Tension seems to leak from both men, Biker dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a whispered thank fuck. “We have a few ground rules,” Biker says, after a few beats pass. “First off, we want all your online dating accounts closed. And we want them closed yesterday.”
“No. Men. Only us,” Cop says directly against your mouth. “You’re a goddamn beauty, so they’re going to try and get close to what’s ours. So if they don’t back off when you say no?”
“We’ll want names, so we can handle it our way,” Biker finishes, his voice hard. “Non- negotiable.”
“No other men,” you agree with a slow nod, earning you two growls of appreciation. “No other women for you, either, though.”
Cop and Biker trade a comical glance, their scoffs nearly identical. “We’ve been inside your body, baby,” Biker groans into the curve of your neck and shoulder. “We’ve tasted the best. Come inside of her. Now there’s nothing and no one else.”
“We’re only pissed we didn’t find you sooner,” Cop says, cupping his hand around the juncture of your thighs, massaging with total possession.
Biker hums, rolling his hips beneath your bottom. “There’s one more rule, ‘kay, baby?”
“What is it?” You ask, ready to have your clothes torn off, no matter what. Soreness be damned, you want the same bliss from last night to take you under. Want them to come under with you.
Cop and Biker share a look. “We’re not ready to let you be with only one of us alone. Not yet. Not until we can trust each other not to try and steal you for himself,” Biker almost hisses the last word, the need to possess evident in his voice. “That means you’ll take both of us. Every time. If one of us is late or working, we wait. Until…if…we start to trust.” Biker’s touch finds your core, joining Cop’s hand in its rhythmic, sensual rubbing, both of them starting to breathe heavy, along with you. “You’re going to be tender here a lot. There will be nights when we’ll both need more than one turn with this sweet spot.”
Cop’s thumb finds your clit through the thin nylon of your yoga pants, joining you in a moan as the digit moves in a circle. “You took us so fucking perfect last night. Better than a fantasy,” Cop rasps, licking the seam of your lips. “If you let us keep you, we’re going to be a couple of guard dogs biting anyone who gets too close, but we’ll make you happy. We’ll soothe you after bad days and keep you safe.”
“Tell us that’s what you want,” Biker instructs…and they both hold their breath. “Ye—”
They don’t even let you utter the single word before Biker eases you to your knees on the floor, running comforting fingers through your hair. Both of them stand and begin to unzip their pants with hasty movements, breathing shallow. On either side of you, their heavy flesh is revealed, desperately in need of relief. From you. Only you.
Cop runs a thumb over your bottom lip. “Say yes again where we can feel it.” You don’t make it to yoga that day. Then again, who the hell needs it anymore?
Epilogue
Your apartment has been robbed. Doesn’t sleeping with a badass cop and an outlaw biker preclude you from this kind of nonsense? Apparently whoever swiped your flat screen and laptop didn’t get the memo. Truth be told, you’re a little shaken up after walking in and discovering your place in shambles. After placing a call to 911, you texted Cop and Biker and now, with two uniforms milling around your kitchen, you watch the door waiting for them to arrive.
And as always, they arrive with a vengeance.
Cop nearly rips your door off the hinges to get inside, ignoring the other uniforms. It’s the middle of winter, but sweat dots his brow, darkens the front of his uniform shirt. You don’t have a chance to eek out a greeting before he scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, setting you down just inside the door.
“Shit, baby. Tell me you’re okay.” He chokes on a swallow. “When I heard your address on the scanner…”
“I’m fine.” Oh crap. Sometimes when you’re frustrated, your emotions get the better of you and Cop’s dependable presence is pushing you to the edge. “I’m…I just…”
He crushes you to his husky chest, filling your nose with intoxicating eau de male. Adrenaline joins forces with lust to turn you on big time. Before you can stop yourself, you’re unzipping his uniform pants, your breath releasing in shallow gusts.
But he stops you by grabbing your wrist.
“The fucking rules.” His gaze feasts on your breasts, his tongue drenching his lower lip. Frustration radiates from his big body. “I can’t touch you unless he’s here.”
“There was unsaved work on my laptop.” You bat your eyelashes. “Can’t we make an exception for a tragedy?”