Night Is Darkest Jayne Rylon (bookreader .TXT) 📖

All her life, she’d craved her older brother’s best friends. They’d indulged her girlish desire for adventure by helping her climb the tallest trees, smuggling her extra pieces of her favorite candy or racing her on their bikes while always keeping her safe. Then, their wicked good looks had inspired her first teenage crushes. Instead of fading from puppy love to deep-seated friendship, her longing for them grew year after year as she watched them mature into amazing men.

Smart, funny, aggravating and sexy. Together, they were everything she’d ever wanted.

The Midwestern city they lived in maintained small town sentiments, meaning gossip reigned as the leading pastime—especially within the community of police and hospital workers they associated with. The high-stress jobs relied on petty dirt to offset the danger and exhaustion of the demanding environments.

Therefore, it didn’t surprise her that more women than she could count had inquired about the validity of the rampant rumors surrounding the guys’ sexual exploits. They all wondered if Mason and Tyler together were the hottest fuck this side of the Rockies. No one believed she lacked firsthand knowledge of their carnal prowess considering how close they’d always been. So she’d heard all the wild tales.

From Mary Lou’s first account of their proclivity for ménage to Rachel’s recent description of the wicked bondage games they’d introduced her to, the vast creativity of the guys’ encounters had fascinated—and angered—her. Why did it seem like every other woman in the entire fucking city make the grade when she’d never passed muster?

Masochistic tendencies had lured her into scouting out information on the naughty yet alluring sexcapades of the men who were partners on the force, roommates in their personal lives and a fixture in her home.

Now she wouldn’t even have those companionable visits to look forward to. She would truly lead a solitary existence. Despair choked her. Her blurred vision dimmed as she struggled to draw enough breath to feed her sobs. Someone shook her, rolling her to her back. Then Tyler and Mason’s distant shouts penetrated her ruminations.

“Breathe, Lacey! You have to calm down and breathe.” She tried to obey Mason’s order but couldn’t.

“Mason, do something. She’s turning blue!” Tyler’s appeal resonated with a terror she’d never heard from him before. Yet, she couldn’t compel her lungs to respond.

The buttons on her blouse gave way beneath the force of Mason’s urgent hands. The constriction around her throat eased but not enough for her to draw ample oxygen. Before she realized what had happened, he sealed his mouth over hers. Air flowed into her lungs as he exhaled, creating a transfer. His wrists—braced on either side of her head—boxed her in until his stare claimed her entire focus, willing her to respond. He prevented her from expelling the breath by lingering against her now slack lips, stopping her cycle of hyperventilation, then lifted off to give her space to pull in more air.

Her breathing hitched and tears threatened to renew but he stemmed the tide by pressing his luscious mouth to hers once more. He passed the seconds by rubbing his nose against hers. The motion caused his lips to glide over her mouth the slightest bit. The gentle nuzzle lulled her.

Lacey’s nursing training goaded her to rationalize her instant euphoria as a side effect of near asphyxiation but her heart recognized the truth even as he repeated the motion. Mason Clark pinning her to the bed, caressing her in a very un-little-sister-of-my-best-friend way, inspired another bout of dizziness. When he separated them this time, she sucked in a lungful of oxygen to guarantee she wouldn’t pass out and miss the closest thing to a true kiss she’d ever had from him. Sure, he’d pecked her cheek a million times, but he’d only engaged in a full lip lock in her dreams.

“There you go, little one.” Ty relaxed, returning to lounge by her side. His long fingers entwined with hers while Mason performed a sensual equivalent of mouth to mouth. The delicious remedy restored her respiration and some of her strength but destroyed her common sense. “Synchronize your breathing with his. Inhale now and hold it.”

The rhythm mashed her satin-covered breasts against the solid plane of Mason’s chest before he descended once more. This time she stole the opportunity to indulge in forbidden pleasure. Lacey angled her mouth and kissed him with ten years of pent-up need. His low moan, which sounded suspiciously like a growl to her ears, accompanied her advance. She cupped the back of Mason’s head in her left hand, reveling in the way his short hair tickled her palm as she forced him into closer contact.

He paused until her lids fluttered open to absorb his questioning glance but she couldn’t turn back now. Hunger and desperation outstripped inhibition as she clutched the one thing with the power to temporarily erase her suffering. She nibbled on Mason’s lower lip, arching against him until he couldn’t deny every inch of her yearned for his touch.

She would beg if she had to.

Tyler’s grip tightened on her hand when he spoke for both men. “Do you know what you’re asking for, Lacey?”

In response, she squeezed Ty’s fingers then devoured Mason’s sultry mouth with long licks and flicks of her tongue. She had control of the situation for all of three seconds before his instincts kicked in. He wrested power from her with animal grace. Though Tyler stood several inches taller than Mason, and possessed features worthy of a cover model, Mason’s innate command had always attracted her like a moth to a flame.

Ice blue eyes pierced straight to her soul when he shifted on top of her, bunching her skirt around her hips as he settled into the cradle of her thighs. The smoky flavor of the whiskey he’d tossed back earlier mixed with his own unique essence to create a potent concoction she could easily get drunk on. With a primal groan, Mason surged against her as he continued his attack on her sanity. The trajectory of