Chapter Seven

Sloane eyed up the selection of dresses spread out on the bed. The blue was too tame—she'd look like a librarian.

The black was slinky and showed off her curves. It was also a micro-mini length. Perfect for a cocktail party where you're standing around with a drink in hand all night, but it made sitting difficult.

Dylan stood next to her, surveying the dresses too.

She gave him the side-eye. "What does one wear to a BDSM show?"

His gaze flickered to hers. "You really wanna know?"

Her breath came faster. "Yes."

"Handcuffs and an anal plug."

Her jaw dropped even as her butt cheeks clenched at the very thought of having something inserted in her backside.

Leaning forward, she snatched the red dress off the bed and whirled toward the bathroom. Even from inside, she could hear Dylan chuckling.

Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip. She could do this—push her own boundaries.

Her entire day had been about pushing boundaries, hadn't it? First by sharing a civilized meal with her ex. More shocking was that she mostly forgave him for the things he said to her.

Now Dylan was pushing boundaries even further by taking her to see a BDSM show. She had no clue what that would entail. To her, BDSM was whips and black leather, neither of which were her thing, but she was here to explore.

When she left the ranch, she couldn't say she didn't get her money's worth.

After casting off her clothes and donning the dress, she realized she couldn't zip up the back herself.

After she finished her hair and makeup, she'd ask Dylan to help her. She twisted her long waves of hair up and secured it with several bobby pins. Then she eyed her reflection.

Her skin was usually good, but stress had given her a breakout. She dabbed concealer over the two spots, used mascara on her lashes and added a bright red lipstick that matched the dress she wore to perfection.

For a minute, she considered accessories, but figured anything else would be overkill. The dress was slinky enough to stand alone.

When she cracked the bathroom door, she spotted Dylan sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in all black, putting on his cowboy boots.

A thrill of desire swept through her.

"Dylan?"

He yanked his boot on and stood. His stare cut over her from head to foot, leaving her prickling as if he was plucking at her nipples and fingering her pussy while his tongue was in her mouth.

He made a noise low in his throat. "If you don't stop looking at me like that, we'll never get to the show."

She twisted her body to reveal her back. "Zip me up?"

"Jesus Christ," he grated out.

She glanced over her shoulder. His stare was latched on the gaping opening of her dress, revealing her curves. "Won't we be late?" she prompted.

"Of course." In a few strides, he reached her. But he didn't immediately clasp the zipper pull and draw it up the length of her spine. Instead, he eased his hands inside her dress, around her ribs, and palmed her breasts while pressing his hard bulge into her ass.

"It's decided. We're not leaving this bungalow." He skated kisses up the column of her throat, raising a soft cry to her lips. Her body bowed under his touch, and the tiny thong she wore wasn't much use against the flood of arousal he caused.

"You're fucking stunning. Good thing I'm not onstage tonight. I'm going to eat…you…up." He bit into her earlobe, tugging lightly but with just enough sharp edges of teeth to promise her what was to come.

Her breath came in sharp pants. "I want that. I want you."

"You're going to have me too. Right after the show. Hell, maybe even during."

She gulped and started to twist to look at him, but he grabbed her hips and held her in place. She stilled while he zipped up the dress.

"Why would you be onstage?"

"Because I'm the best with ropes."

Her mouth dried out. "Ropes?"

"Yep. My nickname is Knots."

She didn't have time to process that. He stepped back and let out a whistle. "Goddamn. Every man in that auditorium is going to be hard as rock for you. But you're mine."

A shiver of need rolled down her frame and caused her stomach to dip. "Let's go," she said before she could change her mind and make him unzip the dress again.

The auditorium was the same one where Dylan had pushed his button for her. As she walked in, she glanced around at the other ladies, many of whom she'd traveled here with. They all looked much happier than she'd seen them on that flight, wearing glows that could only be put there by a Boot Knocker's talented hands, lips, tongue…and cock.

Dylan led her to a spot a few rows from the stage. Candles flickered, creating a warm ring of light onstage. She could make out various furniture too—a low stool and a wooden X.

Apprehension raced along her spine.

"I don't know if this is my thing," she whispered to Dylan.

He gave her a tender look. "Give it a try. If you want to leave, we will."

She barely sank to the plush seat when another man suddenly took the spot beside her.

She sucked in a gasp at the scent of the man she'd know blindfolded. "Shaw!"

"Mind if I join you?" The dark baritone threatened to peel her panties off without using even a finger.

Dylan paused, still standing. The men locked gazes. "Shaw."

Something unspoken traveled between them. Something Sloane didn't understand, couldn't make out, didn't want to contemplate.

Strains of low music filtered through the speakers, and spotlights lit the stage with an ethereal glow.

Sloane was left with no choice but to sit. When both men flanked her, she was highly aware of their bulky bodies crowding around her, giving her little room.

She was also far too aware that the dress she'd selected didn't offer much more coverage than the micro-mini black one. She crossed her legs and tried to subtly wiggle the hem down her thighs.

All of a sudden, a warm hand landed on her bare knee. She glanced at Dylan's long fingers on her skin and then at Shaw just to see what he thought of another man's hands on her.

His gaze ticked from Dylan's hand to her face. The dark glimmer in his eyes sent her mind reeling.

Luckily, she didn't have time to dwell on the meaning because the light onstage projected into the audience just enough to fall across her, highlighting her from the waist down.

Cutting her glance to Dylan, she saw the golden glow showcasing the stiff bulge in the front of his black pants. Oh god. Whether it was her turning him on or the anticipation of what was about to happen in the show, she didn't know.

On edge, she stole a nervous peek from the corner of her eye at Shaw too. She stopped breathing.

The very evident bulge in the front of his black jeans was one she'd seen hundreds of times.

What did these men know that she didn't?

Then the man stepped onto the stage, leading a naked woman by the hand and holding a paddle in the other.

How did one become a submissive for the show? Was it something a woman signed up for before she arrived at the ranch?

Sloane's pussy squeezed when the Boot Knocker led her to the padded bench and gently guided her to her knees.

From her seat, she could make out that the woman was trembling. When the man leaned down and whispered something into her ear, she rested over the bench.

First, he stroked her body, starting at her nape and trailing his fingers to the crest of her buttocks. The crowd seemed on tenterhooks, and Sloane couldn't look away.

He gripped the paddle and brought it against the woman's buttock. She issued a soft cry. He caressed the spot he'd struck and waited several heartbeats before spanking her again.

And again.

Soon the rhythm and sound of the paddle with the throaty cries of the woman riveted Sloane. She was so caught up in the scene that it took her a moment to realize what Dylan was doing to her.

His fingers worked up her inner thigh, his pinky probing her pussy.

Aroused, she let out a low moan. Then confusion hit as she realized that her ex was sitting right there, and he was watching it all.

She darted a look at Shaw just as his hand landed on her other thigh. The pressure of that hand traveling upward along with Dylan sliding his fingertip along the seam of her pussy had her flooding with want.

Had they planned this? If so, when? How could she just sit here and let them both touch her?

She let out a strangled cry and slid lower in her seat. Dylan took one thigh and Shaw took the other. At the same time, as if the pair was in total sync, they spread her legs.

* * * * *

Touching Sloane again felt so natural. It was as though two years didn't separate Shaw from her.

He kneaded her inner thigh, dragging the hem of her dress even higher. When the crotch of her panties came into view, he jerked his eyes up to Dylan.

Without words, they each reached for her. Dylan stroked her clit. She slid down in the seat enough to give Shaw access to her entrance. Through her panties, he applied pressure to her opening, easing her panties inside her.

She muffled a gasp. Need fogged Shaw's senses. Her scent hung in the air, and moans coming from the stage, and the noise of the paddle, echoed through the auditorium.

His entire focus was on Sloane. He never forgot this side of their relationship—the sex was never lacking, even toward the end when they stopped talking. God, he'd missed it so damn much.

Missed her.

He pressed his finger deeper inside her. Dylan strummed her clit, and she writhed against both their hands.

Shaw's cock was bursting with need. "Outside. Now."

As soon as he bit off the words, Dylan drew his hand away. He tugged down her dress, and Shaw grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet.

She teetered on her heels. Shaw latched his fingers around her arm and led her out of the row, thankful no one sat next to them.

Once they reached the end of the row, Dylan snagged her around the waist and hauled her at a fast clip out the door. They barely cleared the frame before Shaw couldn't take it another second.

He grabbed Sloane out of Dylan's arms and trapped her against the wall. Her body heat scorched him. His cock battered his fly for the chance to sink into the pussy he'd owned over and over.

One hand anchored her wrist to the wall. The other curled into her ass cheek, and his hips locked her in place.

Her chest heaved, those beautiful green eyes burning with the look of desire he knew so well.

"Shaw. Please."

Was she pleading with him to leave her alone…or kiss her?

On the ice, he prided himself in his ability to think quick and assess a situation. He used that skill now with Sloane.

He slammed his mouth over hers.

Kissing her was like sucking in the first gulp of air after being underwater for years. She gasped and cried out. His tongue plunged into the seam of her lips and tasted her.

"Fuck!" Dylan's low cuss came from only a foot away.

Shaw's focus was solely on Sloane. Feeding her his tongue in slow pass after slow pass, he gripped her round bottom just the way she liked it.

The ache in his balls tripled. He couldn't quit kissing her, and she didn't show any sign of slowing either.

Tough fingers dug into his shoulder, a shock through his senses to stop.

He raised his head and looked at Dylan.

"My turn," he grated out.

Breathing in hard pants, Shaw forced himself to nod and step away from Sloane.

Giving her up to another man should cut deep. It should light a blaze of jealousy inside him like it did when he saw her in Dylan's lap or he sucked her nipples in the barn.

That heat flared inside him, anger tangled with arousal. Knowing that she was getting the pleasure she needed—deserved—only had his cock growing harder.

Dylan cradled her cheek. She leaned into his touch with a soft sound of want. When he kissed her, Shaw's fingers curled into fists. He stepped closer, gaze fixed on their mouths moving together, their tongues sliding in tandem. Dylan rocked his hips into Sloane's, digging his cock into her pussy.

Fuck. Shaw shouldn't want to see another man making out with the woman that used to be his. Yet he couldn't move or even look away.

A thread of desire, darker than any he'd known before, knotted inside him.

Dylan tongue-fucked her mouth while grinding his cock into her pussy.

Shaw could stand no more. He reached between their bodies.

They broke the kiss. Both gazes swung to fix on him.

"She's got to be soaking wet with need. I bet her clit's hard."

She moaned at his words, confirming they were true.

He skated his hand up her body to cup her breast, and she arched into his touch.

"Get her to the bungalow." His throat clamped on what he was saying. What was about to happen wasn't something he ever saw coming.

Tonight, he'd share her with Dylan and give her orgasms she'd never forget.

Tomorrow, he would walk away.

* * * * *

Why did the bungalows have to be built so far away from the lodge? Every step that Dylan ushered Sloane along the stone path stole more of his control.

There were a lot of issues around claiming Sloane with Shaw as their third, but Dylan's mind had blanked to all the reasons why it was a bad idea.

Besides, she wasn't dragging her feet and she rushed just as fast as they did.

Dylan stopped in his tracks. Yanking her by the hand, he drew her into his body. She gasped and threw her arms around his neck, her tongue wild in his mouth. From behind, Shaw crowded in and delved his hand between their bodies. His long fingers skimmed the front of Dylan's fly for a split second, edging down the throbbing length, before he plunged his hand under Sloane's dress.

She trembled in their hold, kissing Dylan and writhing on Shaw's hand. Dylan knew the moment when his fellow Boot Knocker breached her panties and stroked her slick folds.

Her cry resonated, captured on the mountain breeze that always blew in these parts. Urged on by her sounds of bliss, he cupped her breasts, swiping his thumbs over the hard peaks.

"Oh yessss!" She leaned into his touch, and he clamped his fingers harder on her nipples, pinching and twisting while the juicy sound of Shaw's fingers in her pussy filled the air.

Dylan plunged his tongue into her mouth. At that minute, Shaw hit his knees behind her. Dylan broke the kiss long enough to watch their lover nudge her dress up and bury his face between those beautiful ass cheeks.

"Shaw!" Her stare lit on Dylan's, the depths confused but burning with desire.

He dropped to his knees too. Her pussy was at his face level, the tiny thong she wore barely covering her soaking pussy. He hooked his finger in the fabric and yanked it aside to thrust his tongue into her from the front.

She rocked forward. Then back. Moaning. Gasping. Her firm thighs were spread wide, and she had no care at all that they were out in the open, licking her ass and pussy in what was only a warmup for the promise of later.

Using his thumbs, he parted her pussy lips and licked the hard pearl of her clit. Her body bowed.

Shaw let out a growl. "I missed everything about this, baby."

Dylan sucked on her clit and then feasted on the juices gathering in her channel. His cock throbbed at the thought of Shaw giving her an anal orgasm with only his tongue while Dylan delivered one too.

She shook. Her fingers dug into Dylan's shoulder, and she reached back to anchor the other on Shaw's. When she gave a hard jerk, Dylan groaned at the same time she came.

"Yessss!" She swayed between them, and they locked her in place. For long seconds, she pulsated on Dylan's tongue. Her flood of juices brought another growl to his lips, which Shaw echoed.

"Taste her, Dylan. Taste her cum."

She shook harder at Shaw's words and then fell still.

When it was over, Dylan drew her thong back over her pussy. Shaw settled her skirt around her thighs again.

They continued on to the bungalow, but the hard steel in Dylan's pants made it damn difficult to walk. Once they reached the door, he had enough of holding back.

He grabbed Sloane around the waist and carried her straight to bed. Shaw disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard the water running. Seconds later, he was back, smelling like mouthwash and man, a combination that was lethal to Dylan's senses.

He wanted him. In his mouth, in his ass. He wanted to see his cock buried in Sloane.

She flipped onto her stomach. "My zipper!"

He yanked it down in one quick flick. In another, he had her dress on the floor. Shaw sidled up next to him. His shoulders shifted in a display of muscular beauty as he pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop.

Sloane lay on the bed, eyes wide, the pulse in her throat racing double time.

Passion and confusion blended in her expression.

"It's all right, baby. Dylan and I are good with each other. As long as you're good with what's about to happen."

She held out her hands to them. Dylan enfolded one in his own and gazed down at her beautiful face. She drove him crazy, and made him want to please her over and over again. To introduce her to the joy that he could bring with his tongue and cock. He'd only begun doing this work, but she was already opening like a flower.

Shaw took her other hand, chafing his thumb across her knuckles. "We both want you," he stated simply.

"And you're willing to…share me?" Her voice wavered in uncertainty.

He gave a nod. "If you want that."

Her breasts jiggled with her quick inhalation. "Together?"

They nodded.

"At the same time?"

They gave simultaneous nods again, and her gaze bounced between them.

She dashed her tongue across her full lips. "Have you…done this before?"

In the past, Dylan never had a problem admitting what he did for a living, involved other women, but something about Sloane made him wish things were different.

"One time."

Her stare darted to Shaw. Dylan could practically hear her unspoken questions.

He squeezed her fingers, drawing her attention back to him. With their fingers linked, he reached for his fly. One-handedly, he popped it open. His stiff cock bulged in his red boxer briefs.

Her lips formed an O.

Slowly, he reached into his briefs and withdrew his cock. The length was thick and straining with need, the veins bulging up the shaft. He squeezed, bringing more blood to the tip.

"You want my cock inside you, beautiful?" His voice was all grit and gravel.

She threw Shaw a look.

"Go on, baby. Take what you need. Show us what you want from us." Shaw's low words penetrated deep in Dylan as well.

Sloane tugged on Dylan's hand, pulling him closer until he tumbled into bed with her. His arms around her, he tucked her against his chest and captured her lips.

Knowing that Shaw looked on only made his pulse pound harder. His libido shot up to a new height.

Breaking the kiss, he looked to his fellow Boot Knocker, holding his stare while he guided her hand to his cock.

With a sharp intake of air, she curled her fingers around his erection and gave it a slow jack. He grunted, and Shaw closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his stare latched on to her hand pumping him.

In a quick move, Shaw stripped off the rest of his clothes and whipped out his cock. Sloane issued a soft coo, and Dylan couldn't resist pulling more from her by taking her nipple between his lips.

She arched into his touch, but her focus was on Shaw. The man's physique was perfection, the carved muscles of his chest and abs a display that many a lady enjoyed.

He cupped his balls in one hand and pumped his cock with the other, the rhythm matching what Sloane was doing to Dylan.

Shaw's throat worked. "You want to fuck him, baby?"

Her harsh breath sounded like tearing paper. "Yes!"

"Hold that thought." Dylan reached for the basket of condoms on top of the nightstand. He also reached under the bed and came out with a bundle of rope.

Her breath hitched. What was he going to do with that?

Shaw's teeth flashed with a grin. "He's good with ropes."

Dylan's eyes gleamed. "Both of you are about to find out just how good."

Her stare jerked between both of her lovers. Then at the same time, as if they had this planned all along, they moved. Shaw took her wrists and extended them toward the headboard. Her insides quivered as Dylan set to work binding her. He looped the rope loose enough that the hemp didn't chafe her skin, but tight enough to heighten her senses.

She tipped her head back to see just as he tied off the rope in an intricate knot.

Her breath came hard and fast. Her pussy clutched with desire and flooded with juices.

Next, he held up a condom to Shaw. "Put it on me."

"Oh god…" She shivered at the exchange between her men. Shaw took the packet from him. After he ripped it open and slipped it over his length, Dylan arched a brow at Shaw.

Then he stretched out on the bed and rolled Sloane on top of him. The ropes allowed her mobility to twist and turn, but she couldn't lay a hand on either man. They had all the control.

She straddled him, her pussy poised at the tip of his throbbing length.

When Shaw climbed on the bed behind her, he palmed her ass cheeks apart and slowly guided her down over Dylan's cock.