Desiree Holt - Caught in the Middle

“She’s not afraid,” Hayden announced.

“And what do you know about humans?” Stafford demanded.

Hayden shrugged. “If she was afraid, she would smell afraid. She doesn’t smell afraid, so she’s not.”

He ducked his head, looking up at her, making an obvious effort to catch her eye. He was right about one thing at least. She saw no reason to be afraid of them. She’d submitted to enough men during her search for a master to be able to read the signs of cruelty or sadism in her prospective partners. These two young men, for all the stories she’d read about their respective species, were neither.

They were simply dominants-inexperienced, as was to be expected when neither of them was far past their teens, but with the potential to become great dominants, great leaders of their respective species in the years to come.

Jasmine took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as they blossomed once more. They were just the type of men she’d had in her mind when she started down the road to find a master.

One more deep breath. Jasmine hoped like hell Hayden couldn’t scent arousal as easily as he would have smelt her fear.

“I won’t hurt you,” Stafford said again.

Hayden looked up to Stafford. “And you think I would,” he growled.

“Werewolves are still wolves, they are not a species known for their gentleness.”

“And vampires are? At least we have learnt not to bite our lovers,” Hayden snapped, jerking back to his feet and making the extended chain between their handcuffs rattle.

“Lovers? A pretty word for a species capable of nothing more than rutting like animals,” Stafford taunted. “Vampires are known for skill, subtlety, seduction when they take a lover to their beds. Werewolves are merely known for an inclination to do it doggie style.”

They were so focused on each other, Jasmine felt it was safe to look up at them. Squaring off against each other, they were glorious. Two dominant men, as different as could be, fighting over her. If she hadn’t been well aware neither of them gave a damn about her, she might have been stupid enough to feel flattered by the idea.

Hayden’s expression slowly morphed into a smile. “A man with a small cock can become a fantastic lover if he puts a lot of time and effort into acquiring a great technique, a guy with a big cock doesn’t need to know a damn thing to be bloody marvellous.”

His gaze dropped to Stafford ’s trousers. He looked particularly unimpressed.

The vampire’s eyes narrowed. They appeared to be two seconds from launching themselves at each other when Jasmine slid to her knees between them.

That at least made them pause for a few seconds. She felt their attention turn towards her.

Hayden crouched down. He stroked her hair back from her face. “Hey, it’s okay…” he stumbled for a moment when he obviously realised he didn’t know her name. “No one is mad at you . What’s your name?”

“I’ll answer to whatever name you choose to give me, sir,” she said softly. “I belong to both of you and I will do whatever you want me to do. My name is your choice.”

“I meant what I said,” Stafford said. “I’ll see no one takes advantage of your position in this arrangement.”

Hayden spared one, annoyed glance at the other man. “She doesn’t just belong to you. And I know well enough how to be careful with those weaker than me.” He reached out to touch her cheek. His palm was rough and had obviously seen a lot of use as the surface of a paw, but in spite of Stafford ’s predictions, his touch was the most gentle she remembered feeling.

Leaning in close, he nuzzled her neck. “You’re safe,” he whispered, softly in her ear.

“What name is written on your birth certificate?” Stafford asked.

Jasmine looked up at him. The vampire glowered at Hayden’s closeness to her. He obviously wasn’t in the mood for games or for naming anyone.

“Jasmine Neal, sir,” she said.

He nodded. “Jasmine, very well. In case you missed the rather inadequate introductions earlier, I’m Stafford Ingram. The pup is Hayden Griffith.”

Hayden smiled against her neck and pressed a kiss to the sensitive bit of skin behind her ear.

“For heaven’s sake, stop slobbering all over the poor woman.”

He pressed another gentle kiss to her neck. “She likes it.”

“Not believing she has permission to push you away is not the same as welcoming you,” Stafford snapped.

She felt Hayden sway as Stafford tugged on the cuffs, but he didn’t move away from her.

“You do like it, don’t you, Jas?” he asked her, softly, whispering the words against her skin. “I can tell by your scent.”

Jasmine swallowed. The gentle kisses were getting to her, calling to something inside her that had slept through a great many of the scenes she had completed over the last few years.

Such soft touches from a strong master always made her ridiculously eager to please and gain more of the same. She looked up at Stafford and saw his expression change as he saw the truth in her eyes.

“You are here of your own free will?” he asked.

Jasmine swallowed down her nerves. “Yes, sir.”

Stafford studied her very carefully. Seeing no other way to communicate the truth, she forced herself to hold his gaze and let him read the truth there.

“You want this, with both of us?” Stafford asked, almost daring her to lie to him.

Jasmine took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected it to be the entire truth, she hadn’t expected the misgivings she’d felt when she agreed to take part in the scene to fade away so quickly, but somehow when she nodded it was the entire truth.

Yes, something inside her said. She wanted this. She wanted both of them.

“Excuse us for a moment.” Stafford sharply tugged on the cuff around Hayden’s wrist. “We need to talk.”

Hayden shrugged. He rubbed his cheek against hers. He was clean shaven without a touch of stubble to roughen the gesture. His fingers stroked the other side of her face, trailing down her neck. “So, talk,” he told the other man. “I’m not stopping you.”

“In private,” Stafford clarified with obviously forced calm.

Hayden pulled back a fraction. He looked from Jasmine to Stafford and back again. He gave another shrug and a soft sigh.

Getting up from his crouching position, he turned back to her before he followed Stafford to the other side of the room. “Stay there.”

“She is not a bloody puppy,” Stafford snapped.

“I didn’t say she was.”

“Then stop ordering her around as if she’s the mongrel in the room.”

“I want her to stay where she is. If I don’t tell her, she won’t know,” the werewolf replied calmly.

Stafford gave a long suffering sigh. He walked away, tugging on the cuff. Jasmine heard him mutter the words, “heel boy,” under his breath.

Hayden growled in response, but he followed Stafford across the room and out of her earshot.

Stafford Ingram looked across the room. The woman, Jasmine, sat on the edge of the bed, eyes lowered and patiently waiting. Her hair flowed across her shoulders, down her back. It was practically impossible to catch sight of her throat, unless you were willing to burrow and nuzzle past the blonde locks the way the damn wolf had. Stafford took a deep breath and tried to turn his thoughts away from the girl’s jugular.

The thought of sharing a woman with the wolf was… he mentally shook his head at himself. This is what he got for going too long between feedings. If blood lust hadn’t been pounding through his veins, begging him to feed from her it would never have even occurred to him to lower his standards far enough to include a damn werewolf in his sex life-even if the man was very firmly on the other side of a woman.