Mastered By The Mavericks(30)

That truth shone even brighter as she looked at both of them again.  Damn, what a sight. How did the room physically contain them both? Her  Viking and her pirate. Her North Sea and Caribbean Sea. Her gold-haired  god, her black-haired demon. They were two halves of one very perfect  bond. Inseparable. Balanced.

Until … they weren't.

Because she'd entered the picture.

Which means they can't ever really be yours.

Which meant the sooner they found Zo and disbanded this triangle peg in a round hole, the better.

She just wished the guys appeared more on-board with that plan.

Jamming hands in his front pockets, again practically pouting about it, Rhett mumbled, "Yeah. Got it."

He joined her in pinning expectant stares at Rebel. Who wasn't pouting.  Or mumbling. Or stabbing his hands anywhere near his pockets.

Instead, he stepped over and wrapped both of them around her nape.  Curled his fingertips into her hair, yanking her head back-so he could  kiss her with blatant, consuming intent.

"Sorry. I don't ‘got it'. I need to be reminded of how much you ‘enjoyed' everything."

He dictated the last of it against her lips, somehow opening them at the  same time. As soon as the words were done, his tongue got busy. Real  busy. Plunging, taking, swirling, so wet and strong and dominant …

Holy.

Shit.

It was one of those moments she'd always read in books but wrote off to  pure fiction: of shock so thorough, nothing but numbness reigned for  several seconds. She couldn't take a breath, make a sound, think of a  movement. When she finally could, the sensible answer checked in at  once.

Slap him.

But oh God … she didn't want to slap him.

She wanted to sigh and melt and open for him more, to acquiesce  completely, to make the desperation and frustration of the last three  days go away, if only for a little while longer. Oh, please … just a few  moments more …

Like that was going to be possible, with Rhett all but breathing down her neck too.

Rhett.

Hell! She was all but sucking face with Rebel, while Rhett-

Made all of it even better.

Ohhhhh … wow.

He really had been breathing down her neck-as she learned when he did it  even harder, pushing in to get a better view of every stab Rebel  thrusted down her throat. For several seconds, she fell into numbness  again. Could she trust the feedback her senses were sending? Were those  really Rhett's growls against her ear, growing with arousal? Was that  really his cock, swelling and insistent, against her waist? Was the new  scent in the air, all turned-on spiced musk, really swirling from her  sex?

Was she okay with this? Were they?

Those answers were still a blank space-but wouldn't be for long.

Rhett emitted a louder snarl, punctuated by lifting his hand to Brynn's  neck. Chafed her by pushing beneath Rebel's hold and taking charge of  her head with brutal force-twisting her around for his tongue's  ferocious assault.

The abrasions were worth it. The inability to think beneath his mouth's  possessive claim, also worth it. But the best reward of all came with  the fresh force in his eyes, sheened with lust but strong as steel, as  he jerked away and spoke his filler for the blank space.

"Maybe you need to remind us both, sweetheart. Right now. Together."





Chapter Nine





‡


Rhett watched the yes fire up her eyes before it lifted her lips. The  light, piercing as dawn through autumn leaves, mesmerized him just as  thoroughly-until she turned to give its magic to Reb-

Who was just as worthy of the words.

Mesmerizing. Magical.

Christ. He'd never seen Moon look like this. The man illuminated rooms  no matter where they went, but his luminosity always copied the  celestial satellite he was nicknamed after, borrowing the glow from  something else. Now, for the first time in their friendship, the joy on  Rebel's face was an inner thing, inspired by something that was purely  his …

Magnified as they locked eyes once more.

The guy's happiness ricocheted at Rhett like a rocket, decimating his  chest with its intensity. Rebel had gotten it-thank God. Had understood  everything Rhett was trying to communicate with this proposition. Though  he couldn't give Reb that extra step in their relationship-fuck,  regular friendship still wasn't something he knew how do correctly-this  was his way of trying. A bridge, in the form of this beautiful,  passionate woman, to at least connect them halfway. And God only knew,  all three of them needed reconnection right now. No guilt. No strings.  Just heat, desire, bonding, fulfillment. Just this. Just now. It was a  win-win-win.                       
       
           



       

He really liked those odds.

"Rebel?"

Brynna's query reminded him that Moon hadn't verbally weighed in on  things yet. Psshh. A formality, really. Rhett almost bellowed the hell,  yes on behalf of his friend.

Damn good thing he didn't.

Whoa. Rebel really had become a different person. The usual Moonstormer  would have been jumping on this invite like it was engraved in gold from  the Playboy Mansion. A let's-get-naked playdate, with Brynna and him,  no regrets or rearviews attached? Why the idiot wasn't dropping trou  this second, instead of taking a step back from them both, was a  deepening mystery.

"Reb?" Rhett issued his own cautious prompt. "You down or not?" And did he really have to voice it?

Rebel looked up-exposing the bright blue flashes in his gaze. "Oh, I'm  down." He moved back in, slipping one hand over Brynna's, before  spreading her fingers over his crotch. The swell beneath his track pants  visibly jumped, stretching a cock-shaped silhouette into the black  cotton.

Rhett barely stopped himself from swaying.

Goddamn, that was a stunning sight.

A gulp pounded down his throat. How the hell had this happened? He'd  always been an open-minded guy, but as a whole, cock did nothing for  him. In prep schools since the age of ten and cross-country at RIT, he'd  been in enough group showers to know it as a sure thing. Pussy was  definitely more his thing. Soft. Supple. Tender. Tasty.

But the cock in those pants wasn't just any cock. It belonged to the guy  who knew him better than anyone else. The man who'd seen enough  ugliness in his life not to be bothered about the strange journey of  his. The guy who understood what it was like to take life in chunks of  now instead of pining for the past or stressing about the future,  because none of it mattered if a bomb blew your face away. The man who  was more his family than the people with whom he shared DNA. His brother  in arms, his friend in all times of need-and in so many ways, his  soulmate.

Who'd understand, more than anyone, his need to deal with this shit by  making light of it. "Looks like you're up for it too, dude."

Rebel didn't laugh. Or react in much of any other way. The fucker was  still an enigma, his face a taut mask as he caught Brynna's other wrist  in his hold. He pulled her hands between their chests with a low growl.  "Let's be very clear. I want to do this with you as badly as Rhett does,  little cher … "

"But?" She supplied the implied word.

"But this time, I won't be able to control myself as much as I did on  the airplane. I won't be able to hide so many of my … special  preferences." One side of his mouth kicked up-finally-when his  revelation goose-bumped her flesh. "You're a very bright girl, aren't  you? You've already figured out what they are. Maybe even thought about  all the … creative ways … I could play with you." His thumbs stroked her  inner wrists. "Control you. Then pleasure you."

Rhett palmed the shaft now pushing at his own pants. "And I won't be able to hide what that does to me."

Rebel nailed him with a hot glance. "I sure as hell hope not."

Well, that made things official. Track pants really could be torture devices.

Brynna pushed out a cute huff-very cute, considering how tightly Reb  still gripped her wrists. "Are you proposing a negotiation with me, Sir  Moonstormer?" The little fox actually smirked. "Though there's not  likely a dungeon for miles, nor a submissive's contract on the printer?"

He and Rebel exchanged another glance. His buddy's black brows arched,  an ideal expression of the surprise they shared. "Those are some very  kinky terms for a minette who claims she wants no part of the big, bad  lifestyle."

"How do you think I came by that decision?" She tilted her head. "By hitting some Tumblr pages and reading a few novels?"

Rebel smirked. "Novels aren't a bad idea."

Rhett mirrored his look. "I've assigned a few well-researched romances as homework from time to time."

She huffed. "Is this the book club meeting now? If so, it's time to let me go, cowboy."

As she ramped the sass up, Rebel caught Rhett's eye again. Jerked his  head imperceptibly toward the rolling workbox next to the desk. If Rhett  wasn't so fucking aroused, he would've been a little scared by how  thoroughly he deduced the request.