Congrats & Happy Release to Grey Cole!
Any Way We Want is LIVE!
Meet Royce & Shea in this new erotic serial romance!
I couldn’t have picked two men more opposing than they. One dark-headed, slightly controlling, but intuitive. The other all unruly copper curls, somewhat bashful, but sensual. Yet, my fall for them felt the same—hard and fast.
I never slept around or cheated, but when you're the girl who got dumped for being too kinky--you realize and accept you are different. Somehow, some way, they had to be mine. My mind spun with what could be, and I set out to entice them with my fantasy.
Only, my plot had a twist…Royce and Shea were already lovers. Luckily for me, they liked to share.
Warning: Contains a headstrong daughter of nudist, hippy parents, an Alpha with seriously protective instincts, positive representations of Asperger's Syndrome and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and oh yeah, M/M, M/M/M, M/M/F, and M/F/M.
Champagne always made her giggly and warm and tingly. Especially tingly. If she’d had a man, you better believe she would be fucked six ways from Sunday right about now. Instead, Luna found herself finishing off a few reports after saying goodnight to the guys. It had been a stellar day. Phase Two—by far the largest coup in their plan—had been firmly achieved. Royce had broken out the champagne, and Luna managed to consume copious amounts before promising the men she would call a cab when she was ready to head out for the night. They were reluctant to leave her behind, but their desire to do a little personal celebrating of their own was palpable. Far be it for her to stand in the way of the double dose of the pure male need and testosterone that engulfed the room.
Since she and Shea had become fast friends, he had divulged more than his share of their passionate tale to her over the last six months, even though she felt sure that he’d kept it toned down for her benefit. Still, she felt like she could read them. When she noticed little things, like the way Royce’s fingertips would curl possessively around Shea’s bicep at the end of even the briefest touch or when Shea’s eyes would suddenly shine brighter while Royce presented the most boring of facts and figures, Luna would glance to the others present in the room to see if they, too, were aware of exactly how sexual … how sensual … their bosses were. But, it seemed she alone picked up on these things. No raised eyebrows. No gossip around the water cooler.
That made her wonder if she was actually picking up on things, or if she was just perving on the gorgeous duo. Her subconscious picked that moment to send X-rated images flitting across her brain, involuntarily making her squeeze her crossed legs tighter. In an effort to halt her mind’s deviant trajectory, she grasped at the water bottle to her right, only to send it spinning across the desk until it toppled over the edge and skittered across the floor to come to a halt by the door.
Deciding she had probably done enough damage for the night, she saved all her documents and logged out of the computer before jotting herself a note. Sticking it to the computer, she laughed out loud at the message. You were drunk and horny last night, double check your files before sending. A little unsteady, she made her way to the abused water bottle, figuring she should refill it to stay hydrated. She’d call for a cab and head home to finish off the night with some Pinot and some porn. This time she actually giggled out loud. Pinot and porn. God, if only to have the third P present. Oh well, she thought, wiggling her fingers in front of her face, you’ll have to do.
She ended up tiptoeing down the hall, cringing at how dark and still it was when no one was around. Just when she seemed to become accustomed to the difference, she heard them. Moans and groans and curses and near shouts. Luna froze for a moment before understanding hit her with her blunt force. Where her body tingled before—now it sang. Where she’d been warm—she blazed. Her eyes flew to the partially closed door of Royce and Shea’s office, only daring to listen for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and darted back to her own office.
Her water bottle hit the floor with a clang as she slammed the door behind her. Wincing at the loud noise, she waited a moment to see if she would be discovered before rushing over to her desk. Only a security light from the hall cast a dull ray of light into her office. She eased herself into her chair and spun it so that she faced the windows. Luna’s face burned anew as she recalled the frantic words exchanged between Royce and Shea. Even her wicked imagination had not done them justice.
She could make out her own expression in the glass—pupils blown, hair disheveled, clothes askew. Taking a few calming breaths, Luna closed her eyes tightly, but as soon as she did, images of the two men locked in a passionate embrace flooded her brain.
Fuck me, Royce.
Take every inch of me. You like that don’t you? When I pull your hair, you nearly come undone.
Fuck yeah. Please, Royce.
Luna would do anything to have those words lavished upon her, to be able to say those very things to them. So, she pretended they included her. That she was the object of their desire and they were hers. The little app on her iPad filled with the gay porn blogs she’d become addicted to after meeting the men had nothing on the heat those two created within her. She couldn’t have stopped her hands if she’d tried. The things had a mind of their own when they bunched her loosely flowing skirt around her waist and dove into her panties. Her fingers circled her clit for a moment before dipping into the searing wetness. She fingered herself hard for a moment, even throwing her own hand over her mouth to muffle the obscene noises threatening to bubble from her throat.
When her clit throbbed with need, she pushed her thumb to it.
Repeated the pattern again and again.
When she felt herself on the verge of coming, Luna shoved both fingers in her vagina again.
She liked it rough. Fuck, did she like it rough. She held her breath, knowing that would make her orgasm all the more intense. Her head slammed back against the chair. Her hips circled to ride her fingers to the finish.
Then her fingers were replaced by Royce’s. Fuck, but they were thick and demanding.
She needed Shea too. She pinched her lips together so that she could remove her hand. That hand flew down to squeeze one nipple. Hard. It was Shea thumbing the bud and then twisting so hard, asking if she liked that. Yes, Shea. Just like that, Luna moaned.
Royce told her to fuck his hand like she meant it, so she did. He needed to know she meant it. She cried out his name.
She bent and bucked and writhed. Then she came.
Harder than she’d ever come before.
Her men smiled at each other. Then at her. Then they kissed, almost chastely, counteracting the wild moment. They kissed her. She tasted them on each other. Royce pressed his fingers into her mouth, and Luna licked them clean before he removed them and sucked her tongue into his mouth.
Luna’s body seemed to melt into the chair. Time was suspended. Her breaths were shallow and hot. Once she opened her eyes, she knew they would disappear, taking their sweet kisses and their panty-combusting commands with them. She almost couldn’t bear it. Right now, their presence was so strong she could almost feel it.
With a deep sigh, she let her fingers fall from her mouth and her breast. Both hands dropped to the chair with a thud. She giggled again at how deeply sated she was.
Only, her giggle seemed to echo. But it was deeper. Richer. More masculine.
She was drunker than she thought.
Luna’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Open and closed. She finally fixed her stare on the glass where twin gazes of amusement shone back at her. One an intense blue. The other a mesmerizing hazel.
Too late to pretend embarrassment, Luna swallowed her nerves and met their eyes with her own.
“Luna, dear girl,” Royce tsked, “if only we’d known.”
Shea dipped his head and bit Royce’s shoulder. “God, if we’d known,” he groaned.
Luna chose to believe that the champagne made her bold when she brazened, “And if you’d known?”
“That’s simple, darling. We could have celebrated. The three of us. Together,” Royce declared.
Inside, she gasped, even though she hoped she remained steadfast in appearance. But you’re both gay. Why would you want me? Her naïveté won in the end when she whispered, “But how would that even work?”
Royce spun her chair around to face them as they sat perched on her desk. “Any way we want.”
About the Author
Grey Cole always dreamt of a book that featured hot male-on-male action that grew to encompass one lucky woman. Okay … maybe Grey really dreamt of this scenario playing out in real life and then decided to purge all those dirty thoughts onto the page.