by Mari Carr
Her cousins were making the trip from Philadelphia to Baltimore on Monday to confer with the Collinses about the renovations. If anyone could restore Pat’s Pub to its former glory, making it not only look the same but even better, it was the Moretti brothers. She’d spent years watching Tony, Joey, Luca, and Gio work their magic, and she’d said so to Oliver countless times since the fire. She wasn’t sure it helped much, though. Too many times over the past week, she’d catch a glimpse of his face—unguarded—and the sorrow she saw there cut her like a knife.
Oliver dipped out three plates while Gavin refilled her wineglass, plus two more. They all carried their wine and plates to the table. Conversation between the three of them was never an issue, though typically she was the one doing the majority of the talking.
Tonight, that role fell to Oliver, who kept them entertained, retelling silly stories from past holidays with his cousins. She forced herself to listen but found her thoughts constantly drifting as she considered the night to come.
Erin glanced down after several minutes, shocked to discover her plate empty. She couldn’t recall what the meal had even tasted like, too distracted. She wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or nervousness—probably both—that had her palms sweating, her heart racing a bit too fast.
Oliver’s long sigh captured her attention. “We should have skipped dinner. It’s obvious the two of you didn’t enjoy my efforts.”
“Sorry,” Erin said sheepishly, aware she should probably feel guiltier than she did. In truth, she was glad the meal was over, excited to move on to the next part.
“Me too,” Gavin called over his shoulder. He must have felt the same because he was halfway to the kitchen with his empty plate before she’d even risen.
Oliver chuckled, then reached for her hand, pulling her up. “You’re happy, right?” he murmured.
“So happy,” she whispered.
He leaned close and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Me too,” he said, repeating what Gavin just said.
They followed Gavin to the kitchen, each of them just putting their dishes in the sink.
“We’ll clean up later,” Oliver said.
The three of them walked down the hall, no one speaking. It should have felt strange, awkward even, but Erin had never felt more certain, more comfortable. While Oliver had told her of his desire for a relationship like the one his parents had, he’d convinced her that dream had changed once he met her. And he’d never—not once—made her feel like she wasn’t enough. They’d had more than a few heart to hearts about his childhood and how it had felt to be surrounded by the love of not two but three parents.
Every time they had that conversation, it always ended the same way. With Oliver telling her how much he loved her, how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and how she would always be enough for him.
And she’d never doubted the truth of those words because she had felt the same way.
She knew now they’d both been lying to themselves and to each other. There had been a piece missing.
As they entered her bedroom, Gavin turned and reached out for her. Drawing her close, he kissed her deeply, passionately, and she suddenly realized he’d been holding back earlier.
When they parted, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Oliver leaning against the doorframe—watching them but apart.
He shook his head at her curious look. “Not tonight.”
Before she could question him about that, Gavin cupped her cheek and turned her face back to him, resuming the kiss. It was clear Gavin and Oliver had talked about this, about how things would go. And she was more than happy to follow their lead.
“Take off her shirt,” Oliver murmured from the door.
Gavin broke their kiss, never taking his eyes off her, as he reached for the hem of her top—she was still in her scrubs—and pulled it over her head. She recalled doing the exact same thing last night, standing before him in just her bra, so that she could wash out the stain.
However, unlike last night, Gavin didn’t look away, didn’t try to avoid looking at her body. Tonight, he drank it all in. His gaze felt like a caress as his eyes drifted lower, taking in every part of her.
“Touch her,” Oliver whispered.
Erin had been a fool to think Oliver wasn’t a part of this. He might not be touching her, but every word he said fueled her arousal, turned her on more.
Gavin ran the tip of one finger along the lace at the top of her bra, gently stroking the curve of one breast, traveling to the valley between, then starting the journey back over her other breast.
Erin took several shallow breaths, suddenly struggling to draw air into her lungs. It was a simple, almost innocent caress, but it packed a punch.
Gavin lifted his hand to her shoulder, slowly drawing her bra strap down, before repeating the same process on the other arm. Using both hands, he drew the lace lower until her breasts were completely revealed.
“Stroke her nipples,” Oliver said. “Run your fingers over them. Feel how tight they are.”
Gavin responded to everything Oliver told him to do, allowing him to guide them through this experience. Oliver was an intense lover, his dominance in the bedroom completely opposite from his easygoing attitude everywhere else. She, like Gavin, trusted him to know exactly how this should play out.
Erin gasped slightly when Gavin touched her nipples, first with the back of his fingers, then again with his fingertips.
“So tight,” he whispered. Erin wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Oliver or, God, maybe himself.
“Pinch them,” Oliver said, his voice suddenly husky. He was still in the doorway, too far away, but it was obvious he was feeling the heat, the sexual tension in the room thick as a heavy fog.
Gavin’s gaze left her for a moment, traveling over her shoulder to Oliver.
Oliver chuckled softly. “She likes a rough touch. Trust me.”
Gavin resumed stroking her and then, he did exactly as Oliver suggested, pinching both of her nipples firmly.
Erin’s hands flew up and she gripped Gavin’s forearms, not to pull him away but for support. “God,” she said, her eyes drifting closed. “Gavin.”
He pinched them again, tugging on them as well. “Open your eyes, Erin. I want to see.”
She blinked several times, trying to focus. “See?”
“See what this does to you. How it makes you feel. I need to know you like it.”
Erin smiled. “I love it. Do you…”
Suddenly, she understood Gavin’s need for reassurance.
This was uncharted territory. For both of them. He’d never been with a woman. And she’d never slept with…well…basically a virgin, at least a heterosexual one. Part of her was terrified he’d figure out he’d been wrong about his desires and call it to a halt.
Gavin cupped her breasts, squeezing them tightly. Then he lowered his head and kissed her again. “You’re beautiful. Jesus. I’m blown away by you.”
She giggled softly, too happy to keep the sound inside.
“Less talk, more action,” Oliver said from the doorway.
Erin glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes. “Come closer.”
Oliver sucked in a deep breath, but then did as she said. While he was only a few feet away from them, he still didn’t seek to join in. “Reach around her and unfasten her bra.”
Erin started to turn around, thinking it might make things easier, but Gavin halted her with firm hands on her shoulders. “Don’t move.”
He reached around her to unhook her bra. With his arms wrapped around her, it felt almost like an embrace, and she couldn’t stop herself from shifting closer, resting her cheek against his strong chest. She longed to see him as well, to strip him of his clothing, but after last night’s revelations, she thought it best that he take the lead on undressing himself.
He unfastened her bra with surprising skill, managing the task so quickly and efficiently, she lifted her head and gave him a curious look as he
pulled the lace away completely and dropped it to the floor.
“Beginner’s luck,” he murmured, as she and Oliver laughed lightly.
Erin’s laughter ended on a gasp when he resumed his ministrations on her breasts, wasting no time teasing her tight nipples with more pinches, more pulling. He wasn’t holding back a thing, and Erin loved it.
“Suck on them,” Oliver said at last. Erin had been mere seconds away from making that same demand.
Gavin bent his head, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples. Again, he didn’t use kid gloves, but instead took her with a passion that was dizzying. He sucked her nipple hard enough she saw stars. When he grunted, she realized she was gripping his hair, pulling it. She loosened her hold, but Gavin shook his head.
“Pull it harder,” he said, just before taking her other nipple into his mouth.
“Gavin likes it rough too,” Oliver said.
Erin ran her hands through his hair. She’d foolishly chastised him a few days earlier, telling him he was overdue for a haircut. Now she was grateful he hadn’t listened. She loved running her fingers through his thick mass of dark hair, and loved even more the way his groan trembled against her sensitive nipple when she tugged on it, pulled it.
Her back arched with delight.
Gavin lifted his head, his eyes soft with wonder. “Can you come from this?” he asked curiously.
She shook her head. “Not just that. Though it turns me on. A lot.” She reached for the bottom of his T-shirt but didn’t try to remove it. “May I?” she asked.
Gavin nodded, then helped her pull his T-shirt over his head. She leaned forward, losing no time in running her tongue over his nipple, teasing the tiny bit of flesh with her front teeth. Gavin moaned, his hands gripping her head firmly, holding her lips to his chest.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
“Now you know how I feel,” she whispered against his tattooed skin. There were fewer scars on his chest, but she was closer to them than she’d been last night, and now—like then—her heart ached for the young boy who’d been so brutalized by his own mother.
She wasn’t sure what she’d revealed, but it was clearly too much. Gavin tipped her face up with a firm finger under her chin. “Not tonight, Erin. There’s no place for her here. I don’t want your pity. Not now, not ever.”
She nodded, then decided to put them back on track. Moving forward again, she ran the tip of her tongue from one nipple to the next, then bent over, drawing it straight down his chest to his belly button. She started to drop to her knees, ready to move things along to the next part, but Gavin gripped her upper arms and pulled her upright.
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to feel your lips wrapped around my dick, sweet girl, but if we go there, this will all be over too soon. I want to see you. All of you.”
Sweet girl.
Oliver’s term of endearment. Had he told Gavin? Or had Gavin heard Oliver call her that last night?
She glanced over at Oliver, who was showing amazing patience, given the intense look of desire naked in his eyes. “You’re our sweet girl,” Oliver murmured. “You’re always going to be that.”
“Ours,” Gavin repeated, his fingers finding their way to the elastic waist of her scrubs. He pushed them and her panties over her hips. The soft cotton fell and she toed it off, along with her shoes. She glanced down, surprised to find Oliver kneeling next to them. He bid her to lift one foot, then the other, stripping her socks off for her. That was it. The only touch. Then he lifted one of his knees while resting his weight on the other, resembling a man on the verge of proposing.
“Put your foot on my knee, Erin,” Oliver directed.
She did as he said, the position opening her fully.
“Get down here,” Oliver said, looking at Gavin.
Gavin dropped to his knees in front of her and Erin reached out, placing one hand on each of their shoulders. It was either that or fall down. Her knees were weak, her body in overdrive. There was something completely overwhelming and sexy as hell about two virile, hot men kneeling before her.
“Ollie,” she whispered.
He looked up and gave her a wink that was equal parts charming and amused. He felt it too. The same incredible happiness that kept trying to burst out at the seams.
Gavin was oblivious to their interchange, his gaze locked on her pussy. Once more, Erin felt that slight pang of panic, and she bit her lower lip.
“Touch her,” Oliver said, though his command was very nonspecific considering his previous ones.
Gavin lifted his hand, drawing his fingers along her slit from ass to clit. Erin gasped, her grip tightening on their shoulders.
“Slippery,” Gavin whispered, gazing up at her. “Hot.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Not that Gavin gave her the opportunity. His attention returned to her pussy and he touched her again, running his fingers through her aroused juices.
Lifting his fingers, he paused for just a moment before sucking them into his mouth.
“Fuck,” Oliver muttered. “Jesus, man.”
If Erin could have found the breath, she might have laughed. Apparently Oliver, the self-proclaimed puppet master of this sex scene, hadn’t thought of that, suddenly getting swept away as well.
Gavin touched her again, his fingers now wet. He circled the entrance to her body, gathering up more of her arousal. This time, he lifted his fingers to Oliver.
Oliver hesitated for just a moment, and Erin realized that he’d meant to hold true to his assertion that tonight was just going to be her and Gavin.
Apparently Gavin was changing the game plan. “Just one taste.”
That was all the invitation Oliver needed as he sucked Gavin’s fingers into his mouth.
Erin fought to remain standing. “Holy shit,” she whispered.
Gavin grinned as he pulled his fingers out of Oliver’s mouth with a soft pop. Wet now from Oliver’s mouth, he moved in once more. This time he stroked the circle of her anus. Erin jerked slightly, her response causing Gavin’s eyes to narrow.
“Have you fucked her ass?” Gavin asked Oliver, though his eyes never left her face.
“Just with my fingers,” Oliver said.
Gavin’s gaze shifted to him. “Why?”
“I was waiting for you,” Oliver admitted.
Gavin shook his head with a huff of surprised laughter and Erin appreciated that response. So Oliver had lied to her. He’d never given up on his dream of the three of them. That was becoming more and more apparent as the night went on. If she weren’t so damn happy, she’d take him to task for hiding what he wanted from her, from them.
“Ollie,” she said softly.
Oliver gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry, Erin.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“God. This was meant to be. You both see that now, right?” Oliver asked, his question equal parts hope and fear. Even now, Oliver was still afraid this dream was just that…a dream.
Neither she nor Gavin bothered to demur or pretend.
Instead, they both nodded.
“We see,” she said.
“Touch her there again,” Oliver said.
Gavin stroked her anus a few times more, but it was clear his interests lie somewhere else. His fingers drifted back to the opening of her body and he swirled around it several times. “How many?” he asked, though Erin wasn’t sure if he was asking her or Oliver.
“Start with two,” Oliver murmured.
Gavin pressed two of his thick fingers inside, driving them straight to the hilt without a moment’s hesitation.
Erin cried out. “Oh my God!”
“Fuck her with your fingers, Gavin. Pretend it’s your cock. Show her what it’s going to be like when you finally take her.”
Gavin was one of the gentlest souls Erin had ever met, patient and calm, the ultimate caregiver, always tender.
That persona faded away in the bedroom. Like Oliver, it was as if her men had split personalitie
s, living their lives one way when out in the real world, and a completely different way behind the closed bedroom door.
He fucked her roughly with those two fingers, driving deep, hard, fast. Erin shifted her hips toward him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She was perilously close to the edge when the motion stopped.
She opened eyes she didn’t realize she’d shut and saw Oliver’s hand clenched tight around Gavin’s wrist, halting his movements.
“You haven’t seen the best part,” Oliver said, clearing the huskiness from his throat.
Gavin withdrew his fingers. “Show me.”
Oliver drew Gavin’s hand the slightest bit upwards, even as Erin shook her head.
“No,” she whispered. She was too close. One touch there and she would disintegrate. Not that that was a bad thing. Her resistance was based on the fact she wasn’t certain she could remain standing. Especially not on just one leg.
“We won’t let you fall,” Oliver reassured her, even as he pressed Gavin’s fingers against her clit. One touch of Gavin’s fingers, driven there by Oliver, and Erin felt the electrical shock of it racing, tingling along her spine.
“Fuck,” she said through gritted teeth when Oliver pressed Gavin’s fingers against her more firmly, moving them against that sensitive bit of flesh rapidly.
“Use your thumb on her clit,” Oliver said. “Keep up that motion.”
Erin felt like a marionette in a tornado, her body jerked roughly as Gavin stroked her clit with his thumb.
“Drive those fingers back in.” Oliver had taken his hand away from Gavin, moving it to grasp her hip, supporting her weight the best he could, given his position on the floor. “Give her three this time.”
Gavin pushed three fingers deep, thrusting in only half a dozen times, his thumb still stroking her clit, before Erin splintered into a million tiny pieces. She doubled over, her elbows landing on the shoulders she’d just been gripping. Oliver, true to his word, didn’t let her fall, his hands now firm on her waist, even as Gavin’s fingers remained buried inside her. He wasn’t using the same force, but he was still moving, drawing her climax out even longer.
Wave after wave of her orgasm crashed against the shore, and just when she thought it was nearly over, Oliver took them all up another level.
