“Let go!” Mac suddenly snarled. “By God, you will let go!”
Let go? What was she holding besides her sanity?
But a second later, even that was gone. One hand moved from her hips, cupped her breast, his fingers and thumb gripping her nipple as his lips covered hers and his tongue plunged home.
The heated grip on her nipple speared to her womb. His kiss electrified her as Jethro’s teeth bit into her shoulder, and she exploded. She died in their arms. She hurled through a vast, star-studded sky of racing colors and sensations that tore her free of her body as she felt the hard, fierce thrusts inside her body stroking her faster, flinging her higher into an orgasm she knew she would never recover from.
Her muscles tightened to breaking point, her pu**y began to convulse as she tightened on the erection thrusting into her rear and felt the tension in her womb begin to melt with a shattering force.
“Fuck!” Mac’s cry was savage. A second later he tensed beneath her, thrusting harder, the strokes tighter before she exploded again amid the heavy, fierce spurts of liquid fire he began pumping inside her.
Behind her, Jethro growled her name, then he, too, fueled the secondary explosions with his own release. She could feel his c**k throbbing fiercely inside the tight channel of her anus, but unlike Mac’s release, the fiery drenching was absent.
It didn’t hamper the final explosion of pleasure that raced through her, or the satiation that began to weave through her. She collapsed in her husband’s arms, boneless, drenched in their combined sweat, and quite happy to leave the effort of peeling her from where she rested in their hands.
Hands that were smoothing her body now, gentling the tremors that still ran through her. Hands that joined, gentle male lips that kissed her face, her shoulders, and her back. Hands that soothed and warmed and eased her into a dreamlike state that Keiley realized she never wanted to leave.
11
He was f**ked. Jethro realized the curious melting sensation inside his chest for what it was as he lifted Keiley’s boneless body into his arms and stepped back from the chair-stool combination they had used.
The rules were always clear. They always had been. He could share in the tender emotions Mac’s women had for him, but he couldn’t possess them. He couldn’t claim a part of their hearts as his own.
Until Keiley, he hadn’t wanted to.
Now, as Mac forced himself from the chair and set the cushions right, Jethro cradled the tender, nude body of another man’s wife and felt the first stirrings of regret.
“I’ll take her to the bathtub.” Jethro didn’t wait for Mac to take her out of his arms. Hell, he didn’t know if he could bear for Mac to take her from him right now. Not until he immersed himself in this feeling, let it ease into his mind and implant itself forever in his memories. He didn’t want to forget it.
“I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Mac stated impassively. “I put the bath salts under her cabinet.”
There was a ritual to this. Caring for the women who allowed them to share their bodies in such a way. It was a ritual Mac had begun with the first woman he had ever taken with the assistance of another male. It was one Jethro had readily embraced himself once he and Jethro began sharing their lovers.
Or rather, after Mac began sharing his. Jethro had learned early in their friendship that Mac had a way of attracting the gentle, caring women, whereas Jethro always seemed to scare them off.
He moved through the house and headed up the stairs, feeling Keiley’s small hand caress his chest. She thought he was Mac. She was still lost in the dazed aftermath of the powerful orgasms that had torn through her. She didn’t know who held her. She couldn’t know or she wouldn’t be stroking him so gently.
As he stepped into the bedroom she shared with Mac, Jethro couldn’t help but stare at the peaceful, warm atmosphere as he walked through it.
Traditional dark wood was softened with touches of her feminine presence. The flowered comforter over the bed, the vase of dried flowers on the bureau. There was a print of an aerial view of the farmhouse and surrounding pastures on one wall. A print of a fairy in flight on another.
A violet silk robe lay over the end of the bed; a teddy bear that he knew Mac had bought her sat on one end of the dresser.
In this room, the fact that she and Mac suited each other to a tee couldn’t be more apparent. And the fact that he had no place in it had never struck as hard as it did now.
Tightening his jaw, he moved into the bathroom, shifting his precious burden in his arms as he sat on the rim of the large tub.
Son of a bitch. Mac had installed a tub big enough for five people. It was easily the size of the hot tub on the deck behind the house.
Adjusting the water, he kissed Keiley’s head as she began to move about.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You need a hot bath, then you can sleep.”
“I’m hungry,” she muttered.
Jethro grinned at the telling comment. She had burned off enough calories cl**axing between him and Mac that she had every right to be hungry. Hell, he was damned hungry himself.
“We’ll feed you after you soak for a while.” He grimaced as he pressed his cheek to her hair, closing his eyes briefly before forcing back the regret.