Their Private Need (Death Lords MC 3)

My fingers are slick from my arousal and the sounds that Easy had commanded me to make are filling the air, joining their grunts and my soft moans.

“Like what you see?” Easy asks. His face isn’t so peaceful now. The humor has fled and he’s harder now, more intense. The skin is drawn tight around his bones, making his prettiness look nearly as harsh as Michigan’s.

“Yes, so much.”

“Keeping watching. Keep touching yourself.”

Their gazes are as potent as a touch and I feel myself tightening, a string pulling everything inward. My toes curl, my fingers clench and my back arches off the bed. A half sobbing wail releases from my mouth at the first hot splash of their come. Michigan’s hand is working furiously as is Easy’s as they squeeze and pump. Milky white fluids streams everywhere, on my neck, my breasts, into the well of my belly button. Some of it is on my chin and even my cheek.

I don’t even know where it all goes, only that with each stream that falls onto my skin, I fall more deeply in love with them. My own orgasm explodes and my eyes close as I allow the sensations to engulf me.

Between my legs I feel the hard-muscled shoulders of one of them and then a hot mouth and tongue covers my fingers. The tension starts anew. I flick my eyes open to see Michigan’s dark head bobbing between my legs. Easy’s hand falls on my chest and he begins to rub all the come from their bodies into my skin.

Then he climbs onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of my shoulders.

“Open up, baby,” he commands. He thrusts his still hard cock in my mouth and I suck him hard, trying to swallow every drop of semen he produces. Cool air hits my sex as Michigan’s mouth leaves me but I have no time to mourn the loss because his hips are between my legs in no time.

Instinctively, I hook my ankles around his muscular butt and pull him closer. He spreads me with one hand, readying me, and with one thrust impales me on his shaft. Easy keeps thrusting in my mouth, his now thickening cock tickling the back of my throat. I open my mouth wider, relax my throat until he’s past the gag reflex and his wiry pubic curls are tickling my nose.

Now I’m full. Now I’m complete.

Michigan’s fingers bite into my hips as he jerks me against him. Deliberately, I contract my sex muscles and am rewarded instantly with a deeply satisfied male groan. His pace quickens and I hear the slap of his skin against mine as his thrusts become harder and wilder.

I give myself over to the moment and luxuriate in the decadence of having two men devoted to nothing but pleasuring me over and over and over again. Pleasure seizes me, swallows me whole and my whole body is engulfed in ecstasy.

They collapse next to me as I fade into unconsciousness once again.

Chapter Twelve

Easy

Annie’s stomach wakes her up midafternoon. Our bags are packed and Michigan has made a food run twice while she’s slept. I worry that she might be too sore for a ride back home on one of our bikes.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have taken her that last time.” My mouth is full of burrito but Michigan understands me. We’ve been together since we were eighteen and stupid new Marine recruits. Eleven years later and we’re still together, just not as stupid.

Instead we were growing jaded and unhappy. Michigan and I wanted an unconventional life—to share one woman. It’s easy—no pun intended—to get a chick to fuck us one night or even several. But to have a relationship with us? Shit, those women didn’t exist. At least that’s what Michigan thought. He’d given up on finding the one.

I’m not sure what he had planned on doing other than smoke himself into an early grave. Then Annie came along and Michigan’s eyes have some life to them and he hasn’t picked up a cancer stick since she put on those claiming cuffs. Fuck, I get hard every time I look at her wrists.

“You want to rent a cage?”

Driving a pickup or some other four-wheel vehicle is like riding in a cage when your preferred method of transportation is on the back of a low-riding, two-wheeled machine but I’d make that sacrifice if Annie needed it.

“Let’s see how it goes. If she’s shifting like an antsy kid on the back of the bike, then we’ll stop and do a rental before we get past the city limits.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Any further conversation is put on hold when Annie bolts upright in the bed. Her hair is bunched up into a messy nest. Probably from all the times I stuck my hands in it when I was fucking her mouth or her ass or her tight cunt. No doubt she’d look in the mirror and think it looks terrible, but I love it and a quick glance at Michigan’s admiring face tells me loves it too.

But I know better than to suggest she leave it like that.

“My goodness, why didn’t you wake me up?” She jumps out of bed and I lean back to watch the show as she roots around for clean clothes. Grabbing up a shopping bag, she runs to the bathroom, her pert, small breasts jiggling the whole way. Michigan releases a small chuckle when the door slams shut behind her. “I heard that,” she calls through the door.

“You’re looking gorgeous, sweetheart,” he yells and flashes me a quick grin.

Yup, Annie turned up right in time.

We hear a screech as her eyes must have met the mirror, taking in what both Michigan and I think is sexy as fuck but she clearly does not.

She wrenches open the door. “I hate you for not telling me I look like a nightmare.”

“Baby, if that’s what nightmares look like, I’m going to watch scary movies every night.” I stretch my arms across the back of the sofa appreciating that she hasn’t noticed she’s naked yet. Or maybe we’ve fucked enough that she’s getting comfortable around us.

She snorts and slams the door. Soon the sounds of the shower are running.

Michigan’s grin falls away and he turns to me with a serious expression. “How are we going to play this back home? We can’t keep making up a bunch of stories to cover her absence and I don’t want to go home every night and not have her in bed with us.”

I rub my chin. “I’ve been thinking about it. The best thing is to move her in with us but I’m not sure she’s ready for that.”

“Yeah, don’t fucking bring that up yet. I don’t want her running away.” He’s worried and the truth is I am too. We don’t know much about Annie other than she’s lived with her old man all her life. He’s a preacher and Annie was a virgin when she came to us so he’s probably been pretty strict with her.

“What about her mom? Has she said much to you about her?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Only that the mom left when Annie was young. Annie sounds real grateful whenever she talks about her old man—how he didn’t leave her too and allowed her to come back and live with him when she couldn’t get hired on anywhere else after high school.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

“What?”

“All of it. That she’s grateful her fucking father didn’t leave her. That she couldn’t get a job, even at a grocery store or something, and had to go back home?”

He’s quiet, thinking about i

t, and then frowns. “You think he had something to do with her not getting a job?”

“Annie’s smart and nice. I can’t see her getting turned down from an entry level job somewhere.”

“So her old man is a controlling bastard who probably drove his wife away and has made his daughter think that she should be grateful that he’s doing his parental duty.”

“About sums it up for me.”

The shower shuts off and I jerk my head at the bathroom door. Michigan nods. This is a conversation Annie doesn’t appear ready to have yet but we will need to talk to her about how we work out the dating thing.

“It should be you,” Michigan says.

“Why me? I haven’t fucking dated a chick since high school.” My courting techniques are pretty rusty. I haven’t met a father or had to sweet-talk him into letting me into his daughter’s bedroom since forever.

“Because you’re from Fortune. You’ve got three generations in that town and a shit ton more respectability than me.”

“We wear the same colors.” I point to our leather cuts hanging over the back of two chairs that proclaim us to be Death Lords enforcers. We aren’t just members in a motorcycle club; we’re officers, my generations of living in Fortune notwithstanding.

“You got to admit that her old man is going to think you’re a better catch than me.”

“I don’t got to admit shit. I’m a former Marine, so are you. I’m an enforcer with the club, so are you. I work at Mallory’s Manufacturing delivering shit and so do you. So don’t come at with me with the you’re more respectable than me bullshit.”

He sighs in frustration and runs his hands over his head. “Look, I don’t want to date her either. I just want—”

In our stupid fucking ignorance, we failed to notice that the door to the bathroom door had opened. Annie stood there, hurt all over her face, looking like she either wants to cry or punch us. Please, punch us. Tears from her would render me completely incapacitated.