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Double Booked

Tessa Bailey


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6


Get More Tessa Bailey


Someone fucked up.

And it was clearly you. Work this week was a bear and you must have been distracted. Because only a woman being held together by caffeine and a prayer would book a date with two men. At the same time. At the same damn restaurant. Ah, the pitfalls of online dating. Several different profiles across the Internet have finally caught up with you, in the form of a clean cut, square-jawed cop...and a tattooed biker with a cigarette behind his ear.

They both stand—one briskly, one slowly—as you come to a stop between the two tables. "Uh, hey. Gentleman, there's been...quite an embarrassing mistake. You see..."

Cop gets it first, throwing a glance at Biker, before returning his sharp attention to your red face. "Jesus."

Biker starts laughing.

"I think it's for the best if we just forget this ever happened," you continue, wincing at he note of hysteria in your voice. "I mean, who could ever choose?"

The biker slides the cigarette from behind his ear, tapping it against his sculpted lips. "Who says you need to choose?"


Who says you need to choose?

Biker’s question is hanging in the air like a dense, dangerous cloud…one that floats forward and surrounds you. You should laugh off the blatant invitation, repeat your apology and leave. That’s exactly what you’re going to do, right? Only, Cop isn’t laughing. After his initial scoff, he has grown still, watching you under hooded eyelids, maybe even a little ashamed of himself for still standing there. Waiting. They’re both waiting for an answer and you’ve let ‘yes’ become an option because you’ve been indecisive too long.

Little by little, Biker has let go of his amusement, smirk fading as his gaze runs over your body, pausing at the hem of your skirt and scraping back up. He swaggers over to Cop’s table, jerking;  out a chair and falling into it. Then he drags the chair over from his vacated table, placing it between him and Cop. Your seat. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

Decision time. You’re hovering on the brink of something unfamiliar. But the way they’re watching you in the dark restaurant, silent among the low hum of conversation, bass pumping from the speakers around you…it places one foot in front of the other until you’re sitting between these two vastly different, outrageously sexy men, their energy and focus branding you the moment you’re seated.

Cop wraps his knuckles on the table, a quick punctuation, making your stomach flip like a tossed-up quarter. “I don’t do this. I don’t share.”

“You’re still here, though. Aren’t you?” Biker rolls his tongue around his mouth, watching Cop, even as his tattooed hand glides over your knee and holds, massaging with such possession, your pulse beats in a thick, winding manner. “I’d say you’ve been working around the clock. Haven’t had time for a woman in a good, long while.” His attention returns to your heating face. “And then this hot, young girl walks in, legs for miles, looking like she’d be so fucking sweet on your tongue… and you decide sharing might be worth finding out how she tastes beneath her panties. Sound about right?”

You watch the pulse at the base of Cop’s neck tickticktick, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watches Biker’s hand smooth up your thigh, stopping just beneath your dress. “Yes,” he rasps. “I want to know how she tastes. Right now.”

Maintaining his grip on your thigh, Biker twines the fingers of his opposite hand in your hair, tilting your head back and exposing your neck. Right there in the restaurant. You can hear the hiccups in conversation around you, the quiet murmurs. But it’s all eclipsed by the lightning strike of lust in your tummy when Cop releases a shallow breath against your throat, licking up your sensitive flesh and ending with a growl behind your ear.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper, squeezing your knees together.

“Sometimes a woman needs two men,” Biker says, his voice like blue fire, fingers twisting in the strands of your hair, setting off a demanding pulse between your legs. “Sometimes it takes two men to worship a woman the way she deserves. And you, baby…you deserve that, even if God knows we don’t.” Cop shifts and you feel his erection against the outside of your thigh. Biker’s hand moves those final few inches until his fingertips brush your underwear. “What’s it going to be?” He whispers in your ear.

“Will you let us idolize your cock-bait body one minute and fuck it like dirty dogs the next?”

“Check please,” you manage.


Whoa. Buddy. That was THE most intense cab ride of your entire life. Not only because you were crammed in between two men who radiate heat like furnaces, their fingertips brushing up and down your legs, lips gliding over your bare shoulders, but because you’re pretty sure this is going to be the fastest orgasm of your life. Of anyone’s life, actually. At one point, you met the cab driver’s gaze in the rearview and swore he winked at you. As though you’d entered some alternate universe where everyone is in on a naughty secret…starring yours truly.

After an equally tense elevator ride, you’ve let the clean-cut cop and rough-and-tumble biker into your apartment where—thank God—your roommate is not present and won’t be home until tomorrow night. Barely giving you a chance to set your keys down, Biker approaches from behind, drawing you back against his chest. You smell the leather of his jacket, the hint of tobacco and mint on his breath. His hands are the rougher of the two men, calloused from the handlebars of his bike. They abrade your wrists as he draws them back, securing them at the small of your back with a firm grip. His prisoner.

Which is kind of ironic, since there’s a professional prisoner-taker on the scene and speaking of which…incoming. His boots tread heavily on the wood floor as he saunters close. Thud thud thud. Wait, that’s your pulse where it has decided to live inside your throat, beating mercilessly. Because you thought Cop was hot in the restaurant, but since entering your apartment, he has taken off his jacket, revealing bazookas for biceps and to say they are distracting is NOT an understatement, because they are battling against the huge erection in his jeans for your focus.

Where do I look? What’s he going to do? What are THEY going to do?

Behind you, Biker begins a concentrated attack on your neck, scoring the skin with his teeth, licking over the sore spots he creates as if you’re made of the world’s finest chocolate, groaning with every taste. You want to reach back and hold his head, keeping him at that deliciously sensitive spot behind your ear, but your hands are bound and he has no problem reminding you, tightening his hold with authority.

The distance between you and Cop has finally vanished, but right before his lips lands on yours, he stops, breathing heavily less than an inch from your mouth. His powerful hands tease the hem of your dress, before he begins giving you a full-on massage, climbing the sides of your thighs with aggressive strokes of his thumbs.

“Tell me something about you, sweet girl. Something that’ll help me fuck you right.”


“Tell me something about you, sweet girl. Something that’ll help me fuck you right.”

Biker actually has to hold you up because that command from Cop steals the strength in your knees, but his laugh against your neck isn’t taunting, it’s gruff and admiring. Just to buy yourself some time to recover, you whisper, “You first,” to Cop, breaking off on a moan when his caressing hands find your hips beneath your dress and squeeze.

Cop appears hesitant for a moment, but finally leans in and grazes your lips with his coarser, more masculine ones, his stubble rasping on your chin. “With my job, I have a hard time getting anyone to stick around. Too many times I’ve gotten sucked into a job and…come home to find the place empty.”

There is so much remorse in his deep timbre that sympathy makes your chest burn. As though Biker senses your sudden impulse to soothe, he allows you enough movement to go up on tiptoes and lean into Cop, taking his mouth in a slow, rhythmic skating of tongues, kicking up a storm of growls from both sides, both men, sending a vibrating hum through your already heightened senses.

You sense the scales are imbalanced now that only one of these men has made a confession…and you don’t like that feeling. Don’t like the uneven breathing from Biker, as if maybe he’s built a head of steam, trying to convince himself he doesn’t want to share. But you can feel he does. It’s crazy, but you can. You’re the one who evens the weight between the three people in this room, aren’t you? think you are…and no one will be left out. With an effort, you break Cop’s kiss and lean back, dropping your head onto Biker’s shoulder, finding his eyes molten, like melted down silver. “Now you. Tell us something about you.”

Cop’s hands are still moving on your hips, making it hard to concentrate, but you focus with all your willpower as Biker’s sensual mouth—with a tiny scar bisecting the top lip—begins to move. “He has a hard time getting people to stick around,” Biker murmurs at your neck, nipping at your ear so unexpectedly, you whimper. “And I’m usually the one who can’t stick.”

“Your turn, sweet girl,” Cop says, his hands going to your bottom…and you feel it…as Cop kneads your backside, Biker rubs his arousal against Cop’s busy hands, all while devouring your neck with open mouthed kisses. The by-the-book man you’re facing, the one who declared early he didn’t share, stiffens for just a moment. But he doesn’t pull away. No, he only abuses your bottom all the harder, pressing his forehead against yours and panting. Panting.

You can hardly breathe, much less offer something useful about yourself, but as they press in on you, flattening you between their hard bodies, you hear yourself blurt in a rushed whisper, “My college boyfriend broke up with me last year and I keep screwing up dates. On purpose, maybe. I think. Case in point…tonight. Because I-I’m scared of being happy and still getting rejected.”

Oh God. Oh GAWD, you’re going to die after admitting such a deep down secret, but instead of laughing at you, they bury their mouths in your hair, your neck, and whisper wonderful words. Cherishing words.

Aw, baby. Such a sweet girl. His fucking loss. Going to make you feel so good. No one is rejecting anyone tonight. You won’t be thinking of anything but how we’re moving in and out of you. Christ, that mouth of yours…those legs...

You and Cop groan into a kiss that makes your thoughts fuzzy as Biker urges the three of you toward the bedroom. When you stumble, Biker swings you up into his arms, growling when Cop attempts to steal you away, his jaw bunched, eyes challenging. After a stare down where all you can do is watch breathlessly, the men seem to reach some tacit agreement, Cop wrapping your hair around his fist, both of them holding some part of you as the bedroom looms closer…


Biker sets you down at the foot of your bed, but Cop doesn’t unwind his fist from your hair, keeping your head tipped back so far you can see the familiar crack in the ceiling. With Cop’s broad chest on one side of you, Biker’s on the other, they crowd in, eyeballing each other over your upturned face

“How do we decide who gets to lick her pussy?” Cop grounds out. “We both want it.”

“No argument there,” Biker says, resting his lips on your temple. “She hasn’t kept her hips still for a second since we left the restaurant. I bet it’s wet all over.”

Cop groans so loud, an answering sound leaves your mouth, your legs dipping again, both men moving quickly to hold you upright. “This seems like a premature conversation when I’m still wearing all my clothes,” you mutter, pride stinging a little at the effect they’re having on your motor skills.

Biker delivers one of those amused laughs into your hair. “Now I can’t decide if I want to use my tongue to stroke your clit.” His hand slides between your legs, cupping your core possessively. “Or if I want to sink my cock into your smart mouth.”

BOTH PLEASE, you think of crying out, but manage to refrain. And then you’re distracted by Cop’s hands on the bodice of your dress, his blunt fingers undoing your buttons one…by…one, before he peels the garment down and exposes your strapless black bra and—

Both of their chests begin heaving, two sets of eyes making prey out of your flesh, blazing over your breasts, hips, thighs and leaving lava in their wake. Cop attacks the front clasp of your bra, sending your breasts bouncing free and that’s when they both go a little nuts. Biker rubs his palm against the juncture of your thighs once more, then tears the underwear from your body. You’re still reeling from the unexpectedness of that move when Cop dips down and surges forward, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, cheeks hollowing, eyes closing tight as if he’s savoring the taste.

But Cop is distracted when the sound of Biker unbuckling his belt fills the room. Cop bares his teeth against your nipple, jaw going tight, before straightening to unfasten his own pants. The two men gravitate together, a heady combination of animosity and interest crackling in the air between them. Without warning, Biker slides his hand into the opening of Cop’s jeans, grasping what can only be the other man’s arousal, and any doubt is erased when Cop makes a choked sound.

“Be gentle with her pussy for now,” says Biker, leaning over to kiss your lips, a wet, languid dream that makes you sway forward. “Oh, yeah. She’s going to beg for it hard and fast, but we’re finishing her together. We on the same page?”

You’re actually worried Cop might take a swing at Biker, his body is so rigid with tension, obviously a man not accustom to taking orders. Or being touched intimately by a member of the same sex. Instead, however, he snakes a hand through Biker’s open fly, his forearm flexing as he takes hold of the other man’s erection, and he isn’t easy about it if Biker’s wince is any indication. “Yeah, we’re on the same page,” Cop rasps. “You go easy on her mouth while I’m getting my fill, though. If I hear her choke or see her try to tap out, I’ll break you in half.”

After a tight nod, they release one another, Biker moving past you while stripping off his shirt, shoving down his pants and sitting on the bed’s edge. You hear cop rummaging in your nearby closet, but you’re distracted by Biker’s incredible body. His pierced nipples could have been lost in the riotous pattern of his tattoos if they didn’t wink in the lamplight. Your gaze meanders down the swirling blue ink until it lands on his erection, thick and beautiful where it lays on his stomach. His dangerous smirk beckons you forward, but before you can fall to your knees between Biker’s thighs, Cop jerks your hips back against his naked lap.

Two thuds on the ground reveal what he was retrieving from your closet. That red pair of five-inch heels you’ve never had the courage to wear.

“Step into them and spread your legs,” Cop instructs gruffly in your ear. “I’m too tall…and you’re too petite to get a good mouth fucking from behind. Not unless we lift your gorgeous ass a little.” His hands smooth over the backside in question. “Okay, sweet girl?”

“Sounds reasonable,” you breathe, unable to get into the high heels fast enough. With the soft leather encasing your feet, the spike heels making your legs feel twice as long—not to mention two men watching you like predators—you’ve never felt sexier in your life. Ever.

Biker crooks a finger at you, Cop’s steady hand pressing between your shoulder blades. Following their unspoken instructions, you bend forward and take Biker’s erection into your mouth, reveling in the silk strength of him, the urgency of his fingers in your hair, his strangled moans that increase in volume the deeper you take him. The way his stomach shudders, thighs jerking wider, hips restless. It makes you want to take every inch of him into your mouth and you do. You take him all.

“Jesus,” Biker growls. “Get your tongue out and tell me how her pussy tastes. God knows she’s earning it. Lick her little clit until she moans around my cock.”

You feel Cop’s hands drag roughly down the backs of your thighs, hear his knees hit the ground. He takes hold of your backside with an admiring sound, shoving it high, then his mouth suctions onto your slick flesh. As if sensing you need the support, Biker braces your shoulders with his hands, his hips lifting off the bed in sensual rolls, sinking his length into your mouth as Cop’s tongue skates toward your clit and flickers there—onetwothreefourfive—before he sinks in and sucks the bud with relish, groaning so loudly in his throat it emerges like thunder.

Oh God. Cop’s mouth is magic, but it’s his aggressive tasting, sucking, like he can’t ever get enough that makes your thighs start to tremble with an oncoming climax. You sob around Biker’s pulsing arousal, because the tide is rising, rising, but he tangles a hand in your hair and drags you away from his lap.

“That’s enough,” Biker pants. “She’s coming. And if you think you’re not a sharer, you don’t want to know what happens when you’re the only one who gets her off.”

“Fuck,” Cop grates against the inside of your thigh. “Never licked one this hot. Haven’t even put my tongue in her yet and she’s whining like she’s taking a cock.”

“Makes you wonder how she’ll sound taking two. Doesn’t it?” Biker leans forward and devours your mouth with a hard, thorough kiss, taking your bottom lip with him when he pulls away, letting it go with a pop. “Baby, we need to fuck you now.” Behind you, Cop comes to his feet, but not before he drags his tongue up the center of your backside, giving it a light slap. “You have two men in your bedroom, their dicks aching like a motherfucker for what you hide in your panties all day. So we’re going to share your beautiful body until our dicks don’t hurt anymore. And you, baby, are going to come like nobody’s business while we’re at it, because you deserve that and more.” Another kiss, slow and wet. “Anything off limits?”

Before you can answer, Cop’s hand wedges in the split of your bottom and you know what they’re asking. You’re eager for it. Eager to experience something new, no matter how nervous it makes you. These men make you feel safe, cherished, and you trust your gut. “Nothing off limits,” you breathe, pushing your backside into Cop’s touch and getting his mouth on your neck as a reward, resonating hums of gratitude from both men.

A few beats of time pass as Cop and Biker communicate without words over your shoulder, intention in every line of their hard bodies. You’re beginning to get anxious about what they’re deciding, when Biker stands, circling around behind you—his pierced nipples cool where they slide against your arm—Cop brushing along your opposite arm, raising goosebumps on your skin, head to toe. You hear Biker going through your bedside table as Cop takes his place on the bed’s edge, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth while he looks you over.

“I can see you want to take this cock for a ride, sweet girl. Can see you want to ride it rough and that’s just how I like it.” His fist pumps between his legs, up and down, thumb swiping over the head. “Climb on up here and get filled.”

Biker moves up behind you, dropping what he found in your drawer onto the bed, also known as the small bottle of lubricant that came free with your online-purchased vibrator. You’re way too turned on to be shy about having it there, especially when Biker and Cop exchange another look, rife with heat, approval, anticipation. And when Biker tangles his hand in your hair, urging you toward Cop, heat gathers at your center like melted wax, encompassing every sensitive spot. “He’s a big boy, isn’t he?” Biker says gruffly against your neck. “I bet he grits his teeth and roars when he comes, all those veins on his muscles standing out. Mmm. You’re going to be the reason for that. For both of us.”

Cop grasps you around the waist and jerks you closer, but you’re already moving, straddling him on the bed. Your mouths meet in slick, seeking kiss, his hand between your thighs as he guides his erection home, slipping the tip inside. Holding his shoulders for balance, you press down, your moan building and building the deeper he reaches. Biker’s hands are on your bottom, helping guide you, even giving an assertive push when you’re having a hard time taking the final few inches. And then you’re fully seated and you’re dying, dying, because he’s beating inside you, stretching your flesh, and the man himself is cursing a blue streak against your lips.

“Ah fuck, you should see her. I barely fit and her eyes are still begging for more. Lively little thing with your crammed-up pussy, aren’t you?” Cop rolls his hips and you let loose a strangled cry, sharp pleasure spearing your middle. “I don’t know if I can let someone else have her now. I found this city’s best kept secret hiding underneath a skirt tonight, didn’t I?” He growls low in his throat. “Maybe I want her all to myself.”

Biker picks up the bottle and you hear him empty some of the liquid into his hand. “You know goddamn well you want to watch me take her from the back.” His fingers are slippery as they find the area in question, spreading the wetness everywhere, before gently easing the tip of his index finger inside. “You want to feel her pussy get even tighter when she tenses up on me. Those little whimpers when she’s not sure if she can handle what I’ve got.” His voice goes deep, like crimson velvet. “Hell, you want to watch me enjoy her, too. Want to know how I look fucking, whether you admit it or not.”

Before Biker’s speech is even over, Cop begins to move hypnotically, upthrusting as you ride, his mouth falling open at the exquisite torture you’re both experiencing. Your legs can’t get any wider but you try, you try, because he’s huge, wickedly sexy with sweat dotting his face, his flexing chest, and you want all of him. Cop’s gaze holds yours and doesn’t waver as your pace goes wild, your hips bucking. The orgasm you’ve been dying for since the restaurant is bearing down so fast, you barely notice Biker has his finger fully inside you now, gliding in and out as he kisses your neck, words of praise filling your ear. You sure as hell notice when he adds a second finger, however, even if the sensation isn’t totally unpleasant. Nothing is unpleasant enough to stop what you’re doing, because Cop is watching you with total awe and moving in a determined, grinding way that ensures your clit is worshiped with every powerful lift of his hips.

You’re so close…ridiculously close…stomach and thigh muscles contracting, when Cop falls back on the bed, bringing you with him, your breasts flattening on his chest.

“Christ. She’s about to go off already,” Cop groans, his face a mask of misery and brutal, male ecstasy. “Take her ass now, before I change my mind. Believe me, I’d love to flip her over, put her legs in the air and give her all my come.”

Biker’s hand smoothes up your spine, his thumb massaging the nape of your neck. “Baby, this is the part where we turn into dirty dogs and fuck you accordingly. Are you ready for that?”

You’re hovering in the space between reality and a different stratosphere, heartbeat slamming in your ears, breath rattling in your throat. Pleasure is thick and inescapable, waiting to grab you, take you under. “Yes,” you push past parched lips, your body undulating on top of Cop, meeting his commanding drives, every inch of his sweaty sinew sliding, bumping, luxuriating against your curves. “Yes,” you say louder.

There’s pressure now, along with the promise of release. Heavy pressure. So heavy, you feel it in your neck and you cry out, but Cop surges up, kissing you with so much passion, it distracts you, reminds you of the incredible sensations curling around your clit, building in your tummy. You’re caught in a tug of war between the ache where Biker pushes into the untried back entrance of your body and the deluge of incredible pleasure Cop is giving you. And then something incredible happens…so incredible, a flash goes off in front of your eyes, your jaw going slack. The pleasure and pain join forces and pummel you, ripping the breath straight out of your lungs with a scream.

“Shhh, baby.” Biker’s voice is uneven and coarse in your ear. “I’m in. I’m in and you’re a fucking dream, so snug and sweet. I haven’t even pumped yet and I’m already addicted to this little ass. So you’re going to get used to me, aren’t you? Because I’m a fiend now and that’s not going to change.”

Cop’s thrusts are growing disjointed beneath you where he works, works, works your sensitized nub, robbing you of reason and space and time. “It can’t be any hotter than this pussy. She’s got me in a fucking strangle hold.”

“You getting ready to come?” Biker asks in a rush.

“Yes,” you and Cop moan at the same time, but your answer ends in a sob when Biker pulls halfway out and drives back in, shouting a curse that echoes throughout your bedroom. Your head. The pain has turned into a smarting ache, but the more he moves, aided by the ample wetness, the more it lessens.

Biker’s voice cracks, his arms shaking where they prop him up on either side of you and knowing how much pleasure you’re providing to both men is an aphrodisiac. And you think of nothing but that and the lust rocketing through your midsection. They do become dogs, Biker falling on top of you, sandwiching your body between two heaving slabs of muscle that thrust, thrust, thrust into your body, snarls and expletives going off like fireworks in the surrounding air.

“You like that, sweet girl?” Cop says, baring his teeth against your mouth. “You like being a cute little fuck toy for two men?”

“She does. Look at her, spreading her legs so wide for us. She wants it every night…and fuck if I’ll be able to stay away now that I’ve had her.” A guttural groan. “I can’t hang on any more. I’m done, dammit.”

“Thank God,” Cop rasps, his pumps speeding up, his head falling back to expose the strained cords of his throat a second before heat floods you from all sides. From the men, yourself. The climax is so full, so complex in its division of good and bad, you bury your face in Cop’s chest and scream through it, your body shaking out of control, your body bucking mindlessly, trying to capture the outrageous feeling and keep it contained, even though you know its impossible. Impossible.

Almost as impossible as this bright, undeniable connection you feel to both men.


You wake up to the smell of coffee and buttermilk pancakes. For a moment, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering if last night was a dream. Then you sit up. Ooh. Not a dream. Pushing aside the covers, you get up slowly, making a stop in the bathroom to shower, brush your teeth and throw on your yoga clothes, before entering the kitchen—and whoa. Now you’re doubly reassured that two big, uber-masculine dudes spent the night in your bed, because they’re moving around your kitchen like they own the place, pouring orange juice and doctoring coffee. For you, apparently, if the way their energy changes when you come into view is any indication. They’ve been waiting. And it’s clear there is a discussion to be had.

Cop sidles up beside Biker, nudging him with an elbow. “That tank top she’s wearing is too tight. Do we want her going out like that?”

“Hell no,” Biker rumbles into his coffee. “Want her covered.”

Your eyebrows lift all by themselves. “Excuse me?”

Without answering, Cop goes to the stove, using the spatula in his hand to serve up two pancakes, smearing butter and pouring syrup on top in such perfect proportions, your stomach growls. Biker comes forward and leads you to be table, parking you on his lap. Cop takes the seat to your left—and he literally starts to feed you bites, all while Biker plants soft kisses on the back of your neck.

You’re trying to decide whether the whole scenario is ridiculous...or if you should just stop thinking and enjoy the ride, when Cop speaks up. “We’ve been talking, sweet girl.”

Are you moaning because of the pancakes or because Biker just found that sensitive spot behind your ear? Noideawhocares. “I kind of picked up on that. What about?”

“You,” Biker breathes. “We want more. We want all. Permanently.” Gravity infiltrates his tone. “And for me, that’s saying a lot.”

Warmth tumbles in your belly...and something else. Relief? It might be insane, but the idea of never seeing these two men again seems unacceptable, but you were afraid to let yourself hope. “What would more entail?”

Cop pushes aside the empty plate, and as if the three of you are moving in a choreographed dance, Biker turns your chair to face Cop, who slides his hands up your thighs while Biker keeps on worshiping your neck. “First, you have to decide. Is this something you want?” His thumbs trace circles inches from your core and you melt back against Biker’s chest. “We’re not going to be easy,” Cop continues. “Or even reasonable.”

“Turns out we’re more alike than we thought,” Biker murmurs, closing his teeth around your ear lobe. “Who knew?”

Your eyelids float down, images from last night playing out in scorching, moving memories. Right now, you can’t imagine never experiencing that kind of physical euphoria again, but it’s more than that. You want to know these men better. The protective, overworked cop. The mysterious biker who can’t commit...until now. “Yes...this is something I want.” Your eyes open to find Cop moving closer, his eyes fixated on your mouth. “How will it work?”

Tension seems to leak from both men, Biker dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a whispered thank fuck. “We have a few ground rules,” Biker says, after a few beats pass. “First off, we want all your online dating accounts closed. And we want them closed yesterday.”

“No. Men. Only us,” Cop says directly against your mouth. “You’re a goddamn beauty, so they’re going to try and get close to what’s ours. So if they don’t back off when you say no?”

“We’ll want names, so we can handle it our way,” Biker finishes, his voice hard. “Non- negotiable.”

“No other men,” you agree with a slow nod, earning you two growls of appreciation. “No other women for you, either, though.”

Cop and Biker trade a comical glance, their scoffs nearly identical. “We’ve been inside your body, baby,” Biker groans into the curve of your neck and shoulder. “We’ve tasted the best. Come inside of her. Now there’s nothing and no one else.”

“We’re only pissed we didn’t find you sooner,” Cop says, cupping his hand around the juncture of your thighs, massaging with total possession.

Biker hums, rolling his hips beneath your bottom. “There’s one more rule, ‘kay, baby?”

“What is it?” You ask, ready to have your clothes torn off, no matter what. Soreness be damned, you want the same bliss from last night to take you under. Want them to come under with you.

Cop and Biker share a look. “We’re not ready to let you be with only one of us alone. Not yet. Not until we can trust each other not to try and steal you for himself,” Biker almost hisses the last word, the need to possess evident in his voice. “That means you’ll take both of us. Every time. If one of us is late or working, we wait. Until...if...we start to trust.” Biker’s touch finds your core, joining Cop’s hand in its rhythmic, sensual rubbing, both of them starting to breathe heavy, along with you. “You’re going to be tender here a lot. There will be nights when we’ll both need more than one turn with this sweet spot.”

Cop’s thumb finds your clit through the thin nylon of your yoga pants, joining you in a moan as the digit moves in a circle. “You took us so fucking perfect last night. Better than a fantasy,” Cop rasps, licking the seam of your lips. “If you let us keep you, we’re going to be a couple of guard dogs biting anyone who gets too close, but we’ll make you happy. We’ll soothe you after bad days and keep you safe.”

“Tell us that’s what you want,” Biker instructs...and they both hold their breath. “Ye—”

They don’t even let you utter the single word before Biker eases you to your knees on the floor, running comforting fingers through your hair. Both of them stand and begin to unzip their pants with hasty movements, breathing shallow. On either side of you, their heavy flesh is revealed, desperately in need of relief. From you. Only you.

Cop runs a thumb over your bottom lip. “Say yes again where we can feel it.” You don’t make it to yoga that day. Then again, who the hell needs it anymore?


Your apartment has been robbed. Doesn't sleeping with a badass cop and an outlaw biker preclude you from this kind of nonsense? Apparently whoever swiped your flat screen and laptop didn't get the memo. Truth be told, you're a little shaken up after walking in and discovering your place in shambles. After placing a call to 911, you texted Cop and Biker and now, with two uniforms milling around your kitchen, you watch the door waiting for them to arrive.

And as always, they arrive with a vengeance.

Cop nearly rips your door off the hinges to get inside, ignoring the other uniforms. It's the middle of winter, but sweat dots his brow, darkens the front of his uniform shirt. You don't have a chance to eek out a greeting before he scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, setting you down just inside the door.

"Shit, baby. Tell me you're okay." He chokes on a swallow. "When I heard your address on the scanner..."

"I'm fine." Oh crap. Sometimes when you're frustrated, your emotions get the better of you and Cop's dependable presence is pushing you to the edge. "I'm...I just..."

He crushes you to his husky chest, filling your nose with intoxicating eau de male. Adrenaline joins forces with lust to turn you on big time. Before you can stop yourself, you're unzipping his uniform pants, your breath releasing in shallow gusts.

But he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

"The fucking rules." His gaze feasts on your breasts, his tongue drenching his lower lip. Frustration radiates from his big body. "I can't touch you unless he's here."

"There was unsaved work on my laptop." You bat your eyelashes. "Can't we make an exception for a tragedy?"

With a growl rumbling in his throat, he backs you up into the dresser. "You don't think I want to fuck that shaken up look off your face?" His hands flex over your breasts but he doesn't touch. "I want to so bad, but if I walked in here and caught him between your legs without me, there'd be a second reason to call the police."

You're so hot and needy at this point, a scream builds in your throat. "I'll give him extra attention later?"

Cop's expression darkens. "Can't have that, either."

"I wouldn't mind it," Biker rasps to your right. He kicks the bedroom door shut and approaches you slowly. "There better not be a fucking scratch on you or I'll tear this city apart to find whoever put it there."

"She's not hurt." Cop and Biker trade a look that's heavy with relief. With possessiveness. "But she's hurting."

"I'm hurting," you whisper. "A lot a lot."

Biker slides in between you and the dresser, slicking his tongue up the side of your neck. And Cop finally gives in, molding your breasts in his huge hands.

"I want to push these hot tits together and fuck right down the middle," Cop grits.

"Good." Biker's middle finger pushes past your lips, pumping in and out. "I'll take her mouth."

"Hallelujah," is the last coherent word you utter before you're face up on the bed, being stripped down and swarmed by two starved males. “Have I mentioned I love you guys?”

They go still.

“Do you?” asks Biker, intensity radiating from his hard body.

Your chest constricts and you can’t keep the truth inside. “Yes. Both of you. So much.”

Cop’s body aligns hard to yours. “Marry us,” he says against your ear and you feel something smooth and cool push down on your ring finger. “Marry us and…”

“Make us whole,” Biker finishes, his fingers threading through your hair, love-drenched eyes shining down at you. “We’ve loved you since you walked into the restaurant. Let us call you our wife forever.”

“Yes,” you gasp, just as Cop enters your body with a swift thrust.

“Wife,” he growls, drowning out your scream.

Biker drags his shaft across the seam of your lips. “Wife,” he whispers.

Husbands you think to yourself, your breast swelling with contentment. And then you can’t think at all, because your men fill your mind with nothing but them…and they’ll keep on doing it forever…

Get More Tessa Bailey

The Beach Kingdom Bundle

All three Books for $2.99

Over the course of one hot summer, three lifeguard brothers meet the loves of their lives in the warmth of the Long Beach sun. But a happily ever after worth fighting for never comes easy. This bundle includes three full length stories that were originally released separately.

Mouth to Mouth

Ex-convict Rory Prince knows he should stay away from fresh-faced college student, Olive Cunningham. If only she would stop almost getting herself killed...and if only he could resist saving the adorable book nerd over and over again.

Heat Stroke

Jamie Prince has nothing in common with Marcus "Diesel" O'Shaughnessy and he's done dealing with confused straight guys. But the deeper their unlikely friendship grows, the less confused Marcus becomes. In time to convince Jamie he's for real?

* * *

Sink or Swim

Andrew Prince has been in love with Jiya Dalal since they were children, but a family secret has prevented him from pursuing the girl of his dreams. When Jiya decides to stop waiting and puts herself on the dating scene, however, all bets are off and Andrew will race to fix the past before Jiya is lost to him forever.

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