Camouflaged Hearts Anthology Read online

  Chapter Three

  Clayton hadn't known what to expect when he'd agreed to Jaynie's suggestion. To tell the truth, he wasn't the type for one-night stands, and for the last couple of years, he'd focused on his career and being a good leader. He hadn't left any time for a relationship, and that was intentional. Too many military marriages failed. It took a special woman to marry a man and the Army.

  Three years ago, he'd thought Sally might be that woman. They'd dated for almost a year, and he'd fallen in love with her sense of humour and insatiable sexual appetite. She was fiercely independent and dedicated to her job at an up-and-coming advertising agency. A match made in heaven, or so he'd thought.

  When she'd asked when he was going to resign his commission, they'd had their first big row. She said she couldn't be involved with a man who would likely be sent overseas. She had cried. Tears he could deal with. The begging had been another thing entirely.

  When none of that had moved him, Sally had thrown a piece of his grandmother's crockery against the wall. And he'd been finished with Sally. He'd put her in the car and driven her home. He hadn't answered a single telephone call or e-mail.

  But now ... Having a warm, willing woman in his arms ... He suddenly realised what he'd been missing during his years of celibacy. Body armour and munitions only went so far. There really was no substitute for a woman's companionship, and for exploring the softness and suppleness of her body.

  Sharing with Trent. Who knew? They'd done everything together since boyhood. Well, everything except sharing the same woman at the same time. And why not? They'd talked about it often enough. And to find a woman that wanted exactly that. What could be better?

  He held her, supported her while Trent cajoled a third orgasm from her.

  "I can't!” she said.

  "Oh,” Clayton whispered, “you can."

  She arched and moaned. His cock throbbed in demand. No way masturbating would take this edge off. He needed to be deep inside her pussy. Or her mouth. He'd settle for being in her mouth.

  Her body was becoming more compliant, and she was leaning on him more and more.

  No worries from him, though.

  He liked supporting her, holding her, kissing her, oh, right, and playing with her full, sensuous breasts. Her nipples were so responsive. The nibs were hard, and he was ready to have them in his mouth.

  She groaned.

  He squeezed her nipples hard at the same time Trent pulled her pelvis a bit more toward him.

  "Trent! Clayton!"

  She shuddered and shook. He grinned. This woman was going to be well satisfied before they even got her to bed. By the morning, she wouldn't be able to stand up.

  He couldn't resist a pleased grin.

  "I think our girl may need a bit of a rest, hey, Trent?"

  From his place on his knees, he looked up at Micah.

  "Yes,” she whispered. “Mercy. Please."

  Trent chuckled. The man was intense, that was for sure.

  Slowly, Clayton released her. “Do you have a robe?"

  "On my bed. Upstairs."

  He went up the stairs and headed for the first open door. Nice house. Naturally, it would be. He couldn't forget she'd paid ten thousand quid for the weekend. Which made him wonder. She was attractive and charming. She could have a ménage with any men she wanted. She sure as hell didn't need to write a cheque for it.

  He found a white, silky, frothy, see-through confection on her bed. This was a robe? It'd do little to keep her warm, and it would do even less to hide her charms. As if he needed his appetite whetted even further.

  He returned to the kitchen to find her leaning against the counter, a glass of wine in hand. Trent was pouring his second whiskey.

  But Clayton only had eyes for Micah.

  Jesus, she was desirable.

  Her big breasts were bare, her nipples still hard, the aureoles still red from where he'd squeezed her. Her breasts all but begged to be touched, held, cradled, fondled.

  Trent had his head buried in her crotch earlier, and now Clayton was finally getting a view of her entire body.

  Her hips were shapely, and the starkness of the black lingerie against the creamy softness of her thighs was startling. He'd never been a huge fan of frilly or fancy. He preferred naked women. But the sight of her could convince him to spend a month's pay on all things lacy and feminine.

  The patch of dark hair between her legs hid the secrets he wanted exposed. Better get her covered up, now. “Here you are, love.” He offered her the robe.

  With a grateful smile, she put down her wine and accepted the robe. “Your beer must be warm by now."

  "Small price to pay to hold you while you come. Again and again."

  She slipped into the floor-length robe and tied a knot at the waist. He'd been right, it was transparent. But the best thing? With the way it fell and the folds of the fabric, it made her look even sexier.

  It took all his self-control not to lift her up, sit her on the granite counter top and slam his cock into her.

  Instead, he picked up the glass he'd all-but forgotten about, and then he said, “A toast."

  "To?” Micah asked.

  "New experiences?” Clayton suggested.

  "Multiple orgasms,” Trent said.

  "Ugh. I'm not sure I can survive it!"

  They clinked glasses, and Micah laughed.

  "Hope we're worth your money,” Trent said.

  "Well ... So far."

  She looked down into her glass, as if to hide the furious blush that bloomed on her cheeks. Clayton wasn't sure he knew women who actually still blushed. He was captivated. “I'm going to kiss you again."

  "Do you know how bad I want to fuck her?” Trent asked.

  He could imagine coming home to her from a long deployment or even a long day. His groin tightened at the very idea. “You're going to wait,” Clayton said, “until I kiss her.” He plucked her stem from her fingers and put it on the counter beside his beer mug.

  And he did. Kiss her.

  She tasted of innocence and heat in one contradictory package. The wine was sweet on her tongue. Ending the kiss, he nipped at her lower lip. Maybe Trent was right. They could kiss later. Right now, his cock throbbed painfully, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait. “Upstairs,” he told her.

  "About damn time,” Trent grumbled.

  Clayton smacked her on the bum as she started up the stairs. She wasn't walking very fast as she took each step. One hand was curled on the railing. With the other, she held her wine as if for dear life.

  "You've given this some thought,” Clayton said, his hand resting proprietarily against the small of her back. He considered hanging back a bit so he could watch her arse as she climbed up. “How do you want to do this?"

  She almost tripped up the stairs. “Uh. I was hoping you gentlemen would lead the way."

  "I have an idea or two,” Trent said. “And one of them includes your mouth and my cock."

  When they arrived in the bedroom, she faced them both. “I have a confession to make before we go too much farther."

  Oh, oh. Like why she was paying for sex?

  She took a long drink from her wine. “There's another reason I agreed to Jaynie's suggestion. Why I wrote a cheque for ten thousand pounds.” After another fortifying sip, she then drained her glass.

  How bad was this confession going to be?

  She put down the glass, then combed her fingers through her shoulder-length dark hair. If there'd been any pins there, she'd have sent them plummeting to the floor.

  "I have a small problem."

  Warning alarms sounded in Clayton's head. “Go on,” he said.

  "We have condoms,” Trent said. “If it's an STD. We'll keep your secret."

  Her eyes widened and she blinked. “No. It's not like that. Well, you see...” She took a breath and in a single exhalation said, “I'm a virgin."

  "A virgin?” A twenty-something year old virgin? How the hell did that happen?
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  "I just didn't want to surprise whichever of you was the first to figure it out."

  She was a virgin and one of them was going to relieve her of that burden. Christ. He'd been in combat, and he doubted he'd ever walked ground that was more laden with landmines.

  "I hope you don't mind."

  "Fuck.” Trent said what Clayton was thinking.

  "C'mon,” Trent said. “We thought we were playing with someone who knew the score."

  "My mother was ill for a lot of years,” she said. “That didn't give me a lot of time for a social life.” She curled her hand around Clayton's wrist. “I'm not a freak."

  "No one said you were. Just...” This time, he was the one who ploughed his hand into his hair.

  "I took care of my mother for years. I want to live. I want to make up for lost time."

  "For God's sake, Micah. I don't go around deflowering virgins. We don't,” he corrected at Trent's scowl.

  "I paid you to do exactly that."

  "Sorry."

  "You're reneging?” she asked, licking her bottom lip.

  "Oh, no you don't. I don't take guilt trips, Micah. Don't even try selling me one."

  "Find yourself a nice boy who'll marry you and settle down."

  "I would if that's what I wanted.” She shook her head and dark strands of hair fell alluringly across her cheeks. “That's not what I want.” Then she boldly grabbed Clayton's penis. “That's not what you want, either."

  She was right on that score.

  "Or you,” she said, reaching for Trent.

  "Micah,” Trent warned.

  She let go of Trent and said, “Take off your clothes."

  Trent's mouth fell open. Two soldiers, both of them combat veterans, didn't have a clue what to do with one slight woman. Clayton would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious.

  "I mean it. I made a huge donation to fuck you.” She poked Trent in the chest and squeezed Clayton's cock extraordinarily hard.

  He winced. The woman knew what she wanted and knew how to make a point.

  "No STD's,” she said, “no hang ups. Now take off your damn shirt."

  Trent shot him a glance. “This was your idea, as I recall."

  "Good of you to mention it.” What a good mate, had his back, did he?

  Her eyes narrowed. “I could ask for my money back."

  "Lady, I'd give you every pence, happily,” Trent said.

  "I'd rather you kept your word, like a man."

  She couldn't have landed a more direct hit if she'd been armed with a map. Questioning a soldier's integrity?

  "You want to be fucked?” Trent demanded. The words were a growled warning. “It'll be my pleasure.” He yanked his shirt from his waistband. “What're you waiting for? Take off that piece of fluff, get on your back and spread your legs."

  "Bring it on, soldier.” She let go of Clayton's cock and moved toward the bed.

  "Unless you want to be fucked from behind. In that case, get on your hands and knees."

  "Hang about,” Clayton said.

  Fury flashed in Trent's eyes.

  And Clayton noticed that her eyes, which had been light blue, like a cloudless summer day, were now dark and stormy.

  "Never mind trying to defuse the situation, even if you are a munitions expert,” she said to Clayton. “I want you naked, too. I paid for the goods. Deliver them."

  The woman might not be military, but she knew how to take precise aim when she fired a volley.

  Despite her bravado, he noticed her fingers shaking as she undid the knot in her belt.

  Trent unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor. It clanked on the hardwood plank.

  Then he untied his boots and toed them off. He threw them; his socks followed.

  How the hell had a fun evening gotten so far out of hand?

  Oh yeah, Micah had questioned their integrity.

  She proudly, bravely, stupidly dropped her robe. It fluttered to the floor. Trent's trousers landed on top. He was in boxers and a T-shirt. Micah wore only her shoes, the garter belt, and stockings with a seam up the back. Did she have any idea what she did to him, how much it took not to ravish her?

  "Take off your clothes, Clayton,” she said. “It's no different than it was downstairs."

  "The hell it's not.” His own anger began to simmer.

  "The woman wants to be relieved of her virginity,” Trent said. He tugged off his shirt. “Should take about five seconds."

  Fuck.

  She knew what she was doing, though, knew how to goad both of them. Damn her.

  Her eyes were wide, but it wasn't with fear.

  She evidently fed off the intensity.

  In that regard, she wasn't all that different than him and Trent. Adrenaline was a powerful driving force. He understood why she was handling the situation this way. It beat fear and uncertainty. She'd get what she wanted on her terms, whether he liked it or not.

  "Clayton?” she said.

  What the hell was he supposed to do? Tell her to suck him off while his mate took her? Tension crawled up his back.

  Chapter Four

  She wasn't scared, even though she probably should be. She'd pulled the tiger's tail, and instead of running, she was standing there, facing him down.

  Instead, she felt more alive than she ever had. Her mother hadn't wanted Micah being a caregiver. Mum had wanted Micah to hire a nurse, go out and enjoy life while she was still young. But Micah's sense of loyalty and her pure love for her mother made that impossible.

  But now, she wanted every experience. Which was why she'd sky-dived last year and travelled to the Gobi Desert six months ago. Life was for living. And didn't she know it. Her mother had been robbed of too many years. That wouldn't happen to Micah.

  These two men, warriors, heroes, had morals higher than she'd expected. She'd believed men were interested in a quick lay, no matter the circumstances. That they so vehemently objected had shocked her. When it didn't appear guilt would work, she'd gone for the jugular, attacking their honour.

  To be honest, she admired their restraint.

  Had she been a man, she'd be sporting a broken nose by now.

  Trent removed his boxers. His cock was swollen, sticking straight out. It was bigger than she expected, much longer and thicker around. His balls were huge.

  "I said spread your legs,” Trent told her.

  She feasted on adrenaline and nerves.

  He was sexier without his clothes than he had been fully dressed. His chest was broad, his biceps cut with definition. He had a tattoo. Was it a dragon? Or something else?

  She opened her legs wider, leaving her more exposed, more vulnerable. And she wouldn't trade it for anything.

  He sheathed his cock with a condom, then stroked himself to full arousal.

  A low fire ignited in her belly. She was going to take all of that? Was it even possible?

  He climbed onto the bed and poised there.

  He began to ease his cock inside her. She was so dry, she winced.

  Trent froze, then he backed up. “You're not wet enough."

  "Let me,” Clayton said.

  Trent got out of the way. Still fully dressed, Clayton moved between her legs and began to lick her cunt.

  She writhed, responding to his touch. He was gentler than Trent had been, but just as sexy. She dug the heels of her shoes into the mattress and arched, seeking more.

  He gave it.

  She hadn't known either of them long, but she was relieved Clayton wasn't being standoffish.

  Her pussy was moist. Unbelievably, even after all the orgasms Trent had given her downstairs, she was close to coming again.

  Apparently realising how wet she was, Clayton climbed off the bed. Probably wouldn't be for long, though, as he was untying his shoes.

  Yes! So close to getting what she wanted.

  Trent got back into position. His eyes were intense, dark. His jaw was clenched, and a vein throbbed in his temple.

  He stroked
his cockhead across her clit. She arched, seeking more. Slowly, he gave it to her.

  "Tell me what you want."

  "You."

  "Tell me what you want,” he repeated, the words tight, as if forced through gritted teeth.

  "I want your cock."

  "Where?"

  "In my pussy."

  "Ask for it,” he said.

  "Please,” she said, gasping as he went deeper. “I want your cock in my pussy."

  Clayton, his lithe body naked, climbed on the bed. He captured her head and closed his fist in her hair, holding her fast. He claimed her mouth.

  She was overwhelmed.

  Sensation after sensation rocked her world.

  Trent thrust deep, tearing her hymen. Clayton swallowed her cry. Then he intensified his kiss. Slowly, as she adjusted to him, Trent began to move back and forth, pumping into her, then pulling back out.

  Clayton ended their kiss, then bent to suckle on one of her breasts. She couldn't take it. Couldn't think. Couldn't—She needed...

  Clayton sucked one nipple into his mouth and bit it while brutally pinching the other.

  Arching her back, she screamed.

  Trent stopped, letting her ride out her orgasm, grinding against his pelvis.

  "You like it a little rough,” Clayton said.

  "Yes.” She tried to turn her head away, but he wouldn't let her. He kept her gaze captive.

  "Tell me about when you masturbate."

  "I..."

  "We just took your virginity. No shyness."

  "I use clamps on my nipples."

  "Where are they?"

  "I—” She gave up. These two were as relentless as she was. “Top drawer of my dresser. Beneath the knickers."

  "Ever been spanked?” Trent asked her.

  Her eyes widened.

  "You use clamps,” he observed.

  "I've never been spanked,” she said, barely able to breathe as he began to move inside her again.

  This time, he felt good. She liked the way he stretched her and filled her, rode her.

  "You've wondered, though. About being spanked."

  "What is this, true confession time?"

  "You've got forty-eight hours. How you want to spend them is your choice. What will you wonder about next week, next year? Your choice if you want regrets."