by Kay Maree
“So you want to know if we screw?” A smile played on King’s lips, and his bright blue eyes twinkled in the dim light of the private club. He looked at Rome who picked up his train of thought.
“Because it gets you hot?”
“Are you going to tell her, or should I?” King quirked his eyebrow at Rome.
“I will. You’re kind of right about the chemistry. Kind of way off base. Yes, there is a lot flying around right now, but it’s not each other we’re hot for, it’s you. Both of us.”
Oh. Shit.
“We’ve never fucked. We’re not into each other that way. But have we watched each other do the deed? More times, and with more women than I could hope to count. Have we ever shared the same woman? Ditto.”
The sexual tension crackling between us ratcheted up about a thousand percent, and the rush of blood to my face heated my skin to the point where I felt like I needed fresh air.
I looked between the two of them, and found them staring at me with hungry eyes. “I’m gonna head off. I think we’ve achieved what we set out to do through the chemistry session, but I doubt we’ll get any actual work done today. Reconvene at the studio at the crack of 10.00 a.m. tomorrow?”
“Why stop now? We’re finally getting to the good stuff. Stay. Let’s drink a little more. Dance a little. That always takes the edge off.” The look on Rome’s face told me he was interested in anything but cooling things down a notch.
“Dance? Here?” I looked around. Yes, the room was dimly lit and intimate, but I was sure it would draw unwanted attention if the three of us got up and started dancing—even in our quiet corner. Not the least of reasons being that there was no music playing.
“I don’t want to put on a floor show.”
Roman threw his head back and laughed heartily. The sound sent shockwaves through my body, the throaty, melodious tinkle hitting all the right chords within me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KING
“Not in here. There’s a room next door with music. It’s a lot more… intimate than in here.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, either, but for different reasons.”
“Like what?” The lust blazing in Rome’s eyes was either going to set Quincy’s libido on fire, or chase her away. I could tell she was hot for us, but on the other hand, she was also skittish as anything, and it could really go either way.
We were all standing now, after Quincy announced her departure. Rome took a step closer to her. She didn’t back away from him, but she looked like she might at any minute. He reached out and moved a stray curl from in front of her eyes. She stood stock still for a moment, as though contemplating her next move, and at the last second as he began to withdraw his hand, she turned her head slightly to kiss his palm, before looking up to meet his eyes.
Holy. Shit. It was probably the most innocent touch I’d ever seen him share with a woman who wasn’t a relative, but it turned me on more than any other. The look in her eyes said it all. She wanted him. Badly.
“Because—” Her voice was low and husky “—professionalism. We work together. Best to keep things simple, and not blur boundaries any further than they already are.”
“Sticking within imaginary and arbitrary lines between us isn’t going to simplify this.” He motioned between the three of us. “In fact, it’s going to bring more complications. We do what we want to do now, then it’s out of the way, and we can get on with writing.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“Why not?” Rome looked at her like he didn’t get it. Which he genuinely didn’t. He didn’t equate sex and emotions, and never had.
“It’s complicated. People are complicated. Mixing business and pleasure is a recipe for disaster. This whole thing has fuckup written all over it from the get-go, without adding more confusion into the mix.”
I agreed with her, but then as Rome would say, being the straight down the line wasp, I would.
I hung back slightly, watching as the conversation ping-ponged back and forth between the two of them.
“That’s bullshit. Things are only complicated if we make them that way, and I personally have no intention of doing so. I’m all about the good times, baby. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
No truer word had ever been said about anyone than those. So much so, that I was pretty sure they would be his epitaph. “Here lies Roman Ivanenko. He was all about the good times.” I fought back laughter at the idea.
“Well that’s nice for you. I’m all about living like an adult, not an adolescent.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” His tone was sharp.
He quirked an eyebrow her way. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her tone was sharper.
“It means that as far as I can see, sitting on your sensible ‘adult’ high horse hasn’t done you a whole lot of good. Meanwhile, I’ve done just fine with my ‘adolescent’ ways. So…”
“How dare yo—”
“Hey.” I realized that if I didn’t step in and mediate, they’d likely tear each other’s eyes out. “It’s just a dance. Nothing to lose sleep over. Let’s dance, and have a little fun. Okay?” I coaxed gently.
This wasn’t unusual, me playing good cop to Rome’s bad. He literally had one setting—asshole. It worked for probably eighty percent of the women we came into contact with. For the other twenty, I was there to smooth the way. I wasn’t sure that my charms were enough to rescue the situation in this case, though. It looked like Rome had completely ruined the vibe. Not that I blamed her. If someone pretty much told me my hard work had amounted to nothing, I’d be hella pissed, too.
I waited it out, watching her closely as she cycled through a myriad of emotions. Just as she looked to be about to tell us no, I leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, while keeping my gaze fixed firmly on Rome’s.
“We’ll dance. Have a little fun. I promise I’ll keep him in line.” When I felt her shudder as my breath grazed her ear, I knew I had her. She looked up, slowly seeking me out, her gray-green gaze earnest and wanting. When she found my gaze locked on hers, she quickly shifted her focus to Rome. I looked at him too. He was staring back defiantly. Jesus, he was a dick.
“Okay. But I call the shots. Any more bullshit from him,” she jutted her chin Rome’s way “—and I’m out.”
Instead of speaking, I laced my fingers through hers. She stiffened briefly at the unexpected contact, but then immediately relaxed her hand in mine. I leaned forward again, this time speaking so quietly, there was no way Rome could hear.
“No more bullshit. I promise. Let’s go.”
I led her by the hand through the now busy bar, and out into the opulent hall. A few feet down, I pushed open a heavy wood-paneled door, and led her inside the room.
“It’s like a tiny nightclub, but it’s the middle of the day.”
“Yeah. This place is kind of like a casino in that sense. It’s designed so that you can work, rest and play any time of day or night.”
“Emphasis on the play,” Rome chimed in, as the door swished closed behind us, the smile hovering at the edges of his lips leaving no illusion as to what he meant.
I watched Quincy as she looked around, taking in her surroundings.
“Looks like we have the place to ourselves.”
“Perfect.” I gently pulled her further into the room. “You like to dance?”
Her face lit up the room like a firework as she answered. “Like it? I love it.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she’d scooted further into the space, and was swaying to the beat. Seconds later, she’d closed her eyes, and was rocking her hips back and forth in a slow figure of eight.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROME
Holy. Fucking. Shit
As she raised her arms in the air and tipped her head back, increasing the size of the circles she created with her waist and hips. I couldn’t take my eyes off
her. She was fully clothed and barely moving her body, really, but I’d never seen anything hotter. Something about the way she seemed so lost in the music, giving herself over to it as though nobody was watching—this time, and in the ballroom after the Sonata Awards—had me wanting to screw her more than any woman I’d ever met.
And of course, someone was watching. Two someones, to be exact. I looked across at King, noting that he was as transfixed as me, his eyes hungrily eating up her every move. We stayed that way for a few songs in a row, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to touch her.
In a few short paces I was right behind her, my hands at her waist. I lowered my head, aligning my lips with her ear.
“Dance with me again?”
She nodded, reaching backward, and lacing her raised hands into my hair. I had a flashback to the night we first met—she’d let the music take hold then, too, gripping my neck in the same way.
Without interrupting the flow of her movements, she angled her butt backward into my erection, pushing rhythmically, bringing me along with the beat. I swayed with her, grinding into her as hard as the barriers between us would allow.
It was the best dry sex I’d ever had, but nowhere near enough to quench the desire I had for her. Not even close. So much so, that my dick was about to make a jailbreak from my pants of its own accord, if I didn’t do something about it, stat.
Meeting King’s eyes, I started walking slowly backward toward a nearby wall, pulling her gently with me. Quincy followed my lead without hesitation, and still without breaking her rhythm.
When we reached the wall, I leaned back on it, using it to anchor us, and again, she responded accordingly, dropping her hands from behind my head and bending forward at the waist slightly, to push harder into my dick. The feeling was heaven with a side of hell. I wanted to be inside her so badly, I couldn’t fucking see straight.
On cue, King stepped in front of us, putting his hands against the wall on either side of our heads. Quincy tilted her head upward to watch King as he. leaned into us. He nudged her legs open with his knee, then joined in with our dance. Quincy ground rhythmically into his thigh at the front, and my dick at the back, each swivel of the hips increasing the intensity and fire between us.
King leaned forward slightly. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Quincy nodded, and in an instant King bent down further, pressing his lips to hers, as though he’d known she would say yes. The bolt of electricity that flowed through the three of us in a continual closed circuit set my body and mind racing.
“I want to feel how wet you are.” My voice betrayed my desire for her.
She nodded again, and I quickly moved one hand from her hip, sliding it between our bodies. With the other, I hitched her flowing skirt high enough to dip my hand under it. My finger hovered at Quincy’s panty-clad entrance, and her body stilled as she awaited my next move.
I wasted no time in slipping my finger into her panties, and inside her in one slick move. Jesus fuck. Her body jolted, and she let her head fall back onto my chest again, pulling her lips away from King’s, arching her back and tilting her head further as her eyes rolled back in her head, and her eyelids slid closed.
I pulled my gaze from her, locking in with King’s. He looked pissed at the loss of her lips, and I couldn’t blame him. I smirked. Better luck next time, buddy.
He raised his eyebrow as though hearing my inner thoughts, then moved one hand from the wall, and lowered it below Quincy’s waist. His face said it all. Challenge accepted.
“Me too.” His voice was firm, almost commanding.
She nodded again, keeping her eyes closed. King lifted her skirt at the front, and moved his leg from between hers, I guessed, replacing it with his hand. The powerful jolt of her body confirmed my suspicion, but she didn’t miss a beat, continuing to “dance,” sandwiched between the two of us.
We carried on like that, me with my finger rotating slowly in and out of Quincy, King stimulating her clit, the two of us staring each other down angrily, while we worked her over, in sync, but out of alignment. The weird vibe of the situation wasn’t lost on me.
Like I’d told Quincy, King and I had been with the same woman countless times before, but never like this. It had never felt like there was so much at stake, and there hadn’t ever been tension between the two of us like this.
For us, fucking was pretty much a sport, a recreational pastime to make the days on the road—and at home—go faster. We didn’t think about it too much the moment it was over. It was barely of more consequence than brushing our teeth, or drinking water. Rome even more so than me.
I definitely couldn’t remember a time when sex, or any woman, had been a source of strain between us. We’d been sharing since the first time we realized we had eyes on the same girl. That time, and every time since, a three-way had been the perfect solution to that particular “problem.” No harm, no foul. But this time, something felt different. The friction made no sense to me, but it was unmistakably there.
When Quincy started to move faster, tightening around my finger, I smirked at King. Not that I could totally lay claim to her orgasm—after all, he was there too—but given I had my hand inside her, and she was about to come all over it, I figured I was good to take the lion’s share of the credit.
It seemed that King had other ideas though, as moments later, he dropped to his knees, pushing Quincy’s skirt up, pulling her panties aside, and pressing his mouth to her clit.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
QUINCY
I came harder than I could ever remember coming before—even that night in the cloakroom—involuntary cries of ecstasy tearing from me as the pleasure became too much to contain within my body. I’d had my eyes closed for so long, lost in the sea of sensation, that for all I knew, we could have had an audience of thousands watching me lose my ever-loving mind with two guys I still barely knew.
I should probably have cared more about the potential for public humiliation, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn.
I let myself enjoy my orgasm fully, and only when I’d come down from my high, did I open my eyes. Though I’d been prepared to face the world, if I’d let a man go down on me while another fingered me from behind with other people watching, I was relieved to see that the room was as empty as it had been when we’d entered.
I blinked a few times, reacclimatizing to the dim light, then felt the blood rush to my cheeks yet again. I was shocked, and not a little horrified at what I had just done. It was as though my conscience was late to the party, but she’d suddenly shown up with a vengeance, and was determined to make up for lost time. She was a buzz-killing party pooper
“Hey, don’t look like that. That was hot as fuck.” As he spoke, King leaned toward me, brushing his wet lips lightly over mine. One of his hands floated to my hip—the opposite side to where Roman was holding me. His other stayed on the wall to the side of Roman’s head. He leaned down further, and this time, despite the pangs of guilt, I pressed my mouth to his, devouring the taste of myself on his lips.
“Turn around, I have something for you too.” The sound of Roman’s voice, low, and husky with desire flooded my body with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I was torn between wanting to continue kissing King, and wanting whatever Rome had to give me. I tore my lips from King’s, and pivoted to face Rome.
My breath hitched as I read the pure carnal hunger in his eyes.
“Here.” He slipped his finger into my mouth, and I sucked it hard, enjoying the flavor of me on him, just as I had with King’s mouth.
“Now I want to taste you.” He lowered his lips to mine, pressing hard. His kiss was so different from King’s. Where King’s was smooth, languid and measured, allowing for plenty of give and take. Rome’s was always hard, rough, and domineering. It was clear that with everything he did, it was his way or the highway. Unusually for me, I didn’t fight it. I let him lead the dance, and actually enjoyed the fe
eling of him being in control.
He moved the hand that had been in my mouth to the nape of my neck, and squeezed, drawing me nearer to him at the same time. I let him deepen the kiss, leaning my body into his, feeling the strength of his erection as it pushed against my stomach. King moved too, resting harder against my back, so that his erection pressed urgently against my ass. He dipped his head, gracing my neck and shoulders with tiny butterfly kisses.
I’d never even kissed two different guys in quick succession before, let alone whatever the hell the three of us were doing. It was all shades of wrong, on so many levels, yet something about it felt so right. I’d just come, but I was instantly right back at the point where I couldn’t get enough of them, desperately chasing my next orgasm.
I stood on tiptoe, pressing harder against Rome’s lips, and when he demanded entrance to my mouth with his tongue, I didn’t hesitate to grant it to him. He roamed my mouth like an explorer discovering new and uncharted territories.
Despite the nagging need to come again, I could have stayed that way, reveling in the contrast between rough and smooth offered by the best friends, forever. The two men were just about as different as two people could be. One blond, one dark. One smooth, the other rough. One measured, his counterpart wild.
Surprisingly, it was Rome who put the brakes on in the end, wrenching his lips from mine, then lowering his head once more, to speak into my ear, his voice a low, menacing growl.
“We can’t stay here like this. I need more.”
“I don’t…” I didn’t even know what the end of the sentence was.
Don’t what? Don’t want more? That would be an obvious lie. Don’t want to stop? There was some truth in that, but on the other hand, part of me thought we really should. Not that long ago, I’d been the one berating the guys about professionalism and boundaries, and now here I was, trampling all over both things with just a little encouragement from them.
