Broken Arrow [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Read online

  They ate at a small sandwich shop on Venice Island that the men had heard about.

  “So how long were you in the service?” Cody asked.

  He’d caught her in midsip of her iced tea, which she then proceeded to cough all over the table. As the men helped her mop it up, she choked out, “How’d you know about that?”

  She was pretty sure she hadn’t mentioned that at dinner or during the day, and knew Eliza and Rusty wouldn’t have talked about that without asking her first, either.

  “I saw the pictures on the wall at your shop,” he said. “When we picked the truck up yesterday. I didn’t notice them Wednesday night. Well, I did, but I didn’t look closely at them.”

  “Ah.”

  I really need to take those damn pictures down.

  But she knew if she did, sure as hell, either Bob or Carl would notice and tell her dad, or her dad would notice the next time he came to the shop for a visit.

  “If it’s something you don’t want to talk about,” Cody said, “we understand, and I’m sorry.”

  Hell, if these two were going to become long-term friends, why not talk to them about it? It might come up again at some point.

  “Yeah, I was in.”

  She found herself opening up to them, about everything.

  Including how she’d received her discharge.

  And how her mom died.

  And her dad and his long road back to independence and recovery.

  It felt kind of cathartic to talk about it, really.

  “So that’s me,” she finished up. “A broken arrow. Or, bent, maybe. Still trying to figure out how to straighten myself out after all these years.”

  “Is that why you have the limp?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah. I run three days a week. Or walk, or jog, or whatever my legs’ll let me do on any given day.”

  “Why didn’t you ever get back into SCA?” Cody asked. “It sounds like you really used to love it.”

  “I…do. I did.” She forced that smile. “I tried. Eliza and Rusty begged me to get active again, but…combat. Real or simulated, I just couldn’t deal with it with my PTSD. I haven’t tried again recently, though. That was over ten years ago. I’ve made a lot of progress since then. Maybe I should.”

  Not to mention the Ren Fair crowds had almost triggered a panic attack in her the first time she’d tried going back.

  It’d ended with her sobbing in her car, alone, before driving home less than an hour after they’d arrived.

  “We’d be happy to go with you, if you’d like,” Justin said. “It sounds like it’d be fun.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see. I’ve been out of it for a long time. If I decide to, I’ll let you know.” She still went out of her way to avoid large crowds. The restaurant Wednesday night had taxed her to the max, maybe another reason she’d found it so easy to lapse into deep conversations with the men. A pleasant distraction from her discomfort.

  “But enough about me,” she said. “What do you guys do for fun besides watch The Walking Dead?”

  * * * *

  Justin hoped she hadn’t noticed how hard he kicked Cody under the table when his boneheaded partner asked her about her military service. But once that subject had been raised, she’d opened up to them.

  He spotted her vulnerability despite it being carefully hidden, and wished he could do something, anything, to ease her emotional burden.

  “Not a lot, actually,” Justin said. “Not with work as crazy as it’s been. We’re hoping we can start planning to build our house soon. So what do you think about getting together for a zombie-watching evening tomorrow night? We’ll buy pizzas.”

  “You’re already buying me lunch,” she said. “And you drove.”

  “I know. But Eliza will quit bugging us to get a social life if we get together with you and hang out.” That wasn’t exactly the full truth, but he suspected it would resonate with her.

  And it did. She laughed. “Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?” She cocked her head and seemed to be studying him. “Okay, sure. My place tomorrow night, then. Six thirty. Anything but anchovies on the pizzas is fine with me.”

  “That’ll piss Dixon off,” Cody said.

  “Yeah, well, the furry little mofo tried to chew one of my bowstrings before you got there this morning, so he can just suck it up.”

  After lunch they took her home. A few minutes later, when they pulled into their driveway, Cody said, “You didn’t have to kick me so damn hard, dude.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what? She talked. She opened up to us.”

  “True.” He glanced at Cody. “Still want to go to the club tonight?”

  “Yeah. Maybe make dinner, too.”

  “You’d better text Tony and tell him we’re coming for the head count then.”

  “I will.” Cody made no move to get out. “I really like her,” he quietly said. “I had almost talked myself into thinking I was making way too much out of this far too soon, but after this morning, I like her even more. Is that crazy?”

  “No, because I like her even more, too.”

  * * * *

  Cody was relieved to hear Justin admit his feelings for Brooke. Somehow, he really wanted to make this work with her, if she’d be open to it once she got to know them a little better.

  They spent the next couple of hours doing housework and catching up on laundry and the other chores they usually did on Saturday mornings. When it came time to get ready to head out for dinner and the club, they climbed into the shower.

  Cody couldn’t get Brooke’s blue eyes out of his mind, the sadness in her expression when she opened up to them about her injuries, about losing her mom.

  About what she’d been through with her dad.

  Justin wrapped his arms around Cody. “What are you thinking about so hard there, mister?”

  “Brooke.”

  “I should have guessed. I have a way to distract you.” He slid one hand up Cody’s back, grabbed a fistful of hair, tipped his head back, and kissed him, hard.

  Cody let him take charge. His cock responded, thickening, hardening against Justin’s thigh as he felt his partner’s cock reply in same.

  Justin pulled back enough to look down into his eyes, his playfully evil green gaze, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners, telegraphing his amusement. “I don’t think I can wait until after we get home from the club tonight.”

  “We might miss dinner.”

  “Dinner, schminner. We’ve got two cocks in dire need of attention. That trumps dinner.”

  Cody stepped back, making Justin release him. He leaned out of the shower and grabbed a tube of lube from the medicine cabinet. Holding it up, he said, “Shower sex it is. Assume the position.”

  So much for letting Justin take charge.

  One thing they loved about the shower in this bathroom, even though it didn’t have a tub, it was large enough for the two of them to fool around in. Justin smiled and slid to the floor, wiggling under the warm water until he was on his back and had his knees pulled up to his chest, exposing his ass to Cody.

  “That’s more like it.” Cody knelt between his legs, leaning in and licking, sucking Justin’s sac, his cock, making the man moan as his eyes dropped closed.

  “That’s right,” Cody said. “You just lie there and enjoy this. I’ll do all the work right now.”

  “You are so getting your ass plowed when we get home,” Justin rasped.

  “That’s fine, but for right now, I’m pitching.” He squirted lube down the crack of Justin’s ass and over two of his own fingers, and started loosening the man’s hole.

  Justin moaned, his cock twitching.

  Cody leaned in again and circled the base of Justin’s cock with his other hand and slowly laved his lips and tongue all over it, exploring the slit, enjoying the tangy pre-cum already leaking from him.

  Finger-fucking the man, he knew he could easily get him to bust a nut like this, but Cody wanted his cock inside Justin, feeling him come when
it happened.

  After long minutes of teasing that finally had Justin begging for relief, Cody slowly removed the fingers from Justin’s ass, added more lube, and went for three, just to be sure.

  More begging commenced. Cody finally couldn’t take it. He lubed up his own cock and pressed the knob against his partner’s hole. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want your fucking cock, Cody. Dammit, give it to me.”

  He slowly pressed forward, retreating, teasing even more, taking his time working it past Justin’s tight ring. Once he’d completely breached Justin’s hole, he paused, cupping Justin’s sac in his hand. “Was that a little desperation in your tone, there?”

  “Fuck, you are sooo getting tied down tonight and stuffed with the biggest goddamned—oh!” While Justin was ranting, Cody grinned and pistoned his hips forward, fully impaling his lover on his shaft.

  “Fuck yeah!” Justin gasped. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Cody leaned forward and reached under Justin’s shoulders, holding on as he started fucking him on the slippery tile floor. Like this, he could hold his own climax back for a while. He was more interested in watching and listening to Justin’s moans, the way his ass grabbed at his cock on every withdrawal and the way he grunted with pleasure at every thrust.

  Cody released Justin and sat up, pulling his lover’s ankles all the way onto his shoulders. Leaning in close again, now with Justin pinned and helpless, he reached between them and found the man’s cock. He cupped his hand around it, pressing it against his own belly.

  “Tell me what you want,” Cody said.

  “You know what I want, dammit.”

  “Beg me for it.”

  “Son of a—make me come, dammit. Please!”

  He slowly fucked Justin, the friction of his body rubbing against the man’s cock forcing Justin closer to the edge. All Justin could do was hold on, his hands grabbing at Cody’s shoulders.

  “You want to come,” Cody said, “then you do it for me now, like this.”

  “Fuck,” he whispered, sounding close. “It feels sooo damn good.”

  “You like my cock deep in your ass, don’t you?”

  “You know I do.”

  “I do, too. I especially love feeling your ass squeezing me when you come. Maybe I’ll be the one tying you down tonight, doing some edging with you and making you beg to come while I keep my cock deep in your—”

  “Ah!” Justin’s hips tried to buck, to rock, but Cody’s body had him pinned to the shower floor. That was all right, because just before Cody felt Justin’s warm cum flooding over his hand, he felt Justin’s ass deliciously spasming around his cock.

  “That’s what I wanted,” he said, picking up the pace and finally letting go of Justin’s cock. “I wanted to feel that first.” Now he gave Justin the brutal fuck he knew the man loved, the sound of their flesh slapping together even louder than the shower spray hitting the tile walls and floor and them. It didn’t take him but a few strokes to explode, filling the man’s ass with his cum until they both lay, spent, on the shower floor.

  Cody finally started moving first. “I think I need a nap.” He untangled himself from Justin, withdrew, and sat back against the wall as Justin sat up.

  Justin leaned in, resting against him. “Ditto. We usually get to sleep in on Saturdays.”

  “Nap, then the club,” Cody said. “Seconded?”

  “Second.”

  “Motion carries.” He kissed Justin. “Now we still have to finish taking our shower.”

  Chapter Ten

  Yes, Brooke wore the peacock tunic and leggings that Eliza threatened to steal from her.

  If nothing else, to torture her friend with them.

  The men hadn’t asked for details about what she was doing tonight. She’d just said dinner with some friends.

  Which was, technically, correct and truthful.

  Eliza and Rusty were friends. And she’d even previously met some of the other people who’d be there tonight. While not “friends” they were acquaintances, which was close enough to the generic use of “friends” to technically be in the same church of the truth, even if not exactly in the same pew.

  When her friends arrived five minutes early, Brooke set the alarm and walked out the front door before Eliza could get out and come get her.

  “Damn you, woman. You’re taunting me, aren’t you?” Eliza flashed her a grin. “You look maaahvelous.”

  “Thank you.” Brooke slid into the backseat. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

  “Hey, if you decide at any time tonight you want to leave, just say the word and we’ll go. Fair enough?”

  “Yeah. So what, exactly, am I getting myself into?”

  “Well, you’re in luck,” Rusty said. “Kel is doing a rope suspension demo at eight. Unfortunately, that means they won’t be at dinner tonight.”

  They ate at Sigalo’s, another nice Italian restaurant, and fortunately, while busy, it was less crowded than the restaurant had been on Wednesday night. Brooke didn’t miss that Eliza positioned Rusty on Brooke’s other side, protectively penning her in.

  Everyone at dinner was, as she’d expected, very nice and welcoming. Yes, Mike and Jenny were there, as were another couple, Bill and Gabe, whom she remembered seeing Wednesday night but had pegged as gamers, not kinky.

  Tilly had sat across the table from her. “Remember, anyone gives you any shit tonight, you come get me.”

  “I’m with her,” Eliza said, laughing. “What about me?”

  “You don’t have my rep,” Tilly said.

  “She’s right,” Gilo added. “Just speaking Tilly’s name is enough to make grown Doms piddle.” He smirked as he took a sip of his tea. “Not to mention some of us SAMs.”

  “SAMs?” Brooke asked.

  “Long story,” several people within earshot said before they started softly laughing.

  “I’ll explain later,” Eliza promised.

  When they were heading to the club, Brooke tried to relax, but she wondered what Cody and Justin were doing tonight. Absolutely, she was looking forward to tomorrow night. Two hotties, pizza, and zombies?

  Yes, please.

  She turned her cell phone off and left it in their car. Eliza had explained the basics of the club’s rules to her: no sex, no drugs, no alcohol, no cell phones, no pictures, no touching anything or anyone without asking, be polite, and have fun.

  It wasn’t very likely anyone would hit on her since she was with Eliza and Rusty, but being hit on wasn’t exactly her fear.

  Being hit, however, was.

  The club was located in a nondescript industrial warehouse complex just east of I-75. Over a dozen cars sat parked in the lot close to the office entrance. Before they exited the car to head inside, Eliza turned and looked back at her.

  “Do you think you’ll be okay tonight? With the PTSD?”

  Brooke took a breath. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “I remember when you tried the Ren Fair that time.”

  “That was years ago.”

  “I know. I’m just saying, it’s okay if you can’t—”

  Rusty laid a hand on Eliza’s arm. “She wants to try this. Let her. It’s okay. We’ve got her back and she knows it.”

  Eliza flashed her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I can’t help it. Sometimes I go into mom mode with you.”

  “Mom mode? At a BDSM club?”

  “Well, kinky mom mode then. You know what I mean. I love you, and we miss the old you.”

  “So do I,” she said. “That’s why I’m here tonight.” Had she discovered BDSM before everything that had happened to her, she strongly suspected she would have been head-deep into the lifestyle already.

  Before.

  “Then let’s get moving,” Rusty said. “I don’t want to end up stuck in the back row.”

  They had to wait their turn to get to the counter. While they did, Eliza snagged a clipboard with a form on it from a stack of them on the desk a
nd handed it and a pen to Brooke. “Fill this out now,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “They’ll take your house, first-born, and ship you out on a four-year deployment to Guam,” a guy joked from ahead of them.

  She realized Eliza was about to say something to the guy, so Brooke reached out and grabbed her arm, shaking her head at her. He hadn’t meant anything by it except trying to be funny.

  She appreciated her friend’s protectiveness, but was now wondering if maybe she should have tried doing this on a different night, or without Eliza and Rusty. Maybe with Tilly and her what, yes, turned out to be men, plural, chaperoning her.

  “Well, I don’t have a first-born,” Brooke said to the guy while looking back down at the form, “and the Army’s done with me, so they’ll have to settle for my house.”

  “Heh!” But he didn’t continue the conversation since it was his turn next at the counter.

  She gently nudged Eliza as she filled out the required fields and left the others blank. When Eliza looked up, Brooke flashed her a smile.

  She loved her friends, more than they could ever know. They’d been one of her few secure tethers to a life outside of work and home, sanity savers on more than one occasion when Eliza did as she had Wednesday night and forcibly dragged Brooke out of the house.

  Twelve years older than Brooke, she was sometimes older sister, sometimes annoying best friend, and sometimes mom to Brooke. She and Rusty both had been Brooke’s emotional rocks during her dad’s recovery, helping her arrange her mom’s funeral, and putting her together with people who could…

  She had a revelation, frowning as it finally hit her. She dropped her voice as she turned to Eliza. “Mark Jarette. Our accountant.”

  Eliza looked understandably confused at first before she started snickering. She nodded. “Scrye. He and June will probably be here tonight, too. One of their daughters had a swim meet up in Tampa today or they would have been at dinner.”

  “Ed Payne?” Brooke whispered, trying not to let anyone else hear. “Our attorney?” Eliza had miraculously come up with the names and numbers of people to help Brooke out at the darkest emotional time of her life, professionals whose services she still used to this day.