Page 37 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Alaina

The door to Luc’s hotel room closes behind us with a final, decisive snap.

Mason leans back against the doorframe, eyes closed, exhaling like the weight of the day’s bullshit finally caught up with him, but he just realized it’s only morning. “I’m so done with this circuit shit.”

“But we’re not done with the racing shit,” Luc replies, crouching down at Toulouse’s cage. “And you can’t have one without the other.”

The little guy is curled up in his hammock, sleeping like a baby, but it doesn’t distract me from my buzzing curiosity.

“What’s the present?” I ask.

Luc straightens and raises a brow at me. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, huh, Petite ?”

I glare, but he laughs and nods toward a cardboard box next to his suitcase. “It’s in there. Wait, let me?—”

But Mason is already there, lifting the lid, and he hesitates only a second before he pulls out something bright pink.

My jaw drops .

“You bought her a bloody dildo ?”

Luc grabs the hot pink dildo from Mason’s hands. “That’s not for her , ” he says, shoving it back in the box.

Mason cocks an eyebrow. “It’s for you?”

“Yes,” Luc mutters, a pink sheen on his cheeks. “I didn’t buy it to use it with you , so don’t get all excited.”

Mason snorts, but my heart jumps as I look between them.

Fuck. The thought of them.

Focus, Crews.

“So, no dildo for me. What is it then?”

Luc pulls something else from the box. Also silicone, but more realistic in shape and color, and still a freaking penis . He hands it to me, and for some reason, I take it.

“What…” I squeeze the cock on instinct but then force my hand to stop. “What is this, Luc?”

“That, ma Petite , is your new cock. A pecker.”

My hand squeezes again, making the dick twitch. “A what?”

“A pecker.” Luc is clearly enjoying himself. “Pierre.”

I blink. “Who?”

“Pierre,” he repeats, deadpan. “Your co-captain. Your undercover accomplice. The little rogue riding shotgun in your bike pants.”

I snort so hard it hurts. “You did not name a piece of silicone Pierre.”

What kind of fever dream is this?

Luc’s grin goes wide. “He insisted. Whispered it to me when I unpacked him. He’s got presence.”

“Pierre,” Mason mutters from beside me. “He looks more like a Bruce or a Chad.”

Luc gasps. “Bruce has never known foreplay, and Chad thinks body spray counts as cologne. But Pierre’s got swagger . He has been places. ”

“Pierre has trauma,” I mutter, staring at the floppy shaft.

“Exactly.” Luc winks at me. “And yet, he rises .”

I whip the dick at his face, but he catches it effortlessly, kisses the tip, and tosses it onto the bed.

“Don’t you want to thank me? Now you don’t have to stuff socks down your boxers anymore. And, honestly? That shit drives me too fucking crazy.”

Mason’s eyes widen as he looks at me and then my crotch. “You’ve got a sock in your boxers?”

“Yeah,” Luc answers for me with zero shame. “Hot as fuck, right?”

Mason steps toward me, and his voice drops a register as he asks, “You’re wearing it right now?”

I nod, caught in his trance, cheeks heating.

He tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “Show me.”

His command is so strong that I slide my hand into the front of my shorts. They both hiss at the same time, and I pull out the balled-up socks and hold them up like a guilty confession.

“I have no idea why either of you thinks this is hot,” I mutter.

“I don’t know.” Luc grins. “Maybe the fact that when you’re walking around, those socks are rubbing up and down your slit, teasing your clit?—”

I slap the sock over his mouth. “ Stop it right the fuck now.”

Mason chokes on a laugh, then rakes his hand through his hair.

Luc inhales deeply, then bites my finger. I jump, dropping my hand. “Why? Because of Mason? Oh, ma Petite , you two are trying so hard not to be honest with yourselves, but everyone else sees it. Or at least I do. He’s just as hard right now as I am. ”

He tugs the socks from my hand and throws them at Mason, who catches them with a glare. “Can you fucking stop pressuring her into doing anything with me?”

“I’m not pressuring anyone. I’m just saying what’s already true.” Luc’s eyes find mine again. “You want him, don’t you? Just as much as you want Greer and me.”

I swallow hard, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. I close my eyes and take a breath, then another. Luc cups my cheek, his lips brushing my ear.

“It’s okay if you want him,” he murmurs. “I want him, too, and I want you to want each other. I want us, you, me, and Mase , together. Not just in bed, but hell, the thought of us in bed, tous ensemble , does it not make you wet?”

He cups me through my shorts, and I gasp as my hips jerk, making him chuckle.

“Be a good girl,” Luc whispers. “Tell Mason how much you want him. Be honest with yourself, and with us, and maybe there’ll be a reward if you do.”

He turns me so my back is against his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me close. Mason is right in front of me, eyes flicking between mine.

He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger with a softness that contrasts the tension zipping between us. “That so?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly, just like Luc asked. “ I want you , Mason.”

“Fuck.” His throat works around a swallow. “And I want you more. ”

My eyes flutter closed as Mason’s lips ghost over mine, giving me one last breath of space to pull away, but I don’t. I lean in.

My hand slides up his chest and fists his shirt, pulling him closer to me.

That’s all it takes .

His restraint snaps with a groan. Gripping my hips, he pulls me into him harder, and his lips move against mine like he’s memorized every curve of my mouth already. His teeth catch my bottom lip, tugging just enough to make me gasp before he sucks it between his own.

It’s not just hot. It’s intimate, familiar. As if through every glance that lasted a second too long, we both knew we’d eventually end up here.

Luc hums behind me, clearly enjoying himself, but he doesn’t interrupt. Not until Mason breaks the kiss with one last flick of his tongue, then pulls back to look at me, eyes darker and breath ragged.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers. “You taste like trouble.”

I grin, chest tingling like crazy, while Luc rests his chin on my shoulder. “She’s the best kind of trouble.”

Mason lowers himself on the edge of the bed, and Luc guides me to sit between them, the mattress dipping beneath our combined weight.

Mason’s hand comes to rest on my right thigh, and when Luc’s touches down on the other side, the heat inside me doubles. The weight of their palms makes me hyperaware that I’m between the two best, the hottest pro athletes in this sport, and I can have them both.

Fuck.

I’m in way over my head here.

Luc’s breath is warm as he brushes his lips against the side of my neck, and I tilt my head without thinking, offering him more. My gaze catches Mason’s just as Luc’s mouth presses against my throat.

The hunger in his eyes is enough to light me up from the inside again, and then Luc’s teeth sink into the curve of my neck, hard enough to make my toes curl. Mason surges forward and catches my gasp with his mouth, claiming my lips in another searing kiss .

“ Merde, ” Luc curses softly against my skin.

Mason pulls back and takes in every detail of what must be a dazed expression. Luc grips my chin, tilts my face toward him, and takes his turn, his kiss just as deep, just as claiming.

My body arches between them, but everything is tight under my binder.

My nipples, my breaths, but it’s secondary to the need that pools low and hot, making me shiver.

Mason’s fingertips slide under the hem of my shorts, while Luc continues to kiss me breathless.

Then Mason’s lips find the other side of my neck, and he licks up the tendon there, making me break the kiss to gasp for air.

Luc chuckles, nipping at my jaw. “Oh, you like that, huh? Having us both?”

“Yes.” I let my head fall back, surrendering.

“Yeah?” Luc tugs at my shirt. “Prove it then, hmm?” I raise my arms, and he pulls my shirt over my head. When his gaze drops to my chest, his expression twists in irritation. “I fucking hate that thing,” he mutters, tugging lightly at the edge of my binder. “It needs to go.”

“How about you ask her if she wants to take it off for us?” Mason grabs my jaw and makes me look at him. “Can we?”

My throat works as I nod. “Yes.”

Luc’s lips graze my nape while his fingers find the small clasps at my ribs on one side. Mason mirrors him on the other, his knuckles brushing my skin as they work in tandem. One clasp. Two. Three.

Each one unhooks with a soft snap , and my chest rises and falls faster, harder. The binder loosens around me, and when Mason does the final one, undoing his work from earlier, I let out a shaky breath.

He pulls the fabric over my head, then kisses the corner of my mouth like a thank-you .

“There’s our girl.” Luc breathes against me, cupping my breasts. “Isn’t it crazy how she manages to hide them?”

Mason licks his lips as he zeroes in on my tits, watching Luc play with them. “They should never be hidden.”

Luc hums his agreement, then takes one of my nipples into his mouth. The warmth of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth feel too good , and I arch into him, feeding him more as I moan. He grins against my skin, sucking harder, making my hips buck.

“Don’t you want to help me here, Pretty Boy?” Luc teases Mason, running his fingers over my nipples. “Our girl has two perfect tits.”

Mason’s gaze flicks to me, and I nod, reaching up to cradle his cheek, guiding him to me.

We kiss again, slower this time, then he takes over the kiss, setting the pace.

It’s everything —hot and hungry—while Luc keeps working my nipples, and my body feels like it’s being pulled in two delicious directions.

I break the kiss, panting against his mouth. “Please touch me, kiss me, lick me. Do whatever you want with me.”