Page 22 of Swept Away (Men of War #1)

G EMMA

By the time I return, a quiet song drifts from the kitchen.

The two men chat at the table, and I avoid them altogether and walk into the bedroom.

The room is cold and smells like trees and grass.

I notice the open window and move in that direction, wrapped in a bathrobe, my hair a little damp from the shower.

Leaning over the windowsill, I inhale the crisp air.

It smells like adventure and freedom, and for a moment there, my mother comes to mind, and her taste for living her life like it matters.

I wonder if I’m anything like her.Before Mason and Carter, my life had been so predictable. School, work, no boys. No fun. I wanted to avoid drowning in debt, so I did everything I could to stay afloat and never get in trouble.

Now that they’re here, things get a little weird as they add a different perspective to what I consider my normal life.

A few weeks from now, I’d be back in school.

They’d probably be a naughty memory, and that would be that. I couldn’t even boast about the hot sex that we had, or how they lusted after me.

I’d simply be a woman who happened to stumble onto two hot men who didn’t mind sharing her and fuck her into exhaustion.

I wonder at what point all of this becomes more than just fun and a little more than experiencing sex of a different variety and increased intensity.

More than being adventurous in the woods or having sex in the clubs and on the street.

I wonder when we’ll say goodbye to each other, and what that day or moment will look like.

Will everything crumble?

Will there be hard feelings?

“Hey,” a voice echoes behind me, and startled, I hit the man’s chest when I step back.

Mason wraps his arm around me, a smell of aftershave snaking around me, too.

He smoothly unties my belt and leaves me naked in front of the window and the protective moonlight as he drops my bathrobe to the floor.

The slightest touch makes goosebumps rise on my skin.

I turn to him and meet his eyes.

He’s barefoot, with only his pants on.

He looks at me with hungry eyes like someone who’s starved for sex. Or me, perhaps?

“What’s happening?” he asks, bringing his hand to my face and slowly stroking my cheek, his expression softening.

He still looks like someone who chases a squirrel and knows better than making sudden moves.

“How long are we staying here?”

His eyes glint with a smile as he dips his gaze to my mouth.

“For as long as you wish. Until we’re all sick of having sex.”

I smile.

“Do you think that will ever happen?”

“No.”

“You mean now or ever?” I ask, and his expression becomes guarded.

He gives me a thoughtful look while pondering his answer.

“It’s too early to tell.”

“Hmm…” I murmur, tipping my eyes down.

“Will you be leaving again?” I ask, dragging my eyes up.

His eyes sparkle with hunger again.

“You mean Carter and I?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, we will.

“When?”

He shrugs.

“Sometime next week.”

My insides suddenly collapse.

My shoulders slump too.

“Is that a problem?” he asks, his question concealing a small trap.

“No. I mean, yes.”

He’s waiting for me to continue, his arm braced against the wall, his other hand touching my naked body gently, creating twisters of pleasure.

“What would you like from us, Gemma?”

“A little predictability.”

His eyes come to my face, his hand resting on my hip.

“What kind of predictability would you like?”

“I need to know when you’re coming and how long you’ll be gone. Stuff like that.”

“It’s hard to know all that.”

“Hmm…” I say, looking down again, disliking his answer.

He slides his finger under my chin and tilts my face up.

“We’re working when we’re away, Gemma,” he says sincerely. “It’s not that we’re pulling away from you to hurt your feelings.”

“I know,” I say stoically, although emotions gnaw at my chest. “I never thought it would be an issue.”

“We never thought it would be a problem, too,” he says, faintly smiling. “We’ve missed you all this time. We couldn’t wait to get back. And it wasn’t only about the fucking. We had a great time, yeah? We fucking did. But we missed being with you.”

“You were mad this evening?”

He laughs.

“You have no idea. I thought I’d burn this town down, and you’d learn about it from the news. And then you’d know better than not to answer your phone. I knew what you were doing. And I knew you were upset. I just hoped you wouldn’t make some motherfucker happy by fucking him out of vengeance.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

He strokes my cheek tenderly.

“You should never do that,” he says seriously yet still with gentleness. “We’re never too far away from you,” he adds with humor, and I press my finger into his chest.

“By the way, there is no young woman in the house across from me.”

“What?”

He looks at me, baffled, not knowing what I’m talking about.

Why does he keep forgetting about that?

“You said something about your long-lost stepsister when we met.”

“Oh, that.”

He smiles.

“You forgot?”

Running his fingers through his hair, he looks away.

“No, I didn’t forget.”

“Was that story even real?”

“Yes, it was,” he says curtly before taking my hand and pivoting. “Let’s get in bed. I want to fuck you.”

His voice moves through me at light speed, bringing me back to the moment.

To why we’re here.

He rolls the covers to the side and invites me to lie down.

I slide against the cold sheets and watch him take off his jeans and boxers.

He’s already unapologetically hard.

He’s always had this confidence about him that leaves me breathless. The way he moves and shifts from one conversation to another, from doing one thing to starting another.

He always seems to be in control, even when he isn’t.

He’s always waiting to get back in the driving seat, like now.

He lies next to me, his erection brushing my thigh, while he slides his hand between my knees and runs it up.

When he touches me between my legs, with his eyes steady on mine, I forget about the things we’ve talked about before, and all I want to see is where this is going.

Sex is his weapon of choice, and right now, I can’t wait for him to use it.

Playing with my pussy, he licks his way up my neck, and by the time he locks my mouth and slides his tongue between my lips, I’m wet against his hand.

“That’s my girl. Long pauses never do any good to anyone,” he says, sliding his fingers into me, the intrusion making more wetness trickle down, more heat spin in my core.

I roll my hips a little while kissing him again, and just as I get the hang of it, the mattress dips behind me, and a cold body slides next to me.

Carter’s erection is warm and twitches against my lower back, his hand sliding over my tits.

“I would’ve waited a little longer, princess, for you two to get warmed up. But I’ve been hard as wood since we left Boston.”

I break away from Mason and turn to Carter.

He locks my mouth, kneading my chest while Mason keeps moving his fingers into me.

My center clenches as they can’t wait to fill me up.

Mason’s hard cock presses against my entrance as he removes his fingers from between my thighs and slowly slides himself in.

A groan echoes in his chest, and Carter kisses me harder, his hand squeezing my boobs.

“I missed you, Gemma,” he says when taking a break from my mouth and flicking my nipples with his thumb.

My arms wind around his neck, and my lips burn against his mouth while Mason rocks his hips, giving me long, satisfying thrusts that make my core throb.

“Who comes first?” I ask.

“You are,” they say at the same time.

Mason’s hand slides into my hair while he rocks my body, and I close my eyes and moan against Carter’s chest.

He watches me with heavy eyes, thick pleasure in his stare, and brings his hand to my slit.

Slowly, he circles my clit while Mason fucks me from behind. My hand wraps around Carter’s cock, and his pulsing almost tips me over.

The tip is wet, and I move my fingers over the wetness, spreading it down his length.

“I want to taste it,” I say as Mason pushes harder into me.

“You heard the lady,” Mason says, and Carter pulls upright, props his back against the headboard, and wraps his fist around his cock.

“Easy,” he says, guiding my head while easing himself in, his eyes burning like embers.

The second I close my mouth around him, he pushes a moan out, leans his head against the wall, spreads his legs, and lets me have at it.

I lick his balls and wet his hard length, making it glisten.

I suck on him frantically, inching closer to my highest pleasure.

“I love this,” I say, speaking for all of us, I think.

“We do too,” Mason says in a husky voice, hardening his grip on me, his hand in my hair, his fingers coiled around my hip as he fucks me so hard that the bed bangs against the wall.

No one cares, as my head bobs, and Carter’s hard-on hits the back of my throat over and over again, his hand wrapped around my neck, almost snapping it in two.

It’s a miracle that I survive with their hands on me and their pleasure and their hunger spinning out of control.

My center throbs faster and faster, and I soon do everything I’ve been doing while waiting for the big fest of pleasure to begin.

As much as they said what they said, I rock my hips with Mason, who’s hard as steel and getting so close to coming himself. Carter makes me choke on his erection, nearing the point of coming too.

I fall first, then Mason, then Carter, who wants to pull away yet changes his mind and blasts his load into my mouth.

Moans and groans and the smell of sex permeate the air as we’re all high on everything that’s been missing from our lives this past week. All knowing that this is only the beginning. And twenty-four hours or forty-eight hours won’t be enough to feed the monster in us.

And then?

Who knows what comes next?

End of Book One

Thank you for reading Swept Away (Men of War Book One). The story continues with Brought Home (Men Of War Book Two).

As always, reviews/ratings are highly appreciated, as is spreading the word about my books.