Page 15 of Outlaws’ Runaway

“She’s all ours now,” Crank says with determination.

“Yeah. We won her fair and square.” Savage's voice is low, smooth.

“So fucking beautiful,” whispers Poe, strangely close to my ear, his tone rich and seductive.

Is this a dream? I think it's a dream. Everything feels fuzzy and not quite right, but so very, very real.

I’m caught in a dual awareness. My conscious mind is trying to make sense of what’s happening, while on another level, I’m perfectly happy to spread out for them on the bed, my hands cuffed behind my head. I'm completely naked, only covered by my sheets, and so are they, with the exception of Savage wearing a cowboy hat for some reason. Three glorious male bodies on display just for me. Maybe the porn video that was playing atNeil’s has given me unrealistic expectations of size and girth, but somehow I don’t think so.

Savage is at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling the sheets down, revealing me inch by goosebumped inch. The fabric slips down to reveal my breasts, dragging over my nipples with a tingly smoothness that has them standing proud. And as Poe descends on one nipple and Crank takes the other between his lips, I completely stop caring and let my subconscious take the wheel.

Holy crap.

The sheet slips past my belly button, and it's only moments before all of me will be exposed. This is my fantasy, but I'm still nervous about them seeing all of me—Oh! My back arches as Savage’s hot breath skirts over my sex. It’s not real, I tell myself, but it sure feels it. Suddenly I understand Georgia’s weakness for the idea of having multiple men. Three mouths, three cocks, six hands…So many possibilities.

Poe nips my nipple with his sharp teeth, sending a flash of pleasure-pain through me, then explores his way from my breast, up across my collar bone and onto my throat. Crank captures my released breast with his hand and manipulates my throbbing nipple with his clever fingertips while his tongue circles the other one, sucking it gently between his teeth and then flicking over the tip. The cuffs rattle when I try to bring my hands down to run my fingers through his thick, black hair, but I'm trapped, forced to let them do whatever they want.

My internal feminist throws her hands in the air and goes to make popcorn.

Savage wraps his strong hands around my ankles and tugs my legs apart as he settles between my thighs, so close that his roughstubble tickles the sensitive skin there. He drags his tongue over my clit, his green eyes flashing as he looks up at me. Then Poe distracts me, turning my face to him and slowly lowering his lips to mine. I open to him, and his tongue slips inside just as Savage’s does down below. Crank moves up my other side, pulling me away from Poe and stealing his own kiss.

I gasp into his mouth as pleasure-sparks dance over my skin, radiating out from my worshiped pussy, up through my tingling belly and making me struggle against the handcuffs that are preventing me from touching the guys in turn.

“Are you ready?” Savage growls from low in his chest, like a wild animal barely able to hold back.

“Sssssooo ready,” I hiss.

Poe nips my earlobe. “It’s my turn next.”

Savage’s heavy weight settles between my legs, my thighs spread wide for him. I hook a foot behind his thigh and pull him closer. The hot tip of his cock brushes over my pussy lips. Nudging, demanding. I can’t tell whose hands are whose anymore, because they’re everywhere.

This isn't just sex, it's rapture. Nirvana. The total destruction of self in a sea of pleasure.

I close my eyes and hold my breath, waiting for that first delicious stretch, and the exquisite plunge that follows. Why is he teasing me? I groan and twist my hips. I’m so close, all it will take is just a tiny bit more friction.

“Paige…”

“Baby…”

HOOOOOONK!

Heart pounding and every single nerve ending on fire, my eyes shoot open and the dream dissolves. The blanket and sheets are tangled up in my legs, and my nightgown is pulled all the way up my thigh.

The room is dark, but dim sunlight sneaks in through a gap in the curtains. I have no idea what time it is. I try to sit up, forgetting that my arm is shackled to the bed. “Ow!”

“It was just a car. Go back to sleep.”

I look across to the other bed, where Poe is leaning back on the pillows with his legs stretched out on the bed. There’s an e-reader in his hand, glowing softly, and his long hair is down, spilling over his bare shoulders. He’s gorgeous, lounging there in nothing but his jeans and showing off a body honed to perfection. The tattoo I noticed earlier crawling up his neck is actually just a part of a gorgeous dragon that wraps over his shoulder and around his chest. The tip of the dragon's claw disappears into his low slung jeans, and the urge is strong to follow it all the way down.

“What are you reading?” I whisper.

If it was Crank, I would expect him to say something involving a lot of guns, explosions and sex. If it was Savage… hmm. Maybe The Art of War. But Poe? I have no idea. He hasn’t been as open as the others.

“Nothing. Sleep. It’s still a few hours before we have to get out of here.”

The answer makes me feel like an overeager puppy getting bopped in the nose with a newspaper. “Sorry.”

He sighs. “It’s nothing special. Short stories, Vonnegut.”

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