Savannah and Martin at 219 Harper's Cove

by Deanndra Hall

  “You can never have too many friends, now can you?” she twitters nervously.

  Yes, you can, if one of them is you, I think to myself. “It’s a closed group. The others like it that way, and I’m not one to ask them to change their minds.”

  She seems sad but satisfied with that answer. “Well, if you ever change your minds, let me know. We’d love to come over sometime.” Before I can get away, she asks the twenty million dollar question: “So why was that guy leaving so early in the morning? And where was Mr. McIntosh?”

  I’ve already spun toward the door and I’m running. “I’ve really got to get moving, Gloria. Everyone will be here pretty soon. Nice talking to you.” I make it through the door and shut it behind me, then lean against it. Oh, goddamn. She’s been watching our house. I’m surprised she hasn’t noticed the guys leaving before, and then I realize―maybe she has. Maybe she’s seen every one of them.

  I’ll be glad when Martin gets home. I don’t know what to do. What can we do?

  I’ve got everything ready when he walks through the door. “We need to talk,” I tell him, and he can see from the look on my face that it’s serious.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He strokes my cheek and I almost cry as I recount the conversation I’d had with Gloria. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “I don’t know what to do. What do we do?”

  “I think …” and then a thought hits me. “I think from now on me and whomever I draw should just go to a hotel. I’ll stay there when he leaves, and you can come and pick me up at the hotel and bring me back home with you. It’s not a very good solution, but for now it’s all I can think of.”

  “Unless,” he says, “unless you want to just go ahead and do what we’ve been doing. So what if she finds out? What’s she going to do?”

  “She could make it very, very hard for us here in the neighborhood.” I’m scared to death they’ll push us out.

  “How so?”

  “How do you think the neighbors would feel about us?” I’m trembling.

  Martin laughs. “How do they feel about her? That’s the question you should be asking. And the answer is, they don’t like her any more than we do. I think they’d toss her out if they could. And I can’t believe we’re the only ones on this street having any fun. Someone else has to be doing something that would look questionable.”

  Hmmmm … maybe he’s right. Maybe someone else is doing something that she wouldn’t like. Maybe they all would turn against her and back us. Before I can say anything, he asks, “Are you ready to scrap our lifestyle because of her?”

  “Hell no,” I blurt out. I’m not. To hell with Gloria Livingston. I’ll fuck whomever I please.

  I know I can’t be with Tristan two weeks in a row; that’s a rule. But I really, really want to. I’m insanely jealous when he winds up with Angel. And I wind up with Hayden. When they came through the door, it was obvious once again that something’s going on between the two of them. This week, Martin goes with Jasmine, and I have to wonder how that will go.

  Once everyone else is gone, Hayden is still sitting on the sofa. I can’t help it; I just feel compelled to ask him what’s wrong. “Do you want to talk for awhile?”

  “About what?”

  “About what’s going on with you and Angel. Everyone sees it. You might as well come clean, honey.”

  He sighs. “Is it that obvious?” I nod. “Things just aren’t going very well.”

  “Meaning?”

  He shakes his head. “You won’t like it.”

  That alarms me a little. “What do you mean, I won’t like it?”

  He looks up at me and locks eyes with me. “She wants to leave me for one of the men in this group.” I wait, afraid of what he’s about to say. “Savannah, it’s Martin.”

  My heart nearly stops. “Martin?”

  He nods. “Yep. She says she’s in love with him.”

  I rake through my memory, but I can honestly say I haven’t had any clue that Martin might feel the same way. Before I get a chance to say anything else, Hayden says, “Of course, two months ago it was Rowan. And three months before that, it was Jeremy.” I start to relax a little. “We started doing this because she wanted to. And now I see why. I don’t think it’s them. I think it’s anyone but me.”

  I feel sorry for the guy. He’s trying to please his wife, and this is what happens. I take his hand. “Let’s go upstairs and lose ourselves for the night, whaddya say? Forget about all of that. And tomorrow I’ll have a talk with Martin about this, see if we can come up with something that will help you―help you both.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t―”

  “Yes. I should. And now we should. Come on.” I stand and reach for his hand. “Let’s go. Let’s make the most of the night. It’s not like we’ve never spent the evening together before and, as I recall, it’s always been fun. So let’s do it again!” I wink at him and he finally smiles, then stands and takes my hand, and we head up the stairs.

  “You know, I think I’d like to shower,” Hayden says when we get upstairs. “Want to join me?”

  My eyebrows lift and I shrug. “Sure! That sounds pretty good. Toothbrushes are … well, you know where they are.” I start the water and step into the steamy embrace of the rainfall effect. Within a minute, Hayden is right there, and his arms wrap around my waist. His hands travel like satin up my ribcage and cup my breasts, and strong fingers and thumbs twist and pull my already-hardened nipples. I can’t help but moan.

  “You know, Savannah, of all the women in this group, you’re the one I’m most comfortable with. You’re just open and honest, and you’re easy to talk to.” He kisses the side of my neck. “I’ve always had a good time with you. And your pussy …” He bends me forward until my arms are folded onto the built-in bench in the shower and I feel him move into place behind me. “Oh, god, I need to be buried inside you. I hope you’re ready.”

  I’m not, but I know he needs this, needs to feel like a man, like someone wants him. “I need it too, Hayden. Just take me, please?”

  He presses his hardness into my softness, and I let out a low moan when he slides into my depths. I was readier than I thought, and I have no trouble taking him. He strokes in a consistent, pleasant rhythm, and it lights me up like a Christmas tree. The longer he strokes, the tighter and hotter I get, and I find myself squirming and pressing back against him. I love the feel of his fingers as they dig into my waist, pulling me back against him as he moves forward. He groans out, “Oh, Savannah, you feel so good, baby. I need to unload right now. Please? Can I do that, please?”

  Suddenly I’m sorry for him, sorry for what Angel’s putting him through, sorry that he feels like he has to beg a woman to get what he wants. “Do it, sweetie. Just do it. I’m right here with you.” There’s that sudden lengthening and thickening, and then there’s a warmth in the condom that I can actually feel. When he’s spent, he leans down over my back and wraps his arms around me. That’s when I feel it―he starts to tremble.

  I’m pretty sure he’s crying, and I don’t quite know what to do. “Hey, honey, let’s get out and get dried off, okay? I’m turning into a prune!” I try to make light of everything, and we get out and towel off.

  Before I can finish, he says, “Let me. Please? I want to.” He takes the towel out of my hands and, before I can protest, he starts to towel me off. It’s a gentle, caring kind of thing, and I’m suddenly caught off guard by this man’s tenderness and consideration. There’s no lecherousness here, just a good, solid man trying to be a gentleman. I’ve always liked Hayden, but now I really respect him too.

  When he’s finished drying me off, I smile at him and I think of something. “Thanks, Hayden. Hey, come on! I want to do something for you!” I lead him into the bedroom and point to the bed. “Stretch out on the bed and get comfortable. Face down.” When he’s all laid out, I climb up and straddle his legs. Starting with his shoulders, I massage deep and hard. A deep groan leaves his throat and I can f
eel him relaxing under my hands, the tightened muscles giving way and smoothing out. My hands work out the knots I find and then move downward until I’m working the tightness out of his waist, manipulating everything on either side of his spine as I go. When my hands finally make it to the small of his back, he turns his head enough to be able to see me out the corner of his eye.

  “Savannah, that feels so good.” He takes one of my hands, draws me off him, and then rolls over. His cock is hard and throbbing, and I feel every muscle between my legs draw up and tense in anticipation. Hayden rises up on his knees, wraps his big hands around the back of my neck, and kisses me. “Do you want me, little one? Do you want me to fill you up over and over?” he moans into my mouth.

  I whisper back to him, “Yes. Make me scream, babe. Make me come.”

  Quick as a wink, he’s got me down on the mattress, and he slides down between my legs and plants his face in my sex. His tongue is sandpaper on my swollen bud, and I writhe and moan, my fingers tangled in his hair, holding him down, begging with my hips for him to keep going. He’s talented at what he’s doing, and in minutes I come with a cry, my hips churning and shaking.

  When he finally stops, he looks up at me and grins. “Good?”

  I grin back at him. “Good? No. Great! Get up here and fill me up, stud.” In a flash he’s beside me, his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. One glance at his face and I see something I haven’t seen before: Gratitude. That was completely unexpected, and it takes me completely by surprise. I stroke the side of his face and watch his expression change, from lust to something softer and sweeter.

  “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he whispers.

  I nod and smile. “Yes. I really am. You’re great in the sack, Hayden. No complaints here.”

  He kisses me. It’s not the usual expected or required kiss. It’s genuine, something between a thanks and an invitation to pour myself into him. It’s … nice. Very nice. Comfortable even. And in that moment I realize that I really am enjoying myself. I also realize that I haven’t thought about Tristan all night, and I haven’t thought about Martin since we talked about Angel earlier. It’s refreshing, actually, to be that removed from the things that take up my everyday thoughts and to be put in a position where I’m just thinking about myself and the man I’m with and what’s happening in that moment. I kiss him back and feel that connection, almost familial, but with a hint of raw sexuality. He presses the head of his cock into my folds and I tip my pelvis to meet it, and in a second he’s slipped inside me and pumping.

  And I’m carried away. I slip toward ecstasy with Hayden as my guide, and his hands and mouth guide me along the way, making it easier for me to go there than it has been in a long, long time. Does Angel appreciate this, the vulnerability and willingness to bare his feelings, that I’m experiencing with her husband? Is he this transparent with her? If he’s not, he should be. I have to ask: “Do you and Angel make love this way?”

  He shakes his head and a sad look comes over his face. “No. She wants all kinds of acrobatics and performance art. I just want to love her, but she’s not interested in that.” And that’s a shame, because the need is rolling off this man, the desire to have someone tell him that he’s good and kind and decent. I run my hands up his back, up into his hair, and he leans down, kisses me, and moans into my mouth. I feel him relax first and then begin to tense as he gets closer to the ultimate goal. All of the heat and craziness is rising in me too, my breathing quickening and my heart rate soaring.

  Hayden groans, “Oh, yeah. Oh, Savannah, baby, come with me?”

  I nod fast and hard. “I want to, Hayden. I really do. Faster, please?” He gives it all he has, and I’m right there. Then I tip over the edge, my tightness gripping him even tighter, and he grunts and slams into me repeatedly, then falls on top of me.

  When he’s had a chance to catch his breath, he surprises me by rising up on his hands, leaning down, and kissing me. When he pulls back, he simply says, “Thanks, Savannah. Thanks for being nice to me.”

  “You’re easy to be nice to! You’re a good guy, Hayden. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He drops down onto the bed beside me and stares at the ceiling. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  He sighs. “I’m just thinking about how I really don’t want to go home.”

  My heart breaks for him. “Hey, don’t think about it. We’ve got hours left. Let’s just have some fun! Let’s go play in the living room. Or the kitchen.” I take his hand and pull him up from the bed and toward the hallway.

  “Or right here,” he growls, then grabs my arm and spins me around, trapping me between his body and the wall. “I want you again, Savannah. Right now.” I can feel his cock straining against my belly and, quick as a wink, he lifts me up with his hands under my thighs and drops me down, impaling my pussy on his hardness. A shriek pops out of my mouth and he starts to pound into me, a relentless driving that surprises and thrills me. It’s delicious, so fast and hot. I wrap my arms around his neck and hang on, and when I bite his earlobe, it’s game on.

  He’s slamming me against the wall with his thrusts, fast and furious, the scent of our sex filling the space right around us, and everything inside me starts to melt. He’s turned into the epitome of maleness, uncaring when it comes to my satisfaction, just using my body as his release, his plane of pleasure, and my arousal hits an all-time high for the night. It’s as heady and thrilling as anything I’ve done in weeks, even with Tristan. “Do you like it, baby? Tell me if you like it.”

  “I don’t like it. I love it. Damn, fuck me, Hayden. Just keep fucking me,” I manage to pant out. In under two minutes I’m shaking with my climax, and Hayden keeps going, his shaft piercing me over and over, a staccato tempo like a string of firecrackers going off. “Keep going, baby, don’t stop.”

  The tension in his shoulders and neck is bound to be unbearable, and then he whispers, “You fuck so damn good. I can’t stop.” I’m beginning to believe that it’s true―it’s going to go on forever, and right at the moment that’s fine with me. A couple of minutes later I hear him mutter, “Shit, I’m gonna come. Oh, god, Savannah, I’m gonna come.” He keeps going and finally yells out, “Oh yeah! Oh my god, baby, oh my god!”

  Hayden rests against me, his forehead pressed against mine, still holding me up and on his cock. I’m sure he’s exhausted until he says, “Want to get back in the shower?”

  “Sure! I’d love it!” I’ve always loved showering with a man. It just seems more primitive to me than any other setting. And it’s not something Martin is crazy about, so this is a good opportunity for me to get my mojo on.

  While the water heats up, I light some candles and turn out the ceiling lights. Hayden is behind me, stroking my back the whole time, and when I finally turn around he plants a hot, firm kiss on my neck, nibbling afterward, and I melt. I reach down and find his cock, firm and waiting, and lead him by it into the shower. Once in, I kneel in front of him and take him in my mouth, all of him, slowly and down my throat. The moan that escapes his lips makes my whole body hum with anticipation. I start to stroke down onto him, tasting his pre-cum, that sour, salty taste I love, and I moan around his shaft.

  Before the vibration from my moan can die, his hands wrap in my hair and pull me down over him, and he begins a purposeful thrusting into my throat. I feel myself growing wet again, and I can feel my clit pulsing and swelling. In minutes he cries out and fills my mouth and throat, his bitter creaminess warming me. As soon as his cock stops twitching, Hayden pulls me to my feet.

  His arms wrap around my waist and he kisses me. This isn’t your garden variety kiss, no. It’s as steamy as the water pounding down on us from the showerhead, and it goes on for what seems like forever. When it ends, I open my eyes to find Hayden’s searching my face. In a near whisper, he says, “Savannah, can I ask you something? Will you be honest with me?”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  His face reddens, then he manages to stammer out, “I
f Angel leaves me, do you think any other woman would want me?”

  I fight the urge to laugh, but I can’t hide my smile. “Are you kidding? They’ll be fighting over you!”

  “No, really, don’t try to make me feel good, just tell me the truth. I can take it.”

  At that, I shake my head and the laughter just pops out. “I’m not lying to you. They’ll be fighting over you, I promise. You're a great guy, a decent and smart guy, and you’re good-looking too. And you’re polite and considerate. Not to mention that you’re a helluva lover. You won’t have any trouble if it comes to that. But I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  A thoughtful look spreads across his face. “You know, maybe it should. Maybe I’ve been hanging on too long. Maybe I should just let her go. I mean, it’s obvious that she’s unhappy, and I love her but she’s making me unhappy. Maybe I should just let go and let her go out to find the happiness she wants. Then I could maybe find some too.” It’s like he’s had an epiphany and suddenly I’m proud of him.

  “Well, I can tell you this, she’ll be hard pressed to ever find another guy as good as you. I don’t want to see you two break up, but I would like to see both of you happy, especially you. You deserve it.” With that, I give him a huge, genuine smile.

  He grins back. “Thanks. I appreciate that. You’re a good person, Savannah. If we break up and I have to leave the group, I’m just glad I got to know you, you and Martin both. You’re good people.”

  I take him by the hand and lead him out of the shower, then take a few minutes to carefully and gently dry him. When he’s done the same for me, I hand him a robe, take mine, and say, “Let’s take a break. Let’s go downstairs, fix some coffee, have a brownie or something and just talk.”

  He gives me a small, sad smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

  “Have a good time last night?” Martin asks as he comes through the front door. He drops his jacket on the sofa and makes his way to me, his arms wrapping around my waist. His lips are on mine in a second, and he kisses me long and deep before I pull back.