Читать книгу Sexy Beast VI - Lydia Parks - Страница 12

Tala followed Mik and AJ into their room. It was by far the largest and nicest, designed as it had been for Anton’s use. It felt weird, taking over his personal space, but he’d been more than generous when she’d called and asked about using the cabin.

“I think Anton’s really jealous that we’re here with six new Chanku and he’s stuck in Montana.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mik. His eyes glistened with what looked suspiciously like tears. “What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking how close we came to losing him. He almost died last month.”

AJ slipped an arm around Mik’s waist. “He did die last month. We brought him back. Don’t forget that. We all learned something from that mess.”

“I know I learned how much I love the man. How much I admire him. He was willing to give everything for us. I’ve often wondered if I have that kind of courage.” Mik walked past Tala and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are either of you as nervous as I am about what we’re doing?”

Tala sat next to Mik and bumped her shoulder against his arm. “Nah. Nothing to it.” She laughed. “Scared shitless, if you want the truth. What if something goes wrong?”

“I wish we could have taken them all straight to Anton, but Keisha said he’s still too fragile. She wants him to spend some time recuperating before he takes on a project.”

Tala leaned over and kissed AJ. “I have an idea of what Keisha’s idea of recuperating is. She’s finally interested in sex again. Lily took a lot out of her.”

“She’s a cute little thing.”

“You sound wistful, big guy. Got the baby blues?” AJ sat on Mik’s other side and threw an arm over his broad shoulders.

Mik turned and grinned at AJ. “When it was just you and me, I never thought of babies. Now we’ve got our very own breeder.”

Tala jumped off the bed and spun around with her hands on her hips. “Don’t you go looking at me that way!”

AJ frowned. “You don’t want babies? I thought you loved babies.”

“I do love babies. I love Alex and Lily and I will adore whatever Tia has, but I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I’m barely grown up! I’ve got lots of time.”

AJ frowned. He leaned close, reached up and plucked a hair out of her scalp.

She slammed her palm down on her head. “Shit! That hurt! What’d you do that for?”

AJ held the long strand up for Mik. “Yep. Gray.” He turned back to Tala. “You were saying?”

“Aaaarrrrgggghhh!” Laughing, Tala launched herself at AJ. He caught her, just as she knew he would. Then he kissed her, exactly as she’d hoped. Before she had time to even think of the six young people outside the door, Tala was slipping out of her clothing and rubbing against AJ like a cat in heat.

Mik flipped the lock on the door and stripped out of his shirt and pants. Then he caught Tala around the waist and held her captive while AJ undressed. She struggled, but only enough to keep the game alive. When Mik carried her to the bed, leaned back against the headboard, and stretched her out with her hands grasped firmly overhead in his, she twisted just enough to make AJ work for that first penetration.

She felt the broad head of his cock bumping against her inner thigh, and her pussy clenched. She arched her hips, waiting for AJ to fill her, but all he did was tease, rubbing his hot length between her legs, scraping his shaft over her clit with each upward and downward thrust.

“She’s making it too easy, Mik. Got any ideas?”

Mik laughed. “You kidding? I’ve always got ideas.”

Before Tala could even protest, he’d flipped her over and slipped just inside her sex with his huge cock. Her face pressed against his collarbone and she kissed the soft skin beneath his ear. Mik groaned and withdrew. Then he arched his hips again and pressed upward, deeper this time. She felt his slick glans catch at her entrance, felt the stretching that always hurt as much as it pleasured when he filled her, slowly forcing his entire length all the way inside.

Her legs stretched wide around his thick thighs, her inner muscles rippled, adjusted, welcomed his full length. Feminine juices flowed when he lifted her with each slow but steady roll of his hips, and he filled her deeper on each forward thrust. When Mik was totally engulfed in her rippling heat, he paused and grinned over her shoulder at AJ. “That the right angle, bro?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She felt her ass pucker, felt the taut muscle twitch in expectation. Usually the guys did each other. It had been a long time since she’d taken both of them at once.

AJ’s fingers lightly stroked her tight little hole. When Mik moaned, she knew his balls were getting the same attention. His penis jerked deep inside her.

A moment later, something cool and wet dripped down the crease between her buttocks and she picked up the subtle scent of cocoa butter and vanilla. AJ’s fingertips helped the lube along, creaming her narrow cleft from her tailbone to the thick base of Mik’s cock stuffed in her sex.

The cream warmed with each slow stroke of his fingers and Tala gave up all pretense of struggle. She wriggled her hips, but Mik refused to move. She felt the hot length of AJ’s cock pressing into the cleft between her cheeks. He slid, hot and wet from the cream, riding up and down in the warm valley.

Tala opened her thoughts and caught the laughter in Mik’s mind, the sense of AJ’s big cock sliding against Mik’s balls on every downward stroke. She sensed AJ’s preoccupation with every sensation, the way the cream, now heated with the friction of their bodies, left a tingle on the surface of his cock. The slick, smooth skin on the inside of her buttocks, now all warm and wet, the visual of her, stretched out over the chest of the man he loved, her body impaled on Mik’s perfect erection.

He could do this for hours, keeping the three of them on the edge of orgasm. They didn’t have hours. They had a few stolen moments while six anxious almost-Chanku prowled around just outside their door.

Tala spread her legs a fraction wider and wiggled her butt—enough, she hoped, that AJ would feel the puckered little muscle between her cheeks and remember what he was supposed to be doing. She knew from long experience that until AJ was deep inside, Mik wouldn’t move another inch, no matter how much she begged.

Her clit throbbed and the cream from her pussy was spilling out around the thick base of Mik’s deeply planted shaft. The mingled scents of sex and vanilla and cocoa butter made her nose tickle. She sent a mental plea to AJ to get a move on, now!

“Bossy little thing, isn’t she, Mik?”

Tala groaned. “Are you two bozos going to fuck me now, or do I have to show you how this is supposed to work? Now get moving!”

AJ snorted, and it was Mik who moved, spinning around on the bed until he had his feet on the edge and his knees in the air with Tala planted firmly on his cock, her legs ingloriously sprawled over his thighs. Mik gave AJ a perfect target when he finally stopped laughing long enough to crawl off the bed, slip on a condom, and stand between his lover’s feet. Mik lifted his hips and Tala with them, AJ pressed forward, and with all the cream and relaxed muscles, breached Tala’s tight sphincter and slid deep inside her rear on the first thrust.

They all sighed when his balls hit the underside of Mik’s shaft and rested on his sac, when the head of his cock rode the full length of Mik’s while deep inside Tala, separated by nothing more than a moist, feminine sheath.

He held perfectly still. Tala tapped into AJ’s thoughts and found a powerful blend of emotion and sensation, a maelstrom of visceral responses and feelings blended with all the emotions of a man who loved deeply, eternally.

She closed her eyes and held back the silly quip she’d intended to make. Now was not the time. Now was one of those perfect moments the three of them so often shared, their bodies linked, their hearts already beating in sync, breaths flawlessly matched as each inhaled and exhaled at the same time.

AJ was the first to move. Gently, at first, taking care not to hurt her, he withdrew and slowly thrust forward. Mik caught AJ’s rhythm and Tala became the vessel through which the two men made love, the link that held them together, the one who cemented the commitment they’d made to one another so long ago.

She felt her climax building, knew she was catching both Mik and AJ’s growing arousal, but something new floated in the space about them, something she’d not seriously considered until now.

She could give them a child, one borne of each man should they mate in the deep woods as wolves. Releasing an egg was a simple thing. Raising a child wasn’t, but she had two fathers, men who loved equally. There was no reason to choose. She’d merely make love to both, and when her body was filled with their mingled seed, the egg would choose.

Thinking of carrying either AJ or Mik’s child under her heart took her higher than she’d ever flown. A feral scream ripped from deep in Tala’s throat. She arched her back and sailed over the edge of orgasm.

Her body spasmed with the hot rush of Mik’s release and the deep thrust when AJ climaxed. Behind it all, she felt the gentle laughter of two men, each of them imagining their woman swollen with child.

Oops. Tala bit back a giggle. She’d let her thoughts fly free at the moment of climax. Shared a moment she probably should have kept private, at least for now, but the cat was out of the bag. Now she wasn’t the only one who would be thinking about babies.

Maybe, when they shifted, when her body was in heat and it was capable of producing a viable egg, she might be willing to take a chance. In spite of the danger, despite those in the world who would do them harm…maybe now truly was the time.

Smiling, imagining these two perfect men as fathers, Tala collapsed against Mik’s broad chest. AJ gently lowered himself over her back.

They lay there, the three of them sandwiched together, hearts pounding, minds spinning.

Filled with possibilities.

Dreaming of a future of their own creation.

Jazzy sat on the railing out front. Late afternoon sunlight bathed this one little corner of the porch, and she’d claimed it for her own. Beth and Nick hadn’t come out of the bedroom for at least a couple of hours, and Matt was sleeping in one of the other rooms. She wasn’t sure exactly where Deacon had gone, but he’d wandered into the woods to check out the huge trees.

Logan was the only one out here, but he wasn’t exactly with her. He’d gone down to the other end of the porch where he’d commandeered a deck chair. He sat there silently, staring at the dark forest.

She might as well have been all alone, out here waiting on AJ, Mik, and Tala. From the muffled laughter and the soft scream she’d just heard from the master bedroom, there was no doubt in Jazzy’s mind what was going on behind their closed door.

She felt that same ripple of sensation, the clenching of muscles, the presence of her clit rubbing against the thick seam of her jeans. Hell, she never thought of her clit. It was just there, a part of her body that usually stayed hidden until it was time to come out and play, but for some reason, lately the damn thing wanted to play all the time.

She was so not going to be ruled by her sex drive.

Like that was an issue.

Desire’d pretty much been fucked out of her after a lifetime on the streets. So many little kids, brought into the country illegally. Sold like so much property. No rights, no home, no parents. Nothing but one man after another, all with the same thing in mind.

When she was a cute little girl, they’d wanted to dress her up and then take off those same clothes. She’d had men purchase her time who wanted her to spank them. She’d actually sort of enjoyed that, especially when she was little.

When you’re little, just about everything’s a game.

She hadn’t liked it nearly as much when they wanted to spank her. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She did what they asked and they still wanted her over their laps with her pants down and her round little bottom in the air.

Damn, she was so screwed. No way in hell could she ever be a normal woman. Not now. Not after all that had been done to her over the years. Twenty-two years old, not a penny to her name, no real identification, no Social Security number, no idea what country she even came from.

She’d always figured her mom must have been Asian and her father black. Maybe a serviceman somewhere? She’d never know. Not that it would make any difference, but what kind of parent sold their child to a sex slaver?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hey, Logan.” She snorted, but she was secretly pleased he’d come down to her end of the porch. “You wouldn’t want ’em. Not even if I paid you.” Jazzy scratched her arms.

“They might be better than what I’ve got, which is a big, fat zero. I keep thinking I should remember something, but all I get is stuff that seems to come out of TV shows.”

Jazzy frowned. “What kind of stuff?”

He actually looked embarrassed. “Some medical show. I see doctors and nurses. Sometimes an operating room.”

“That’s probably from when you were first hurt. You’re remembering the doctors and nurses taking care of you.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. That must be it.”

When he looked away, though, Jazzy knew he didn’t agree. She turned back and gazed out at the redwoods, but her arms and legs felt all twitchy. She stood up. “I’m going to take a walk. Want to go with me? Let’s see if we can find Deacon.”

“Where’d he go?”

She pointed toward a break in the forest. “He took that trail. Said he wouldn’t go far, but he’s been gone about an hour.”

“Should we tell anyone we’re leaving?”

Jazzy shrugged. “Who? Everyone else is either screwing or sleeping. Leave a note.”

Logan went inside and came back a minute later with a water bottle he stuck in his pocket. “I just left a note on the table. Told them we’re taking a short hike and trying to meet up with Deacon.”

Jazzy laughed. “I’ve seen your writing. By the time they figure out your chicken scratches, we’ll probably be back.”

Logan flashed her a dirty look. Then he grinned. “C’mon. I need some exercise.” He grabbed her hand and tugged Jazzy along behind him. She went willingly, more aware than ever of the warmth of his hand, the tingle in her palm, and the matching sensations between her legs.

“It’s weird, but I can actually tell which way Deacon went.”

Logan glanced at Jazzy. “You, too? I thought it was just me. What are you following?”

Jazzy grinned. “The scent of his shaving cream. My nose is so much more sensitive now. What about you?”

Logan hated to admit that all this crap about turning into wolves was actually true, but he couldn’t deny facts. “I smell that, too, but I can actually see his body heat. It’s a visible image, like a thin film in the air.”

Frowning, Jazzy stared at the trail ahead of them. “I see it now. I think. Sort of a wavy line about waist height?” She glanced down and laughed. “We could always just follow his footprints. Look.”

Logan looked where Jazzy pointed. Plain as day, there were big footprints in the mud. Deacon’s heavy Doc Martens had left a noticeable trail. Logan knelt down in the mud and held up one beckoning finger. “Come, kimo sabe. White man go this way.” He stood up and laughed. “He can’t be too far ahead.”

Talk about a man of many moods. Jazzy followed where Logan led. The trail got narrower, the going rougher, but still they followed Deacon’s tracks and scent trail. Suddenly, Jazzy pulled to a stop. She held her hand up and planted it firmly in Logan’s midsection. “What’s that noise?”

Cocking his head, Logan caught the soft sound just ahead. “Shit, I think that’s Deacon! Sounds like he’s hurt.”

They ran through thick ferns and an even thicker stand of pussy willows growing along the bank of a sharply cut ravine with a narrow stream at the bottom. The trail dropped precipitously.

“Logan!” Jazzy’s foot slipped off the edge.

Logan grabbed her upper arm and yanked her back. Flailing for a moment, she finally caught her balance. He pulled her close. Heart pounding, Logan wrapped her against his chest and hung on tight.

“Help! Logan? Jazzy? That you?”

“Deacon?” Logan took a deep breath. He turned Jazzy loose. Her fear pounded inside his head, the words clear and panic-stricken. He’d been picking up her random thoughts for the past day or so, but not this clearly. “Wait here,” he said.

He surprised himself, and Jazzy as well, when he planted a firm kiss on her full lips. She was still standing there wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, when he carefully slipped between the willow branches to the edge of the cut. Using the strong roots hanging out of the sheer wall, he lowered himself the twenty or so feet to the bottom of the narrow chasm.

Deacon’s lanky six-and-a-half-foot frame lay in a crumpled heap on a sandbar at the edge of the creek. His right leg lay beneath him, twisted awkwardly. Deacon’s normally fair skin was almost bluish in the shadowed light, and his hands were covered in shallow cuts and scratches. However, he’d managed to raise himself up on one elbow, which was a good sign.

“Looks like you get the klutz of the year award.” Logan knelt down beside his friend and checked his pulse. A bit fast, but steady. “What happened?” He looked into Deacon’s eyes and wished he had a flashlight to check his response, but at least Deacon’s pupils were both the same size. Dilated, but that was to be expected, considering the pain he must be in.

Logan actually felt Deacon’s pain. His leg ached so badly he could barely stand it. He consciously tried to block it so he’d be able to function. This was just too weird.

Deacon slowly shook his head. “Walking along the trail watching some neat birds,” he said. His voice was thready, his pain a living, breathing entity from his toes to his head and Logan felt all of it. Deacon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opened them slowly. “The ground disappeared out from under me. I slid feet first until my foot got caught in some roots. Heard my leg snap. Banged my head.”

“Bet that ruined your day. Did you black out?” Logan parted Deacon’s dark hair looking for injuries. There was a big knot in the middle of his forehead, but the skin wasn’t broken. He touched it lightly. Deacon jerked away.

“Ouch. No, I didn’t black out. Son of a bitch! That hurt.”

Logan laughed. “Well, at least we know you’re conscious and lucid. Just hold on. Good thing you landed on a sandbar and not in a pile of rocks.” Logan sensed before he saw Jazzy. He turned and saw her peeking through the branches at the edge of the ravine above them. “Can you find your way back?” he asked. “I think he’s got a broken leg. We’ll need Mik and AJ to get him out of here.”

Jazzy’s sympathy washed over him in a warm wave. Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, Deacon. I’m so sorry.” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m outta here. I’ll be back asap.”

Logan heard the rustle in the branches as she raced back through the willows. He turned his attention back to his friend. “Can you move your fingers? Toes…well, obviously not the toes on your right leg.” He did a quick check, but didn’t see any other obvious injury. “I’m going to have to splint your leg before we can move you. If you want, I’ll do it before the others get here so you can yell all you want. It’s gonna hurt like a sonofabitch.”

Deacon nodded. “Might as well. Damn.”

“I need some thick branches, a board, something as straight as I can find. I’ll be right back.” Logan headed about fifteen yards upstream to a logjam he’d spotted. Deacon’s pain followed him. He dug around in the pile for a few minutes before he found a length of weathered board. It was about six inches wide and looked like it might have come from an old cabin or fence. Once he hammered a sharp rock against one end, the board split cleanly along the grain into two three foot sections.

Deacon lay back in the sand with his eyes closed. “You don’t happen to have any water with you, do you?”

“Yeah. It’s your lucky day.” Logan handed him the small bottle he’d stuck into his pocket earlier.

“Funny. You’re real funny, Logan.”

Logan helped him raise his head. “Drink it slowly.” Deacon took a long swallow that almost drained the bottle.

“Let’s get you straightened out.” Logan lifted Deacon’s wide shoulders and lined his upper torso up with his good leg. Deacon cried out and bit his lip. The other leg was still twisted painfully beneath him.

“I hate to do this to you, buddy, but we can’t move you without a splint, and I can’t splint it twisted this way. Here…” He pulled his leather belt out of his pants, folded it in two and handed it to Deacon. “Bite on this.”

Deacon tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a groan. “You sound like a damn cowboy doctor. Gonna cauterize something with a hot branding iron?”

Logan laughed, but he stared at Deacon’s twisted leg and wondered whether or not the fracture had broken the skin. He grabbed his folding knife out of the side pocket of his jeans. “I’m going to cut the pant leg open so I can see your injury better. I’ll use our belts to tie the splint.”

“Just do it, man. Don’t talk about it.”

“Right.” Logan scooted down and unlaced Deacon’s heavy boot. Even though he was really careful slipping it off, Deacon moaned in pain from the slight movement of his leg.

Logan imagined he heard the sound of bone grating against bone. Then he realized it wasn’t his imagination. He had heard it. Nervous sweat poured off his face and down his back. He always hated this part of emergency care. Sometimes you caused more pain, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.

He finally got the boot off. Then he sliced the denim lengthwise, cutting through the thick hem, up through bloodied fabric to a point just above Deacon’s knee. When he glanced at Deacon, he had to look away. Agony spilled out of him and it was harder to block when Logan looked directly at him.

But he had to look. Had to keep tabs on his patient, and right now it appeared that Deacon was going into shock. Where the hell were Mik and AJ?

Finally Logan finished cutting through the denim, slicing around Deacon’s leg above his knee and lifting the blood-soaked fabric away from his injured leg. Jagged bone protruded from a two-inch gash below his knee. “Shit, man. You’ve got an open, compound fracture. You might need surgery, maybe a pin or a plate to hold it together.”

“That’s gonna screw with my shifting, right, Logan?”

His voice sounded much weaker. Luckily, the bleeding appeared to have stopped, but he needed medical care fast.

“Shifting is the last thing we need to worry about. Bite down on that leather.” Before Deacon had a chance to worry about what was to come, Logan grabbed his ankle and slowly pulled his leg straight, twisting the bone into place as he tugged. Deacon screamed as the jagged end of bone slipped beneath the tear in his skin.

Then he passed out.

Logan groaned and shuddered with the excruciating pain Deacon broadcast. His hands froze around his buddy’s ankle, but the pain lessened as soon as unconsciousness overtook Deacon’s mind. Logan breathed a sigh of relief as the bone seemed to slip into position. “Thank goodness you can’t feel this, buddy,” he whispered. “Thank goodness I can’t feel it, either.”