Excerpt

Vanessa Morgan loved the inky darkness of midnight. She would have loved it more if she didn’t live in the city. Bright lights stole the brilliance of the stars. That didn’t stop her from looking, though, from imagining herself splayed on a blanket of soft green grass, warm summer night breeze caressing her skin, and laid out for the two delicious temptations in the apartment building across from hers.

She’d discovered Enrique Calderon and Luke Graham the previous month as she’d stood before her sliding glass door watching the night, dreaming of a man—any man at that point—to fuck the daylights out of her. One hand had rolled her nipple to a hard point, while the other plunged deep into her pussy. Then she’d glanced up and seen them watching from their apartments, nude, long fingers stroking their cocks as they stood before their own doors. She’d come seconds later, quivering as their jism splashed against the glass doors.

Enrique had rubbed his cock over the thick cream, and she’d imagined it smeared over her belly. Two windows over and one floor up, Luke had flicked his finger over the ejaculate, held it up for her to see, then looped his tongue around the digit. Another orgasm had shuddered through her.

For the last month it had become their nightly ritual. Tonight was no exception. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Juices trickled down her inner thighs. She knew their names, their professions…did they know hers? Did they know each other? It shouldn’t matter, but Vanessa knew that soon their midnight rendezvous wasn’t going to be enough. She craved the feel of their muscular bodies pressing her into the mattress, those heavy cocks pounding into her. Soon she’d have to make her move, choose one. It hardly seemed fair.

She placed a kitchen chair in front of the window and opened the drapes—the curtain to her stage. The sight of them waiting for her across the street hardened her nipples. Her arousal scented the air. Both men were gloriously naked, every muscle of their hard bodies defined by the lamplight around them. She’d used her resources at her law office to find out who they were.

Enrique worked construction with his father’s company, his Hispanic skin darkened all the more from days in the sun…from the waist up. A good ten inches of cock thrust up from a nest of dark curls.

Blond Luke was equally impressive. Being a stunt man kept him fit and agile. Nature hadn’t shorted him in the penis market either. In that respect, he and Enrique could have been twins. Luke was scuffing a towel over himself tonight. He must have had a late shoot and just showered.

Vanessa licked her lips, longing to suck the droplets from his skin. Was it so wrong to have them both?

Luke caught his erection in the sling of his towel and sawed back and forth. Vanessa palmed her breast and squeezed, then shifted her attention to Enrique. His dark-eyed gaze swept over her body. Her skin pebbled under the caress. When his gaze settled at the apex of her thighs, Vanessa sank into the chair and spread her legs wide. God, what she wouldn’t give to have one of their heads between them right now, hot tongues exploring her folds.

Groaning, she plucked at her nipple and traced her other hand around her clit. She imagined herself draped in Enrique’s arms, his callused fingers working her breasts until the sensation was too much to bear. Luke would wedge her thighs apart, mapping her pussy to one orgasm after the other. Weak and too spent to move, they’d carry her into her bedroom, drape her over her bed and spend hours fucking her. And when she thought she couldn’t come anymore, they’d show her that she could…and would.

Vanessa tossed her head back and twirled her fingers around her clit. She might offer a halfhearted protest to them. Neither would listen. These were men. Men who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to take it. Knew what she needed and weren’t afraid to give it to her.

She opened her eyes to them. Hands stroked thick erections now. Steely determination locked their sights on her. Those eyes would bore into her soul as they fucked her.

Why hadn’t they made a move? Why hadn’t they already come to claim her? She had their phone numbers. Why the hell didn’t she call them? If they burst into her apartment right now…

Vanessa arched into a groan. Could they see her pussy juices clinging to her bare labia and want a taste?

She fumbled for the dildo on the floor beside her. A flick of her thumb turned it on. Her gaze shifted between the two men. She could almost hear their moans as she plunged it deep inside. It could never match the feel of one of them pounding away.

Their fists moved faster. Luke reached between his thighs and fondled his balls. Vanessa knew from early on he liked that. Enrique stood, legs astride, hand clutching his dick. Once he caught her gaze, he glanced down at his cock, as if silently ordering her to come suck it. He’d be the type to force her to her knees and hold her head in place while her lips worked his erection…and Luke worked her from behind.

Her pussy clutched at the dildo. She was too close to coming. Once she did, they would, too. Generally, that meant the end of the show for the night. She wasn’t ready for that, not that she ever was.

What must they think of her, playing exhibitionist each night to their voyeurism? And yet they still showed up. Well…they were men after all. Hot-blooded, hard-bodied, big-dicked men!

Orgasm rolled over Vanessa in sweet waves of release. She forced her eyes open and saw Luke catch his orgasm in the towel. Enrique… She snapped upright. One hand braced on the glass door, while the other gripped the base of his cock. He’d choked off his release!

Did that mean he was going to stay longer? She should call him. Right now! Invite him over, beg him to…

A knock at her door jerked her around. She clutched for something to cover her nudity, as if she expected someone to burst in and witness her wanton act. That’s when she realized…

Who could be at my door at midnight?

She glanced over her shoulder to the apartment complex across the way. Both men were still at their windows and were frowning, most probably because she’d jumped up abruptly. Crazy as it sounded, it made her feel protected. Not that either of them could do anything from way over there, but still…

Vanessa snagged her robe from where she’d tossed it on back of the couch and rushed to the door for a look out the peep hole. A man stood in the hallway with a large, flat, white box tied with black satin ribbon. Judging from the navy slacks and white shirt with a delivery logo over the pocket, she presumed his purpose was to leave the box. Memories of bachelorette parties she’d attended filtered through her head—strippers disguised as cops, fireman, and UPS men. Maybe he’d gotten the wrong address.

“Could I help you?” she said through the door.

“I have a delivery for Vanessa Morgan,” he replied.

In the middle of the night? It’d better be a damn fine gift. I swear if one of my friends sent me a stripper… “From whom?”

“The card just says it’s from your midnight rendezvous.”

Vanessa’s knees buckled. Which one? Her hand shook as she unlocked the deadbolt and slid the security chain free. She could barely hear the man’s instructions to “Sign here” and couldn’t have described him after the fact if her life had depended on it.

She leaned against the door once she’d re-locked it, mesmerized by the heavy box. One tug and the ribbon would slide free. Were they watching her? Maybe just the one who’d sent the package. Did she dare look? A sudden bout of shyness made that impossible.

Placing it on the apothecary table—the center point in her small, bright living room—Vanessa sank into the armchair before it. If Enrique and Luke were watching, they could see her. She rubbed her fingers together as she pondered whether to yank the ribbon or slip it free with leisure. Her nipples rasped against her terrycloth robe.

Plucking the black satin between thumb and forefinger, she pulled and it slithered into shimmering pools at the sides of the white box. Hard breaths heaved her chest in anticipation of what was inside. She grabbed the sides and lifted the lid. A costume nestled in white tissue paper. Two cream vellum cards were on top of that.

Hands shaking, Vanessa opened the first card. Feathery script stared up at her. She couldn’t tell if it had been done by hand or on computer, but each letter was precisely aligned and each commanding word heated her blood a little more.

——

Your presence is required. A car will pick you up tomorrow night at seven. Be ready. Wear your long hair down and nothing but you beneath these clothes. It’s time we meet. You’ll be attending the annual celebration in honor of the Ladies’ League of Benevolence, held at the Historic Duran-Ortega Rancho. All you need do is wear this and be there.

——

“Oh…my…” She could scarcely breathe.

The league had been formed over one hundred-fifty years ago by the Duran and Ortega families. Their adjoining ranchos had been further linked when the Duran sisters married the Ortega brothers in 1849. History eventually revealed the men in the families had a little Zorro thing going on. Their efforts helped thousands of the poor. The charity celebration commemorated their efforts. Traditionally, attendees dressed in honor of them—the men as those infamous masked heroes and the women as their beautiful wives. Obviously, historical accuracy in period attire wasn’t a prerequisite. Romance and love were the order of the evening since those were what had built the foundation. Vanessa had always longed to go, and now…

Her fingers shook as she spread the tissue paper away. White smocked blouse, off-the-shoulder, and low-cut—elastic around the neckline would make it easy to pull down and expose her breasts. A red satin corset, chamois soft, not stiff. A flowing black skirt. And beneath it all…black slippers.

And nothing beneath. One of the men was claiming her. Which one?

She opened the second card. Need shot electric shocks down to her pussy with the first words.

——

Take the black ribbon and tie it into knots close together.

Lay naked on your table, pussy pointed toward the window for the world to see.

Wrap the ends of the ribbon around your hands and rake it over your clit.

Imagine yourself being filled completely.

Come. Come hard.

Tuck the ribbon, scented with your juices, in your blouse for the party.

No other perfume should mar your perfection.

And tomorrow night, other hands will hold the ribbon.

And you will come again…and again.

——

Vanessa’s clit throbbed in response. She pulled her head up for a look across the street. Both men had their drapes closed. She still had no idea who’d sent the costume. But she was sure of one thing—she was going to do exactly as the notes demanded.