Free Inked (Tattoos and Leather) by Jaymie Holland Page A

burst into flame. She had gone down on two men the same night. Twins no less.
    What would Grandmother think if she was still alive? She’d be horrified. She’d think that I’m a slut.
    Even as embarrassment pelted at her, her belly did flip-flops as she remembered them bringing her to orgasm. She had come so hard that she had blacked out.
    Then what?
    How did she end up in bed with them?
    More memories assaulted her. She’d been dizzy when she’d come back around, and Nick had bundled her in her coat. Sean had tossed the sex toys back into the carrying case. Sean had made a call and the next thing she knew, cold air was prickling her skin and then she was whisked away in a car with Nick and Sean.
    Megan had been so sated, so worn out, that she’d fallen asleep on Nick’s shoulder. They’d been tender with her, as if she was a gift they treasured. It had made her feel like she was coming home.
    She’d been vaguely aware of them tucking her into bed and then she’d fallen into a deep sleep and hadn’t woken until now.
    More heat rushed through her from her scalp to her toes as it hit her. She’d been with two men at once. Two virtual strangers. She’d let them dominate her and they’d played with her body.
    What have I done?
    Memories of the men offering to pay her rent, give her cash, and job placement made her belly sink. She’d be a whore, working for wages in the form of gifts and cash and whatever else they offered her.
    Feelings of humiliation mounted.
    For a long moment she lay still, unable to move. She had to get out of there and she had to leave now.
    Carefully, trying to keep from waking up the men, she scooted up just enough to push the satin sheets and comforter down to her waist. She felt like she was going to burn up even though they’d stripped off the body stocking. If they were awake to see her now, they’d probably see her naked body as bright red as a beet.
    She wondered if she could possibly feel any more embarrassed, then decided not to tempt fate by that line of thinking.
    As quietly and with as little movement as possible, she eased down toward the foot of the bed. She was grateful it wasn’t quite morning yet and the men were still sleeping. Maybe she’d get out of there without waking either one of them.
    The mattress creaked a little as she slipped off of it. Her feet met plush white carpeting and she paused, not daring to breathe.
    When she saw that both men were still sound asleep in the huge four-poster bed, she looked around the room.
    She didn’t think it was a bedroom. It appeared to be more like a playroom with BDSM contraptions. The bed looked perfect for chaining a woman to it or tying her down. Megan swallowed.
    Where the hell was she?
    Pushing all thoughts about BDSM and sex aside, she found her coat, shoes, and purse. When she searched for the body stocking, she couldn’t find it anywhere. Desperate, she grabbed one of the men’s tux shirts that was draped over a chair and slipped it on. It smelled of cedar and leather—Nick. She tried to ignore the scent that wrapped around her like a lover.
    She took one of the men’s belts and wrapped it around her waist, cinching the shirt. She had to put the belt on the smallest notch and it was still a little loose, and the shirt hung like a mini dress on her, barely reaching her upper thigh. But hell, it covered her better than the body stocking had.
    It took her all of five minutes to get dressed. She picked up her ankle boots, coat, and purse before slipping out of the room and closing the door silently behind her.
    She padded quietly on white carpet in her bare feet as she made her way down a short hallway and wondered again where she was. Two closed doors were on either side of her and then she walked out of the hallway. She came to a full stop.
    The hall opened up into a room of more white carpeting that stretched from wall to wall. Another hallway was directly opposite of where she now stood. Floor-to-ceiling windows