|Baiting the Trap
READ THE DISCLAIMERS, DAMN IT! I know they're long and drawn out, but if you don't know you're mentioned, you can't sue me. <g>
All together now: "They don't belong to me, they belong to Rysher, Panzer/Davis, and a bunch of lawyers and accountants who are all prime recipients for heart transplants." No money will, or has, changed hands, just large amounts of chocolate and the occasional beer.
Slash alert. Not for children, vanilla prudes, or people with weak hearts. And it is NOT a death story. Not even a tiny bit depressing, I promise.<g>
Let's see now...filthy language? Check. Gratuitous nudity? Check. Sex? Definitely, and quite a variety, too (m/m, m/f/m, m/m/f, m/f, m/m/f again, and I may have missed a couple--I lost count somewhere in the middle).
This is the second part of the Cat and Mouse series. The first part is 'Building a Better Mousetrap,' which makes this--tah dah!--my very first 'non' first-time story. It'll make a lot more sense if you've read Mousetrap, but if you haven't, don't worry. I absolutely love first-time stories, but not having to do the 'first-time' dance left a lot more room for the really important stuff, like sex. Just read this one for the sex scenes and enjoy it. <eg>
What else? I know I'm forgetting something. Oh yes. A great big thank you and a BJBH to Zen and nan, Bone, Luminosity, Killa, Diana, Kady, and all the women of the RSM, for betas, suggestions, late night encouragement, and those incredibly detailed favorite kink lists (several items from those lists make guest appearances--but I'm not going to tell you whose, or which scenes they're in <eg>).
Special thanks to Ellen <g> and everyone else for enduring the Moaning Methos Muse while I was writing this one. He's passed out on the couch at the moment. I think he finally got enough sex! Read on, you'll see what I mean. <weg>
<Damn, that hurts!>
Methos stretched to relieve his cramped muscles and turned gingerly onto his back. Why the hell was he so sore? The memories of the last twenty-four hours began to come back into focus.
Amanda at his apartment. Amanda on his couch. Amanda in his bed. Amanda, her legs spread, her pretty face pressed against his shower wall. Then Amanda in Mac's bed. Then he and Mac. Then he and Mac and Amanda. After that, everything went black.
Damn. No wonder he still ached. He hadn't had a weekend like this since the sixties.
<I use to have more stamina than this, I must be getting old. One little threesome and I'm a total wreck. I've got to get out more. Note to self: have more sex, I'm out of practice.>
"Welcome back. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day." MacLeod sat on the foot of the bed and reached over to hand the ancient immortal a glass of champagne.
The frank appraisal in Duncan's eyes reminded Methos that he was nude. He didn't feel sticky, so at least someone had bothered to clean him, if not cover him. And from the look in Mac's eyes, he was willing to guess to whom he could attribute the lack of cover. Maybe it was time to rethink the whole 'boy scout' metaphor.
"That's not actually a bad idea. How long was I out?" Methos looked at the champagne and wondered why it wasn't beer. Duncan knew him better than that. Deciding that alcohol was alcohol, he drank it.
"Almost two hours. Sorry about that." The Highlander didn't sound sorry, but Methos found it hard to care while Duncan's hands and lips were doing such interesting things to Methos feet. Very interesting things. Things that were beginning to interest parts of Methos' body he would have sworn were much too tired to express interest in what was happening to his feet. Damn, the Highlander was good.
"Well, I didn't get much sleep last night." Almost none, in fact. His 'MacLeod seduction' rehearsals with Amanda had been draining, to say the least.
"Really? And here I thought you were just incredibly easy. What kept you up all night? Or should that be 'who'?" MacLeod had worked his way up to Methos' calves, kneeding and stroking the tired muscles. The stiffness in his legs disappeared under the Highlander's expert ministrations and reappeared further up Methos' body.
Methos started to voice the smart-ass remark about Amanda's inexhaustable supply of sexual energy that sprang immediately to mind, when he remembered who he was talking to. Mac probably wouldn't find their rehearsals as amusing as Methos did.
"I was studying. Got caught up in some interesting research and didn't realize the time. Ouch! Careful, MacLeod. I think I've had my quota of rough sex for the week."
"Sorry." Duncan placed his lips on the skin of Methos' thigh where he had pinched it and began soothing the offended spot with his tongue. Nipping, sucking, licking, he worked his way up Methos' leg, approaching areas that were even more sensitive. As the Highlander's wet, hot mouth closed over the tip of his rapidly hardening cock, Methos suddenly voiced a thought that had been nagging at the back of his mind.
"Where's Amanda?" The glorious hot, wet sensation stopped abruptly.
"I beg your pardon?" Methos raised up on his elbows and looked at the younger man. Damn. Duncan looked as offended as he sounded.
"Sorry, MacLeod. I just realized something was missing."
"Thanks a lot, Methos. Here I am on my knees, trying to give you the blowjob of a lifetime, and you 'realize something's missing?' Imagine how flattered I am." A wicked glint appeared in the Highlander's dark-chocolate eyes. Methos had barely a moment for the fear to register before Duncan's hand closed over his hard-on and tightened perceptibly.
"Obviously, I need practice. You don't mind if I practice on this, do you Methos?" Duncan's long, dark hair curtained his face as he dipped his head, and the welcome sensation of wet heat enfolded Methos' cock again. The old immortal lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.
"Go right ahead. Heaven forbid I should get in the way of your next merit badge. Ouch! MacLeod!" He raised up on his elbows again. Duncan's grin was barely visible through the hair hanging over his face.
"Obviously I'm not the only one who's out of practice. Let's see if we can get it right this time. My mouth is the only one that's supposed to be working. Keep yours shut, Methos. I think it'll be safer that way."
"No talking at all? Sounds boring." The hand tightened again, then began to move, slowly pumping Methos' now fully hard cock.
"You can say 'oh my God, yes Duncan, you're the best, don't ever stop' or various combinations of the same. Other than that, no talking allowed."
"How about 'faster, slower, harder'?"
"No. Absolutely no prompting from the wings."
"The wings? Certainly feels like center stage to me."
"Methos, do you want me to stop and let you handle this by yourself?" The warm, callused hand never paused in its delicious pumping motions. Methos locked his eyes on MacLeod's face and considered whether any smart-ass remark was worth passing up the opportunity to feel that gorgeous mouth close around his cock again.
"I'm sensing Amanda's influence here, MacLeod. This is definitely her style of sexual blackmail."
Duncan grinned and ran his tongue over his lips.
No contest. Methos laid back and folded his arms behind his head.
"Oh my God, yes Duncan, you're the best, don't ever stop."
"Somehow I thought you'd see it my way."
"You never did tell me where Amanda is." Methos turned on his side and contemplated the man lying beside him on the large bed.
<Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. The face, the hair, the chest, and, oh my.....>
"Gone. She had to run down to San Francisco. Don't worry, she'll be back in a couple of days."
"What's in San Francisco that's more important than this?" Methos couldn't believe his luck. Amanda got him into the Highlander's bed and left? Amazing. He wouldn't have suspected she was that trusting. The little vixen had to be up to something.
"Methos, when you've spent a little more time with Amanda, you'll learn that sometimes it's better not to ask too many questions."
"Some things man was never meant to know, huh?"
"Some things man is better off not knowing."
"But she's coming back?"
MacLeod turned and looked at his friend. he grinned and arched his brows in interrogation.
"Is this a complaint about my technique, Methos?"
"No complaints at all. In fact, I'd have to say that you're definitely the best beginner I've ever known. In the Biblical sense, that is."
"Beginner? Methos, I may not have five thousand years of experience, but surely two hundred years of practice qualifies me as at least a journeyman."
"I'm talking about men, MacLeod. Wait a minute...two hundred years of practice?"
"I'm talking about men too, Methos. And yes, two hundred years of practice. What kind of naive, repressed, provincial barbarian did you take me for?"
"Amanda said...she told me...that sneaky little bitch!"
"Told you what?"
"She said that you'd...that you were...that you didn't do men."
"And you believed her? Since when do you listen to Amanda?"
"Well hell, MacLeod! There's nothing about other men in your Chronicle!"
"I'm not stupid, Methos. Some things you don't flaunt. Not if you want to blend in, anyway."
"I don't believe this. I'm getting advice on 'blending in' from a man who hasn't changed his name in four hundred years! And Amanda knew this? She knew about you and these men?"
"Hell, Methos, who do you think taught me how to give a blow job?"
"So you and Amanda have done threesomes before? With other men, I mean?"
"Yes. Sorry if you're disappointed, Methos, but I am four hundred years old. You couldn't realistically expect to be my first, could you?"
Methos got off the bed and started looking for his clothes. Shirt, over the lamp. Jeans, jeans...under the coffee table. Where the hell were his boxers? He had a confused memory of feeling a sharp jerk followed by the sound of ripping cloth just before Duncan threw him onto the bed. He gave up looking for his boxers.
"Methos, what the hell are you doing? I can't believe you're that upset about this. I didn't realize you had a kink about virgins."
Methos looked at the Highlander, still relaxed, still lounging on the bed. Grinning at him. Smug bastard. Methos found one of his boots and threw it at him. Duncan caught it easily and tossed it back, still grinning.
"Methos, come back to bed. I'll make it up to you."
"First, I'm going to hunt Amanda down and skin her. Then I'm going to kill her, slowly. And when she comes back, I'm going to hunt down her wardrobe and make her watch while I burn it."
"She set me up, MacLeod. She set up that whole damn scene we played out this afternoon. That whole wounded, angry lover bit, that entire beat the shit out of Methos and throw him to the bed scene wasn't necessary, was it?"
"Well, no. You could have just asked me, I would have shared. But you didn't ask, so I was pissed. Sorry. But you seemed to enjoy it at the time."
"Oh, I enjoyed the sex, MacLeod, never doubt that. It was great sex, mind-bending sex, and I'd love to do it again sometime. But I don't enjoy being made a fool of. Amanda is going to suffer for that Highlander, don't doubt that either."
"And what about me, Methos?" The man was still lounging, still grinning at him. Didn't the damn Boy Scout have any idea how important this was? If he let Amanda get away with this she'd spend the rest of both of their lives trying to wrap him around her little finger.
"What about you, MacLeod? I told you, it was great sex, and I'd love to do it again sometime. As soon as I've finished my business with Amanda."
"No, Methos. I mean, don't I have a right to be angry, too? You were trying to set me up. That was the whole purpose of that little comedy routine, wasn't it? To get you into my bed?"
"Oh." Methos stopped dressing and looked at the Highlander. He hadn't realized MacLeod had figured out that part. Or that Amanda had told him. Either way, he was glad to see that the grin which had so infuriated him moments earlier was still there.
"Yes. Oh." Methos thought fast.
"Well, MacLeod, technically, you've had your revenge. With blood and all the trimmings."
"And now you want your turn. You want revenge on Amanda."
"I prefer to think of it as justice."
"I'm sure you do, Methos. But if you're willing to bend a little and call it teaching her a lesson, I'll help you." The grin got wider.
"You'll help? You'll come to San Francisco with me?"
"Not necessary. Killing Amanda won't teach her anything Methos. And I guarantee that the momentary pleasure you'd get from it wouldn't make up for never getting into her bed again. Much less into her. But I can tell you what will work with Amanda. And I promise you, it'll be much more fun than killing her."
"I don't know about that, MacLeod. You'd be amazed how much fun I could get out of skinning Amanda alive."
"Trust me, Methos. It'll be great. Now come back to bed. We've got two days before Amanda gets back. And I know exactly how I want to spend them."
When she reached the door to the loft Amanda could feel an Immortal presence that was much too strong to be just MacLeod. Not that Methos car parked beside the dojo hadn't been a dead give away.
<Good. They're both here.>
Since she didn't want to have to start what could be a beautiful evening soothing a pissed-off Duncan, she used the key she'd 'borrowed' to open the lock. She'd picked Duncan's lock so many times, it really wasn't a challenge anymore anyway.
"Duncan?" Oh how nice, candlelight. It seems the boys had the same idea she'd had on how they should celebrate her return. She really hoped they hadn't started without her. Or at least, that they had waited on her to finish.
"Over here, Amanda." Duncan was relaxing on the couch, his dark pants and shirt making him hard to see in the faint glow from the candles. But Amanda didn't need to see him to know he was in the mood for a very entertaining evening. His voice was pitched lower than normal, and the faint burr told her more about his physical state than being able to see his hard-on would have.
"Where's Methos?" Amanda moved toward the couch, dumping her bags on the floor against the wall.
"Here." Methos' voice whispered out of the darkness, so close she could feel his warm breath stirring the small hairs on the back of her neck. One long arm snaked around her waist, turning her to face him.
"My goodness, Methos, you shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that! She might begin to doubt your good intentions." Oh, he looked good in his tight jeans and loose white shirt. He must have been breaking in those jeans for at least twenty years. The fabric had worn soft and thin enough to cling to his body, caressing every line and curve of his long legs and slender hips.
"Sorry." He handed her a glass of champagne and pulled her closer.
"I don't want you to have any doubts about my intentions, Amanda," he murmured against her neck. She had just begun to enjoy the heat of his body against hers and his faint, spicy scent when he gently nipped her lower lip and released her, gliding away into the shadows again, his bare feet moving silently across the wooden floor.
Amanda sipped the champagne and turned to Duncan. He smiled and raised his hand. She thought it was a gesture for her to join him on the couch, then saw the small object in his hand and heard the faint click as the stereo came on and music filled the loft.
Methos reappeared beside her and reached for her glass. Taking it from her hand, he smiled at her and sipped, then put the delicate crystal flute on the coffee table, turned and placed his hands on her hips. He kissed her lightly, then trailed his lips across her face and whispered against her ear.
"Did you miss us Amanda? Did you think about us while you were gone? Alone in your bed at night, did you dream about being here with us? Did you dream about us touching you?" One strong, long fingered hand moved up her body, gently caressed her breast, then dropped back to her hip.
"Kissing you?" The warm, soft lips against her ear moved slowly down her neck and Methos' hot tongue flicked against the pulse beating at the base of her neck.
"Holding you?" Methos pulled her closer, settling her slender body into the curve of his pelvis, holding her pressed against his tight, flat stomach. His fingers tightened on her hips, keeping her with him as he began to move to the music.
"Dance with me, Amanda." Raising her hands to rest on his surprisingly broad shoulders, she let the beat of the music move through her as Methos floated her across the floor, holding her, leading her, pressing their bodies together to the hard, driving rhythm. Then he turned her in his arms and pulled her back against him, running his hands over her hips and down to her stomach, molding her firmly against the growing bulge in his jeans. She found herself facing Duncan, still lounging on the couch, his dark eyes watching every movement of Methos' hands as he touched her, every erotic motion of their bodies as they continued to sway to the music.
"Duncan said you were a wonderful dancer, Amanda, and he was right. Graceful, sensuous, extremely sexy. But I learned to dance in a much more...primitive era, love, and I think you're wearing far too many clothes."
Methos' hands dropped away from her and the warm body pressing against her back moved away, leaving her alone on the floor, staring into Duncan's dark, heat-filled eyes.
Hesitation never occurred to her--she understood her part in this game perfectly, and she was more than willing to play.
She stretched her arms over her head and let her pelvis rotate to the hard, driving rhythm of the music. Giving a small shimmy with her shoulders, she leaned forward, offering the Highlander a tantalizing peek at the rounded tops of the white breasts rising beneath her low-cut blouse, excited by the idea of Methos somewhere behind her, his eyes caressing her leather-clad hips and ass as she danced in front of Duncan.
Duncan locked his dark eyes on hers and rose from the couch. Arms at his sides, he held her gaze and rocked his hips to the music. Dancing with her, for her, he floated between the shadows and the golden pools of candlelight, a glorious vision of dark beauty, closing the distance between them only to withdraw when she reached out. Tantalizing, teasing, never touching. Back and forth, they circled each other, gracefully manuevering around the room until they stood with Methos between them, the oldest immortal facing Amanda, his back to the Highlander.
Methos continued to watch her dance while Duncan placed his hands on the other man's hips, drawing him back until Methos' ass was held securely against the Highlander's stomach. Methos tilted his head on to Duncan's shoulder and let his long, lithe body relax against the larger man's strength, his hips held tightly by Duncan's strong hands, his long neck arched, exposing his vulnerable throat to Amanda's hot gaze and Duncan's searching lips.
Methos' lips parted on a sharp breath when Duncan's tongue reached out and flickered against the sensitive skin beneath his ear, but his gold-green eyes stayed open and locked on Amanda. She raised her hands to follow the path of his gaze down her body, pausing on the downbeat to release the top button of her red silk blouse, then drawing her fingers slowly down her chest to flirt with the next one. She echoed Methos' gasp as Duncan's finger's mirrored hers, slowly releasing the buttons on the older man's shirt until it hung loosely from his broad shoulders, exposing the taut muscles of his smooth, pale chest.
Dropping her blouse to the floor, Amanda reached behind her and released the catch on her bra, sliding it down her arms to join the crumpled pile of discarded white silk at her feet. She raised her hands to her throat, then down to her already erect nipples. Duncan's hands traced a path up Methos' chest and circled the smaller nipples, pinching and teasing when she did, sliding down the other man's body when she dropped her hands to her waist.
Methos rocked his hips to the music and Amanda's nipples tightened even more. She knew what he was feeling; her body easily conjured the familiar sensation of Duncan's hard cock pressing against the cleft of her ass. She raised her eyes to the older immortal's face to find that he was watching her as she watched them, his eyes hungry and glazed with passion.
Hot moisture gathered between her legs when he gave her a small grin and began to follow her dance, moving his hips a little faster, a little harder, brushing his ass against Duncan's groin. Methos' grin widened when Duncan growled and thrust his hips forward, strong fingers pressing white-edged indentations into the warm flesh under his hands. The Highlander tightened his grip on Methos' slender waist, pulling the older man back, holding the hard, rounded ass captive against the erection straining under the denim of his tight black jeans.
Amanda winked at Methos, returned his grin, then turned up the heat, sliding one hand back up to her breast to pinch a nipple, while the other eased behind the waistband of her skirt, slowly caressing the soft skin of her stomach. It was Methos turn to gasp as Duncan followed her lead, his fingers dipping under the soft denim at the old man's waist to linger over the taut muscles of Methos' stomach, tracing through the light dusting of hair that angled down from his naval.
Popping the snap on Methos jeans when Amanda released her skirt, Duncan eased the zipper down over the large, swollen cock that appeared and disappeared from view behind his roving hand and the open edges of Methos' jeans. Amanda ran her fingers up and down over her mound, alternately tangling them in the silky hair and dipping between the lips to tease her throbbing clit. The Highlander continued to mirror her actions on Methos' trembling body.
Methos groaned again and clutched Duncan's forearms, his slender body bowed, pressing his head back into Duncan's neck and his straining cock forward against the Highlander's hand. Amanda moaned with him as waves of heat spiraled outward from her groin. Her orgasm caught her by surprise, weakening her knees and sending her slumping to the floor at Methos' feet.
"Oh God, no, Highlander, don't stop now."
"I think we need to take care of Amanda."
"Duncan, by the look of things, I'd say we have taken care of Amanda."
"Help me get her into the shower, Methos."
"She owes me for this. She really owes me."
Duncan stood behind her massaging the shampoo into her scalp, while Methos faced her and drizzled liquid soap over her breasts. Disdaining a wash cloth, he used his hands to lather the fragrant soap into her skin, his long fingers running over and around her breasts and down her body.
MacLeod gently grasped the back of her neck, tilting her head to rinse, and she closed her eyes and drifted. She let her mind float into daydreams while her body surrendered to the myriad pleasures generated by Methos' talented hands and the secure feeling of Duncan's strong body pressed against her back.
Taking long, gentle strokes down her torso, carefully avoiding tickling her ribs or delicate underarms, Methos ran his soap- slicked hands around her back, and over her ass, interposing them between her body and Duncan's. She felt one of Methos' hands leave her skin, then Duncan inhaled sharply and chuckled against her ear.
"Methos, that feels wonderful, but if you're suggesting soap as a lubricant, I doubt that Amanda would appreciate the thought."
"Not at all. Just a little something to let you know that you haven't been forgotten, Highlander."
Methos' knelt in the tub in front of Amanda and his hands returned to their task. Adding more soap to wash her thighs and calves, he made sure Mac was holding her firmly before carefully lifting one foot at a time to run his fingers over the soles and between her toes.
"We're going to lose the hot water soon, old man. Aren't you about done down there?"
"Just one more thing to take care of. Amanda? Love?"
"Hmmm?" Even that much of a reponse took a serious effort. Amanda wanted to go back to her dreaming, but Methos' hands had stopped moving.
"Are you very attached to the Easter Bunny?"
Amanda started to giggle as Duncan peered over her shoulder at the top of Methos' head. Leaving the two of them to argue about it, she closed her eyes again.
"Methos, what the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about your attempts to be artistic with Amanda's pubic regions."
"That's a cat, Methos, not the Easter Bunny." Duncan lowered his voice and tried to sound insulted, but Amanda could feel his chest vibrating with laughter against her back.
"It's pathetic, Mac. It has to go. Right now." After applying more lather to the soft hair covering her sex, Methos reached over to the sink and retrieved Mac's razor. Kneeling in front of her again, he lifted one of her legs to rest on the side of the tub, spreading her open in front of him. His long fingers ran lightly over the soft skin of her inner thigh, then she felt cold metal gliding over her most sensitive flesh. Amanda moaned and Duncan's arms wrapped around her more firmly. Abandoning her daydreams, she put all her concentration into not moving while Methos pulled the razor across her skin.
<Dear God in heaven, I don't know what I did to deserve this, but if you'll just let me know, I'll make sure to do it again.Real soon.>
Adding a quick 'thank you' for the inventor of the safety razor, Amanda abandoned her futile attempts to control the shivers coursing through her body and leaned back against Duncan's chest. Duncan kept one strong arm locked firmly around her waist, as the other hand moved up and began teasing her nipples again. She was grateful for the strength of Duncan's arms, but though they kept her upright, they couldn't still the trembling in her legs. She knew that if Methos didn't finish soon, her knees were going to give way beneath her.
Methos long fingers pressed gently against her inner thigh as he drew the razor up her pubic mound one last time, then followed the cold blade with a gentle wash of warm water. Placing the razor on the edge of the tub, he ran his fingers between her legs.
"So smooth, Amanda. I don't think I missed anything, but let's make sure."
Those strong fingers pressed against her once more as Methos separated her legs and leaned forward. His tongue danced over the sensitive skin of her freshly shaved body, pausing to lap delicately at her clit for a moment before moving down to explore her entrance.
Amanda thrust her hips forward, trying to impale herself on Methos' agile tongue. He let her thrust against him for a moment, then gently nipped the soft flesh of her inner thigh and moved back.
"It feels smooth to me, MacLeod. See what you think."
Amanda felt Duncan shift his weight and whimpered. If he let go of her now, she would never be able to stay upright. The whimper deepened to a moan as the hard length of his cock pressed between her legs from behind, rubbing against her hot, over-stimulated flesh. A frustrated growl formed in her throat as he ignored the entrance and ran his cock forward between the lips. Moving his cock back and forth between her legs, he paused at the end of each thrust, pressing the head against her swollen clit.
"Uhmm, yes. Feels awfully smooth to me. Oh shit, Methos!"
She felt Duncan's body jerk against hers, as his arms tightened around her again. Amanda looked down her body to see Methos' mouth close around the tip of the cock that was nestled between the lips of her smooth, naked sex. Amanda had seen few things as erotic as the sight of Methos kneeling before her, pleasuring her and Duncan at the same time. So beautiful. Oh God, that tongue. Flicking against her clit, flicking against Duncan's cock. Against her. Against Duncan. Methos raised his eyes and met hers, holding her gaze as he slid his tongue across Duncan's cock and onto her clit once more. Amanda's scream bounced off the tiled walls and echoed in the small room as she came.
<Moving. They're moving me again. Good. I didn't really want to sleep in the shower.>
Amanda struggled to catch her balance as Duncan set her on her feet and raised her arms above her head, fastening the leather restraints around her wrists.
<I thought we were going to the bed! Chains? When did Duncan hang the chains?>
"I'll bet this isn't in the Boy scout handbook, Duncan. Do they give merit badges in bondage?"
Still weak and disoriented from her last orgasm, she hadn't even had a chance to defend herself, especially since she was the only one who'd come. Twice, if she remembered correctly, and she was sure she did.
<Time to do something about that little detail. Level the playing field, so to speak. So I can't use my hands. So what? It won't be the first time I've made you come just by talking to you, Duncan. And the sexual dilettantes of the twentieth century thought they invented seduction with phone-sex! Time to put some of those hard-earned skills to good use. Piece of cake, hon. I know you're aching, and in five minutes you'll be unchaining me and begging me to suck your cock. Ten minutes, tops.>
"Getting adventurous in your old age, Duncan? You should have told me, sweetie. I know a few things you just might find...interesting." The Highlander grinned at her, then looked over her shoulder, grinned wider, and moved out of her line of sight.
Amanda felt a whisper of hot breath on the back of her neck as the low, sensuous voice floated over her shoulder.
"Not this time, Amanda. I'm sure you've got a veritable treasury of interesting things you could teach the young one. And some other time I'll be delighted to help you. But not tonight. Tonight it's my turn to play teacher, Amanda."
<Oh shit. How could I have forgotten about Methos? Amanda, old girl, you're slipping.>
Amanda gasped as she felt Methos move against her back and his long, hard, prick pressed against her ass.
<Two men, over five thousand years of practice, one little me. Oh, this could be a very interesting evening.>
"Uhmm, yes. Then get on with it. Teach me something, old man." The 'I dare you' was heard, even if unspoken.
Relaxing, she closed her eyes and let her head fall backward as Methos continued his slow, steady movements against her body, so bewitched by the sensations she barely had time to smell the rubber as the plug was eased between her teeth. Too late, she tried to jerk her head away. Methos ignored her struggles and finished tightening the gag.
"You'll have to try harder than that. But go ahead, I like it when you rattle your chains." Putting his lips against her ear, he whispered. "His first time with a man, Amanda? About time he expanded his repetoire? I think you need to be reminded what happens to little girls who tell lies. Did you forget who you were lying to, love?"
Amanda twisted her neck, trying to glare at Methos over her shoulder. Duncan moved through the edge of her vision and handed something to the older immortal, then turned and walked back into her eye line, heading toward the kitchen. Her attention momentarily diverted by the always distracting view of the Highlander's bouncing erection and tight, naked ass, Amanda barely noticed Methos manipulating her legs to attach the spreader bar at her ankles.
<Okay. I can deal with this. No problem. Submissive can be fun. Bondage has it's good points. And Duncan would never let Methos really hurt me. Would he?>
Images from the events that brought them to this place, this moment, gathered in her minds eye. Images of Duncan hitting Methos across the face, then grabbing the older immortal and throwing him to the bed. Images of Methos, moaning and twisting in her arms as Duncan grunted and thrust into his ass with uncharacteristic violence. Images of blood running down the pale, slender body to form dark patterns on the sheets. Images of Death looking at her from behind Methos' eyes.
A single drop of cold sweat rolled down her neck and dropped onto her breast as Amanda wondered if perhaps she had gone too far, unleashed a monster she couldn't control. Maybe this time she had started something she really didn't want to finish.
Methos rose from his work at her ankles and trailed his hand up her body. When he reached the wetness at her breast, a wicked grin twisted his thin, delicate lips.
"No pain, no gain, Amanda," he whispered.
A second drop of sweat joined the first one on Amanda's breast. Methos bent his head and kissed the small drop from her skin, then trailed his tongue up the wet path it had left, tracing delicately over her collarbone and up the side of her neck to the soft skin beneath her ear.
"Tasty?" Duncan's voice startled her. When had she closed her eyes? He had joined them again, standing behind Methos, his hands on the older man's hips. A grin lifted the corners of his mouth, reassuring her, then disappeared as his tongue flicked out to wet his full lower lip. Amanda whimpered, the bar at her ankles frustrating her attempts to spread her legs further or press them together, hard.
No matter how many times she saw it, the reality of Duncan MacLeod in the flesh, aroused and passionate, always outstripped her memories. His long, damp hair curled loosely over his shoulders, framing his passion flushed face in a cloud of dark silk. His golden skin glowed against Methos' paler form as he closed his arms around the slender waist and tangled the fingers of one strong hand in the dark hair of the other man's groin. A second later she felt the backs of his fingers sliding against her stomach, and Methos' body jerked against hers. She flexed her hips, arching her pelvis against the hand that was creating such delightful friction against her clit as it shifted up and down over Methos' cock.
<Oh God, yes. Don't stop Duncan. Yessss. Just a little more. Yes, oh yes.>
Methos pushed away from Amanda and placed his hand over Duncan's on his cock, stilling its movement. He leaned back against the Highlander and contemplated Amanda, seemingly unmoved by the hot brown eyes glaring at him above the gag.
<You're damn right! One of those hard cocks between my legs, fucking me, that's what's missing you son of a bitch. One of you fuck me, goddamn it!>
"MacLeod, where did you put the bag I brought with me? I need my equipment."
Releasing his grip on Methos, Duncan walked to the table and picked up a canvas duffel. Opening it he peered inside, then flashed a wicked smile at Amanda before turning to Methos.
"Did you want anything in particular, or can I choose?"
"Be my guest."
Duncan rummaged a moment, then rejoined them carrying a small leather case which he handed to Methos.
"Excellent choice, Highlander. Start small, and build." Methos opened the case and removed two small bottles. Keeping one, he handed the other to MacLeod. Duncan opened the bottle and sniffed the contents, then moved back to Amanda. Circling her body he stopped behind her. She caught the faint scent of oranges as cool liquid dripped onto her shoulders and ran slowly down her back, followed by Duncan's fingers as he smoothed the oil over her shoulder blades and down her spine.
Closing her eyes, Amanda relaxed into the warmth of Duncan's hands sliding over her skin. His hard, sword-callused palms warmed the oil as he spread it over her back and down her hips to her plump cheeks. His thick fingers dipped into the hollow at the base of her spine, then traced a gentle line between the cheeks, pausing briefly to tease the puckered opening with a finger. Pressing against his hand, Amanda could feel Duncan pressing back, and the thick finger eased through the tight ring of muscle, into her body.
The aroma of nutmeg alerted her to Methos' presence just before his oil slicked hands closed around her ankles. He knelt at her feet, smoothing oil up her legs, tickling behind her knees, running his long, dexterous fingers over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Wrapping one long-boned hand around her hip, he leaned in and brushed his tongue between the smooth lips of her sex, seeking and finding her swollen clit. He drew it between his lips, sucking and teasing the nerve-filled bundle, sending aching ripples of hunger through Amanda's belly. Pulling against the chains, she moved her body forward onto Methos' hot mouth, then back onto Duncan's stretching finger. Caught between them, her body slick with sweat and fragrant oils, she writhed and twisted, straining her flesh against theirs, reaching just a little farther, a little faster, searching for just a little more.
Then Methos moved his hand between her legs and thrust two of those long, wonderful fingers into her dripping body, rubbing her, stretching her, his rhythm a counterpoint to Duncan's, their fingers caressing and exploring each other through the thin membrane that separated them. Methos' hand tightened on her hip and he sucked harder on her swollen, pulsing clit as Amanda's orgasm began, sending tremors through her body, weakening her knees. Beyond thought, she clutched the chains as her body jerked and spasmed, instinctively thrusting herself onto the impaling fingers, and the hot, strong mouth sucking her down into oblivion.
As the tremors calmed and her body relaxed again, the two men released her, moving away. Amanda didn't have the strength to spare from breathing to lift her head to see what they were doing now, or what was coming next. When a few minutes had passed, her mind cleared and her ingrained curiosity began to reassert itself. Where were they?
Peeking under her lashes, she could see them leaning against the back of the couch. They were facing each other, their arms wrapped around each other. Duncan's mouth was pressed against Methos' ear as he whispered something she couldn't hear. Then the Highlander's hands slipped down to Methos firm cheeks and pulled him closer. The older immortal's slender hips began a slow, undulating motion, and Amanda cursed, frustrated by their position and her angle from obtaining a view of the two hard, reddened cocks rubbing against each other. She could picture those beautiful cocks, side-by-side, caressing each other, laying trails of glistening pre-cum over hard, flat stomachs. Her swollen clit, still pulsing and tender from Methos mouth, ached for renewed attention.
Coming out of her daydream, she realized the two men had seperated and were watching her again. Whispering again. Grinning again.
<What are you planning, MacLeod? What's next on the menu? Silly question, Amanda. You are.>
Amanda closed her eyes and tried to picture what Methos and Duncan were seeing.
She was gagged, secured by restraints attached to a chain in the ceiling of the loft, her legs held apart by the bar at her ankles. The chains were long enough to let her stand flat-footed and still keep her arms slightly bent. Her slender body was naked and oiled, glistening in the candlelight; her nipples were tight and pointed, her freshly-shaven sex open and clearly visible between her spread thighs. Vulnerable. Defenseless. Wet and ready for anything they chose to do to her. Anything. More than ready.
Amanda wrapped her hands around the chains and raised onto her toes. Knowing it would highlight her breasts, she arched her back and stretched, adding a muffled moan through the gag for effect before settling to her feet once more.
<Damn, I look good! What are you waiting for? Ravish me already.>
Something light and soft trailed across her back. Opening her eyes, she could see Duncan leaning against the back of the couch, watching her, his eyes hot and hooded.
<Methos. It's Methos behind me. What's he doing?>
The something soft caressed her back again, slid across her shoulder blades and down her spine, dipped briefly between her open legs to tickle the soft skin of her inner thighs, then withdrew.
<It's not his fingers. Too soft. What is it?>
Amanda shifted and started to turn. A long fingered hand closed around her waist and stopped her movement. A soft, deep voice whispered in her ear.
"Curiosity killed the cat, Amanda. Don't make me blindfold you. Look what you'd miss."
Methos turned her back toward MacLeod. Duncan was running one hand over his erect cock, smiling at her as he gently stroked himself.
Methos warm breath wafted across her neck as he whispered to her, the fingers against her waist pulled her back against his body, pressing his erect cock against her ass.
"He's enjoying this, Amanda. Watching you. Watching us. Look at him, love. Look how hard he is. He has such a beautiful cock, doesn't he? Long and thick and hard. Does it feel good inside you, Amanda? How does it feel when he enters you, slowly, gently stretching you? Then suddenly thrusting into you over and over until all your muscles clench and you can't breathe, wanting to come, but wanting it to last forever. Is that how it feels, Amanda?"
His hand moved from her waist to her mound, easing between the lips and rubbing against her inflamed clit. Stroking her briefly, he dipped into her body, his long fingers stretching her, moving inside her, reinforcing his voice. Hot juices dripped over his hand and ran down her thighs.
"He wants this, Amanda. He wants to watch me touch you, stroke you, lick you. He wants to see you hot and writhing against me. He wants to watch while I push my cock into your tight little cunt and fuck you, hard and slow. He wants to see you come for me, Amanda, and I don't intend to disappoint him. And if you're very, very good, I'll take off the gag before I fuck you so he can listen to you scream."
Amanda's muscles clenched around Methos' fingers as she thrust against his hand, desperate to take him further inside her body, desperate to complete what he had started. Moving down pushed the long fingers deeper inside her, moving up pushed his thumb against her clit. Either movement pushed her back against the hard cock pressed into the channel of her ass cheeks. She writhed and twisted against the chains, moaning behind the gag for real when Methos released her from the confinement of his arms and moved away.
Helplessly, she looked at Duncan, her eyes pleading with him to supply the relief Methos was denying to her. The Highlander was still stroking his engorged cock, rolling his balls back and forth in the other hand. He stared back at her, smiled, and ran his tongue over his lips, but didn't move to help her.
Amanda jerked against the chains as once again Methos trailed something soft over her legs and up her back. It was wonderful to be touched again, but it was a faint, delicate sensation, not the hard, completing touch her body was craving. He moved around in front of her and she could see the long feather he was dusting over her skin. Teasing her nipples with delicate touches when they ached to be pinched and twisted. Flicking it softly against her clit when it hungered to be sucked hard. Brushing it lightly over her inner thighs when they longed to be grasped by strong hands and spread further apart. She sobbed behind the gag.
And then he stopped.
Amanda sagged and let the chains take her weight. She had thought they were meant to restrain her, but she remembered now that they were really there to keep her upright when her knees gave out. She heard the murmur of voices and raised her head. Methos had joined Duncan and was leaning against him, running those delicious, talented fingers over the Highlander's cock as they whispered together. Methos knelt between Duncan's legs and ran his tongue over the tip of the large, erect cock, then took it into his mouth. Amanda's vaginal muscles clenched as Duncan threaded his hands through the short dark hair, and moaned, letting his head fall back, his long hair trailing over his shoulders. He looked at her under his lashes, his eyes glazed, his beautiful mouth open and panting for breath, as he used his grip on Methos' hair to guide the older man's movements. Methos clutched Duncan's thighs for balance as the Highlander's hips began to move, fucking his swollen cock deeper and harder into Methos' willing mouth.
<Oh God. The mouth, the hands, the cock, anything. I'll take any of them, just one of you touch me! Please!>
Duncan's body began to jerk and his long, deep thrusts into Methos' mouth became short and fast, then stopped altogether as he pulled Methos' head forward one last time and groaned. After a long moment, the older Immortal released Duncan's cock and stood, keeping his position between the Highlander's legs. Duncan's arms went around him, pulling them together, one hand moving to the center of his back to hold him close, the other moving down to caress the pale skin of his ass. MacLeod whispered something she couldn't hear to the other man, then nipped gently at the lobe of his ear.
Methos moved out of the Highlander's arms and turned to lean against the couch, looking at Amanda as Duncan started toward her. The Highlander's cock was wet and flaccid now, but his eyes were hot and making promises Amanda prayed he would keep. He moved around behind her and Amanda heard a drawer open. She kept herself still, her eyes on Methos, resisting the temptation to peek. Methos grinned and nodded, then reached down to touch his cock. Leaning against the couch, his long legs spread for balance, he used one hand to tweak and pinch his nipples while the other began to stroke his cock.
<Oh God, Methos, fuck me, please. I know you've been hard forever. Come over here and shove that cock into me. Hard and fast, long and slow--I don't care how, I don't care where, just fuck me. Please, Methos. I need it, you need it. Fuck me, you cunt-teasing son of a bitch!>
Duncan reappeared in front of her, and over the scents of orange and nutmeg and sex, Amanda could smell cinnamon. His oiled fingers reached out for her swollen, ignored nipples, and she flinched in anticipation. Touching her at last, he rolled her nipples between his fingers, coating them with the aromatic oil. After teasing them for a few moments, he leaned forward and blew softly on the tips of her breasts. The spicy oil began to warm, and Amanda moaned softly into the gag. Duncan's hair hid her lower body from her view, so her first indication of what was to come was the warm feeling of his oil coated finger slipping between the protective lips, reaching for her swollen clit.
Amanda flinched away, trying desperately to pull out of Duncan's grasp, but one hand closed on her hip holding her in place while the other finished it's task, rubbing the warm, and increasingly warmer, oil onto her most sensitive flesh. Tears of frustration rolled down her face and into the soft material of the gag. She began to moan, knowing that if she could speak, she would be begging, pleading for one of them to fuck her. Through her water- stained vision, she could see Methos standing next to Duncan, cleaning the Highlander's fingers with a soft rag. Then lifting them, raising them to his mouth to suck them gently between his lips while Duncan whispered to him once again.
Then Methos moved away, and Duncan was in front of her, holding her face in his hands.
"What do you want, Amanda? Shall we leave you alone now to rest? Hmmm? Is that what you want, love? Or is it something else?"
He circled her, drawing his hands over stomach and across her hips, pausing behind her to squeeze the cheeks of her ass and breathe into her ear, turning her body to face Methos, leaning against the table watching them.
"You fucked him, didn't you Amanda? You told me you were going out with a friend, then you went to his apartment and fucked all night. Did you enjoy it? I'm sure you did, love. I've had him. The man fucks like an angel. You should have invited me, Amanda, I would have loved to watch." Circling her again, he stopped in front of her and smiled, then took her face in his hands again and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose.
"I guess you'll just have to show me what I missed."
She felt other hands on the back of her neck, another body close against hers, as Methos moved up behind her and removed the gag from her mouth.
"Oh God, please fuck me. One of you, both of you. I don't care who, just please hurry!"
Duncan dropped to his knees in front of her and removed the spreader bar from her ankles. He placed one hand at her entrance, holding her open, with the other he reached between her legs and guided Methos' hard, swollen cock into her tight, wet body. Amanda screamed, her muscles clenching, as at last, the long hard column of flesh she had been waiting for moved into her. She thrust her hips back, silently urging Methos to move faster, but he held her by the hips as Duncan grabbed her waist and leaned her forward into his arms, imprisoning her between them, locking her body into their rhythm.
So slowly. Methos took forever to enter her, his flesh gliding smoothly into hers, his long, thick cock stretching her, burning her. Then he paused, flush against her body, her ass held tightly against his hard stomach, and after an endless moment, began the equally slow, lingering slide out again. Amanda was sobbing, pleading with each gasping breath for Methos to fuck her harder, faster, for Duncan to touch her clit, her breasts, anything, anywhere.
"Oh no, Amanda. I want this to last. I want to watch his cock part your body and ease inside, so slowly. It's so beautiful, it's a shame you can't see what I see. He's so big, isn't he love? And that lovely cock is so wet, so hard. Red and swollen and shining with your juices, Amanda. You look so delicious together. Don't you want it to last forever, Amanda?"
"Oh God, no. Noooo. Please Duncan, please let me come. Please...pleeeeease. Make him let me come, Duncan. I'll never lie to you again. Never. I promise. I'll do anything you want me to, both of you, anything you've ever dreamed of, everything you want. Just please, fuck me harder, Methos, faster. Fuck me, you son of a bitch, fuck me!"
Amanda felt Methos' hands tighten on her hips, and his breath on her shoulder grew labored and more rapid, but his cock didn't seem to care. It continued its lingering, tormenting punishment, the pace never varying as it slid easily in and out of the slick tunnel.
"You want it hard, Amanda? You want it fast?" Methos voice was harsh and low, his normally smooth tones banished by passion and hunger. "I don't think you can take it harder, Amanda. What a shame. A woman with your experience should have more control, love."
"Methos, please. I swear, anything you want, anything."
"But I've already got what I want, Amanda. I wanted to be inside your tight, hot little body, listening to you beg and scream for it, and Duncan's given me that. I think it's his turn now, love. I think it's time to give Duncan what he wants."
"Anything. Please, just tell me what to do. Anything, I don't care what it is, I'll do it, Duncan. I swear I'll do it."
Duncan raised his eyes and looked at her. His face was flushed and glistening with sweat, his hair a sweat dampened tangle on his neck and shoulders. He smiled at her, a wicked, tender smile, and ran his tongue over his lips.
"I want you to make Methos come for me, Amanda. I want you to clench your muscles around him, milk him, caress him with your body and make him come. I want to touch his cock and feel him pulsing inside of you, emptying himself inside you. And when he's done, while you're still swollen and tender, while your clit is still pulsing and his cum is still dripping out of you and running down your legs, I'm going to shove my cock into you as far as you can take it and give you that hard, fast fuck you want so badly. You want that don't you, love? But first you have to make him come for me. Do it for me, Amanda. Do it now."
Amanda sobbed. What did Duncan expect of her? Her muscles were already clenching Methos so tightly she was surprised he could still move inside her. But move he did. Too slowly, too gently, but he was moving, riding her body to the edge of orgasm and holding her there, trembling, frantic with the need to take that one small step that would send her spinning into the abyss.
And then Duncan was touching her. His tongue was on her clit, caressing, rubbing, sending electric charges through every nerve in her body. His fingers moved over the edges of her opening, touching her, touching Methos. The fingers lingered on their joined flesh, collecting the moisture Methos' cock was pulling from her body and spreading it over the outside of her sex onto her clit where his tongue licked and tasted it, then followed the trail back down her body to Methos' cock. The long thick fingers moved up the swollen cock and caressed her, then slid alongside it, and followed it into her body.
Methos grunted and pulled her hips back violently, forcing himself even deeper inside her as his cock began to pump his semen into her. Amanda's hips jerked and small convulsions raced through her. She held onto the chains and Duncan and Methos held her body, riding out the ecstatic seizures that were contorting her body, screaming with the rapture of her release. The seizures quieted to trembling and Methos slid out of her, his cock leaving as gently as it had entered, easing its way over swollen, tender flesh.
And Duncan's hard cock pushed into her, shoving through the opening, his entry made easy by the combined slickness of her juices and Methos' semen. Meeting no resistance, he began to pound violently into her limp body. The pressure of his pelvis rocking against her brought an edge of welcome pain to the sensitized nerves in her clit, reigniting her orgasm and sending Amanda spiraling, screaming into the rapturous dark.
"Oh shit, Methos. Yes. Yes!"
Amanda decided to delay opening her eyes, no matter how tempting the groans and whimpers were. Similar decisions in the past had saved her life, if not her virtue. Where was she?
<The bed. They've moved me to the bed. Okay, good. I can live without the chains.>
"Yessss. Oh God, Methos!"
She was definitely ready now--time to peek.
Amanda opened her eyes and discovered that she wasn't as ready as she had thought. Duncan was next to her on the bed, stretched out on his back and totally unaware that she was awake. She couldn't really blame him. Methos was straddling the Highlander's groin. Supported by his hands on Duncan's shoulders and guided by MacLeod's hands on his hips, he moved, slowly impaling himself on Duncan's oiled, swollen cock.
Methos groaned and stopped moving. It looked to Amanda like the older Immortal was struggling to breathe.
"No, Methos. You wanted it, take all of it." Duncan's grip tightened and he pulled down on Methos' hips as he arched his body upward. Methos gasped and threw his head back.
"Shit MacLeod! Shit, shit, shit. Fuck." Methos' pale body was frozen, poised over Duncan's, sweat dropping from his throat to land in small glistening pools on the Highlander's chest. Duncan let him rest for only a moment before he pushed up on the slender hips, eliciting another groan from the older Immortal.
"Oh God, MacLeod. It's so good. Sooo good."
As Amanda watched, Methos' body acknowledged the rhythm Duncan wanted and started to move again. She moved with him, sitting up and shifting behind him. Balancing on her knees, she ran her fingers down the smooth skin of Methos' back, exploring the tight muscles, lingering at the base of his spine, then dipping between the cheeks. Methos movements slowed, then stopped. She watched the muscles in his thighs tense when she traced one finger over Duncan's slippery cock and around the circle where their bodies joined, tempted, wondering if Methos' body could possibly stretch any further.
"Amanda. Be good." Duncan's warning was a low growl. The Highlander knew her entirely too well.
"I'm always good, Duncan. I'm trying to be better." She grinned, but moved to the side again, trailing her fingers up Methos' rib cage to play with his nipples. Methos gave her a tight, pained grin, then closed his eyes and began moving on Duncan's cock again. She knew what that felt like. The Highlander's large, hard cock moving in and out of her body was a familiar, much loved sensation. She watched strain war with ecstasy on Methos' face and wondered if she looked like that when Duncan took her this way.
"Amanda, you could always contribute here you know." Drawn from her imaginings, Amanda looked at Duncan. He smiled at her and slid one large hand from Methos' hip to encircle the base of the cock bouncing above his stomach. She smiled back at him and lowered her head to Methos' swollen cock, kissing the tip to find it still tasted like her, then teasing it with small, cat-quick laps of her tongue.
She felt Duncan's hand move to the back of her head and grip her hair, much as he had earlier gripped Methos' hips. Recognizing the Highlander's mood, she relaxed, opened her mouth, and let him guide her. As Methos' cock moved between her lips, she ran her tongue around it, then tightened her lips and began to suck. Methos inhaled with a gasp and began to move faster on Duncan's cock. MacLeod's grip on her head limited her options, so Amanda adjusted her angle and let Methos fuck into her mouth.
"Oh yes. Suck him Amanda. Suck him hard. God yes. Don't you love her mouth, Methos? So hot, so talented. And she loves the taste of cum, don't you Amanda?" Duncan's hand left her head and Amanda felt it sliding in between her legs, teasing her other lips apart, his talented fingers searching for her clit, finding it.
"He's close, love. Do you want him to come in your mouth? I think maybe we should save that for later. I want to see him come on your breasts, Amanda."
"Mmmmm." Methos' cock was even more effective than the gag had been, but Duncan wasn't interested in a conversation anyway. He took her muffled moan for assent. Using her hair to pull her mouth off of Methos' cock, he released her, then grasped Methos' hips again, pulled down hard once, twice, and came, holding Methos' body still while his cock pulsed into him.
One breath. Two. Then Duncan grabbed her, moved her down and closer, and began to rub Methos' still hard cock against her chest. Amanda cupped her breasts with her hands and formed a tunnel for Methos to fuck.
"Come, Methos. Now. I want to see it." Methos groaned, and did as Duncan demanded, splashing hot, thick semen over Amanda's throat. She held him with her breasts, cradled against her chest, then was finally forced to release him when he went limp and collapsed onto Duncan.
Moving gently, Duncan separated them, then cradled the still trembling Methos with one arm and ran the fingers of the opposite hand over Amanda's breasts, gathering up the sticky fluid and carrying it to her lips. She took the fingers into her mouth and sucked them, running her tongue over and between them, savoring the hot, salty taste of Methos' passion.
Finally, Duncan moved his hand to her shoulder, pulling her down to his side. With one arm around her and the other around Methos, the Highlander smiled and closed his eyes.
Methos woke to cold and heat--cool morning air on his back and legs where the covers had been removed, a hot mouth nuzzling his neck, a warm, soft hand stroking his morning erection. Unless MacLeod had bought stock in Chanel, it was the inimitable Amanda playing alarm clock.
"Wake up and say goodbye, Methos." Cautiously, he opened one eye and peeked. Amanda perched on the side of the bed, fully clothed. The hand on his cock gave a final squeeze and released. Methos growled and reached for her, but she avoided his grasp, stood and stepped away from the bed.
"Goodbye? Leaving so soon, Amanda? And things were just getting...interesting." Methos yawned and stretched, then climbed out of the bed and began searching for his jeans. If he had to talk to Amanda before coffee, he was going to need the illusory armor of clothing.
"I have a plane to catch. And if you must, they're under the coffee table."
Grimacing at her ability to read his mind, Methos retrieved his jeans and headed toward the bathroom.
"Give me five minutes. I'll be right out." Closing the door on Amanda, he relieved himself and splashed cold water on his face, then reached for MacLeod's toothbrush, and paused.
<Why the hell not? I've had his cock in every orifice in my body. Why quibble about a toothbrush?>
When he came out of the bathroom fastening his jeans, Amanda was perching again, this time on the arm of the couch.
"Where are you off to this time?" Methos stepped close to Amanda and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping an arm around her waist he molded her to his body and bent his head to kiss her neck. Definitely Chanel.
"London. Will you miss me?" Amanda returned the compliment, running her hands around his waist and down to cup his ass while she nibbled lightly on the skin of his throat. Definitely Eau de MacLeod.
"Of course I'll miss you. Nobody screams when they come quite the way you do, Amanda." He grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out at him before grinning back.
"I'll see you in a couple of months."
"Let me guess. Someone has an absolutely divine necklace they don't appreciate, and you're going to give it a more loving home."
"Now that you mention it....Actually, Duncan asked if I would mind making myself scarce for a while. He wants the two of you to have some time alone together."
"Alone? Well, isn't that sickeningly romantic? It's just like the Highlander though. Do the flowers and candy come next? By the way, where is he?"
<MacLeod thinks we need time alone? Right. Like I'm going to believe anything you tell me, Amanda. I've learned my lesson, even if you haven't.>
Amanda nibbled one more time then twisted out of Methos' arms. Some things were best said from a distance, and a girl never knew when she might need a running start.
"Downstairs, working out. And it's more like him than you would imagine. He doesn't think he's being romantic, Methos, just practical. He knows you'll learn the Rules much more quickly if I'm not here to...distract you."
"Uh-huh. The Rules. Capital 'R,' Methos."
"What the hell are you babbling about now, Amanda?"
"I'm trying to do you a favor, Methos. The Rules of the game. You've played games before, surely. Well, you're going to love this one. Duncan can be so...creative when he decides to play."
"Duncan wants to play a game? What? Poker? Chess? Nude volleyball? You're not making any sense. And I still remember the last time you did me a favor. 'No pain, no gain, Methos'. Well, thanks, but no thanks, Amanda."
Amanda moved a little farther from Methos, careful not to let him get between her and the exits.
"Suit yourself. Have some coffee, Methos. You're going to need to be awake when Duncan gets back. Believe me, you definitely want to be awake for this."
"You're beginning to intrigue me. Either that or you're starting to piss me off. This early it's hard to tell the difference. If you're talking about Duncan's favorite sex game, just spill it, Amanda. I'm a big boy. I won't be shocked."
"You told me you could do submissive, Methos. I hope you meant it."
"Amanda, your lack of confidence wounds me. I thought I'd already given quite a convincing demonstration of my ability to do submissive. Or wasn't the fact that Mac was using my blood as lube enough proof for you?"
"A little blood is too easy for an Immortal, Methos. It didn't really cost you anything, did it? I know you can handle physical pain, but how are you at handling emotional risk?"
"What emotional risk? Amanda, we're all adults here. It's just sex. I thought you of all people understood that." It was too early for this. No man should have to deal with Amanda before noon. How had MacLeod managed it for all these years?
"'It's just sex.' Uh-huh. Right. Keep telling yourself that if it helps. You told Duncan that you went with the winner, remember?"
"He told you about that?"
"He tells me a lot of things. And I hope you weren't kidding, because he plans to make you live up to it. Just remember, whatever happens next, it's your own fault. You set the stakes for this particular game, Methos. As far as he's concerned, you're his prize for defeating Kronos, and he's ready to claim you. You belong to him now. Body and soul. You might as well have 'Property of Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod' tattooed across your ass."
"Like you do, Amanda?" Where was she going with this? Where ever it was, he'd go along for a while. Long enough to get his hands around her lovely throat anyway. Last night, Amanda had learned what happened when she lied to him. It was time she learned what happened when she teased him before beer. Or at least before coffee.
Amanda stood and gathered her purse and coat.
"Last night you wanted to hear me scream, Methos, and you got it. Someday, I'm going to get to hear you scream."
"You'll get that wish any minute now, if you don't get to the point."
"You handled it when he was rough, hon. You liked it when he threw you to the bed and held you down, didn't you?"
"Immensely. But you knew I would, or you wouldn't have engineered it that way, would you?" Methos grinned at her again. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned one slender, denim-clad hip against the couch. For a moment he wondered if he was in a bad commercial, then decided it didn't matter. One took good advice where it was offered -- never let Amanda see you sweat.
"Do you think you're fooling anybody, Methos? This 'it's just sex' dance you two are doing with each other is entertaining as hell, but it won't hold up forever." Amanda was fortunate she'd kept her distance. That was not shy, gentle Adam Pierson lurking behind those green-flecked eyes.
"Amanda..." He was growling now. Definitely not Adam.
"How are you going to handle it when he's gentle, Methos? When he eases into you and won't move, when he waits until you beg for it? That big, hard cock inside you, his arms locked around you, holding you still. When he caresses you? Kisses you? What will you do when Duncan forgets 'it's just sex' and makes love to you? Will you scream then, Methos? What will it take to make you beg and plead? I can't wait to find out."
She smiled at him and opened the door.
"What game are you playing now, Amanda?"
"Don't you get it yet, Methos? I'm not the one playing now. I'm out of this particular game, for a while anyway. But don't worry, I'll see the two of you in Paris for Christmas. Duncan promised."
"'Duncan promised?' Is MacLeod my travel agent now?"
"Just remember one thing, Methos. No matter how well intentioned and adult everyone thinks they are, games can get out of hand. I like you, Methos, a lot. And I think the three of us can have a lot of fun together. But I love Duncan MacLeod. If you hurt him, you'll answer to me." She closed the door behind her. Methos heard the click as she engaged the lock from the outside.
As he considered Amanda's remarks, Methos helped himself to coffee and leaned against the kitchen island to savor it. Duncan did buy very good coffee, and Methos intended to enjoy the little benefits of his new relationship with Duncan, as well as the big ones. He continued to contemplate his strange conversation with Amanda, deciphering, rearranging and reinterpreting, while he toyed with the leather scraps from one of Mac's projects that were piled on the counter. It didn't help.
<Why did the bitch have to be so damned elusive? What the hell was she talking about? She didn't look pissed that Mac asked her to leave, she looked...amused. But she was serious about me not hurting MacLeod. And she was definitely worried at the end. Why the hell would Amanda be worried about sex games? What the hell is going on here?>
He heard the elevator rising from the dojo. Good. MacLeod had a few questions to answer. He'd be damned if he was going to let a sneaky little tart like Amanda tie him in knots again, no matter how good she looked in chains. Running the scraps of leather through his fingers, he encountered a buckle.
<A collar? What the hell is this for? Mac didn't tell me he was getting a pet. What the hell is he going to do with it when he has to leave in a hurry? Doesn't he know what a huge responsibility a pet is? Looks like it's going to be a big sucker, too.>
Duncan came out of the elevator, his sweats hanging low around his hips, his bare upper body golden and still gleaming with sweat from his workout. He looked at Methos leaning against the counter and smiled. Methos opened his mouth, prepared to ask a few hard questions, when he noticed the other man's eyes were focused on the leather straps in his hand.
<'Duncan can be so...creative when he plays.'>
Methos stared at the Highlander. Amanda couldn't have meant...shit, she did mean...oh well, it wasn't like he hadn't played dominance games before.
<'What will you do when he forgets it's 'just sex' and makes love to you?'>
Amanda was right. There was something very un-playful and serious lurking behind the Highlander's dark eyes. Methos swallowed. Duncan? Serious about him? No way, that was not supposed to happen! How had he missed this one? This is what he got for playing mind games with Amanda when he was sober. Brain damage.
<'You told me you could do submissive, Methos. I hope you meant it.'>
Duncan raised his eyes to Methos' and stared back. His gentle smile morphed into an evil grin.
<'You set the stakes for this game, Methos.'>
He'd seen that smile before. Where...? The dark Q. The church. Oh fuck.
<'You told Mac you went with the winner...'>
Methos' eyes widened. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
<'You're his prize for defeating Kronos, and he's ready to claim you.'>
He looked at the collar in his hand. He looked back at Duncan.
<'As far as he's concerned, you belong to him now.'>
MacLeod began to move, shrinking the distance between them.
<'Body and soul.'>
Methos took two steps back and turned to run. But Duncan was between him and the door, and he'd waited a beat too long. The Highlander pounced.