Free Two if by Sea by Marie Carnay Page A

testosterone. Men . Solid, unbelievable, overpowering men.
    An orgasm hit her out of nowhere. Her muscles tightened and both men groaned in sync. They held her there—Tony’s thighs tight against her ass and Damon’s cock stuffed in her mouth—as all three of them came.
    Damon’s release shot down her throat, Tony emptied into the condom, and Daphne burst apart inside. Could you die from too much pleasure? Could you overdose on orgasmic bliss?
    One after the other, both men slipped out of her and somehow—magic, strong arms, sheer exhaustion—she landed on a pile of pillows on the bed.

Chapter 8
    DAPHNE
    S un hit Daphne’s face and she blinked herself awake. Cool, crisp sheets. Giant bed. Warm bodies.
    She whipped her head to the side and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from squealing. Man. Giant slabs of the sexiest male specimens she’d ever hooked up with. Two of them.
    Visions of the night before swam through her mind. Tony and Damon. Naked and all over her. She swallowed down a rising panic attack.
    Tony’s hands on her hips. Damon’s hands in her hair. The control. The freedom.
    She’d never been so lost in sex before. So in the moment. Now? In the light of a clear sunny day?
    Holy shit. The words ran on repeat in her brain as images of her real life paraded past like a tabloid montage building up to career suicide. Tony shifted on the bed and mumbled something from beneath the pillow.
    Oh, no . They couldn’t wake up and see her like this. Her hair had to be sex goddess tangled, her makeup probably made a telenovela breakup seem tame, and the look of shame on her face… no way. She couldn’t let them know.
    As slowly as possible, Daphne crawled over the bed, knees denting the mattress and shifting the still-sleeping men around. Damon snorted and she froze. Please don’t wake up. Please.
    She held her breath until he settled down. Thank God. A few more careful moves and she’d made it to the floor. With quick glances at the bed every few steps, Daphne collected her things. Discarded underwear and her bra. Slinky dress that screamed I spent the night with someone. She paused at the door to the suite.
    Leaving without a word seemed so…mean. But what could she say? I had a great time, thanks for the orgasms, don’t ever talk to me again? Not hardly. She eased the front door open with a frown and slipped into the hallway.
    She hadn’t done a walk of shame since junior year of college. Mortifying didn’t begin to describe it.
    How had she let herself get so carried away? Sleep with two men she just met that day? Cruise ship fever sounded more believable all the time. Sane Daphne didn’t do things like this.
    She hustled down the hall, holding her clutch tight to her chest and her heels in her other hand. Find her room, take a shower, get the hell off the boat—that’s what she needed to do. She rubbed the side of her hip and winced. Tony’s fingers had left a mark.
    His hands holding her tight, his body slamming into her from behind…The vision sent a bolt of heat between her legs and a blush up her cheeks. Damn it. It didn’t matter how good it was, she couldn’t ever do it again.
    What if someone on the dance floor recognized her? What if Mr. Hopkins found out?
    If he knew that she’d gone on a singles cruise and ended up in bed with two men, all he’d ever see was a body he could use for the right photo opportunity. He’d never see a partner.
    All she’d worked for and sacrificed the last five years. It was worth more than a fling on a cruise liner.
    He might be an asshole, but she could change his impression of her. A few more clients and good outcomes and he’d see she was more than a skirt and heels. He’d see her worth. It had to work. It was her only way to make partner. Starting over at a new firm meant years of delay. Waste.
    Daphne swallowed down her panic and turned the corner. Elevators. Thank God. She pushed the button and waited. It couldn’t come fast enough. As