For the Warmth (A Beyond Blood Short) (MFM Romance) (2 page)

But I never bothered.

Call me insane. I don't care. It was true, Kite was an assassin who was perfectly capable of ending my life and erasing my existence. I had no family, no friends. No one would bother looking for me.

Of all the people to make vanish... I would be one of the easiest.

Once, I'd hoped it was the letter—the proof for the world that this man and his friend were hitmen with a history—that would keep me safe.

Now, god...

What if Kite actually
wanted
me alive? He'd told me before that he couldn't promise me anything. Somewhere along the line, had that changed? Or was I just being irrationally hopeful?

This wasn't the time to think about any of that. Thinking, in general, was fucking hard. He slid his palm higher, dragging the hem of my shirt over my already rock-hard nipples. I could blame the cool air, but we both knew the truth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pushing the hand in my hair deeper. He had me pinned. “Marina, how are you always so beautiful looking?”

Blushing furiously, I tried to peer at him. Kite would have none of it, he kept me where I was with a mere tension of his forearm. “Don't say things like that.”

“What? That you're beautiful? That you're getting my cock so hard it might rip my shorts in two?”

Chewing my lip, I groaned. “Yeah, exactly that. God, you're too much. It's embarrassing.”

Chuckling, Kite kissed my jugular. “It's the truth.”

The truth. Well, he certainly made arguing difficult. The man ran his hands over my curves and tasted me so eagerly, he'd have won an Academy award if his performance was false.

A sudden, sharp suction between my breasts made me squeal. “What the hell?” I gasped, shoving against him with all my strength. He didn't budge, a living boulder while he held me where he wanted.

Glancing down, I saw the top of his head. I knew what he was doing, even before he pulled away and grinned up at me. “Well, do you remember now?”

Kite had given me a god damn hicky.

I wanted to shout, to slap him. Instead, I found myself laughing. “You asshole. All because I said the other bruise was from Jacob? I thought you guys didn't care about who did what to me.”

“I care that you remember what
I
do to you,” he said, finally easing his hold in my hair. My scalp tingled as he released me, standing there with a level of seriousness in his face that I hadn't expected. “Jacob and I might share you, but our experiences? The ones between you and me?” Kite's lips twitched at the corners. “Those aren't for sharing, Marina. Not at all.”

Sharing.
The word was so funny. But it spoke volumes about our relationship—whatever you would even call it.

Kite and Jacob... they were friends who refused to fight over anything. Their arrangement, a thing they'd made without asking me first, was that they both got to have me, or neither did.

The concept had blown my mind. Somehow, it was working. I believed them both; they would never fight over me. Not at all.

The issue had become less about them, and more about my feelings. As it should have, really. I mean, great for them if they weren't jealous about us all being together. But for me, coming to terms with being shared by two men? It had been terrifying.

And, I won't lie, fucking exciting.

The two of them had done things to me I'd never predicted. I kept expecting to break from it, to say they were too much. Yet... so far? Each encounter just made me ache for more.

That was the really terrifying part.

Kite filled his lungs with air. He was watching me, hands on my hips while mine hung at my sides. There was a line between us, a tangible string from my mouth towards his.

He bent to close the distance, but I beat him.

Crushing my lips on his, I coiled my arms around his bare shoulders. My thigh bumped into him, finding the hot, solid bulge of his erection. We battled the need for air, the window echoing when he bounced my spine off of it.

Finally, I broke away and stared at the fire in his eyes. “Idiot,” I said, my smile coy. “Of course I know this stupid mark is from you. As if I could forget who shot me where and when, I was doing my best to keep the tally so I could try and beat you two.”

His shock melted into amusement, eyebrows knotting. “Damn it, so you were trying to rile me up.”

Had I been? The thought gave me pause, and a confusing rush of emotions. Messing with Kite, trying to incite him... it ran counter to what was best for me.

For him...

For all of us.

Shaking myself, I went to speak—was cut off. Kite swept his tongue over mine, erased my worries. And I let him. I didn't want to think about anything serious or bad. I wanted to just forget it all, to be in the moment with this man who was a living razor blade. He could cut my throat and rip me to shreds, and still, I wanted him to hold me in his arms.

Hands rushed down my shoulders, turned me suddenly. My cheek pressed on the glass, the view stretching below me with the typical collection of cars and people. We were high up, and it made me feel like I stood on top of the world.

Behind me, Kite's hips ground into my lower back. Palms took hold of my ass, digging in fiercely—desperately. The heat of his breath burned on the nape of my neck almost as much as his words. “I've wanted to take you here, right here, since the first moment you walked through my door.”

I remembered that night; I'd been boiling with so many things. Not one of them had been fear. How
could
I have been scared? I was finally on the path to getting what I'd chased for so very, incredibly long.

But when I'd crossed the threshold into Kite's apartment... I hadn't expected this. He was a killer, and I had imagined filth or neutralness. Something that reflected a man who had to hide what he did—who he was.

Kite was nothing like I had expected.

So far, of the two men, Jacob had come the closest to playing the part of the silent hitman. He was cool, calm, precise. A man with so many plans and plots. But Kite was wild, a train without rails.

I was ready for him to crash into me.

Shuddering, I rocked my ass against him, felt him respond. Even through my jeans, his hard-on was obvious. “Can anyone see us up here?” I asked.

“Why, feeling shy?” His fingers came around, popping my button and inching my zipper down.

“Not shy,” I said. “Just... it seems risky. What if someone calls the cops on us, you'd get in trouble.”

Freezing with his fingers in my empty belt loops, Kite chuckled. “Shit, you're looking out for me?”

To change the topic, I yanked my shirt fully over my head. “Forget it, I'm sure I'm not the first girl you've done this with here. If you'd gotten busted for it, you'd have said so by now.”

Kite was quiet, and that heaviness sank into my bones. I started to twist, to check his eyes for a hint of what he was thinking. He kissed my forehead, then mixed our lips together so neither of us could say a word. So neither of us could do what we were so good at; fucking up this fucked up situation even more.

I had the sudden, most invigorating feeling that Kite didn't want to think about other girls. That was... encouraging.

I'm the one always wondering how neither of them can be jealous, but here I am, fretting over girls who aren't even involved anymore.

Anymore. I hoped that was true.

“Ah!” I breathed in sharpy. Kite had crushed my breasts into the cold glass, his hands brushing down to the indents above my lower back. He licked the back of one ear, then nibbled his way across my shoulder blade.

One hand ducked into the front of my pants, inching them down as he stroked just outside the edge of my panties. He knew what got me hot, lavished in driving me wild. That was fine; I knew he'd give in and take me all too soon.

We were both terribly weak.

Two fingers spread, curling over to cup my pussy through the damp cloth. My growl was very unlady-like, but who the hell could act like a “lady” in a situation like this?

“You're drenched,” he said, voice thick. “God, I need to fuck you so badly right now.” He dipped further, slid right over my slit and across my swollen clit.

I mewled, flushing with lust down my back as sweat began to form.

Kite inhaled, smelling me in the air. He said, “I bet I'll slide into you without a hint of resistance. Bet your pussy will spread for me and put out the red carpet like I'm a god damn celebrity.”

Then, he slipped under the elastic band of my panties and rolled right over my cunt, wetness coating us both.

I just... broke. “Stop playing with me, Kite,” I hissed, arching into him and trying to grab his arm. I wanted to force him deeper or force him away so there'd be room for his cock. Just... something. “Fuck me already!”

“Yes, ma'am,” he chuckled. “Guess I like seeing you squirm.”

“Fuck you,” I breathed out.

Kite ripping my jeans down, taking my panties with them. “I already said yes, no need to beg me twice.”

I was spread across the glass, my panting turning the surface foggy. This time, I wasn't able to write a name on it. I could barely spell my own, if asked. Kite rocked his cloth-covered shaft across my ass cheek. In a second, he adjusted, and the next caress showed his cock was now free to the air.

That sensation alone had me squeezing my thighs together. The heat was rising in me, demanding I do something about it. I'd grown used to the release Kite or Jacob—or both—could bring me. Now, my body was screaming for it; eager to be filled.

In his bedroom, a phone rang.

Both of us glanced that way, though Kite didn't stop his slow grind over my skin. He didn't need to say it; only one person would be calling him so early.

Jacob.

Kissing my neck, Kite kicked my ankles wide. “Ignore it,” he said, pushing the plump head of his cock along the softness of my inner thighs. “He'll leave us alone, trust me.”

Dizzy with lust, I just nodded and tried to get him to slip inside of me. “Dear god, you said you'd stop teasing me!”

“No, I said I'd fuck you.” Slapping me on the ass, the sound cracked the air; my gasp was louder. “And I will, just at my own pace.”

Screw that,
I thought, pushing off the window. Kite was stronger, he leaned into me and shoved my nipples back onto the hardness. “Come on,” I moaned, “You're killing me!”

Kite clicked his tongue, and I pictured him rolling his eyes. I had another comment, but it liquified the instant he angled his cock so that it spread my lower lips. We both heard the sound of my wetness. “Okay okay, jeez. So greedy.” His chuckle was close to cruel, but he was fracturing. It was on the edge of his voice, the husky way he said “greedy” and the speed of his breathing.

He was pushing into me, making me groan in delight, when the phone rang again. Both of us skipped a beat, thrown off by the interruption. But it didn't stop there. Before the ringing ended, the knocking came on the nearby door.

“Is he actually outside?” I asked, straightening.

Pushing my hair off of my neck, Kite stroked my throat. “The bastard is determined to get my attention.” Gripping my hips, he slid into me fully. Every inch of him stretched me, made me squeal; I hadn't been ready. “But you need it more.”

It was silly of me to think Kite would stop just because someone was at the door.

The ringing faded as my groans lifted high, cheek heating up the window. Below me, the streets moved as fast as the blood through my veins.

Knuckles rapped sharply on the wood, demanding we hear them. It was no shock when Jacob's voice came. “I know you're both in there, let me inside.”

I covered my mouth to muffle my sounds. Kite drew back, the tip of his cock just inside of me. Stroking my spine, he reached down and made a vigorous circle over my heated clit. His words turned me cold, though. “I'm a bit busy with Marina!” he shouted. “Come back later!”

“Stop whatever you're doing for a minute and open the door, Kite.”

“I don't think Marina would appreciate that!” Chuckling, he shivered and drove into me harder. I wondered if Jacob could hear us fucking, and wondered why I was blushing. He'd been there, involved, with the two of us before. Where was my shame coming from?

Kite's fingers swirled quicker, toying expertly with my engorged clit. The pressure of my mounting orgasm was rocketing at me, tickling the back of my tongue.

Metal clinked, and though I felt Kite hesitate, he didn't fully stop. I was confused by the sounds, but the combined jingles and crisp footsteps said it all.

Jacob had used his own key to get inside. Of
course
he'd have a key. I'd assumed otherwise since he always knocked and waited, but that was clearly him being polite. He had that air to him, this crispness and perfection in his manners.

I'd seen the other side, though.

I knew what lay resting under his placid surface.

Sighing, his steps brought him to our side. I turned my cheek, able to catch him from the corner of my eye. His reflection shined in the window. Jacob was dressed in his typical fashion; a silver vest, a rich, cobalt blue shirt that matched his eyes and made his onyx hair that much more stark.

He was as fit and handsome as Kite, and they looked similar in age—late twenties, at most—but Jacob seemed more mature, more refined. Wise beyond his years.

These two men were so different in every way, and yet... somehow they were the closest friends, a bond I still didn't understand.

“This is why you couldn't answer my call?” Jacob asked, sounding sufficiently put out.

Red as a beet, I closed my eyes—but Kite didn't spare me. Holding my fiercely, he slammed his length into me with new gusto. I shouted, then chewed my tongue.
He's doing it on purpose,
I realized. Maybe there existed no jealousy, but good-natured, male-infused competition?

Kite and Jacob had that in spades.

“I'm busy,” Kite said, spanking me once more. I saw Jacob arch an eyebrow. “Come back in fifteen, okay?”

“Fifteen?” he scoffed, linking his hands behind his back. “That's sloppy of you. But we're needed at the bar right now.”