I walk toward the diner with my hands full and my legs moving double time.

I’m late.

Russell owes me big time for this. He’s my boss and the owner of Baker’s Buns, a dessert and coffee shop in Reno. I usually only work there on Tuesday nights and Saturday mornings, but Russell was short-staffed today. He phoned me in a panic, telling me that I was the only one of his employees who could help him with this favor. According to him, I’d save his skin if I helped him out by quickly picking up his delivery van on my lunch hour to drop off this order all the way out in Lockwood.

I’m not even sure why I agreed to help him out. Oh yes, I remember why. It was the promise of sixty dollars to cover gas and my time. But that won’t save me from the lecture I’ll get from my other boss, where I work as a full-time general administrator.

Chief Denton Robertson.

Fire Chief of Reno Fire Department, Station Eleven.

I’m sure to hear it from him. He doesn’t let anything slide with me, especially because he’s my father.

I wasn’t supposed to work for him. It’s against the fire department’s rules. I hadn’t even planned to work for the fire department at all. But after spending three years at college majoring in humanities, I took the first job I could get upon graduation and worked as an administrator at another fire station. Then an unlikely chain of events led to me reporting directly to my father. The retirement of the fire chief at Station Fourteen where I worked—and possibly government budget cuts as well—led senior management to the absurd decision to merge both stations, which are a mile apart. A few administrative staff took the opportunity to tap into early retirement offers, and others were approved for various transfers around the city. My request for a transfer is still in limbo, so although a familial reporting relationship isn’t allowed, the human resources people at the head office have let it slide pending their processing of my transfer request.

That was two years ago. I’m still waiting for my goddamned transfer. While I hang on, my father doesn’t want anyone to think he’s showing me preferential treatment. But the truth is, he holds me to a higher standard than most of his firefighters.

One day he’ll find out that his actions and the lengths he went to keep me under his control, created that ‘bad girl’ side of me.

Still, there’s late, and then there’s going overboard.

Picking up the pace, I step up on the sidewalk, and give a distracted nod to the two men at the front entrance of the diner. Except something in my mind takes the time to look at them. Fuck, they’re hot. Tall and well-built too. I’ve never seen either of them before, so they can’t be locals. By the way they’re dressed at this time of day, they can’t be tourists either. My guess is they’re both truckers on their way through town.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” the taller, strapping one with light brown hair says, and pulls the door open for me.

I’m about to open my mouth to thank him when I notice his eyes aren’t on my face. They’re honed in on my wrist. The pendant hanging down from my bracelet, to be exact. Which can only mean one thing.

He knows.

“Hi,” I manage to say, and wish I had more time to stop and talk. “Thanks for your help,” I add as I squeeze by him.

Crap. Of all the times for me to finally bump into some decent-looking men who know what the pendant means. I’ve been wearing it for a long time, since my trip to Las Vegas for a taste of everything taboo. Not a soul has noticed it here in my part of the world. Although, even if they did spot it and had a clue what it meant, they’d probably steer clear of me anyway, because of who my father is.

I vaguely notice that the diner’s quiet today as I pass the mostly empty tables on my way to the main counter. Giving the boxes an extra lift, I place them on the counter beside the cash register. A brief glance back through the glass entrance door and I’m certain they know. It’s as though their eyes haven’t left me since they caught sight of the pendant.

Maybe I can find a little time for some alternative socializing.

Convenient for me.

And possibly, lucky for them.

“Hi Josephine,” I say to the middle-aged waitress returning to the kitchen from the other end of the restaurant with a tray of empty dishes.

“Hi, Ember,” she smiles. “You working today?”

“No. Well, yes, at my day job. I skipped off lunch to get this order over here. Russell’s short-handed today.”

“Oh, we know what that’s like,” she says. “How’s your dad?”

“Great,” I answer, and leave it at that. Pretty much all the staff from every business establishment on the I-80 between Fernley and Truckee know my father. He keeps reminding me about that as a way to keep me under his thumb like I’m still a child.

What you do reflects on me, Ember.

His voice is stuck in my head. He was always so quick to add that statement to each and every talk we used to have. The mere thought causes me to reach my hand over to my bracelet. It’s no wonder I’ve gone so far off the reservation in my sex life.

“It’s no problem if you’re in a rush—” she starts to explain, but stops. Her eyebrows raise, and a smile lifts the sides of her lips. “Though you might want to hang around a little while longer. Those two hot guys at the door are checking you out. You’re lucky, girl. You can take your pick!”

Or have them both, I think.

Suddenly, getting back to the office a little late isn’t as big a deal anymore. I’m already late. I’ll get a talking to no matter what. It may as well be for something memorable.

“I don’t think so,” I answer, but it’s a flat-out lie. This reply is a distraction for Josephine. I’m well acquainted with how rumors start in small towns like these. My father will probably hear about me running off to play hooky with some badass truckers during my lunch break long before I get back to work. “Have a good week!”

A few new patrons are entering as I get to the front door. I use the small bustle to ask the guy with lighter hair, “Did you notice my bracelet?”

“We both did,” he says with a nod, a half-smile lifting on one side of his face as his eyes blaze a slow, searing trail down my body, and back up again. His right arm goes up, then his friend with the darker hair, and they both pull back a sleeve of their winter jacket to reveal that they each have one too.

“I don’t have much time, but we’re standing in a public place. Too public. Meet me around back.”

They head off in the opposite direction, and already, I appreciate their good instincts by not following me. It’s only then that I remember. It’s Russell’s bakery delivery van that I drove to get here. Heading over to it, I open the rear double doors. The back is split off into two sections. Close to the double doors, the space has three custom installed shelves at intervals of about eighteen inches, to fit bake trays or boxes. The area near the sliding side door on the passenger side is for larger orders, so it allows a person to stand at full height. And it’s empty right now. It just may work.

I’m nervous but excited when I get into the van, start the engine and drive around to the back of the diner where it’s quieter. These guys are smart. They’re waiting beside a black, late-model Ford Expedition with dark tinted windows. It occurs to me that I should ask them how it is that truckers are traveling with an SUV, but don’t bother questioning it. Five or six of the eighteen-wheelers I just drove past have a pickup truck or some other vehicle being towed behind it.

The one with lighter hair opens the rear passenger door as I walk up to them, his arm extended for a handshake.

“I’m Hammer, and this is my buddy, Deuce,” he says.

“Interesting names…nice to meet you,” I reply, shaking his hand, then Deuce’s. “I’m Ember.”

“Good to meet you too, Ember,” Deuce answers with a smile that shows off a sexy deep dimple on the left side of his face.

If I don’t take action right away, I’ll end up chickening out. With a breath of air sucked into my lungs for extra courage, I step up into the vehicle and sit behind the driver seat.

“Have you done this before?” Deuce with the dimple asks, scooting past me to sit in the back row.

“Surprisingly, I haven’t,” I confess. “Not many Club M members make a stop all the way out here. On the ski slopes, or at the casinos in Reno, maybe, but I haven’t met anyone since I joined in Vegas a while back.”

“Lucky break for us, then,” Hammer says in a deep baritone voice that seems to resonate and travel straight to my core. He jumps into the seat beside me and pulls the passenger door closed.

I’m alone with these two strangers, going on faith that they’re Club M members in good standing who adhere to the five-part code of membership.

Consent.

Respect.

Pleasure.

Discretion.

Safety.

So far so good, but I’m nervous. I wonder who’s going to make the first move now that we’re alone. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait very long to find out.

Deuce unzips his winter jacket and takes it off, throwing it into the trunk section. Leaning forward, he pushes down my right armrest and leaves his hand facing up at my side. It’s an invitation for me to get closer. I turn and look back at him. His eyes are steady and confident, setting me at ease, so I take his hand and let him guide me into his lap. I’m grateful that he’s sure of himself, because at the moment, I have no idea what to do with my limbs as his hot, ripped chest muscles make contact with my back, radiating heat through my light winter coat and shooting need to that spot between my legs.

Heat rises to my cheeks at the feel of his arms wrapping around me. Hammer lowers his armrest and turns to me. He stretches a hand toward me, reaching up to the top of my jacket’s zipper, slowly sliding it down.

It feels strangely comforting to have them this close, one pressed up against me while the other removes a layer of my clothing. It’s almost as though they’re taking care of me, like I’m a full-sized doll being undressed. In a way, I am, because my arms and legs are numb. I can’t move. I can barely breathe. I can’t believe I’m going through with this.

What I need is to give myself a mental pep talk. I’ve been waiting to meet Club M members in my part of the world for a long time. Now that I have—and with not just one, but two of the hottest members I’ve ever seen—I need to act.

With my jacket now open, Hammer slides his hand under the seam of my loose button-down shirt. I bite down on my bottom lip after hearing a moan escape my lips as Hammer’s hand slides up my chest and comes to rest on one bra-covered breast. God, that feels good. He’s firm but gentle. Not the groping type at all. He eases into massaging my breast, and Deuce begins to move his hands up and down the sides of my hips, causing me to part my legs, yearning for focused contact where I need it.

I’m enjoying their touch so much that before I know it, Deuce has my work slacks unzipped and down my legs, all the way to my knees. Hammer pauses his breast massage to pull my pants down the rest of the way. It feels so damn good, I don’t care that I’m in these guys’ SUV with my pants off, my jacket wide open, my dress shirt halfway off, panties and bra exposed, and soaking wet between my legs.

With my thermal sock and winter boots still on.

They’re so out of place against my near nudity, I smirk for a split second, but am immediately back in the erotic moment as Deuce tilts my head to one side and presses his lips to my neck. At almost the same time, Hammer throws aside my pants and pulls a condom from his pocket. He passes it over to Deuce and kneels between my legs. Spreading me as wide as the space between the two middle-row seats allows, his hands travel up my thighs, and his head lowers to my pussy.

Hammer presses his mouth to my clit through my soaked panties while Deuce devours my neck and plays with my breasts. The desire in my core is almost too much to stand. I finally overcome my partial paralysis, grinding my ass on Deuce’s throbbing cock. Every second makes me braver, and soon, I move aside the fabric of my panties and run my hand through Hammer’s hair. I need to feel his lips make direct contact with my clit.

I’ve been so wound up for so long that if I’m not careful, I’ll end up coming any second now. My brain shuts off, letting my primal urges take over. I want this. I fucking need this. Probably more than Deuce and Hammer do.

Hammer makes room for his hand between my legs and slides two fingers into my dripping wet pussy. His tongue circles my clit, then he sucks it in between his lips as he fucks me with thick, sure fingers. Christ. I’m moaning so loudly, breathing heavily at their combined touch. The opening of the condom wrapper in Deuce’s hand echoes in the vehicle. I’m so ready. I need more. Hammer reacts to the sound too, lifting off of me. While on his knees, he places his hand into my hair and pulls my head to his for a hot, demanding kiss that gives me a taste of my own juices. I’m wild with desire now, my tongue entwined with his. I start to miss Deuce’s body heat at my back and ass, yet I can’t help but love the feel of Hammer’s hands buried in my hair as he pulls me closer.

I realize how in sync they are when Hammer slowly lowers me slightly sideways without letting me touch Deuce, and slides into the back seat beside his friend. Deuce takes hold of my hips just then. He pulls me toward him until I feel the head of his thick cock between my legs, in position to penetrate me. It feels so good this close, so exciting, but not close enough. I reach down and wrap my fingers around his condom-covered shaft, encouraging him to keep going.

And he does.

In one thrust, Deuce buries inside my pussy at the same time that he pulls me hard against his groin. The move tears me from Hammer’s kiss, but he’s also ready for me. The zipper of his jeans is all the way down and his cock—oh my God, it’s massive—springs free before I even notice his hand lowering my head. I can’t take my eyes off the head of that snake. Jesus. The idea of sucking his huge dick while Deuce fucks me is so hot, I can’t wait to try it out. I’d roll up my sleeves if I still had them on. With a distracted half-smile, I return some of my focus to the thick cock at my opening. It’s beyond pleasure, lowering myself the rest of the way on Deuce as I find the tip of Hammer’s bulging cock with my mouth. Parting my lips, I take as much of his impressive size as far as it’ll go. I let my tongue travel around the girth each time that I take him deeper into my mouth from the force of each and every one of Deuce’s thrusts from behind.

Then I have a moment of clarity.

Deuce is impaling my cunt hard and rough.

Hammer’s invading my mouth with punishing thrusts that hit the back of my throat.

And I’m in the middle, getting everything that I’ve been fantasizing about since what seems like forever.

My senses go on overload, my body’s on fire, and my core is pulsating. The pleasure and need escalate until it’s more than I can handle, and I come, shaking with a force I’ve never felt before.

Yes.

This is what I wanted all along.

Needed.

Had to have.

As my body starts to descend from my convulsion of an orgasm, I pick up where I left off, sucking off Hammer as Deuce continues to plunge into me from behind. Hammer has his climax next, filling my mouth and my throat with his hot salty release, which I greedily swallow until there’s nothing left. Then Deuce’s body seizes behind me. He grips my hips and slams into me for a few more ruthless strokes until he begins to shake.

The combined rush of sensations overtakes me once more, and I come hard again with Deuce, and one carnal sliver of a thought slipping into my awareness.

Club M.

Indeed.

Membership has its privileges.