Page 74 of Nailed

Rafe moaned into my pussy, then stood to his feet and yanked me back from Brock.

“My turn,” he hissed, turning me around and lifting me by the hips until I was wrapped around him. He guided his weeping cock inside of me and I threw my head back, immediately starting to ride. I felt Brock kiss my back and run his hands down my sides, massaging my arms.

“I think we should move somewhere we can be a little more comfortable,” Rafe gasped out. Brock grunted and moved ahead of us, guiding the way to a small empty office along the corridor. Rafe carried me there while still buried inside me, and slammed me down on the desk. The coldness of the wood bit into my skin even as my body continued to heat up. He buried his face in my chest and began to move, muffled whimpers escaping his mouth with every thrust.

I kissed the top of his head then looked around for Brock. He leaned over me, his face hovering over mine. He watched my features twist in pleasure with a reverent fascination, running the back of his hand against my cheek. I leaned into his touch, kissed his palm.

I used my free hand to find and guide his erection into my mouth and his body seized up, his hand still on my face. I closed my eyes, letting my tongue bathe his cock as I clenched around Rafe’s and realized this is what I was truly greedy for.

It wasn’t just the pleasure these men provided. It was their presence, the souls in their bodies that gave me all this heat. And they both seemed to realize it, too, because the glint of competition that sparked in the back room now dissolved into something new.

Right before I came, Rafe felt me tense and pulled out. My mouth slipped off of Brock’s cock as well, and with wordless, yet damn near perfect execution, they maneuvered my body until I was on all fours on the table, my head now at Rafe’s waist and Brock holding onto my hips.

I didn’t say anything, just kissed Rafe’s abs and ran my tongue down the valley between them, then took him into my mouth. Behind me, Brock sank inside again, a gravelly, throaty noise on his lips.

The three of us moved together, lost to everything else but each other and my body was the live wire running through it all. Brock’s fingers found my clit and I came first and hard, the other two following shortly after, Brock leaning over and pressing his face to my back. I swallowed, and Rafe’s hips rocked through the last waves of his own climax.

Our collective, ragged breathing was the only sound that punctured the heavy silence of the office and we gingerly pulled apart. Rafe looked down at me as though I was the only material thing in the world, and Brock’s hands were steady as he helped me stand up.

“Easy,” he said, carefully helping me off the table on shaky legs. We managed to collect our scattered clothes and erase all traces of what we’d just done, and it was only then that Brock acknowledged Rafe with a sniff of suspicion.

“Okay, Merrick. You dodged the question earlier but it still stands. What the hell are you doing here?” Brock pressed.

Rafe tugged on his shirt and grabbed his fallen keys from the warehouse floor. “I’ve gotta go.”

Brock called after him, but he was already out the door.

29

Lauren

“You made a good call on Swiss Coffee, Lauren. This place is going to look fantastic,” Brock called down from his post atop a 10-foot A-frame ladder. He was cutting in the delicate line where the warm taupe wall met the ceiling, and from his position he could see how the entire living room would be pulled together by the palette I’d chosen.

“It’s still just the base coat. There’s still time for you to tell me I should’ve gone with gray,” I said, rolling the long extension roller across the broad middle section of the main wall.

Brock shook his head. “I’ve been in the business long enough to know how the space will turn out when done. You did good.”

I glowed under his praise, knowing that no amount of being pussy-whipped was going to eclipse his critical judgment when it came to the job. Callum hummed, looking up from his crouch near the baseboards where he was using a small sash brush for the bottom trim.

“It’s a pretty color, darlin’. Though I wish you’d take it easy and just relax for a bit. You’ve been helping nonstop,” he said.

“And here I thought you enjoyed spending time with me,” I said, mock-sadly.

“Oh, I adore spending time with you. But I just think that you forget you’re actually paying us to do the job,” he said. His gentle voice carried some humor in it, but I knew that there was a stem of truth in his concern. I put the roller down in the paint tray and walked over to him, hands on my overall-covered hips.

“It’s still my apartment, Cal. And if you really feel that guilty about it, just make sure you compensate me fairly for my labor,” I said, lingering on the word “compensate.” He stopped painting, putting down his own brush as he picked up on the innuendo.

“Hey, no fraternizing on the worksite,” Brock reminded us, but Cal and I both ignored him.

“Compensation, huh?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re sounding a bit serious there, Miss Lauren. Kind of like Brock.”

Rafe snorted, leaning against the scaffolding unit he was using to handle the mid-to-high reach areas of the opposite wall. “Don’t do it, Cal.”

“The paint’s drying out,” Brock warned.

I squared up to Callum, folding my arms. “What’s wrong with demanding repayment for my skills? There’s been no complaints, right?”

“None at all,” Cal answered. “But you do need to loosen up a bit.”