Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (33 page)

“We came for the Tunnel of Love, and that’s what we are doing. Dammit, Jackson, just get in!”

Jackson blew his cheeks out and stood up straight as though assembling his resolve. He shrugged and reluctantly lowered a leg into the wobbly craft. The metal rang out like a gong when his foot hit the floor.

“Huh, it’s all wet…” Jackson muttered.

“That’s probably part of the experience. A commentary on our culture’s… Oh nevermind. Margot?” Declan said to me gallantly, indicating I should go next. I squinted at the narrow bench. It certainly would be a tight fit, but in the dim light, I thought we might just make it.

Holding onto the rail, I lowered one foot, trying to feel for the bottom with my toes. Jackson kept his eyes politely averted from my knee and thigh, though I was acutely aware that if he would just glance this way, his eyes could slide right up the flimsy white dress I had worn.

Sure enough, as soon as my toes sloshed through the water in the bottom of the vessel, my shoe slipped and I tumbled forward, landing hard across Jackson’s lap. My hands flew out to break my fall, and Jackson instinctively opened his arms like he was catching a football. His breath whuffed out as our chests collided and he threw his arms around me. The boat rocked dangerously from side to side.

Instantly humiliated, I closed my eyes, hard, and tried to assess the situation. I wasn’t hurt, and there wasn’t any further to fall. But I had fallen right into his arms, and some part of my mind started cheering like the glee club.

Holding onto him until the boat settled, I tried not to feel the hard bulges of his biceps under his thin black t-shirt, or smell the musky heat of his breath on my neck. But it was inescapable. He felt just like I had imagined: firm, lean, and strong. In the dark, the whole scene seemed preposterous and implausible like a willing dream. I had a nearly overwhelming urge to lick the salt from his neck.

“You’re OK,” he murmured encouragingly in a tone that made me want to lay my head on his chest.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I muttered finally finding the power of speech. I tried to crawl backwards without tipping the boat again. A little voice warned me that I had to stop touching him, and soon.

“OK, move over you guys,” Declan called out. “Let’s get this party started.”

Oh geez,
 I thought as I pressed my knees primly together and tried to scootch as far over as possible. Declan slid in next to me as though he had done this a thousand times. He didn’t rock the boat at all.

“This will be fun,” he said to me in a low voice that tickled my ear. He patted my knee reassuringly. Was it my imagination or did his fingers linger just a moment too long?

A wave of disbelief surged in my mind, and I had to bite my lip, hard, to keep from getting the giggles. The situation seemed completely preposterous - three grown people wedged into a slimy toy boat in the dark. I was sandwiched between the distractingly handsome art collectors I was supposed to be impressing hunks. Bridget was just going to die when I told her.

Oh, girl
, I saw her say clearly in my mind, shaking her burgundy curls at me in disbelief.
You better check yourself!

The boat lurched forward and began to float to the dark archway at the far end. We entered a pitch black room. The water splashed darkly against the sides of the boat as we waited expectantly for whatever the installation was supposed to do next.

Suddenly a strobe started flashing, and a figure to our left dressed as Frida Kahlo or something lurched toward us with her arms out. Jackson flinched, sliding toward me, swearing. Declan laughed mockingly and leaned over me to punch Jackson in the arm. His shoulder brushed my cleavage and I realized that at least one button had come undone on my dress, probably when I fell.

My fingers flew to my cleavage to search for the button, but suddenly a fog machine went on. An invisible nozzle hissed and a huge billow of blue fog settled over us as the strobe light faded out. The mist descended with a cool, prickling sensation that covered me all over. Coughing, we waved the tendrils away from our faces. It smelled like the dentist’s office.

“Whoa, what was that?” Declan murmured, shaking his head. “Hey, maybe they’re going to drug us with some magical art school mushroom mist or something?”

Jackson sighed sternly. I was slightly gladdened to see that his patience for Declan’s attitude had its limits.

“Woooooooooooo,” Declan continued, unperturbed.

I tried to breathe deeply. Something about the cool moisture of the fog made my heart race a little bit. I tried to remember if I was claustrophobic. The boat wasn’t moving and I started to wonder what was going to happen next. I could feel the mist like little drops on my chest, starting to trickle down my belly, and I had the sudden urge to pull my top off so I could get a decent breath. Everything seemed to get very close.

“We have to start moving again,” I heard myself say. I started to count silently. 1… 2… 3….

“Whoa, there, Margot, it’s OK,” Declan said, turning his torso to me. He laid his hand on my thigh again. I saw the contact in my mind like an orange neon spark. The sensation took my breath away.

I found his eyes in the near blackness and looked at him. He was smiling slightly, I could tell, with his lips just parted. The light was so dim it was almost as though I saw him through the white snow of a poorly tuned in TV station. My blood was rushing in my ears.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I get a little anxious in close spaces.”

He nodded. “That’s cool,” he said with the patient tone of a therapist. “I get that too. No worries. Just look at me.”

I nodded quickly. 1… 2… 3…

He nodded back, but slower. “That’s good. Just breathe. It’s all fine.”

1… 2… 3....

My head felt like it was being filled with thick, throbbing wool. I heard my pulse so loudly, it was hard to hear anything else but I concentrated on the dim gleam of his eyes.

He squeezed my knee reassuringly. “See? Just breathe. Are you counting? Counting is good.”

“OK,” I answered. I could see him smile confidently.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered.

It seemed like forever, but I just counted to three over and over and watched his eyes. He never looked away. He patted my knee every few seconds and just breathed with me. After a while, the dense confusion in my head seemed to lighten up.

“Are you OK?” came Jackson’s voice behind me.

“She’s alright,” Declan said. “Just a little anxiety. But better now right?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, slightly stunned. I really was better. The wool left my head and my pulse receded to a manageable volume, replaced by an amazed gratitude.

“How did you do that?” I whispered.

“Our caretaker used to get panic attacks sometimes,” he shrugged. “No big deal.”

I grinned, amazed that the feeling had dissipated so quickly without the usual humiliation of a full-blown attack. No one had ever been able to talk my mind back from the ledge before, but then again, no one had ever tried. One of the perks of keeping to myself was the minimal contact with anxiety-producing situations. “That was a great trick,” I sighed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He patted my knee reassuringly, his fingers trailing up my thigh as he began to turn back to the front of the boat. Then he stopped, his eyes still locked with mine. I realized I was still staring at him with unabashed gratitude.

His fingers didn’t leave my thigh, instead he pulled gently, spreading my knees with a slow, tentative motion. My breath caught in my throat.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” he whispered, leaning closer to my face. His breath fell on my parted lips and I could taste a candy-like sweetness like pixie stix. He made my mouth water.

My mind reeled as he came closer to me. It almost didn’t seem real and I began to lean back. I felt like I was falling in slow motion.

His hand squeezed the inside of my thigh and then slid higher toward my panties. And then another hand touched my ribs, sliding around just under my left breast and over the top of my shirt, pinching my nipple through the fabric.

I gasped and turned to see Jackson staring at me silently. He bit his lower lip as his fingers kneaded my hard nipple through my shirt. His sky blue eyes caught just a tiny bit of the light and I could read the questioning expression on his face. Before I knew it I was nodding at him. I wanted to see what he would do. Would he continue? Was that the encouragement he needed?

Everything seemed to whirl in a tornado of sensations. Could this really be happening? I felt like I should ask something or say something, but I was afraid anything I could say would stop the train we were on, and my body really wanted me to shut up and let it just flow.

Declan slid his hand further up my thigh and started stroking the crotch of my white lace panties with his fingers. My pussy twinged and spasmed in response, unleashing a gush of hot juices that immediately soaked the fabric. I heard him sigh quietly, but I stared hard into Jackson’s eyes the whole time.

His expression grew more confident with every second. I felt like I knew him so well. Every tiny change in his face was as easy to read as a newspaper headline. He was responding to me, and I wanted desperately to see more of that. I felt like I’d been starving for that affirmation. As the desire grew in his eyes, my heart swelled with eager anticipation.

I almost didn’t notice Declan’s fingers sliding into my panties through the leg until he began lightly pinching the swollen nub of my slippery wet clit. Instantly I was flooded with lust and rocked back hard on his fingers. His ardent sighs filled the echoing chamber, and with every arch of my back, I saw Jackson’s interest inflame.

Every touch sent hot spasms through my hips and I pulsed shamelessly against Declan’s explorations. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Jackson. When I gasped, I saw him suck in his breath. I knew what that eager expression meant and had to take the chance.

“Kiss me,” I said softly.

Without another hesitation, Jackson ducked his head toward mine. He closed his lips gently over my waiting mouth as though we had kissed a thousand times. Softly at first, then with more curiosity, his tongue wandered along my teeth and lips, pushing my tongue back into my mouth so he could shove his in. I accepted his tongue eagerly and sucked at it lightly like it was a cock in my mouth.

Declan’s arm snuck around my waist and he lifted me up slightly. I submitted as readily as a rag doll in his hands. He yanked my panties over my hips and I heard his zipper go down, then felt the warm, velvety head of his cock nosing against my dripping, swollen lips.

I let go of Jackson’s sweet mouth the moment Declan flicked the head of his cock against my entrance. A moan burst from my lips and as soon as I heard it, I realized I had been holding it in for so, so long. All of a sudden I wanted to be filled up. My hips jerked back toward his and I threw one knee over his lap so I was half sitting.

Are you crazy?
 voices screamed in my head. Some other part of me tried to justify this all rationally, but the lust I’d pent up for so long threw all that aside and just commanded me to do it.
Just do it,
 it said.
Figure it out later, but do it now!

The boat lurched and wobbled as my weight threw us off balance. Declan slipped his arm around my waist and lifted me onto his lap decisively. I felt him line himself up with his hand, and then he impaled me smoothly on his rock hard cock with one movement. I could have wept with relief.

I missed kissing Jackson’s hot mouth, but the swollen dick that Declan jammed in me took my breath away. Instantly I was grinding on his cock, moving my ass in circles so I could feel every throbbing inch without tipping us over.

His hand reached around the front of my thigh and plunged into my pussy, rubbing my clit vigorously as he stuffed his thick meat in me. Explosions of lust went off in my clit and I knew I would come like a stampede in about thirty seconds.

But still I wanted more.

I looked at Jackson. His eyes glowed and he stared at me silently with parted lips. I wanted to feel him too, so I reached out and slid my palm along the front of his tight jeans. The swollen, hard cock in there made my heart jump. He was even bigger than his brother.

I had to touch him, but I was afraid the boat would tip. Declan grunted behind me as I wiggled my ass around his dick and he flicked my clit so expertly I bit my lip. But the hunger was growing inside me. I wanted everything and I wanted it right away. Not knowing how much longer we had on the ride gave me a terror of urgency. If I was going to see Jackson’s cock, it had to be now.

“Let me taste you!” I whispered as Declan rammed his dick into me from behind.

“What?” he asked, clearly shocked. “Here? Really?”

I nodded urgently, fighting the need to orgasm and trying to keep my voice from becoming a scream.

“I need it!” was all I could get out.

But that was enough. Looking around, I could tell he was trying to figure out the puzzle. How could he get his dick out without tipping the boat and drowning us all?

He half-stood in the vessel, dropping his jeans deftly over his knees. Then he slid over to be in front of me. The white cotton of his boxer briefs glowed in the leftover UV light. I could smell the waft of his musk and sweat rising up in the humid air.