“Again,” I pleaded. I let go of Santiago. My hands reached out so I could brace myself against the shower wall.
Santiago spread my ass cheeks. His cock entered me, just the tip, but it was enough to have me cry out.
Taylor pulled out.
“No,” I said. I grabbed him by the hip and guided him into me again.
Just as he pulled out, Santiago’s tip penetrated my ass, again, slightly deeper still.
He pulled out, and I grabbed Taylor’s ass and pushed him into me again.
They really were a close unit. They entered me and pulled out in perfectly synchronized movements, imitating and playing off the depths, the angles and the speed.
I put my mouth against Taylor’s chiseled jaw. I wrapped my arms around him. “Come with me,” I said.
I gushed out, while he gushed in, and Santiago’s warm cum hit the small of my back.
I would have collapsed again, but they held me.
Taylor took the showerhead from the hook and he washed down my body.
I didn’t trust my weak knees, so I held on to Taylor while Santiago led me out of the shower. He wrapped me in a towel. I leaned back and closed my eyes while my men dried me off and led me back to bed.
17
Axel
I had to sit through a three-hour lecture, during which Elijah and J.P. were at the Marina Hotel with Gwen. I surprised myself with the realization that I felt no jealousy—even though I thought, given the circumstances, that the jealousy would have been justified. Instead, I bid my time, knowing that soon the long day would come to an end and I would be with Gwen.
Usually, there was at least one member of the squad available to have dinner with, but between work, increased training and Gwen nearby at the Marina Hotel, I was having a rare meal alone. I’d agreed to go to the hotel later with Travis, but he wouldn’t be free until midnight. If ever there was a time to make an exception to our ground rules, no one can see her outside of the cafe alone, it was now. But I knew the ground rules had been set for good reason; no exceptions. So, I finished dinner, had a glass of wine and lay down for a nap.
Shortly past midnight, Travis woke me up. “What are you doing sleeping?” he said as he shook me.
I slapped his hands off of me. “Stop that.”
“Are you tired?” he said.
I pulled myself out of bed. “No. I was waiting for you.” I could tell he was anxious and ready to go. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Let me jump in the shower and get changed.”
“I’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes,” he said.
“Make it ten.”
We walked quickly to the hotel, not only because we were both in a hurry to see Gwen, but also because on that early November night, it was rather cold.
“Did you text her?” I asked.
“Yeah, an hour ago and also ten minutes ago.”
“And?”
“No reply.”
I slowed my pace. “You don’t think Elijah and J.P. could still be there?”
Travis shook his head. “No. I talked to Elijah. They left at around nine thirty.”
“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin.
“She’s probably asleep,” said Travis.
I blew on my hands. “And we’re just going to go there and wake her up?”
“Yep.” Travis seemed unphased. Then again, he had no problem waking me up.
“Poor girl,” I said. “She’s going to be a wreck tomorrow.”
The hotel came into view, and I stopped. “Maybe we shouldn’t go. Maybe we should let her sleep.”
“Are you crazy?” said Travis.
“I’m just trying to think about what she’d want.”
“So am I,” said Travis. “And I don’t think she’d appreciate being stood up.”
I wasn’t so sure. “You’re probably right.”
“Probably?”
I wished I’d had Travis’s confidence. I wished I knew exactly what Gwen wanted. He was right, though, standing her up would have been bad. But wearing her out couldn’t be good either. I put that concern on my growing list of things to talk about with Gwen.
“Come on,” said Travis, and he picked up his pace to a near jog. I followed suit.
We arrived at the hotel and took a moment to compose ourselves. “How do I look?” asked Travis.
“Like a man on a mission,” I said.
“Like a good-looking man on a mission?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. You look fine, I guess.”
Travis frowned. He reached for the door then turned to me and said, “You know, this is probably the last time we’ll see her.”
“The last time we see her, until we get back from deployment,” I corrected, but it came out as more of a question than a statement of fact.
The receptionist greeted us with a nod of the head. I gave him a salute, and we headed for the stairs. The hotel was so silent and still—which wasn’t surprising; it was past one o’clock in the morning. We reached her door and stood there a moment. I waited for Travis to knock, and he presumably waited for me to do the same. I whispered to him, “Maybe we should call her.”