The Anatomy of Jane (22 page)

“It’s only fair you taste her too,” I said to him while pulling on the leash. He followed and crawled onto the bed where Jane was now tied up again. Her legs were wide and her pussy was wet and throbbing for more.

“Eat her out good. Don’t waste even a drop,” I told him, and he bent over, giving me a perfect view of his tight, sculpted ass.

He sucked on her clit like a man dying of thirst. She moaned so loudly that it rang in my ears and her body partially rose off the bed. She yanked on the ties as hard as she could. Walking around the bed, I bent over and licked her hard nipple. My tongue rolled around it over and over again before I returned it back to my mouth. Biting gently enough, I got the taste of her.

Focus Wes!

Backing away, I had to take a rest. My cock was throbbing so hard I couldn’t concentrate, and sweat dripped from my forehead.

I yanked on the leash, and he stopped.

“Fuck her.” I needed to watch how he fucked her. Sitting up, his arms tied behind his back, the corner of my lip turned up as he tried to position himself. He tried to stick in, but either she was far too wet or he was too anxious. Reaching over, I gripped his cock and squeezed it once before helping the tip into her.

It was like he forgot how to speak; he had gone wild. The moment he was in, he rammed himself forward and her body jerked up. Grunts and moans poured out of his mouth and he slammed himself into her. The room was full of the sounds of his skin slapping against hers and the thick smell of sex rolling off them both.

I can’t any more.

The leash slipped from my hand, and I reached for the lube and coated my cock in it before climbing on the bed. When I undid Max’s ties, his free hands knew what to do.

SMACK.

I hit his ass as hard as I could just to see the red mark it left on his skin. Taking my dick, I rubbed it against his ass crack, allowing his cheeks to massage me for a moment.

Only a moment!

“Fuck…” I hissed so loudly and so hard, spit came from my lips. He stilled his ass to welcome me in. Closing my eyes, I savored that he was clenched around my cock. Putting my hands on his hips, I pulled out some more.

“Ahh,” he grunted, reaching out to grasp Jane’s breast as he rammed himself into her.

YES! I couldn’t stop. His ass was my mine, and I’d fuck him like that until the day I died.

“What time is it?” I asked, too tired to even lift my head off Max’s chest. My legs were over Wes, and I wasn’t even sure how we had gotten into this position, but I was too tired to move.

Max reached to the bedside table for his phone. “6:08 a.m. Shit, I have to be back at work in two hours.”

“Since when does it take two hours for you to get ready?” Wes inquired, and I could feel his chest rising and falling.

“I have a lot of sex I need to wash off me.” Max grinned, glancing over at him. “And wax.”

I laughed at that while running my hands through my hair. “We definitely need to do that again.”

They both groaned and forced me to look at them.

“What the fuck are you made of?” Max asked me.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Wes replied, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t mean now, you big babies.” I propped myself up on Max’s chest. “And here I thought I had two of the most capable lovers.”

“I bet you couldn’t find any better lovers in the world,” Wes stated; Max nodded.

Eyebrow raised, I looked between them and asked, “Should I try?”

Both of their eyes snapped to me angrily.

“Kidding.” I lifted my hands up in defense and they both relaxed. “I’ve decided something.”

Wes looked at me, confused. “When did you have time to think?”

“Somewhere between my third and fourth orgasm,” I shot back, and they both looked proud.

“Well, Ms. Chapman, what were you thinking of when you should have been screaming our names?” Max played with a strand of my hair.

“I’ll marry you.”

They both froze. Max even found the strength to sit up against the headboard, forcing me to sit back up.

“Come again?”

“I’ll marry you,” I said, stretching out my neck. “I don’t want any more rumors about you or any more jerks blackmailing you. So I’ll marry you, Maxwell…if you still want me to.”

He looked to Wes, who for some reason was looking pleased; I wasn’t sure why. Max was his, and yet he was just going to let him get married to me.

“Jane, I won’t lie. This will be helping me, but my family is messy.”

“I don’t have a family, so I’ll make do with a messy one.” He didn’t know that even with everything he had told me about his family already, I was still jealous of that. Having people to call mother and father, even if you didn’t get along, was better than nothing. “And then you two can actually go out.”

“You think so?” Wes asked, sitting up as well.

“I know so. We’ve all been together. Max, you aren’t gay, you are bisexual, but they don’t know you. With me around, they won’t think otherwise. You two can be best friends, bros, or whatever guys call it without worrying about anything else…but again, if you don’t want to…”

“I want to,” Max said, waiting for Wes’ response, which was to kiss the back of my hand.

“Thank you, Jane.”

“Why are you thanking me? I get to marry a millionaire husband and get a sexy lover on the side who cooks.” I smiled, shifting to rest between them. “I’m living the dream, gentlemen.”

“Then you’re welcome,” Max said, still trying to be an ass.

“So.” I lifted the sheets. “What round are we on?”

They snickered and rolled over to me, Wes in front, Max at my back. They were already hard again…and they were wondering what I was made of?

“Fuck me,” I demanded, and they didn’t have to think twice.

Wes slid down, kissing my chest and lifting my leg slightly before thrusting so deep into my pussy that I had to hold on to his shoulder. He spread open my ass cheeks for Max.

They were insane.

I was insane.

Fuck it. All three of us had lost our minds. We wouldn’t stop. We didn’t want to stop.

“Yes!” I cried out as Max entered me from behind.

Once again I was sandwiched between two men and it was even better than the first time.

God help us.

Chapter Fourteen

I couldn’t believe it had already been two weeks since I’d moved in, though at the same time it felt like it had been much longer. I spent my days being more of a maid than I had been before, butthis time, we all just coexisted. I’d also started to take some online classes in business management. It was Wes’ idea, but trying to find who I was outside of a maid was not as easy as I’d expected. Later in the week, I was officially coming out as Maxwell Emerson’s fiancée. We hadn’t done it instantly because, well, because they both said they wanted me to know them before everything became chaotic. I’d learned a few things in that time. The first was what was behind the door to the ‘secret room’. It was a room I thought could have been a sexual dungeon or Dexter’s kill room. Turned out to be a damn gym.

They didn’t want anyone in there because Max also had some unpacked boxes he needed to go through. One of them even had photos of Wes and him. Every morning they worked out together. It seemed harmless enough until I realized exercise was just another form of foreplay for them. They’d push themselves, sweat dripping down their abs and necks. Every once in a while, I caught one of them staring at the other. Eventually, they both stared at each other, panting from their workout, covered in sweat and horny. All of this equaled to shower sex…a lot of fucking shower sex.

Second thing I’d learned from them was that neither of them was ever too tired or sick of having sex. When Max got horny, Wes would stop everything to see that he got him off. When Wes was hard, Max was already on his knees. My poor heart could barely take it any more. They both just seemed to know when I wanted them. We’d fucked everywhere in the penthouse: in the kitchen, in the living room, and in the spare bedroom, which was supposed to be my room, but I was always in their bed. We fucked in the shower and while taking a bath. I was covered in hickeys all the time.

The third and final thing I had learned was that they liked me wearing as few clothes as possible. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a bra there…or panties for that matter. They wanted access at any time and who was I to deny them that?

“Your nipples are getting harder.” Max glanced down at me. We both stood in the bathroom and I was supposed to be brushing my hair.

“They do that,” I said, brushing as he cupped my ass. He did that now—they both did; they touched me all over randomly and I loved it. It felt like they were aching to have me back on their dicks.

“Don’t tempt me, Ms. Chapman, I’m—”

“Shit!” Wes cursed. “Of all the fucking times.”

I glanced over at Max, who was brushing his teeth beside me. His eyebrows rose as we both walked to the bedroom door. Wes stood there in his boxers holding a light blue striped shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked.

“Nothing.” Wes just sighed, throwing the shirt onto bed before walking into the closet.

“You are aware you’re going to need to lie a little bit better than that, aren’t you?” Max said, going back in the bathroom.

Wes didn’t reply. He just brought out more clothes, but he was far too tense for someone who had spent a whole day having sex. Walking over to the bed, I took the first shirt he had cursed at. There was a tear under the fold of the collar. Moving to my suitcase—which I still hadn’t bothered to unpack, partly because I hadn’t had a moment to do so—I dug into my purse. Readjusting the towel around my body, I took a step back on the bed with the sewing kit in my lap.

“What are you doing?” Wes asked me as I searched for the right thread color.

“Sewing your shirt.”

He paused, giving me enough time to string the needle.

“Why?”

“Why what?” I asked in reply, not looking away from the shirt in front of me.

“Why are you patching up my shirt?”

“
Dumb question.”

“Why did do you want to wear it?”

Again he didn’t say anything, but instead he ran his hands through his sandy brown hair. “I have an interview today.”

Max came out of the bathroom again with his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned on the doorframe. “An interview with whom?”

“
Time
magazine. I’ve made the top ten chefs in the country list,” he said as if it were nothing. Even Max was shocked.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, stepping forward.

“It’s nothing—”

“Bollocks,” I whispered, smiling to myself as I continued to sew.

He turned to me with the corner of his month turned up. “It is not
bollocks
. I don’t really care about the ranking or fame or anything like that.”

Max moved to look over the clothes on the bed. “So the reason you’re cursing at shirts this morning is…”

“
Who
is doing the interview? I just found out that Chef Névenoé is the one who will be interviewing me,” he said. I looked to Max. Max looked to me. Neither of us had any idea who the chef was, something Wes picked up on. Shaking his head, he explained, “Chef Névenoé was the sous-chef of Chef Dieudonné, the man who left me his knives. I haven’t seen him since then. Now he’s coming to my restaurant and sitting down with me—”

“And you’re nervous,” I grinned. I’d never seen him nervous.

“No, I just don’t want to look like a twat in front of my hero’s top student,” he shot back.

“So you’re nervous,” Max nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Do you want us there for moral support?”

“I’d rather not have a boner in front of him, thank you.” Wes glared at him, but before he could say anything else, I sat up and handed him the shirt. He took it from my hands and stared at it as if it were gold.

“M&J,” he said, looking at the small stitched letters I had put in the repair.

“Maxwell and Jane. I figured if you wanted us there, you would have told us earlier, so since we can’t be there physically, we’ll still be behind you…” My voice trailed off as they both stared down at me. It was so intense that I felt the need to swallow the lump in my throat. “Or maybe it was a lame idea?”