|Building a Better Mousetrap
Nobody is making any money off of this story. The characters (except for Pandora) and the Highlander universe belong to the corporate suits at Rysher and Panzer/Davis. Rated NC-17 for m/f, and m/m/f sex and lots of nasty language. And just a tiny bit of implied violence. Not including the rough sex.
Thanks to Lum and Olympia and Barb and Penny for comments and criticism, but it's still not their fault. Zen&nan get lots of credit, but no blame. As always, Methos made me do it. Blame him. He's immortal, he can take it.
Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Why do men do all their really important thinking with their dicks? If Duncan isn't careful he's going to drown in his own drool, Amanda snorted to herself.
Rising unsteadily on her stiletto shod feet, Amanda reached down and adjusted what there was of her skirt.
"I need another drink," she announced. Not that anyone appeared to be listening.
"That's nice, Amanda," Duncan replied absently. His gaze never left the woman sitting across from him. The woman who was not Amanda. The woman Amanda was going to kill, first chance she got. Methos' 'old friend,' Pandora. Well, at least the name fit.
As far as Amanda was concerned, Pandora was nothing but trouble. The other woman had arrived out of the blue two days ago, and proceeded to wrap Duncan and Joe around her little finger. She'd apparently had Methos wrapped for years. She'd been alternately ordering him around and smothering him since the moment she arrived. And Methos didn't seem to mind.
Fine. That was Methos' business. Besides, everyone knew Methos was a little off. Well to be honest with herself (and Amanda was always honest with herself), she thought Methos was closer to twisted than was strictly healthy. But that didn't surprise or worry her. Five thousand years gave time to build up some serious kinks.
She'd invited herself into Methos' apartment one night to try to get a better idea of exactly how twisted he might be. After all, she told herself, you never could tell when that sort of information might be really useful. Methos wasn't home at the time, but it probably worked out better that way. Amanda thought she had done some kinky experimenting, but the things she found in Methos' apartment that night gave her a lot to think about.
Retreating to the bar, Amanda considered the other people at the table. Joe. Joe was lost. He hadn't looked up from Pandora's cleavage in the last half-hour. If he did manage to tear his attention away from her chest, he'd probably ask a question even more asinine than his last effort at civilized conversation. Amanda groaned as she remembered.
"How come the Watchers have never heard of you?"
Duh, Joe. The Watcher's have never heard of any of these strange females that keep showing up looking for Methos. It's probably one of the job requirements. Question: are the Watchers aware of you, and if so, can you prove that they're afraid of you? The other qualifications were nauseatingly apparent. First, she must be beautiful, stunning, hypnotic and/or exotic. Second, she must be charming, witty, and at least semi-intelligent. Third, she must have a really irritating belief that she knew what was best for everyone she met. And an even more irritating need to tell them about it.
Amanda couldn't decide which ones she hated most: the new age soul mate types, the exotic, sensual beauties, the ones that looked like lost teenagers, or the earth mothers. All of them had one trait in common that immediately got Amanda's attention. For some unknown reason, they all seemed to want Methos and Duncan in bed with each other.
Amanda just didn't get it. Why would any sane woman, looking at those two hunks, want them in bed with each other instead of with herself? Of course, the operative word here was sane. These were, after all, old friends of Methos'. Sanity was not only not in the job description, it was probably cause for automatic disqualification. Fortunately, MacLeod was truly clueless about some things, and Amanda had no intention of talking about any of Methos' women long enough to point it out to the thick Scot.
Duncan. She was going to have a few things to say to Duncan MacLeod when they got back to the loft. This whole entranced bit he fell into with these women was getting old. Sure, they were all pretty. 'Beautiful, Stunning, hypnotic, exotic,' the little voice in Amanda's mind spoke in Duncan's voice. She glared at the back of the Highlander's head. Amanda was angry enough to seriously consider borrowing some of those 'toys' hidden in Methos' closet.
Taking her drink from the bartender, Amanda wobbled back to the table. As far as she could tell, none of the men had even noticed she was gone. This was definitely not the sort of treatment she was used to receiving. Amanda could be inconspicuous when she wanted to be, but that was usually business. After all, a conspicuous thief was a dead thief. When she put her mind to it she could draw the attention of every man in the room. But not today. Today they didn't know she was alive. This woman had to go. And soon.
I need a plan, Amanda thought. I am not going to put up with this anymore. It's time to deal with the problem of Methos' women, once and for all. First, how to get her away from the men. Shopping. Perfect. What woman could resist shopping?
She was right. It didn't take her more than five minutes to get Pandora to agree to hit the sales with her.
That got the men's attention. The idea of Amanda taking the lovely Pandora away from them, even for just a few hours, brought their heads up in panic. Except Methos. The ancient immortal looked more suspicious than panicked. Amanda smiled sweetly at the older man.
"Don't worry. We'll just pick up a few things to make ourselves irresistible. We'll be back before you know it."
Taking Pandora's arm, Amanda led the unsuspecting woman out the door.
"What are you doing here? Where's Pandora?" Methos craned his neck to see around Amanda. There was no one else there. Uh-oh. This wasn't going to be good news. It never was when Amanda came to visit, and this time she had good reason to be pissed off at him. The question was, did Amanda know that? More importantly, could she prove it?
"Let me in, you low-down, slime covered, devious son of a bitch. Unless you want to have this conversation in the hallway. I'm sure your neighbors would find it vastly entertaining." Ignoring the sword he was holding, Amanda pushed against Methos' bare chest, shoving him out of the doorway and back into his apartment.
"What's going on Amanda? What have you done with Pandora?" Act innocent, Methos told himself. Do the 'Adam' face: naive, innocent, just slightly geeky. It's always worked before. Parting his lips slightly, he widened his green-gold eyes and blinked.
"Nothing pleasant. And save the 'Adam' act, I'm not MacLeod. I'm not that gullible. Methos, what the hell did you think you were going to accomplish?" Removing her jacket, Amanda tossed it over the back of the nearest chair.
"Amanda, is that blood on your blouse?" Methos tried to make his eyes even wider.
"No, it's an incredibly large lipstick stain. Of course it's blood, you idiot. And if you don't want some of yours joining it, you'll stop with the innocent act and answer my questions."
Looking at the determined, not to say pissed off, expression an the lovely immortal's face, Methos sighed and backed up. Obviously 'innocent' wasn't going to work. He should have known better. This was Amanda he was dealing with, and she was much tougher to fool than the Highlander. But then, women usually were.
"I think I'm going to need a drink for this."
"Make me one, too. It's been a long afternoon. But ultimately profitable, I think." Amanda walked over and settled herself on Methos' couch. Crossing her slender legs, she leaned back and made herself comfortable.
Profitable. Methos winced. Moving to get scotch and glasses, he mentally reviewed his various bank accounts. This was Amanda he was dealing with. He could probably buy running time, but it wouldn't be cheap. He contemplated the blood on her designer blouse and silently added another zero to his estimate.
"Speaking of profitable, you owe me five thousand dollars. I paid off the lovely 'Pandora' and sent her on her way. God, what a name! Which one of you picked it? I don't know why you thought this one would work, Methos. How long do you think she could have kept up the little act you taught her? I've known trained circus seals that had more brains than that woman. And she had absolutely no tolerance for pain."
"Silly me. It never occurred to me to list that in the job requirements. Here's your drink."
Sitting in the chair across from Amanda, Methos stretched out his long legs and waited for the axe to fall. God, he hated moving. He wondered how long it would take him to pack this time. If Amanda told Mac what he had been up to, he definitely needed to be prepared to beat a hasty retreat.
"I gathered that. I also gathered that what those requirements consisted of were any qualities you thought would fascinate a certain Scottish Boy Scout. Did you really think one of those newbies you hired would be able to talk Mac into a threesome with you? Really, Methos. I expected better from you. Although it does explain why the Watchers didn't know any of them."
Methos winced and added another zero. Yes, she had definitely figured it out. Why on earth hadn't he held off until Amanda took another of her little excursions? The whole thing could have been so much simpler. Left to themselves, MacLeod and Joe never would have caught on.
"Hey, it took you long enough to figure it out, and I doubt Mac ever would have used your methods of interrogation. And this one was working out pretty well. She certainly had you worried. You didn't kill her did you?"
"Do you really care?"
"Personally, no. But a headless body won't get my deposit back from Rent-an-Immortal."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No. I've got this old friend who's got this business...."
"Well, no. Renting women. I just made sure I rented the immortal ones."
"In other words, your 'old friend' is a pimp."
"Well, yes. And he'll be really pissed if I don't return Pandora in her original condition. What did you do to her anyway?"
"Nothing any woman protecting her turf wouldn't applaud. Don't worry Old Man. I told you, I paid her off and sent her on her way. After she told me what I wanted to know, of course." Amanda grinned at Methos. It wasn't an amused grin. Remembering that Amanda had survived the age of chivalry and helpless women with her pretty head intact, Methos felt his throat tighten and added another zero. He had always suspected Amanda had more eapons and defenses at her disposal than the Highlander was aware of, and it seemed that he was right.
The ancient immortal allowed himself to consider, for one soul-satisfying moment, the very tempting thought of killing Amanda and stuffing her body down the garbage chute. No, it would never work. The quickening would be too close to home, and there was no way her Watcher wouldn't see it. Which meant Joe would figure out it had been him. Which meant Mac would find out. Damn.
Although he would be willing to bet Mac had found himself contemplating the same thing on occasion, the Highlander had obviously been able to resist the temptation. The Boy Scout would probably be really offended if Methos took it upon himself to solve the Amanda problem by taking her head.
It was times like this that Methos really regretted throwing out his Death costume. Death wouldn't have thought twice about skewering the bitch and stuffing her headless body down the garbage chute. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Problem solved.
Of course, Death would never have had an Amanda problem in the first place, because he would have solved the Duncan problem long before it went this far. There were definite drawbacks to this 'civilized behavior' business. Why, in the good old days....
Methos was momentarily distracted by a vivid image of a naked, oiled Highlander chained to a tent pole. Panting. Waiting for Methos to....
This was definitely not the time to indulge in that little fantasy. Although the image of Amanda chained to that post wasn't bad either. Preferably, gagged.
"I'll get you your five thousand dollars. And Amanda, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention this to MacLeod until I've had a chance to put some distance between us. Say, two or three thousand miles. I'll make it worth your while." Methos rose from his chair and went to the desk for his checkbook.
"Just the five thousand I payed out, Methos. I won't take your money under false pretenses. I wasn't planning to tell MacLeod anything."
Methos froze. Amanda didn't want money? She wasn't going to tell MacLeod? Oh God. This was going to be worse than he'd thought. He was pretty much at her mercy here. What was the woman going to do to him? A list of possibilities ran through his mind. Factoring in Amanda's age and probable experience, he revised and extended the list. Some of the possibilities were actually quite enticing.
"Relax, Methos. It's not that bad. I think we can make a deal that will be to our mutual advantage. You know, if you had come to me in the first place, you could have saved yourself a lot of money. And time. I imagine it took a while to train some of those dim bulb women to get their lines right."
"That's not fair, Amanda. Some of them were quite intelligent." Was she suggesting what he thought she was? Maybe he should hold off on the packing.
"Oh please, don't make me gag. An truly intelligent woman would have taken one look at Duncan and given you your money back. Any woman that would take money to get him into bed with another man and then leave, is not playing with a full deck. You should have realized that."
"I did, but I was desperate. And I had no idea you would be amenable to a deal."
"I'm hurt, Methos. I thought you knew me better than that. I'm always willing to listen to...interesting offers."
Better and better. Methos let his gaze wander down Amanda's slender body, lingering slightly on the particularly good bits. He had always assumed she was off limits, but if she was suggesting what he thought she was, the possible combinations were intriguing.
"Actually, the idea of letting you, shall we say, 'sublet,' Duncan has distinct advantages for me. First, I'm sure I can depend on you to at least try to keep him from getting his head taken defending every helpless female that crosses his path. Secondly, I won't have to worry that he'll take up with some possessive bitch and leave me without a place to stay when I'm in town."
"And when you are in town?" Methos jeans were beginning to feel a lot tighter than when he had put them on that morning. He rose and moved to sit beside the lovely immortal. Running one long finger down her arm, he leaned in and began nibbling on her delectable neck.
"That's the third reason. I've never believed in that 'two's company' crap. Three can be very entertaining. If it's the right three." She tasted wonderful. And the hand she was running up the inside of his thigh had definitely captured his attention.
"And how do we go about talking the Boy Scout into this? The man is strictly hetero, Amanda." Uhmmm. Lovely neck.
"Methos, Methos. Have faith. Duncan can be very...persuadable. You just have to catch him at the right moment. Besides, I don't think he's above temptation. I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching."
Methos pulled his lips from Amanda's neck and looked at her face. She didn't look like she was kidding.
"Me? MacLeod looks at me?" Amanda's hand had moved to cup his groin. It was getting a lot harder for Methos to concentrate.
"All the time. He gets this really silly expression. He looks confused, and hot, and like he's trying to sneeze, all at the same time. I'm sure all he needs is a little push in the right direction. He's over four hundred years old, after all. It's time the Highlander expanded his repertoire."
"I almost wish I could be there to see his face when you make that particular suggestion."
"You will be." With one last squeeze of Methos' groin, Amanda rose from the couch and reached for her purse. "Come on. Mac's out on another one of his opera nights. We need to get things set up in the loft before he gets back."
"Amanda, exactly what are you planning?"
"Try to keep up, Methos. It's soooo simple. We're going to let Duncan catch us in the act."
"Are you sure that's a good idea? Why don't we just stay here and rehearse?" Methos ran his hand up her leg and under her skirt as she stood in front of him. Hose and garters. Wonderful. Methos had dealt with chastity belts that weren't as much trouble as pantyhose.
"Trust me. All this situation needs is a woman's touch. It'll be perfect."
"Trust you? You're not the one he'll be chasing around the loft! Well, not with a sword, anyway."
"Don't worry so much. I won't let him kill you. Really Methos, we can't be subtle here. MacLeod doesn't get subtle. That's why none of those women you threw at him worked. Your whole intricate little plot went right over his head. The whole scenario was too subtle, too devious, too Machiavellian. It was just too you, Methos."
"Coming from you, I'll take that as a complement."
"It was intended as one. I do admire the way your mind works, you know. You and I actually have quite a lot in common."
"That's a rather frightening thought."
"I know. Gives me goosebumps."
"I don't think that's what giving you the goosebumps, dear heart."
The hand under her skirt had reached the joining of her legs and was gently stroking her through her silk panties. Methos could feel the soft fabric growing slick and damp under his touch. Grasping her hip, he pulled her closer until she was standing directly between his spread legs. Watching her face, he maneuvered his fingers under the leg of her panties and into her hot center. God, yes. Amanda was wet and ready. He was beginning to understand why Mac hadn't taken her head. Holding her still with one hand, he began slowly thrusting two fingers of the other into her body.
"Methos," Amanda gasped. "Wait."
"Why? A little practice won't hurt." Methos continued moving his fingers in and out of her body. He could feel her starting to tremble in his grasp. His own hands were none to steady either. He needed to get out of his jeans soon or risk serious injury. Preferably out of his jeans and into Amanda.
"I said wait, not stop." Amanda stepped back out of Methos grasp. Thirty seconds later her panties were on the floor, and her skirt was pulled up around her waist. Her nimble fingers were busily engaged in freeing Methos from the over tight confinement of his jeans and boxers. Lifting his hips, Methos let her pull the offending garments down his legs and off. As soon as he was free, he grasped her waist and pulled her down to straddle his hips.
Bracing herself against the back of the couch with one hand, Amanda reached between their bodies with the other. Methos groaned as her fingers closed around his swollen cock, guiding it to the entrance to her body. Feeling her wet heat teasing the head of his cock, he pulled down on her hips and with one thrust seated himself completely inside the tight passage. Surprised, Amanda gave a littlt grunt. Methos was not a small man, and his sudden entry had been wonderfully abrupt.
Methos kept his hands on her hips to control their speed and rhythm, while Amanda braced her arms on the back of the couch and supplied the leverage. Slowly, they began to rock against each other.
"Uhmmm, feels good, Methos. I just knew we would work well together."
"Darling Amanda, we've got over six thousand years of experience between us. If we couldn't make it work, we should both take vows of celibacy."
"God Methos, you feel so big inside me." Amanda leaned forward and began moving rapidly. A look of intense pain twisted Methos features as he gazed up at her flushed face.
"Please, Amanda. I enjoy a little pain with my sex as well as the next masochist, but spare me the cliches." Sliding one hand down her stomach, he paused just above their joined bodies and began running his fingers through her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Looking more closely, Methos blinked.
"Amanda, is that a rabbit?"
"Uhmmm. Oooh. What?"
"Is your pubic hair really trimmed in the shape of a rabbit?"
"It's supposed to be a kitten."
"A kitten? It looks more like a rabbit to me." Suddenly afraid he might have offended her, Methos added "but I guess the angle would make artistic efforts difficult."
"Do I look like the kind of woman who would do that to herself? Duncan did it. Methos, a little more concentration on your part would be a good thing right about now." Amanda shifted her balance and added a clockwise rotation to her vertical movements.
"Sorry. The Easter bunny sort of threw me." Methos' fingers continued their interrupted journey down her body. Easing between the warm folds of flesh, he found the small nub and began rubbing it with gentle expertise. Counterclockwise.
"Kitten, not bunny. Oh yes. That's more like it."
"Duncan really did that? Why?"
"He's young, Methos. And he's got all that romance and chivalry shtick he hasn't worked through yet. Remember that. He likes all those cliches."
"The whole 'fuck me harder, you magnificent stallion' line, huh?"
"Not quite that bad. He likes to talk during sex, but this much conversation isn't exactly what he has in mind. And speaking of cliches, shut up and fuck me harder..."
Methos lifted the complaining woman off of his lap and positioned her on her knees on the couch. Moving behind her he grabbed her hips and pushed his aching cock back into her hot, wet sheath. The leverage was on his side now, and Methos used it to pound relentlessly into Amanda's oh-so-willing body. He felt her start to tremble as her muscles began to spasm around his probing cock. He thrust into her twice more before he felt his balls tighten with imminent release. Grabbing her hips, he held her tightly against his body as his cock began pumping semen deep into her womb.
"Oh God, yes! Fuck me harder, you magnificent stallion!"
It was too much. Bodies still convulsing, they collapsed on the couch.
A few minutes later, Amanda pushed a still snickering Methos to one side and sat up. Wiping tears of laughter from her face, she stood and walked to the telephone, shedding the rest of her clothes on the way.
"You're right, Methos. We definitely need more rehearsal time. Let's worry about Duncan tomorrow."
"Whatever you say, Miss Scarlett," Methos responded, laughing as she grimaced at his deliberately overdone southern accent. "Are you calling Mac?"
"Of course. He'll worry if I don't show up. I'll just leave a message that I'm tied up with an old friend."
"I can arrange that." Methos grinned and stretched out on the couch.
Amanda stopped dialing for a moment and admired the lean, well defined muscles of his chest and legs, then let her gaze rest on the appetizing parts in between.
"I'm sure you can, sweetie. Let me make this call, then we'll discuss who gets to be tied up."
"Good. And Amanda? Don't call me 'sweetie'."
"What do you want me to call you?"
"'Methos' works for me. It's been a long time since anyone's used my real name during sex." He grinned up at her. "On the other hand, I'm becoming rather fond of 'magnificent stallion.'"
"How are we going to work this, Amanda?" Setting his empty coffee cup on the counter, Methos reached out and ran his fingers through her chin length her hair.
"Very carefully. Just go along with anything I say. And remember, this is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod we're seducing. You're going to have to be the submissive one. At least the first time, anyway. We don't want to scare him."
"We don't?" Moving around behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back against his body.
"Methos, behave. Don't you want this to work? Stop that and let me think." Those talented hands were much too distracting first thing in the morning.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, dear. I can do submissive." Leaning down, he tickled the back of her ear with his tongue.
"I'll just bet you can." God. Those hands. That mouth. That wonderful long cock growing hard against her ass.
"What does that mean?"
One of 'those hands' wandered up under the t-shirt she had liberated from his dresser. Amanda was finding it more and more difficult to believe she had known this man for over three years without jumping into his bed. What had she been thinking?
"Nothing. No, really, Methos. I just meant that with five thousand years of experience, you can probably play any role. In bed, I mean."
Five thousand years that he had obviously put to good use. The other one of 'those hands' moved down and cupped her through the thin material of her skirt, fingers pressing rhythmically against her. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Amanda that books were not all Methos had spent his time studying.
"Uh-huh. I'm sure that's exactly what you meant. And how do we get to the point where I give my Oscar winning performance as Little Miss Submissive of 1998?"
Mustering all the self control a thousand years of living had taught her, Amanda pulled away from Methos and turned to face him. His eyes were dark with desire. His lips parted, and the talented, agile tongue that had driven her crazy for half the night flicked out to moisten his thin upper lip. Taking a deep breath Amanda stepped further back, wishing, not for the first time, that she had been a better student when life was busy doing all that teaching.
"That's the easy part. We just let him catch us in his bed. Then Duncan's natural instincts will do the rest."
"I don't think so, dear. Fucking you in his bed? Mac's natural instinct is going to be to kill me. At the very least, he'll beat the shit out of me."
"That's what I'm counting on."
"Hey! No pain, no gain."
He growled at her. He actually, literally, growled at her. For a brief moment, Amanda could see Death looking at her behind Methos' eyes. A shiver of anticipation coursed through her before she could control it. MacLeod probably wouldn't find that side of Methos appealing at all, but she made a note to do a little exploring on her own. Later.
"Methos, there are three things you need to remember if this is going to work. First, fighting gets Duncan really hot."
"Amanda, I know it's a stretch, but try to make sense here. Letting MacLeod take my head just to get him hot and bothered would defeat our whole purpose."
"Kind of depends on which of your heads he takes, doesn't it?" Amanda knew she was living dangerously, but what the hell. A girl had to have some fun, and he was so damned cute when he got pissed. Just to be on the safe side, she maneuvered to put the couch between them.
"Amanda!" Rats. She'd been hoping he would growl at her again.
"Sorry. It was just such an obvious straight line. I couldn't resist."
"Okay. I really did just mean fighting, not killing. It gets him all hot and horny, and that adrenaline has to go somewhere, so he channels it into sexual energy."
"Do you mean to tell me that every time we spar and I piss him off..."
"Some of the best sex I've ever had. Thanks for that, by the way."
"You really owe me, Amanda."
"Not after today, I won't."
"If this so-called plan of yours works, that is. You said 'three things.' What's the second one?"
"Remember last night I told you that Duncan's attracted to you?"
"I remember. I also remember that you arrived at this earth shattering revelation because he looked like he wanted to sneeze. Impressive deduction."
"Well, it's a little bit more than that. You see, Methos, sometimes he has these dreams."
"What kind of dreams?"
"He won't tell me." Oh, that was nice. Amanda had thought he was cute when he got pissed, but total confusion made him look absolutely delicious. She'd have to remember that. It was definitely safer than making him angry.
"So how, exactly, are these dreams that he won't tell you about going to help us?"
"He mumbles your name over and over, then he wakes up horny as hell. And he's called me Methos a couple of times during sex. We both pretended not to notice."
"Oh." Amanda wondered what to label that expression. Dreamy? Lustful? Not orgasmic, she'd seen that one last night. She settled for 'horny schoolgirl' and moved on.
"So, he wants you, and fighting makes him horny. All we have to do is push the guilt button and we've got him right where we want him."
"The guilt button?"
"Uh-huh. MacLeod thinks he invented the concept of guilt. He's the Guilt King of the Universe. Nobody can do guilt with the passion Duncan can."
"Now you've really lost me. It seems to me he would expect me to feel guilty. What is MacLeod going to feel guilty about, and more importantly, how does it get me fucked in the end? And don't say it."
"I won't, but you're making it really hard. Try to keep up, Methos. It's not really that complicated. We're mixing an emotional cocktail."
"An emotional cocktail. Right. Amanda?"
"Later. I've got to hear the rest of this. Keep going."
"Okay, let me lay it out for you. Duncan walks in, we've obviously been fucking. By the way, we'll need to really do that. The bed should smell like you and me and sex. It'll drive him crazy."
"I like that part. Your attention to detail is impressive. Go on."
"He screams, he yells, he gets pissed and starts to beat the shit out of you."
"That's the part I'm not too wild about. How do we keep him from actually killing me? You do have a contingency plan for that, don't you?"
"That's the easy part. You just have to do two things. Don't fight back and end up on the bed. You can try to avoid him, but don't fight him."
"You've lost your mind. Mac will definitely expect me to fight back. He'll smell a rat if I don't."
"No, he'll assume you're feeling too guilty to fight back."
"Amanda, it won't work. He knows I don't do guilt. I told him so."
"Trust me Methos. It doesn't matter what you told him. Mac would never really believe someone doesn't "do" guilt."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Please. I've been pushing MacLeod's buttons for several hundred years now. I've got them mapped."
"Fine. We've reached the moment in your plan where I'm lying on the bed letting him beat me senseless. I assume at this point you'll be standing to the side laughing your ass off at how gullible I was. What happens next? Is this where you hand him his sword?"
"No, this is where Duncan starts feeling guilty. You've pissed him off, but you won't fight back. He wants you, he's been fighting so he's horny, the bed smells like sex, and if you're as good as I think you are, you should be underneath him by now. At this point he won't know whether to kill you, comfort you, or fuck you."
"So what tips the balance?"
"That's my cue. I told you, I know where all his buttons are. I'll just push the ones labeled 'fuck Methos.'"
"Do you want to fuck MacLeod or not?"
"Amanda, we're going to piss him off so badly he'll never speak to either one of us again."
"Do you want to fuck Duncan MacLeod or not?"
"I want to fuck MacLeod."
"Have you got a better idea? Something better than Rent-an-Immortal, anyway?"
They stared at each other across the room. Amanda could actually see the indecision in his thoughts, as his expressions changed. Adam, Methos, Death. Adam, Methos, Death. Oh, that one was interesting, she thought. I wonder who that was?
"Tell me something, Amanda. Besides someone to ward off helpless and lusty females when you're not around, what do you get out of this?"
Amanda grinned and walked over to where the ancient immortal was perched on the arm of the couch. Taking his face in her hands, she leaned forward and whispered to him.
"My magnificent stallion. Haven't you figured that out yet? I get to watch."
God I'm good! Amanda congratulated herself. Everything had gone just like she had promised Methos it would. And MacLeod hadn't even hurt him that badly. Yet. A couple of bruises, a bloody lip. In immortal terms, barely a scratch. Now Duncan was sitting on Methos hips, pinning the nude older immortal face down to the bed. Neither of the men had moved in over two minutes. My cue, she told herself. Moving on to the bed, she crawled up behind Duncan and slid her hands down his back.
"Do you want him, Duncan?" She whispered into his ear. "Do you want to shove your cock into that tight, hot ass and feel him dancing beneath you? You can have him, Duncan. Just reach out and take him. He won't fight you. He wants it just as much as you do."
Duncan groaned and closed his eyes, but he didn't move away. Amanda could see the muscles in his ass flexing as he rubbed his groin against Methos' ass. Reaching between them, she opened Duncan's jeans and pushed them down his hips. Mac raised first one knee, then the other, letting her draw the jeans and boxers off his legs. Amanda's experienced fingers ran under his shirt, pausing briefly to caress his nipples before lifting it over his head.
"You want him to fuck you, don't you Methos? You want that big, hard cock shoving into you as hard as he can do it. Don't you?"
Methos mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and pushed himself up to kneel on the bed, rubbing his ass against the Highlander's aroused cock. Close enough, Amanda thought.
"Amanda," Duncan asked, "God. Why are you doing this?"
"I want to see it, Duncan. I want to watch while the two of you fuck each other's brains out. Look at him, Duncan. The tight muscles, the smooth, white skin. And he's so hot for you." Amanda ran her slender hands down Methos' ass. Dipping her long fingers into the cleft, she separated the cheeks and ran a finger lightly over Methos puckered opening. Duncan's breath was coming in gasps, and his eyes never left her hands. Perfect.
Amanda's hand moved briefly to her own body, then back to Methos'. Pressing gently, she eased her finger inside, lubricating the tight hole with her own fragrant juices. Methos moaned and pushed back against her probing hand. MacLeod's eyes began to glaze over.
Crawling to the head of the bed, Amanda leaned against the headboard and spread her legs. Bending one knee, she ran one hand down between her legs, fingers dipping into herself and withdrawing to spread the glistening moisture up into her pubic hair. With the other hand she kneaded and tweaked her erect nipples. Duncan remained kneeling over Methos, watching her, the head of his prick pressed between the cheeks of the ancient Immortal's ass.
Methos neck was bent, his head hanging down between his arms. That would never do.
"Methos, look at me," Amanda whispered. He raised his head and met her eyes. He was beautiful. His normally pale face was flushed with passion, sweat beaded above his delicate upper lip. The sensitive mouth was parted slightly as he breathed, the glowing green-gold eyes silently pleading with her to get on with it. Amanda smiled at him, puckered her lips and blew him a kiss.
"Do it, Duncan. Do it for me. Now. Fuck him hard. I want to hear him scream."
Duncan's fingers pressed bruisingly into the skin of Methos' hips as he drew the other man back toward him and on to his cock. The tight ring of muscle began to yield to the pressure and MacLeod felt the heat of Methos' body closing around him.
"God, MacLeod! What are you waiting for? I'm not fragile, damn it. Fuck me!"
"Are you sure you can take this, Old Man?"
"I can take it Highlander. Just get on with it."
Methos' skin whitened around Duncan's fingers as the younger immortal tightened his grip, then abruptly jerked the slender hips back toward him, impaling Methos on the hot column of flesh with one stroke.
"Jesus bloody hell!" Methos bucked and nearly came off the bed as while hot pain radiated thru his ass.
God they're so beautiful like this, Amanda thought. She could feel the heat building between her thighs as she watched the two men in front of her on the bed. Methos was sobbing as he pushed himself back and further on to Duncan's swollen cock.
This is what she had wanted, to see the two of them on fire and out of control. Duncan never would have let himself reach this state with a woman. The romantic Highlander, always so very careful not to hurt a woman during sex, was pounding into Methos' ass harder and faster as he watched his now blood-smeared cock appearing and disappearing between the cheeks of his friends ass. The idea of treating a woman like this would have nauseated Duncan, but the blood beginning to run freely down Methos' thighs seemed to be exciting him to even more violent thrusts. And Methos wasn't exactly complaining either.
Bracing his hands on either side of the body bucking beneath him, the muscles in MacLeod's strong thighs were flexing and tensing as he used all of his strength to thrust into Methos' willing body. His upper body was stretched across Methos' back, his sweat drenched hair whipping stinging needles of sweat into Amanda's face as she moved closer.
"Take it Methos," Duncan grunted. His chest was heaving and the sound of his balls slapping against Methos thighs gave an erotic rhythm to his speech.
"Take. Every. God. Damned. Inch. Yes! You love it don't you, Old Man?"
Amanda reached down between her legs and rubbed herself frantically as the two beautiful male bodies strained and fought each other, racing toward their completion. The pale skin of Methos' hips was covered with deep blue bruises where MacLeod had clenched strong fingers into his flesh, his thighs and ass were splattered and smeared with his own blood, flung there by the violent thrusts of MacLeod's cock into his ass. Amanda could feel the hot moisture leaking from her cunt on to her thighs as she watched.
When she and Methos had fucked in his apartment, he had been almost scarily remote. Totally in control, he had manipulated her body with expert precision, even as he fucked her and carried on a conversation.
Not now. Now Methos was totally out of control. The sarcastic, remote scholar was gone, and a wild primitive creature had taken his place. The screaming sounds coming from his throat might have been words once, but Amanda doubted it. His long, lean muscles were tense, the lines of his throat corded and taut. As she watched, he moaned deeply and his arms collapsed under him, dropping his head to the bed.
MacLeod growled deep in this throat and moved his hands to Methos' chest, jerking the other man upright. Pressed tightly against the Highlander's heaving body, the moans turned to sobs.
"Amanda." She looked up, surprised Duncan could spare breath to speak. His deep brown eyes were hooded, his face flushed and contorted with strain, but he spoke without slowing his brutal thrusts.
"Jerk him off."
Amanda looked down. Methos' long, swollen cock was bouncing against his stomach. Oh yes, it was time for her to get in on this. Removing her hand from between her legs, Amanda rose to her knees and reached for Methos. Gently grasping his leaking cock she ran her fingers down to the base, spreading the slick moisture from her body on to his.
"No Amanda. Hard and fast," Mac grunted at her. The lovely immortal felt the muscles in her groin clench in pleasant anticipation. Duncan never gave orders during sex. Requests and pleas, yes. But never orders. Oh, yes, Methos was going to be a nice addition to Amanda's toy box. She licked her lips and began pumping Methos' cock. Hard and fast, just like the Highlander had ordered.
Mac paused and adjusted his position on the bed. Deciding Duncan needed more leverage, Amanda moved closer to Methos and sat back on her heels. Putting her free arm around his chest, she took the older immortal from MacLeod's arms and let his weight settle against her body. His head fell to her shoulder.
"Keep going, Duncan," she whispered harshly.
"Don't stop, MacLeod." They were the first intelligible words Methos had spoken since the "Jesus bloody hell" he screamed when Mac entered him.
Amanda looked down at the hard, leaking cock in her hand. "He loves it Duncan. Trust me. If you stop now, I may help him kill you."
Duncan started moving again. Amanda braced herself as Methos' body was shoved violently against hers. She trapped his cock between her hand and her pubic hair, enjoying the heavenly pressure stimulating her throbbing clit as they were both rocked by MacLeod's increasingly frantic motions. Methos sobbed again and clutched her tightly. Whatever he was murmuring over and over into her neck wasn't in any language with which Amanda was familiar, but it didn't sound like any version of 'stop.'
Suddenly, Methos threw his head back and moved his hands to clench Amanda's shoulders. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, but he was beyond screaming now. His body began to convulse, his prick spurting hot cum on to her stomach and chest. As Amanda watched, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went limp in her arms. She tightened her arms around him and held him upright as the Highlander continued to thrust into him.
Mac thrust hard once, twice more, then threw his head back and howled at the ceiling. His fingernails were leaving bloody scratches across Methos' chest, but Amanda doubted Methos could feel it. The last drops of semen dripped out of the ancient immortals' cock onto Amanda's hand as Mac trembled and heaved behind him, emptying his balls deep into Methos' ass.
Finally, with the first tenderness he had shown, Mac separated from his friend. Taking the limp body from Amanda's arms he lowered Methos to the blood-flecked sheets. Then MacLeod leaned over and collapsed across the foot of the bed.
Amanda let him breath for a minute before she moved over and ran her fingers down his softened cock, mixing her juices and Methos' with the semen and blood on MacLeod's groin.
"Nice touch, that gentle bit at the end. Wasted effort though. The old man's out cold."
"Really?" Mac looked at the other man's motionless body and grinned. "Well, what do you know. It is possible to shut him up." The Highlander looked insufferably pleased with himself. Amanda grinned and let him enjoy the moment. She was proud of her lover. After all, not just any man could fuck the world's oldest immortal until he passed out. She'd always known Duncan was special. Gifted even.
Not just any man could have planned an encounter like this, even with her expert help. Hundreds of years they had been lovers, and the Highlander still managed to surprise her. When he'd come to her with his little scheme to get Methos into his bed, she had been amazed all over again at his creative imagination, not to mention his good taste.
They both owed her for this one. She just wouldn't tell Duncan about Methos' little schemes, or vice versa. After all, right now they both considered her a partner in their individual conspiracies. That could come in handy. A girl never knew when she might need a little extra leverage.
Amanda pressed a quick kiss on Duncan's lips then rose and went into the bathroom. After cleaning the sticky mess off her chest and stomach, she returned and threw several damp cloths at Duncan before walking toward the kitchen. If she remembered correctly, there were several bottles of expensive champagne in Duncan's fridge.
"Thanks, Amanda. For everything."
"You're welcome. Clean him too, while you're at it." Mac looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"It's one of the house rules, isn't it?" She asked innocently. "You make a mess, you clean it up. And you certainly made a mess of Methos."