wait.”
He withdrew from her so fast he made her gasp, and went behind the kitchen counter, returning before she had time to look where he was going. He carried a bottle of greenish-yellow liquid. Olive oil. “The lube’s too far away,” he said.
The pungent scent of the oil filled the air. “Extra virgin.” Amusement filled his voice. “Is that what you are, baby?” He caught his breath. “Fuck, I can see so well from here. You look so good with Sam fucking you, moving like he was born to be there.”
“Maybe I was,” Sam rumbled. “It feels like that right now.”
Travis cupped her ass. His hand was full of olive oil, easing the slippery liquid, warm from his hand, into her. Pulling away, he started to work her again, sliding his talented fingers around and in, until she didn’t know how many digits he had inside her. Each pass eased her wider, preparing her for him, and sending her up into arousal all over again. “I won’t be able to walk after this,” she said, gasping.
“You won’t have to,” Travis murmured, his mouth against her shoulder. He bit down, sending a small shot of pain through her. At the same time, he rotated his fingers, as Sam thrust up, deep into her. She nearly lost it then. Sam caught her mouth with his, giving her a series of kisses, and working her. He lifted her so he could jab his cock into her rapidly, grazing her G-spot, making her howl. In a minute she’d be begging.