Page 73 of Nailed

She gripped the back of my neck and then I couldn’t control it anymore. She opened those pretty legs for me and I sank inside, my entire body thrumming with relief.

Lauren wrapped her limbs around me and I just stood like that for a moment, enjoying the way that felt. It reminded me of our conversation in her kitchen the other day, that unspoken desire to find home.

And this was home, the feeling of her body wrapped around mine, drawing me in, her soft breaths on my neck and the little sounds in her throat. Everything outside of this warehouse melted into a big pool of nothingness. There was just Lauren.

I kissed her temple softly, a silent apology for what I was about to do next. I began to move, driving my hips as deep as they could take me, seeking more and more of her out. The shelf shook behind us and I quickly put a hand behind Lauren’s head, afraid she would bang her head against its metal bones.

“Brock, you feel so good inside of me,” she whimpered, holding onto my shoulder. “More, please, give me more.”

Hearing that made me feral. I don’t know what came over me but the intense desire to please her, to claim her, to feel her was overwhelming. A deep groan rumbled in my chest as I increased the pace of my thrusts, slamming into her so hard that the shelf very nearly toppled over but I didn’t care.

All that mattered was that Lauren kept making those sounds and that she kept calling my name. All that mattered was the way her body gripped mine, her welcoming, intoxicating heat burning up every single remnant of common sense I had left.

Her orgasm triggered mine and I pulled out before I could come, having to catch myself on the brackets. We were both panting hard, our bodies sweaty against each other as we climbed slowly down from the high. Lauren’s face was flushed, her hair messy and a look of awe on her face that steadied my heartbeat, held it captive.

“Brock, I—” Lauren sighed, her hands tangling in my hair. But she didn’t finish what wanted to say.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I asked, moving a strand of sweat-slick hair off her forehead.

Before she could answer, the click of the interior door made us spring apart, and I instinctively moved to cover Lauren’s body as she struggled to adjust herself.

“Who’s there?” I demanded, my eyes searching the dark entrance to catch a glimpse of the intruder. It could only have been an employee, but who the hell would…

“Fancy running into the two of you here,” Merrick’s voice rang out and eventually he walked into a spot where we could see him. I scowled, tucking myself back into my jeans. “Room for one more?”

28

Lauren

Brock’s jaw ticked and a muscle jumped in his cheek but Rafe didn’t seem bothered by it. He wasn’t even looking at him, instead he was looking at me.

My body was still trembling from the high Brock had just taken it to, but still, I wanted more. When he’d called me greedy I don’t think he truly understood just how accurate that statement was.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Merrick?” he said, his voice sounding as thunderous as the look on his face.

“I could ask you the same question, Boss,” Rafe shot back. “Last I checked, Lauren here wasn’t even an employee.”

“Just stop talking, both of you,” I said, putting my hand on Brock’s arm. He looked hesitant, glancing at me to see what I was making of the whole situation. “Don’t you guys think there’s something better we could do than just talk?”

Understanding dawned on Brock’s face but he still didn’t look convinced. I slid a hand down his chest, trailed it down his stomach and let it rest on his still-hard cock. His breath hitched. I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “And if I remember correctly, you still haven't come yet. Let him join.”

His throat bobbed but I could tell that he was still turned on. “Fine.”

I wasn’t sure just how fine it was, but Rafe didn’t waste a moment, immediately starting to undress and moving in behind me. It was the same kind of impulsiveness he’d shown with Callum, never questioning the idea of sharing me but determined to make sure he got his. Greedy boy.

“You’ve done this before,” Brock noted and a flash of guilt punctured through my arousal.

I knew he meant the multiple-man scenario, not sleeping with Rafe, which he was already aware of. After the time we spent together today, I wondered if that would piss him off. We hadn’t discussed exclusivity, sure, but everything we’d shared felt like it belonged to that realm of connection. Something sacred.

I wondered if he felt me sharing that with other men somehow cheapened it. But then he grabbed my face and kissed me deeply, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with an almost vengeful intensity.

He’d said he liked me being greedy back at the firehouse. I should’ve known better than to think he was lying. Rafe didn’t bother trying to steal kisses from Brock, instead dropping to his knees behind me. I moaned into Brock’s mouth as Rafe started eating me out, having to grip onto his arms to keep myself upright.

I watched his eyes flicker with jealousy, then sheer lust, and then settle somewhere in between. He started nibbling on my neck, his hands going straight to my breasts and playing with my nipples just the way he’d memorized I liked to be played with. With a wave of overwhelming clarity, the type that peaks just before a crash, I understood what was happening.

Both men, who prided themselves on mastering their technical skills, were trying to prove that they knew the blueprints of my body better than the other. Maybe to each other, maybe to me, I didn’t care. I couldn’t, not when it felt so fucking good.

I writhed between them, shamelessly taking my pleasure from them both. Every time Rafe tore a moan from my mouth, Brock would adjust his technique, trying to one-up him until my voice was hoarse, scraped raw.