Page 26 of Wrangled Up (Menage a Trouble #2)

Christian continued to suck Tucker’s long shaft, drawing on it gently. Flicking it with his tongue. He slipped his tongue down the underside, over the spot he’d seen his friend apply pressure to with his fingers.

Tucker bucked. Opening his eyes, Christian caught Tucker’s expression of rapture—something he’d craved these past weeks. The eroticism of having caused that look singlehandedly threatened Christian’s sanity.

He moaned around Tucker’s cock.

“Hell,” he said in response then pulled free of Christian’s mouth.

Claire’s heated gaze met Christian’s. He placed a soft bite on Tucker’s thigh before shifting to position himself at Claire’s center. “ Your turn,” he rasped and dove into her beckoning heat.

As he stroked her soaking folds with his tongue, Tucker cradled the back of his head, guiding him over her. Pressing him more firmly. Claire cried out, her pussy quivering under his mouth.

“Make her wetter than she’s ever been,” Tucker urged. He skipped his finger down the rim of Christian’s ear. “Get her primed so you can fuck her.”

And where will you be while I fuck her? Christian drowned in visions. He cupped Claire’s ass and drew her up to feast on her pussy. She tasted sweeter than ever, as if her body had tapped some hidden store and emulated the passion and love in her heart for both of them.

He swirled his tongue over her taut bud. She shattered. Tucker’s hand left Christian’s nape, and he glanced up to see their lover twisting Claire’s nipples.

Her orgasm vibrated through Christian’s lips and tongue, deep into his soul. Yes, this was right. The three of them all together. So right. Long overdue .

The throb in Christian’s cock grew unbearable. He delivered one last, wide-tongued lick to her pussy. Tucker pressed a condom into his hand and he rolled it on, holding Claire’s heated gaze.

“Get between those round thighs and slide home,” Tucker ordered.

Christian’s heart sped up, tripping over itself, as wobbly as a newborn foal.

There were no words for the emotion boiling in his heart, and the only thing to do was express it with his body.

For months—a year—he’d longed to do just that with Tucker.

And Claire had finally admitted to allowing Christian past a door in her heart.

He hovered over Claire and dropped a tender kiss to her sweet mouth. She opened to him, eager and salty-sweet. Fresh herbs danced on her tongue, reminding him that they’d been making sauce earlier, never dreaming that Tucker would choose that moment to come home.

Tucker drew up behind Christian, the head of his cock stretched with a condom and probing his ass. He placed his mouth at Christian’s ear. “Sink into her. Then be glad you’ve got some muscle, because I won’t be goin’ gentle.”

Claire’s eyes dilated. Concentrating on the rise and fall of her chest and Tucker’s harsh breathing in his ear, Christian eased into her tight channel. Her body gripped and released him, still sensitive and pulsating from her recent release.

When he was rooted balls deep, Tucker wrapped a strong arm around Christian’s middle. A cool smear of lubrication from behind made his cock twitch with eagerness.

Tucker skimmed his chest and abs with a palm. “Relax. I’ll go slow at first.”

Christian made himself loosen as much as possible, but every nerve in his body was twanging like a steel guitar.

Then in one short jerk of his hips, Tucker pressed on the ring of Christian’s anus, parting him to the thick head. He hissed as Tucker pressed more insistently, burrowing his way into his body as he’d long ago done to his heart.

The pleasure pain of the new link stole Christian’s control. He dropped his head forward and huffed raggedly. Claire squeezed him with her walls. When he met her gaze, she wore a soft expression that completed him.

Tucker eased his head inside inch by inch, somehow twisting it. The burn of being stretched echoed that of his heart. Two people, filling him up so damn much. He’d never be the same and didn’t want to be.

“Move.” Tucker’s warm whisper drifted past Christian’s ear.

Christian slowly slid his cock within Claire’s damp heat. A long groan was pulled from her, dragged into him and fed to Tucker as the three of them gained pleasure from one slight movement.

Tucker pressed his mouth against Christian’s neck. “Okay?”

Jesus God, yeah. He didn’t know if he was about to rut like a bull, sandwiched between the woman and man he loved or if just being still would bring him more pleasure.

Claire gripped his hips at the same time Tucker tightened his arm. A wave of ecstasy threatened to make Christian black out. He swayed between them. Rocking forward into Claire. Back into Tucker. They let him set the pace, and within seconds, he was out of control .

The bed creaked under their assault. If Aunt Letty woke up, she would hear the strains of their ménage a symphony—opus hell-bent for release, movement number one.

Dark coils of lust rose sharply in Christian as he sank again and again into Claire’s wet pussy and Tucker filled him from behind.

He focused on their mingled scents—pine, citrus and passion.

Tucker had come home, and he wanted them.

Maybe his sabbatical from life had finally exorcised him of Heather.

A cry broke from Claire. Tucker reached around Christian and twined his fingers with hers. The sight of their hands joined around his body made his control slip even more.

With perfect rhythm, Tucker’s cock slid over Christian’s sweet spot. Shooting him higher. His balls tightened.

Christian reached between his body and Claire’s and ground his thumb against her clit. The stiff bud softened, gave way at the same moment she shattered around him.

The wild pulsations of her pussy tipped him off the deep end. A primal roar burst from him as jets of come emptied into her. Tucker went utterly still. Then in a fury, he pounded into Christian, over the gland that suddenly gave him more pleasure than he’d ever known.

His orgasm went on forever.

He came back to himself slowly. The first thing that filled his thoughts was a song Tommy Newlin had played earlier on the guitar during their sauce-making party. An old country song about love and hope that revolved through his memory.

Hell, it was perfect.

Claire’s face shone beneath him, glowing with her release and a light sheen of perspiration. Her hair rioted against the blue cotton sheets. A smile spread across her face, stealing Christian’s breath.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he grated out.

Tucker bit into Christian’s shoulder, causing him to jolt. He skimmed his palm down Christian’s abs. Very slowly, he pulled free of his body.

Christian leaned over Claire and gave her a tender, open-mouthed kiss. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized she’d ever held back. As he tangled his tongue with hers and knew no restraint or tension, an ache of happiness blossomed in his chest .

Yes, this was right. She was like him in so many ways that they were extensions of each other. But they were like a three-legged cat without Tucker—mobile but phantom-limbed.

“There room for me in this kiss?” Tucker’s voice came low, unsure. Christian’s skin prickled in gooseflesh.

They pulled apart as Tucker sank to the bed, having disposed of his condom. Christian shot him a look—wanting to devour him yet punch his perfect, handsome face too. Damn him for stealing these moments from them. They might have been complete long before now.

“Keep her warm for me.” Christian regretfully left Claire’s body to dispose of his own condom. When he returned, Claire was wound tightly in Tucker’s arms. Christian paused beside the bed, chest tight, watching their mouths move in sweet abandon.

If asked, he couldn’t explain their twisted trio. He could only relate what it felt like—a warm ache in his heart, a syrupy knife he hoped no one ever pulled free for fear that he’d bleed out.

* * * * *

Claire rubbed her cheek against Christian’s coarse, unshaven cheek then Tucker’s stubble.

The sweet hum of her release rolled out through her veins, loosening her by degrees.

Big muscles cradled her body from every angle—Tucker’s lightly furred calves, Christian’s strong thighs.

Hips trapping her into a confined space she never wanted to escape.

And God, their hands. Exploring, roving over her bare flesh until she couldn’t think of anything but making both men hard and ready again, to stare at them in the morning light.

From the yard, a shout. Then louder words—clearer words. “What the hell do you mean she’s in there with both of them? That’s my little girl!”

She bolted upright. Tucker followed, fists clenched and body tense.

“Claire!” came from the yard.

She leaped from the bed as if it were a runaway horse headed for a brick wall. Wild panic made her search frantically through a pile of discarded clothes for her panties. No thought lived in her mind besides getting her panties on before her daddy burst into the bedroom and found her with two men.

“Who the fuck is that?” Christian asked, voice slurred with sleep and pleasure.

“Claire’s father,” Tucker said at the same time she said, “My father.”

She paused with one leg in her lace panties and swung her gaze to Tucker’s. How did he know…?

Oh yeah. He’d been pow-wowing with her father while on the run.

She dropped her gaze and rushed into the rest of her clothes.

Tucker and Christian dressed too. If she wasn’t so keyed up that her father was about to beat down the door to get to her and possibly attempt to defend her virtue, she might have taken more time to sigh over the touching way Tucker handed Christian his jeans and Christian straightened the collar on Tucker’s shirt.

Boot thuds in the kitchen.