Available in ebook from Loose Id

FYI, this story is a big spoiler for One For The Team. If you haven’t read it and don’t want to know what happens, stop here.

OFTT is a m/f story. This story is about Jason and Davey, two of Jen’s best friends. I assure you, it becomes m/m but it starts out m/f/m.

BLURB:

Others might be fooled into thinking Davey is just a computer nerd, but Jason knows better. He knows his geeky best friend is wicked to the core. So, he shouldn’t be surprised when Davey lures him into a threesome on the night of their friends’ wedding. Two guys and one girl turns out to be a pretty terrific thing, especially when watching Davey have sex is almost as exciting as knowing Davey is watching him. And the girl doesn’t seem to mind either.

One threesome leads to more, but then something changes. Now, when Davey touches him, it’s a whole new ballgame. Jason likes it…a lot, and he likes it even more when they try sex without the girl. Who knew?

But Jason’s troubles are just beginning. He sees newfound depths in their friendship. Depths he’s willing to explore. Too bad Davey doesn’t feel the same.

The past has taught Davey that happily ever after doesn’t exist and Jason is afraid he’ll never be able to change Davey’s mind.

Will Jason be able to convince his stubborn friend that true love is possible for their two man team?

Here’s a taste of the first chapter as it now stands. Takes place right after Jen and Ken’s wedding.

***********************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long-term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart, and Davey but refusing to sleep with him. Jason had to admit that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night with him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.

But that didn’t help him tonight. Clearly, if he was going to find companionship, he would have to go elsewhere.

Setting his glass down on the pristine white tablecloth, he stood. Jen and Ken were busy, so he chose not to bother them. He’d already bestowed his congratulations on the happy couple, and he’d see them at work on Wednesday anyway since they weren’t going on their honeymoon until November. Because the restaurant was open for regular diners tonight as well, Bart would be busy.

Where was Davey? The little snot was his ride home, which was the only reason he was still drinking. Last time he’d seen the other man had been when there were still people dancing on the miniature floor. That had to have been an hour or so ago. As he meandered toward the door leading out of the banquet room, Jason pulled out his cell and sent a text to his friend: Where r u?

Once out of the room, he edged around a small dining area toward the buzz of conversation that surrounded the bar. The area was pretty typical of an upscale restaurant like Bart’s. Up two steps and Jason was surrounded by shining polished wood, mirrors, and muted lighting. A few minitables were scattered in the open area on one side, but the main focus was the long bar with the bottles of booze behind on mirrored shelves. There were only about a dozen people there, and he recognized a few from the wedding. He waved to Ken’s sister with her hubby and Tina and Dan from work, but headed for the end of the bar. He took a barstool and watched a few pitches in the Pirates/Brewers game while he waited for Jake, the bartender, to finish up and bring him another.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, watching the roll of scores across the bottom of the plasma screen mounted on the wall. Mets won again. That meant his beloved Braves were another game down. It was a damn sure bet they weren’t going to make it to the play-offs this year.

He was halfway through another Black Russian and well into the next inning of the Rockies/Giants game when Davey finally texted him back. He flipped open the phone to read the message: Come. Back lot.

The parking lot in the back? “Why?” he asked the phone aloud, knowing full well it wouldn’t answer. So he texted it: Why?

A moment later came the reply: Just come.

Typical Davey. No explanation, just an expectation of obedience. Had he moved his car? If so, why? No telling with Davey, of course. He followed his own rules for everything.

Sighing, Jason stood, then downed his drink and paid for it while grimacing at the onslaught of rich coffee liqueur down to his gullet. He hoped whatever Davey had in mind was worth it. He didn’t drink Black Russians often, and he preferred to savor them.

Well acquainted with the layout of the restaurant, he headed for the darker hallways that led to the restrooms. Beyond the johns was another hall that led both to the manager’s office and employees’ lockers. There was also a fire door that led to the back parking lot. Once outside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting directly overhead that cast faux moonlight in the immediate vicinity. The parking lot in back only held ten spaces, meant for kitchen staff and managers. Bart’s Beemer sat directly outside the door.

It took a moment, but Jason finally located Davey leaning against the dark shadow of his deep blue Mustang GT at the very edge of the halo of light. His white dress shirt and light-colored slacks stood out against the black background of the trees that stood beyond the pavement, as did the bright pink T-shirt of the girl pressed against him.

What the hell? Jason scowled. Was he going to have to find another way home? That little shit.

Having heard the door open, Davey waved him over with one arm while keeping the other wrapped around the girl.

Muttering to himself, Jason descended the three cement steps of the stoop and crossed the lot. He really shouldn’t begrudge his buddy finding a date. Wasn’t he hoping to do the same thing?

She was cute, too. A little under Davey’s height, which put her around five feet four or five, she had that hair that wasn’t quite brunette and wasn’t quite blonde but was kind of both, cut short, level with her rounded chin. She had a slim little body with a tight belly shown off by the way her T-shirt rode up because her arms were around Davey’s neck. When she turned to grin at Jason, he guessed she was around their age, with a bright smile and carefully plucked eyebrows. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes because it was too dark in the lot.

Jason stopped a few paces away from them and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “What’s up?”

Davey grinned, the lenses of his thick-rimmed glasses catching a glint from the light behind Jason. “This is Tacy.”

The girl unwound her arms and turned to face Jason but kept her hip snuggled up against Davey. She extended a hand to Jason. “Stacy without the S. Hi.”

He took it, mustering a smile. Maybe she had a friend inside. “Hi.”

Her fingers slid over his palm as their hands parted, and she gave him a warm little grin that he couldn’t decipher.

Keeping his eyes on Jason, Davey rubbed her back, making her T-shirt ride up her belly a little more. With the dip of her low-rise jeans, there was a nice bit of soft flesh visible. “Tacy’s never had two guys at once. I told her we could probably accommodate her. What do you think?”

Jason blinked. Then his jaw dropped. “Huh?”

Tacy giggled, propping her back up against Davey so he could slide his arms around her from behind.

Davey wasn’t even fazed by what he’d said. “Tacy wants to do us.”

She giggled again. “Or you do me.”

One of Davey’s thumbs tucked into the waistband of her jeans, right behind the button. “Some of both.”

Jason’s gaze snagged on that thumb, his imagination filling in what was right near it. “You guys are serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Tacy assured him.

“Do I know you?”

She pulled away from Davey and closed the distance to Jason. Blue. Her eyes were blue. “Not yet.” She let that blue gaze rake him up and down before she spread her palms over his chest, slipping them underneath the lapels of his jacket to lightly press his nipples. “But we can fix that.”

He glanced over her shoulder. Davey remained where he was, arms now folded across his chest. His head was cocked to the side, shiny, straight brown hair falling to the side from the tilt of his head. That smug little grin he almost always wore was right there, challenging Jason to take up the offer.

A few months ago, Jason might not have considered it. But after what had happened with Jen this summer, he was caught. That night the five of them had shared sprung to mind. It had been sexy as hell watching the other guys fuck Jen, knowing they were watching when he was inside her himself. All too vividly he could conjure up the memory of Davey, naked and sheened with sweat as he plowed into Jen from behind. He remembered the fevered glee in Davey’s unshielded eyes when their gazes had met over Jen’s back, Davey fucking her while Jen sucked Jason’s cock. It was the single most erotic thing he could remember doing in his life.

The light in Davey’s eyes told Jason he remembered the same thing. And wanted to do it again.

Why the hell not?

His thoughts had taken mere seconds. His gaze returned to Tacy’s by the time she spoke again. “What do you say?”

He grinned down at her, setting his hands on the curve of her hips. “I’m game if you are.”

****************

Click here to visit the site’s main page for Two Man Team

Pairing: m/f, m/f/m+

Available in ebook from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

Available in ebook from Barnes & Noble

This one is a fun (I hope) romp, pure and simple. I had the idea and much of it written pre-Dark Elves I: Taken and thought it was a neat enough idea to resurrect.

Sorry, no m/m in this one. But… the cps saw a possible connection so maybe there’ll be a follow up story.

BLURB:

Alex dumped her and Jen’s not sure why. Okay, he’d been her first, but she thought she’d done rather well, sexually speaking. Why did he all of a sudden tell her that it wasn’t working out? What was wrong with her?

Ken, Bart, Davey and Jason—her best friends—all try to convince her there’s nothing wrong with her. In fact they seek to prove it to her… by first-hand example. That’s all well and good until Jen starts to freak about that. She’s sleeping with her best friends.

What’s up with that?

****************************

© 2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“He always was a cocksucker,” announced Jason, pouring the last of the beer from the pitcher into his thick plastic mug. His spiky blond hair glowed orange in the dark parlor lights around us. “I’m sorry I ever introduced you to him, Jen.”

“Yeah.” Bart sat up straight, raised two fingers to his lips, and whistled. When the bartender looked our way, he pointed at the empty pitcher, then held up two fingers. He reached out with one long arm and snatched up the last slice of sausage and olives. “Pussy too. Throws like a girl.”

That got a chuckle from me. “Alex is not the athletic type,” I explained with exaggerated patience, picking apart the wet cardboard coaster that had been soaked under my latest drink. “He’s the workout type.” And, boy, was he! Nice, tight abs; firm, strong arms; a chest that just had to be admired; and a butt so round and perfect that it didn’t look real sometimes. But all from working out at the gym. I think a bit too much on the upper body work had caused his arms to do the thing where he just couldn’t throw a softball right. Wasn’t true of all men, I knew, but it was true of Alex. Sad, really. To see such a marvelous specimen of manhood look so ridiculous on the playing field.

“Muscle-bound pretty boy.” Bart lowered sculpted black brows at me, his look as serious as it could be after we’d finished about a pitcher each. “Truth, Jen. He was a lousy lay, wasn’t he?”

I glared at him. “He did just fine.”

“Do tell!” Bart waggled those same brows. Grinning, he reached up to turn his cap so that the bill covered the back of his neck, and leaned toward me. “Did you test to see if you could bounce on his abs like a quarter? C’mon, spill. He was built like a hamster, right?” His teeth were surprisingly white against the dark background his skin presented. A big, tawny black man with a deep voice and soulful brown eyes, Bart got more chances for sex than any of the rest of us at the table, but he never passed up an opportunity to hear about it.

Ken kicked him underneath the table. “Yeah, jackass, that’s just what she wants to talk about after the asshole dumped her.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Bart threw a wadded-up napkin at him. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” He raised his mug over his head. “Good riddance to him anyway.”

Jason, Ken, and quiet, amused Davey all raised their mugs over my head, saluting Bart’s words.

I twisted my mouth into a weak parody of a smile. Actually, I did wish that Bart hadn’t mentioned it. Sex with Alex had been fabulous, to say the least. Alex had been into long, slow fucking with lots of foreplay. Long, slow fucking and foreplay that I would now not get to experience again. It had taken me twenty-five years to find a man to have sex with in the first place — now what was I going to do?

Ken poked my arm. “Quit it,” he said when I glared at him.

I wrinkled my nose at him, but he just rolled his eyes. Ken knew me better than anyone, and he knew I was remembering. My best friend through college and beyond, Ken had heard all of my bitching and whining for the past week since Alex had lowered the boom. He might have been more anxious for me to get over it than I was.

“Now, now, kiddies.” Bart spread his big hands on the pockmarked table before him. He paused while the waitress leaned over him to set down the two new pitchers of beer, admiring the cleavage she displayed for him with a smile. He didn’t go looking for women — they fell at his feet. Which was one of the reasons he and I got along. He saw me as one of the guys, despite the fact that I had tits. It had been that way since we’d met, and we were both very happy with the arrangement. Giving the waitress — who had to be new, since I, a regular, hadn’t ever seen her before — an encouraging smile just before she left, he picked up my mug in one hand and the fresh, frothing pitcher in the other. “Let’s not fight. Let’s just get drunk.” He poured.

Drunk. Yeah. That’s what I needed. I was already on my way, as were we all. Still in our uniforms from the softball game we’d won a few hours ago, we knew we were safe to drink since Bart would send us all home in taxis in a little while anyway. Discussion of the baseball game playing on one of the televisions mounted overhead replaced the dissection of my now nonexistent love life.

Unfortunately, my thoughts would not stray far from Alex. He was the first real boyfriend I’d had in my life, even if the relationship had only been for three months, with him out of town a few weeks during that. The fact that it had ended so abruptly stuck in my craw. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t smothered him. I hadn’t done the typical girl things. I’d given him freedom. I’d never denied sex. In my own humble opinion, I’d been a damn fine girlfriend. Discussions with Ken and Bart had both backed me up on this fact. So why…?

“Okay, damn it!” I slapped the table to get their attention. “What’s wrong with me?”

Four pairs of eyes in varying degrees of bleariness looked to me. I’d interrupted some heated conversation that I hadn’t been following.

“Wrong?” Jason blinked half-focused blue eyes at me, perplexed.

“I know, I’m too fucking butch, right? Or am I too plain?” I scraped a hand through the bangs falling in my face. At the moment the hair was certainly a mess, the length of it drawn into a sweaty ponytail down my back, but when it was clean, it fell in gentle waves halfway to my waist. Alex had loved my hair. Or at least, that’s what he’d told me when we’d been sleeping together. I’d never thought the rest of me was all that impressive, but he’d seemed to enjoy me for a time. “What’d I do?”

“Jeez, Jen, give it a rest,” Davey grumbled, attention fixed on the television above.

Jason gave me a commiserating smile. “Yeah, you just forget about him. Ain’t nothing wrong with you.”

“No, Jason.” I jabbed my finger on the table. “Alex left me, and all he’d say was, ‘It wasn’t working out.’ That’s bullshit. I wanna know why. I don’t wear dresses and shit. Is that it? I’m not all that ‘feminine’? Should I start wearing makeup and high heels?”

Ken slapped the back of my head, almost making me knock my forehead on the mug sitting in front of me. “Now you’re being stupid.”

Scowling, I backhanded his shoulder. “Then what?”

Ken fixed big brown eyes on me. He was drunk, but he handled it well. “Alex was a first-class idiot. I told you that when you started dating him.”

“He couldn’t handle a woman like you.” I turned to blink at Davey, thrown for a second by the light sheening his glasses so he looked like one of those cartoon characters with no eyes. “Not a lot of men can.”

“And most of us know it.” Bart picked up a cold slice of pepperoni, then shook his head and put it down carefully. “Some of us’ll try, then run for the hills.”

“Bastards, all of you,” I grumbled.

“No doubt, no doubt.”

“Why don’t you sleep with one of us?” The table went silent as the weight of Davey’s soft-spoken words hit us. I wasn’t the only one staring at him with my mouth open.

He rolled his eyes and looked at us all. “What? Am I the only one who thought about it?”

I said, “Yeah,” but I heard the noes, which just made me turn my unhinged-jaw stare around the table. “What?!”

More rolled eyes from different heads.

“Oh, come on, Jen,” Bart scoffed. “You didn’t think we hadn’t thought about sleeping with you?”

He had? Mr. Snap-my-fingers-and-pussy-comes-running? “No.”

The back of my head got slapped again, Ken muttering, “Stupid.”

“You too?” I cried, too stunned to even grumble about being hit. Ken and I were friends. I’d heard him talk about his various girlfriends. We weren’t like that.

Because his black hair was cut short around the ears and neck, I clearly saw the flush that turned his skin a few shades darker, even if he tried to ignore it. “Jesus, Jen, how blind are you?”

“But…” I spread my hands on the table before me, looking around at them. Mostly I looked at necks and chests because, all of a sudden, I wasn’t comfortable looking at their faces.

Jason laughed. “Don’t worry, Jen. It’s not like any of us were going to do it.” He scowled. “Wait, that came out bad.”

Bart chuckled. “Jen, we’re all very aware that you don’t look at us that way.” He gave my hand a brotherly pat. “We’re your friends. That’s okay.”

“Although” — Davey held up a long finger — “if you really wanted casual sex, you’ve got four outlets right here.”

Ken’s blow to Davey’s upper arm was harder than what he’d dealt me. “Shut up, asshole. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“I’m just saying…”

“She heard what you said.” Ken picked up his mug, and I barely heard the next mumble. “And hopefully she’ll be too drunk to remember this conversation.”

But it was out there, and I’d had way too much beer to censor myself. “I can’t sleep with any of you!” Judging from the nervous glances at the mostly empty tables around us, my voice was just a touch high. I tried to tone it down. “You’re my friends. I can’t…”

Bart patted my back. “Don’t think about it, honey. Just write it off as Davey being an asshole.”

“He is an asshole.” Jason glared at Davey.

Davey glared back. “Bite me, redneck.”

“You know what, when was the last time you even had a girlfriend?” Jason bristled, puffing his chest out toward Davey.

Who was not impressed. He tipped his head, scoffing. “I am not going to justify myself to you.”

“That hard up, are you? The porn you look at all day getting to you?”

“Yeah, keep it up. You wish you had the brains to do my job.”

“Brains? It doesn’t take brains…”

The conversation, such as it was, deteriorated. I tuned it out, glancing surreptitiously at the others, only to find them quite studiously not looking my way. We were going to let Davey’s unexpected offer go, then, were we? Okay, that was good. Fine by me.

I think.

*************************

Click here for the main One For The Team page

Almost too late . I’ve got 5 minutes left until midnight Christmas by my computer’s clock. Sorry for the delay but the other image that I had going bombed and that tree in the back made this a looooonnnnnnggggg render.

Anyway, elfish sex. Enjoy. Happy holidays to you and yours!

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

Contrary to popular belief, this third book is not the last for the elves. I’ve got more in store for them, I just don’t know when at the moment.

BLURB:

Irin was raised among the raedjour–dark elves bred by their goddess for sexual pleasure. When Irin was a toddler, sorcerers cast a protective spell on her to quell the lustful urges of those around her. Under that spell and the watchful eyes of her protectors, Irin has a happy, if unique childhood as a human girl among all raedjour boys.

But she’s a woman now, and it’s time for the spell to be lifted. It’s time for her to find out what it means to be taken and mastered by the raedjour – and to find her truemate among them.

Savous and Radin. Apprentice and master. They’ve been a pair for centuries and have helped to watch over Irin her whole life. There’s no doubt in either of their minds that one of them will be the first to introduce Irin into the world of sexual pleasures.

But there’s more to Irin than anyone knew. Will her passion be the destruction of the lifelong bond between two men? Or the salvation of an entire race?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be used, pleasured…and be the salvation of an entire race?

*****************************
©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Radin hovered back, allowing other men to vie for Irin’s attention. He watched, amused, as they would gain her attention and slowly step into the shield, only to be shoved back when another snagged her fancy. It was a well-known game, and most of those who took the first try knew they weren’t likely to win. But, by showing an interest, they made themselves known to Hyle, who would likely remember and put them on the list of Irin’s lovers. Also, they helped to fan the flames of Irin’s lust, which spread out to affect the audience.

The initial onslaught subsided in good-natured rivalry as the men jostled for attention. Only one fight broke out, and it was minor.

Gradually, the more serious contenders stepped in. These were older men in their prime, far more intent on actually accomplishing the goal of the virgin. Radin watched these carefully. These men were more vocal and far more seductive, calling to Irin and murmuring dark promises. Radin had to smile at the becoming blushes that heated Irin’s round cheeks. Likely she’d heard it all before, but never aimed at her.

Still Radin waited, watching closely. He could feel her growing arousal. The virgin spell let everyone in the vicinity feel it. Behind Radin on the viewing platforms, already dozens of couples — and more — were engaged with each other, no longer interested in the outcome of the virgin contest.

Three men remained. Each one of them had succeeded in getting her attention enough that, at different times, they’d stood on the platform.

Radin stepped forward. He was off to her left, so she didn’t immediately see him. She lay mostly on her back within the pillows, eyes fixed on Khavya as he stepped carefully onto the platform, murmuring sweetly. The man’s hands slid over his chest, drawing her gaze to his tight-fitting trousers.

With a casual gesture, Radin reached up and released his hair from its tie, making sure to let it fly. By shaking it out, he caught her attention. Khavya cursed and stumbled as the shri pushed him back to the border.

Irin’s big blue eyes fastened on Radin’s smiling face. Her pupils were wide, and her breath came in short pants. He wondered if she realized that her hips were squirming. Her hands pressed a little too hard in her lap. The scent of her was intoxicating.

He let his hair fall forward to obscure most of the left side of his face, peering at her through the long white fall he knew she adored. “Hello, kitten.”

*****************************

Click here for the main Dark Elves III: Salvation page

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

Suzana has lost all she held dear–her family dead at sea, she, a musical mage of noble birth, has been taken by slavers. Alone, bereft, she can do nothing but mourn. But then the traders’ caravan is overtaken in the Dark Forest by the mysterious raedjour who are determined to take the one thing she still calls her own: her body.

Suzana’s capture is cause for celebration amongst the raedjour–virgins are highly prized, and a tournament is held for the honor of taking her maidenhead. And once it is taken, she will be passed to a different warrior every nine days until she finds her truemate.

From the moment he saw her, Krael knew Suzana was his to conquer. Her soft body incites the lust he’s honed over many cycles to pleasure and train women. He’ll have her body, yes, but he has no interest in being her truemate. Until another, Krael’s king, is determined to take her, then Krael grows determined to master her for his very own.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be used, pleasured… Mastered?

*****************************
©2005 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Suzana ran. Shadowy branches reached out to grab her and rocks burst forth from the ground to trip her. She fell often, but picked herself up and continued.

Stupid! She railed at herself, even as she continued. She had only the scant clothes on her back, no food and no survival skills. She did not have the key to the belt around her waist. Nor was her body fit for such exercise. She fully expected a huge, wild animal to come crashing down on her at any moment and end her life.

In fact, she welcomed the idea. Her entire family was gone. Everyone she had loved. Gone in a shipwreck she had somehow managed to survive. By rights, she should be dead as well. Deep in the depths of Lir’s watery embrace.

She stumbled again, fell to her face and tasted dirt. Stunned, she lay for a moment, catching her breath. Her fingers dug into the scrabbly grass as she tried desperately to think what to do.

Weight descended on her. She screamed, instantly struggling, but went nowhere. Shadows encased her wrists, pinning them to the ground and a solid mass straddled her hips, imprisoning her without smothering her.

Her screams stopped abruptly when a sheet of white came hissing down from the shadow above her. Shocked, she watched it catch the scant moonlight, glowing faintly blue as it curtained her and the shadow above her.

A dark chuckle sounded over her head. “Caught you, little one,” said a voice that resonated in her very spine. Slowly, she twisted her neck to see his face, which loomed just above her left ear. Even in the meager light, she could see his strong features and she could just make out the lightning tattoo that criss-cut his features. He smiled, flashing white teeth from between ebony lips.

Suzana felt her existence halt. Her entire self lost itself in those eyes, eyes she was suddenly obsessed with seeing in the light so she could know their color. Her body heated and reality faded away. Her nostrils filled with the strangely exciting scent of him, unlike any other male she had ever encountered.

His grin faded, burned away by the heat of his gaze. In one swift, sudden move, he backed up and flipped her over. Before she knew what had happened, the length of her front was pressed against the hard mass of his body. Only her clothes separated them as he was gloriously bare from the waist up. Instinct rolled her hips to rub her aching center against his flat belly, the short tunic riding up her hips. But the horrid metal of the chastity belt covered her pleasure and denied her the touch she sought.

“What’s you’re name?” he demanded, the fingers of his big hands spearing the hair at either side of her head to force her to face him. Not that she wanted to look away.

“Suzana,” she breathed, fascinated by one, short stray lock of white that drifted down from the crown of his head to caress her cheek.

“Suzana,” he rumbled, bending his head to seal their lips.

Suzana had never been kissed. Not like this. Not by a man. Even her suggested suitors back home had only kissed her cheek or hand. No man had ever before crushed his mouth to hers, stolen her breath by inhaling it himself.

He pulled back slightly, “Open your mouth.”

She did, more out of surprise than anything else. Instantly, his tongue plunged in, shocking a groan from deep in her chest. She pulsed upon hearing an echoing purr from him. He took from her and she could only lie and accept. And enjoy. Oh, he tasted good!

Her hands sailed up the slick skin of his arms to find the wealth of hair that hung from his head. Gods of Water, he smelled good! His calloused hands slid from her face, down her sides, to command her hips. His fingers slid in under the metal panel between her thighs, stroking her dripping core. Her gasp was lost in his groan.

“Krael!”

She heard the voice only distantly. Her hands had filled themselves with silky white hair, clutching it near his head as his fingers struggled to enter her body.

“Krael!”

Abruptly, he tore from her. Eyes open, she shuddered at the fierce growl that vibrated in his chest, matched by the snarl on his upraised face.

He was beautiful!

“Krael, you can’t take her like this.”

Again the snarl as he glared at someone over her head. Someone she irrationally hated for interrupting their tryst.

“Leave off, Radin.”

“I can’t do that.”

Krael growled, his lips peeling back from his teeth just like a caged black jaguar she had once seen. Unable to help herself, she whimpered.

Distracted by the sound, Krael’s attention returned to her. He instantly forgot the other man’s presence, again bending his head toward Suzana.

Eagerly, she parted her lips, anticipating his kiss. Unfortunately, she fell unconscious before he could touch her.

************************************

Click here for the main Dark Elves II: Mastered page

Author’s Note: Gwen works swingshift in a diner and has cause to be glad of that one night

*************************************************

Gwen stifled a yawn as she poured another cup of coffee for the trucker. He didn’t notice, absorbed in his hunting magazine.

She shuffled back to the counter and put the stained pot away then returned to her own magazine. Jack, the owner/cook, didn’t mind that she read during the long nights. Just so long as she didn’t ignore the customers.

Make that “customer”. Single. One. She rarely ever had more than one table to wait on at a time in the graveyard shift.

The bells above the front door jangled and she glanced up. Boredom melted away at the sight.

There were two of them. Young. One was tall enough that his square head almost brushed the top of the door as he passed through. She wasn’t too sure his cropped blonde hair didn’t brush the lintel. He was thick like a workman, not like one of those office-types who worked out in a gym between cell phone calls. The other was shorter but only by comparison. He probably topped her height by a few inches, and she’d never seen a more gorgeous man. He was beautiful more than handsome. “Chiseled” popped to mind, probably from her reading too many romance novels. His black hair was wavy and damp, like he just came from swimming or something.

They glanced her way with similar smiles of “hey” then took a booth toward the back of the diner, away from the front and away from the counter. Back by the rickety old jukebox Jack kept around for “nostalgia”.

Wiping suddenly sweaty palms on her polyester skirt, Gwen grabbed two plastic-coated menus and the coffee pot and headed back.

“Hey,” she said, her voice far too shy and soft for her liking. But Angel-Face–as she’d dubbed him in her mind–took her breath away.

“Hey,” said Big Guy.

“Hi,” purred Angel-Face.

“Gotta warn ya that the grill’s about to close,” she said, looking at Big Guy to settle her nerves. Didn’t quite do it. He was a looker too, just not as pretty as Angel-Face. “So if ya want somethin’, I’ll need your order quick.”

They scanned the menus and ordered normal, late-night fare. Big Guy wanted a burger with everything, Angel-Face a club sandwich. Both wanted Cokes and a side of fries.

Turning from them, she started to breathe again. She became terribly aware of how she looked from behind because she could feel their eyes on her. Blue for Big Guy, deep brown for Angel-Face. She walked slow and fought the urge to run.

She gave the order to Jack, who grumbled. But he put down his Hustler mag and dutifully started. Two sharp he shut down the grill, and it was only 1:50.

Taking their Cokes to them turned out to be an ordeal. She’d never had trouble with full glasses before, but two pairs of eyes seemed to throw off her balance. She did slosh one of the glasses as she set it down. Angel-Face’s.

“I’m sorry,” she said, whipping the rag from her apron belt.

“‘Solright, beautiful,” he said, wiping his hand with a napkin as she sopped up the table.

Beautiful? Her eyes went huge before she could stop them, and they landed on his. He smiled.

“It’s late. You probably had a long day.”

Catching herself, she tried to smile it off. She wasn’t the type to be nervous around strangers. She did it all night and during her day job at the library at school. Why couldn’t she handle this.

“Still,” she said simply, “I’m sorry. Did I get any on you?”

He stood and she fought not to jump back. Since he was staring crotch-ward, she had to as well. There was a wet spot on his jeans, right near a real nice looking bulge.

Her cheeks went red. “I’m real sorry,” she said again, wringing the rag in her hands. “I…”

What? Sorry, mister, just let me wipe that up… with my tongue, just didn’t sound right.

“No big deal,” he said. “I’ll just take myself to the john. Where is it?”

Mortified, she pointed to the door on the other side of the counter and tried not to watch him saunter off. Big Guy had a shit-eating grin on his face when she turned back. He’d seen the reaction Angel-Face hadn’t when her face was down turned.

“I’ll get another Coke,” she breathed, grabbing the offending glass and escaping.

By the time Angel-Face came back, she’d replaced the glass and was back behind the counter, feigning disinterest behind her magazine.

The trucker left right after she served up the burger and the sandwich, leaving her alone with them. Jack was in the back, but she knew that nothing but a scream of bloody-murder would bring him out front.

She put out the Closed sign after the trucker.

“We need to hurry?”

She spun faster than she wanted. Big Guy’s eyes were on her, brows raised in question.

“No,” she answered. “You’re OK. Jack and I don’t leave for another hour or two.”

He nodded and attacked his burger again.

Angel-Face had fed the jukebox so the all-too-familiar golden oldies that Jack liked rocked her through her minimal cleanup routine. The loose chairs were upended on the four tables. Nothing else to do but wait.

“What’s your name?” Angel-Face asked when she went to get their dishes.

“Gwen.”

“I’m Dave. This here’s Martin.”

She smiled at both, proud of herself that she’d now mastered herself and was acting normally. “Can I get you anything else?”

“On the menu?” Dave–Angel-Face–asked wickedly.

Her heart jumped.

“A refill on the Coke?” asked Martin as if Dave hadn’t said anything.

She chose to ignore the comment and nodded to Martin.

He couldn’t… she decided about Dave’s comment as she brought the refill. He couldn’t mean something like…

She set the Coke on the table then lifted her eyes… and froze.

Angel-Face was sucking on an ice cube, real slow and suggestive. Brown eyes caught hers and locked while delicious lips curled around the melting ice cube.

“Thanks, darlin’,” said Big Guy.

She flinched as he took her hand but couldn’t take her eyes off Angel-Face until she felt lips on her palm.

Wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, she stared at Big Guy as he pressed light kisses across her palm and fingers.

“Uh…” she managed, just as he gently sucked her index finger into his mouth.

Movement to the other side made her jump. Angel-Face stood beside her, indeed taller than she as she initially stared right into the V of his half-buttoned plaid shirt.

“Beautiful Gwen,” he murmured, reaching up to release her hair from his constricting net. It fell in wavy brown locks to her shoulders.

“What…?” she breathed, totally confused by the sudden, sensory overload. Angel-Face’s fingers brushed her neck just by her ear and Big Guy’s tongue had captured two more fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Want us to stop?” That from Big Guy, who’d extracted her fingers to speak. She looked down at his impish grin. He hadn’t released her hand, his thumbs firmly massaging the pad of her palm.

“Stop? What?” She didn’t understand. This didn’t happen to normal people. This happened in Jack’s Penthouse forum or something. “Jack!” she breathed, head whipping around toward the kitchen entrance.

“Boyfriend?” asked Angel-Face, slipping an arm about her waist to pull her close. Jean-clad thighs pressed her pantyhose-clad ones.

“No,” she said too quickly. Not until they started again did she realize they’d both hesitated.

“He likely to come out any time soon?” The soft voice was right in her ear, breath caressing. Was that a tongue outlining her ear?

“Well… no.” What was she saying?! What was happening?

A chuckle in her ear was stereo to the one in the vicinity of her hand. She felt a big hand on her free thigh. Big Guy had spread his ministrations.

“Say the word and we’ll stop,” said Angel-Face. Gently, he cupped her chin with a finger and turned her face to his. Up close, it was no less stunning. “I promise you that, beautiful Gwen.”

“But… Why?” she asked, incredulous.

He chuckled again and the other’s hand on her thigh was now fully under her skirt, on the inside of her thigh.

“Call it, appreciating beauty.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

His only answer was to lay claim to her lips. Quite understandably, she melted. His kiss alone would have done it. But the kiss, along with his body pressed to hers, along with the fingers that were brushing the hot dampness between her legs would have melted a rock.

Is this happening? She knew she was being redundant, but this was incredible. Two gorgeous men who she didn’t know from Adam were actually seducing her.

Releasing her lips, Angel-Face–she couldn’t think of them with their real names for some reason–managed to spin her around so that her back was to their table. With Big Guy’s help, he sat her back. The napkin dispenser and other sundry were gone. When had they moved them?

Big Guy was on his feet now as Angel-Face slid back onto his bench. Angel-Face claimed her lips again, this time with her willing cooperation. She was distantly aware of Big Guy removing her shoes then sliding his hands up under her skirt again. Soaking panties and pantyhose went together to his strong tugs. Angel-Face’s nimble fingers opened the buttons of her top and tugged it open to cup a bra-clad breast.

With a gasp she stiffened, throwing her head back away from Angel-Face’s kiss. Big Guy had full access to her pussy now and had buried his face in it. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but that did nothing for the ragged groan that dragged from her chest.

Deprived of her lips, Angel-Face wasted no time in claiming her breast. The strap and cup of one side of her bra were shoved aside to give his lips and teeth access to the bud of her nipple.

Big Guy was wonderful. His tongue was quick and steady, circling her clit. His big, lantern-jaw was shoved up against her hole. His huge hands shoved her thighs up almost against her belly to give him wider access.

“Fuck,” she heard herself rasp. She shoved her free hand–the one which wasn’t dug deep in Angel-Face’s damp hair–into her mouth and bit hard anxious not to scream and bring Jack running. “Oh God,” she moaned.

“Do you want us to fuck you?”

She blinked, hardly aware that Angel-Face was speaking the words to her, almost unable to understand English.

“Is that all right with you?”

She almost laughed, but it came as a groan as Big Guy shoved two fingers into her gaping cunt.

Angel-Face was asking permission! She knew in her gut that if she said no, they’d just go on pleasuring her without taking anything more for themselves. Men didn’t do that, did they?

“I swear we won’t hurt you,” he rasped, finger’s pinching her nipples, “but we’d dearly love to fuck you.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please.”

He grinned down at her, then bent to kiss her thoroughly.

That’s when the first orgasm hit. Her hips pumped relentlessly into Big Guy’s face, but he rode it like a pro, tormenting her aching little nub the entire time with his tongue.

When it subsided, she lay limp, panting. She’d never come so viciously before, and from the looks of them, this was just the beginning.

Big Guy straightened and started unbuttoning his fly. She gasped at the sight of him, hard as a rock and bigger than any of the boys she’d been with. Angel-Face’s attention was back on her nipple but one free hand was lightly teasing her clit. Her eyes were all for Big Guy, however, as he rolled a condom onto that huge rod of his.

Angel-Face slid away from her and out the booth as Big Guy positioned himself between her legs. She missed her other lover, but this one was enough to fill her attention. Again her head lolled back, this time as his cock slowly, deliciously entered her dripping folds.

He sighed, his eyes rolling back into half-mast lids, for all the world as though he were entering heaven. The first thrust was slow, as were the second and third, but the fourth started a grueling rhythm.

Boys and men, she decided, are quite different. Boys didn’t have time to pay much attention to you, trying too hard to figure out their own needs. But this man, although young, knew what he was doing.

Huge hands grasped her hips, controlling the rhythm. She was slammed into him, pelvis to pelvis, and she was quite sure that his cock was halfway up her throat. She gripped his bulging arms for balance, and enjoyed the ride.

What seemed like glorious hours later, she felt it building. One of his hands had moved down and was now fingering her clit, adding more stimulation that she didn’t need but greatly welcomed.

Her back arched and she came, inner muscles clenching. A few thrusts later, his ragged groan told her he followed. She made hers last somehow until he sagged atop her.

Sweet, butterfly kisses were planted on her chest as he recovered. Before lifting his bulk from her, he actually thanked her and planted the sweetest of kisses on her lips.

As he staggered away, sated, she saw Angel-Face behind him, waiting.

He’d taken down one of the diner chairs and sat facing the booth. His jeans were bunched around his ankles and his hand was languorously pumping a hard-on every bit as big and thick as Big Guy’s. Brown eyes met hers and he crooked a finger of his free hand at her.

Smiling despite herself, she gathered herself off the table. Her groin was deliciously sore and she didn’t think she could take more stimulation, but she couldn’t let such a gorgeous man go unsatisfied, could she? That’d be very ungrateful after all they’d done for her.

He cracked open a condom and slid it on as she made her way slowly to him. Her legs were quite wobbly. Surprisingly, Big Guy appeared at her elbow to guide her. She grinned up at him foolishly.

By the time she stood before Angel-Face, his delicious erection was shrouded in condom. With a bit of maneuvering, and little help from Big Guy, she straddled him, sheathing that marvelous cock inside of her.

His arms were wonderfully strong about her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying his face in her neck, and went to work.

She’d only ever been on top once and it hadn’t been a glorious experience. This, however, was heaven. She worked to position him just right, so that the friction caught just the right spots. She was amazed she could hold all of him.

They moved together in glorious unison. At one point, she caught his mouth with hers and plunged her tongue into the deep recesses of his mouth, fucking him even as he fucked her. She gripped the back of the chair and slammed herself on him, his groans only egging her on.

Engrossed in her work, her orgasm caught her off-guard and she hardly recognized her groan as her own. Waves of heat burst from her belly and streamed down her legs. Her muscles clenched so hard, she heard his ragged repetition of “fuck, fuck, fuck!” as his face screwed thanks to his own orgasm.

They sat together for long moments, just breathing.

He recovered before she did, tilting his head to kiss her sweaty forehead. “Sweet, beautiful Gwen,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

She giggled, quite content now with her two strange lovers. Opening her eyes, she saw Big Guy back at the booth, grinning as he waited patiently for them to have their time.

“Thank you,” she purred, stretching. She loved the gasp it produced from Angel-Face. Her pussy was still rhythmically clenching his subsiding cock.

Reluctantly, she stood. None too steady, she accepted help from Big Guy, who graciously helped her to re-arrange her clothing.

What now? she thought. Her belly began to clench, thinking of the awkwardness to come.

Her fears were alleviated, however. Big Guy, once he was sure she could stand, took her face in his hands and kissed her long and thoroughly. Then he grinned, stroked her cheek softly, released her and left the diner.

She stared after him, until Angel-Face gently turned her around.

“Better if we don’t talk,” he said, taking her in his arms as though they were old-time lovers. “We’re not from around here and we need to be far away by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh.” Part of her was relieved. Part was not.

He grinned, making her heart leap again. “Mind if we stop by here on our way back through?”

Her laugh exploded from her. “Not at all.”

“Good,” he said, laughing with her.

He kissed her and was gone.

– * –

When he came through to lock up, Jack didn’t notice that Gwen’s hair was down. Nor did he notice that her pantyhose were gone. She didn’t think he even smelled the heavy scent of sex in the air.

As she left the diner on the way home, Gwen couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. She’d never felt more beautiful in her life.