She wanted a drink so badly, had felt the craving for alcohol ever since she’d left Trevor’s house, but she didn’t have the money to buy anything except cheap beer. She’d bought a six-pack that first night, but it hadn’t lasted past morning. It wasn’t hard for her to admit she had a problem, but she’d never wanted to do anything about it, before now. Alcohol had always been her escape from the nightmare that was her life. The endless parties, the late nights at one bar after another, a circle of friends that wasn’t into anything other than chasing the next high, hopping from one guy’s bed to another’s. Her life hadn’t started out that way. She’d just sort of fallen into it. She’d gotten sucked down fast and hard, and hadn’t been able to claw her way back out of the pit.
All of that was behind her now. She was going to look at Grizzly Pines as her saving grace. If she was going to start over, she was going to do it right. No more alcohol, no more smoking pot at parties… no more parties for that matter. The rest of her family seemed quite content to live a relatively quiet life. Surely, she could do the same thing. Hell, maybe she’d even get a pet once she had her own place. She’d had a dog growing up, but she’d always wanted a cat. Her mom had been allergic so it had been out of the question. There wasn’t even a barn cat at the family ranch. One had shown up once and her dad had immediately taken it to the local shelter to find a new home. She’d prayed every night that it hadn’t been put to sleep.
Before she could take care of a pet, she needed to learn to take better care of herself. If she could make a go of her writing, or find a steady job in Grizzly Pines, rent a decent place, then she’d consider herself rehabilitated and well on her way to being a productive member of society. She had her work cut out for her. Even she could admit that she needed more than a little bit of polish to make her shine. Rough edges? More like tarnished. Heavily tarnished.
She began chewing on a fingernail as she paced her living room. She was on her fifth circuit of the room when the phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar but it was local, so she answered it.
“No one leaves me, bitch!”
Trevor! She should have known. He’d called several times over the past few weeks, the same conversation every time.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have treated me like shit.”
“You had it good. Anytime you wanted a fix, I provided for you. The fridge was always stocked with your favorite beer and I kept a fully stocked bar. You didn’t even have to work if you didn’t want to. Women would kill to have been in your position.”
“You hit me, Trevor. You beat the living hell out of me until I could barely move! I was black and blue all over. Since when is that taking care of me?”
He snorted. “So I lost my temper every now and then. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a lazy, stupid bitch, it never would have happened. You had one job, Gemma. Keep the damn house clean, and you couldn’t even do that.”
“No one could keep up with your twenty beer cans a day littering the house, dirty dishes left by your chair after every meal, and your clothes being dropped just wherever the hell you felt like taking them off. I was your girlfriend, not your damn slave.”
“You’re going to regret leaving me, Gemma. Don’t think I don’t know where you are. I’ve been watching you. I know all about that roach-infested tin can you’re staying in. We’ll be together again. Soon.”
He hung up and she disconnected the call with a shaky hand. There was no doubt he’d make good on his threat, if he could find her. Good thing she was leaving first thing in the morning! Beau was saving her in more ways than one. She’d never be able to repay him. She just hoped Trevor stayed away until then.
Gemma started pacing again and ended up pacing for so long that the sun was rising before she realized how much time had passed. The odd thing was that she wasn’t the least bit tired. If anything, she was excited to start this next phase of her life. It hadn’t taken her long to throw her scattered clothing into the garbage bag, only leaving out a change of clothes to start her new day, her new life. She took the quickest shower in history, and was just snapping her short-sleeved western shirt when there was a knock on the door. She didn’t think it was eight already, but maybe more time had passed than she’d thought.
Pulling open the door, she smiled at Beau. The rising sun told her he was early, but she was okay with that. There was a ball of energy just buzzing around inside of her, ready to burst free at any moment. If Beau hadn’t come when he had, she probably would have been sitting on the steps waiting for him, her bag and box beside her, feet tapping on the cement steps.
He glanced up at the towel wrapped around her head. “I think you forgot something.”
“You caught me getting out of the shower.”
He shivered. “Thanks, but the last thing I want to think about is you in the shower. Hurry up and brush your hair, or whatever it is you need to do. I’ll start getting your stuff together.”
His lips quirked on one side and he gazed at her with humor for a moment, then the look was gone and the Dom was back in control. Synclair tied the sash around her head so that very little light came through and she was completely blind. Now she would have no choice but to rely on her other senses.
She heard someone rummage in the box again, Ryan she figured. A moment later, something soft and light trailed across her right nipple, making her jump. The little bud seemed to like it though and hardened even more. Moisture pooled between her legs and tingles zinged from her nipple straight to her pussy. The soft item trailed across her nipple again, circling softly, then flicking harder.
Gemma bit back a moan as her womb and pussy clenched. She wanted to squirm, but knew she’d be reprimanded for such an offense. This wasn’t her first rodeo, after all.
“Ryan, why don’t you come over here,” Synclair said. “Stand behind our sweet Gemma and hold her pussy open for me.”
Oh lord! What was he planning now? Would she survive the torture?
She felt Ryan’s presence behind her, then his arms wrapped around her as he gently spread the lips of her pussy, exposing her completely to both men. God, she’d never been on fire like this before! Her whole body ached to be touched, caressed, and kissed.
The soft fluffy thing traced up the inside of one thigh and down the other. Tense, needing to come, and wanting to beg him to play with her pussy, she bit her lip again.
Synclair chuckled. “You know, brother, I do believe our delightful Gemma is trying not to cry out. Wouldn’t her mouth look exceptionally pretty with a ball-gag in it?”
Ryan groaned. “I don’t know who you’re torturing more, her or me.”
“You’ll get your reward soon enough,” Synclair promised.
Then it happened. When she least expected it, the soft, fluffy thing stroked her pussy, brushing against her aching clit. She bit back a moan, but couldn’t stop herself from thrusting her breasts forward. It stroked her again, lightly teasing, fanning the flames of her desire. She strained against the cuffs as her body tightened, needing release.
“Syn, don’t you think she deserves a reward?” Ryan asked.
The soft thing swirled against her clit again, making her thighs shake.
“Do you need a reward, little one? Does Gemma need to come?”
“I’ll let you come, but you don’t stop until I say so.”
What the…How was she supposed to do that? It wasn’t like she could control her orgasm. Really, she’d tried in the past and always failed.
There was a bit of rustling, and then something cool and firm teased her pussy, gliding up and down, but not quite slipping inside, where she wanted it most. There was a soft click and then she felt it vibrate. Her heart raced, knowing her orgasm was so close at hand, and she clenched her hands into fists, trying to retain some semblance of control over her body. But then, that was the whole point, wasn’t it? She wasn’t in control of her body. Synclair was.
She didn’t have time to brace herself. One moment he was teasing her, the next he thrust the toy inside of her, pressing another piece of it against her clit. Her back bowed, her mouth opened, and the loudest cry she’d ever heard spilled from her as she came long and hard. The toy was relentless, buzzing against her clit mercilessly, making the orgasm go on and on. She felt moisture slip from her pussy and pool under her ass on the chair, and still Synclair didn’t relent. She jerked and bucked under the onslaught, not certain whether she wanted to close her thighs or spread them wider. It was torture. It was ecstasy. It was the most intense experience of her sexual life.
There was a click and the vibration died down a notch. Tremors still racked her body, her pussy still throbbed, clenching and grasping at the toy inside of her. Slowly, her body relaxed, twitching every now and then as he kept her right on the edge of another orgasm.
“Ryan, why don’t you come around here,” Synclair said.
She felt Ryan move away and mourned the loss. She’d felt close to him, with his arms curving around her.
“Look to your right, Gemma.”
She faithfully turned her face in that direction. There was some whispering that she couldn’t quite catch, and then she heard a zipper slide down. Her pussy clenched again, this time in anticipation. Were they going to ditch the toy? Was one of them going to fuck her? God, she hoped so! She wanted them, so badly. Both of them!
“Open your mouth, Gemma,” Synclair commanded softly.
She did as he bade and felt the head of a cock brush against her lips. Reaching out with her tongue, she swirled it around the tip, licking up the pre-cum that was building there. If her nose didn’t deceive her, it was Ryan feeding his cock to her. He tasted sweet and salty at the same time and she readily accepted him, twirling her tongue around his shaft as he eased between her lips.
“You’re going to hold still, Gemma,” Synclair said. “If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”
Her nipples tightened to the point of pain, his words turning her on almost as much as his actions had so far.
“Ryan, fuck her mouth. Drive your cock into her until you come. Understand?”
“Yes.” Ryan growled.
Ryan fisted her hair in his hand and fed her more of his cock. He withdrew a little before plunging inside again, this time not stopping until he touched the back of her throat. She stroked him with her tongue during every thrust, wanting to push him over the edge. She was so focused on Ryan, she’d momentarily forgotten Synclair, until he swirled the toy over her clit, making her thighs clench as more moisture leaked out of her.