by Marie Carnay
His cock hardened just from the sight of her and Dixon moved to the side, beckoning Harlow into the water. She stepped forward, droplets splattering across her chest, as Foster came into the shower.
It was more than big enough for the three of them. Hell, Foster could have had an orgy in there under the rain shower any time he liked. But three was enough for Dixon.
He didn’t know how this would ever work out; sharing a woman wasn’t his style. But if he could find a way, it would be with Foster. They had been friends for years, business partners, too. If they could make business work, they could make this work.
It was worth a shot.
Harlow tilted her head, eyes closed as the water soaked her hair, and Dixon couldn’t wait anymore. He bent to capture a nipple, drawing the plump little bud into his mouth as Harlow gasped.
Foster stepped up to her other side, diving for her other breast. Both of them sucked and licked, teasing Harlow with their tongues as the warm water poured down. She arched, back bending as her breasts pointed straight at their lips. Her fingers found their heads and she held on, grasping at their hair as she moaned in pleasure.
Dixon looked up, meeting Foster’s stare through the steam. Something passed between them in that moment. A silent agreement of some form. They could do this. Together.
With his tongue darting out to taste her tit, Dixon reached for Harlow’s pussy, fingers sliding over her mound to stroke the plump, wet flesh. Foster joined in, fingers sliding over his to stroke and flick and thrust inside her.
Harlow gasped as they worked her: two men sliding their fingers inside her pussy, two men rubbing her clit as she throbbed in need. Dixon knew what he wanted. Knew what would push them over the edge into something none of them expected, but all craved like a drug.
He rose up, fingers circling Harlow’s clit as Foster thrust two inside her. “Let us fuck you, Harlow. Let us both take you, together.”
She moaned and leaned against him, shuddering as an orgasm rocked her to her core. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him through dripping-wet lashes. “I thought you’d never ask.”
FOSTER
Holy hell. When he’d heard Dixon’s question, Foster didn’t believe it. Sure, they’d ended up both taking her on the balcony that first night, but since then it had been solo dates and one-on-one sex. Never… this.
He slid his hands up her sides as Harlow turned to face Dixon. Her ass stuck out toward Foster and he palmed it, stroking the full globes as Harlow rubbed against him.
“I can go get condoms.” He pulled back, but Harlow whimpered and shook her head.
“No. Not this time.”
Foster swallowed.
“What are you saying?” Dixon toyed with her breasts, rolling her nipples as Harlow twisted to catch Foster’s eye.
“I want you bare. Both of you.”
Fuck.
“What about—”
“I’m on the pill.”
“You’re sure?” Dixon brought her focus back to him and Harlow nodded, water pouring down her body as she arched her back.
“Very.”
“You’re a dream come true, Harlow. Whatever we did, it wasn’t good enough. We don’t deserve—”
She silenced Dixon with a kiss, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other stretching behind her.
Foster took her hand and she tugged him closer. His cock brushed her ass and he groaned.
“I want you to fuck me.” Her words were meant for both of them and Foster reeled. Dixon was right: they didn’t deserve her. But damn it to hell, he’d try to make up for it tonight.
With gentle strokes, he rubbed her ass, hands roving in circles, until he slipped one between her legs. She spread her feet apart, wide enough for his palm to stroke her pussy, and Foster bit back a moan. He’d never last inside her.
Dixon took her by the face, kissing her lips as Foster thrust two fingers inside her pussy. Coating himself in her cream he pulled back, circling the tight ring of her ass before pressing. Gentle at first, then harder and harder until—pop—his finger slipped inside. Jesus.
Harlow convulsed around him, waves of pleasure hitting her from the smallest of movements. She broke the kiss with Dixon to lean back against Foster’s chest. “I won’t break, Foster. I can handle your cock.”
Dixon swore and before Foster could agree, his partner picked her up, hands beneath her thighs. He entered her from the front, stretching her pussy with his length, and Foster eased a second finger past her puckered ring. With the shower water washing over them all, he pulled back and thrust, fingers sliding along the length of Dixon’s cock, Harlow’s body the only separation between them.
“Christ, Foster. I’m never going to last.”
Foster spread his fingers, widening her forbidden channel for his heft. Harlow cried out, moans of pleasure and pain mixed together. “We can stop.”
“No!” She screamed it, adamant in her need.
Foster smiled and withdrew his fingers, sliding free from her ass as Dixon thrust. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, coating his cock in slippery soap before coming back to Harlow.
With his hands beneath her thighs, gripping her body and helping support her weight, Foster claimed her, thrusting inside the only place he’d never been, filling her up like Dixon filled her pussy.
His cock stuffed her, and she moaned, reaching back to claim his lips as his thighs brushed against her ass.
HARLOW
Everything burned. Pleasure, pain, a crush of feelings that threatened to overwhelm her.
Dixon and Foster filled her up, stretched her to the limit, and only gave her more. Every inch of their cocks were deep inside her and she hung between them, suspended by their strength, dangling on the edge of ecstasy.
It was too much and not enough and Harlow rolled against their chests, begging for them to move, to ruin her for anyone else.
Foster kissed her back, Dixon captured her lips, and with a gentle rock and roll, they began to fuck her. Slow at first, an ebb and flow like a receding tide. But as they fell into rhythm, both men increased the pressure, thrusting harder, gripping her thighs with bruising strength, taking her on a ride she would never forget.
An orgasm came out of nowhere, hitting so hard all Harlow could do was scream. The water captured her voice, sending it in a torrent down her body as she came around their shafts.
Foster grunted behind her, his head pressed tight into her shoulder and he came, hot and thick. Harlow groaned, another orgasm rising up and obliterating her senses. Her muscles clamped around Dixon and he came inside her pussy, thrusting deep as his cock throbbed and released.
It was beyond sex, beyond sin, and hedonism and base desires.
The way the three of them took and gave in an endless circle of passion…
Harlow sagged against Dixon, unable to put a name to the overwhelming emotions surging inside her. Dixon kissed her temple, Foster stroked her back, and the three of them stood there, coming back to earth as the shower began to cool.
Chapter 17
HARLOW
Waking up in a king-sized bed with Foster’s arm thrown over her middle and Dixon’s thigh warming up her side was heaven. Harlow blinked herself awake, reveling in the moment. They were both there, beside her, content and stress-free.
No worries, no guilt. She didn’t wonder whether Foster hated her for sleeping with Dixon or whether Dixon would push her away for falling for Foster. Last night changed everything. They were better together than apart. Harlow knew it.
For the first time, she could see how Maddie fell in love with two men. Sure, there was some lingering competition and boyish jabs, but Foster and Dixon accepted her and her conflicting emotions.
In the bedroom, the shower, anywhere they fell into each other’s arms, all the what-ifs disappeared. It was just bodies and sweat and sex and…
Love.
I’m in love with them both. Harlow sat up, the sheet falling off her body as she twisted in bed to look at th
em. She couldn’t imagine going back to life before. Without Foster and his sweet vulnerability and Dixon’s take-charge attitude, she’d be lost.
Harlow reached out, one hand running up the back of Foster’s leg, the other swirling over Dixon’s chest. I love you. She smiled as both men groaned.
Dixon’s cock swelled as she stroked his skin, rising up off his thigh, begging her to taste. She leaned over, licking once across his velvet head before taking him inside her mouth.
“Christ, woman. You know how to wake a man up.” Dixon propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she sucked him off.
Up and down Harlow bobbed, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked and hummed. Foster rolled over, eyes still groggy but dick as hard as Dixon’s. Harlow reached for it, circling his shaft with a loose grip.
“Whatever we did to deserve this, I’ll gladly do it again if this can be our morning routine.”
Harlow smiled around Dixon’s cock, his shaft filling her mouth as she stroked Foster. Dixon fell back on the mattress and Harlow switched men. Her swollen lips stretched to fit Foster’s thicker size as she stroked Dixon’s spit-soaked shaft with her hand.
Back and forth she worked them, bringing one right to the edge before pulling back and moving to the other. Foster and Dixon watched her, eyes never leaving her naked body, hands occasionally reaching out to stroke a breast or fondle a nipple.
Harlow might not have spoken the words, but she knew they felt it. Her love for them poured from her lips and tongue, coated their shafts with every pump of her hands. Foster groaned, his hand reaching to hold her head still and he came, pumping his release hot and fast into her throat.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
Harlow smiled and let Foster go before moving back to Dixon. Without a word, she took him in her mouth, working him up and down, adding her hand to bring him over the edge mere moments after Foster.
He came hard, a thick jet of cum splashing against her throat. Perfect.
As she came up for air, the bedside table started to buzz and beep. My phone. Harlow frowned and tried to ignore it, moaning as Foster rose up and nuzzled her breasts.
“It’s only fair we return the favor.” He reached down between her legs to the molten core of her, dripping wet and ready to get off.
Dixon came up behind, knees sliding around her hips, chest pressing into her back. He reached around her front, fondling her breasts as Foster worked her clit.
Her phone rang again and Harlow jumped.
“It can wait. You’re so close, babe.”
She bit her lip, trying to enjoy it, to listen to Foster’s words while he took her right over the edge.
The phone rang again.
“I should get—” Dixon cut her off with a hand on her chin and his tongue in her mouth. They weren’t letting her go. Not until they gave her what she needed.
Dixon pulled her up, resting her ass on his thighs, and Foster dove between her legs, lapping at her clit and sucking with laser precision.
“That’s it. Come for us. Let us show you how grateful we are that you’re here.” Dixon kissed her again, his fingers rolling her nipples around and around, and Harlow came. Hot and hard, her orgasm shook her, the burst of pleasure silencing the phone as it rang again.
Before Foster could even lean back, Harlow was scrabbling off the bed, reaching for her phone as her pussy still spasmed and throbbed. Eight missed calls. All from work.
“Shit. It’s work.”
She swiped open her phone as a text from Leanne popped up.
Get your ass over here, pronto. Bill’s on the warpath.
Harlow jumped off the bed and fired off a reply.
Be there in 30.
She tossed her phone in her purse and looked around for her clothes. Black pants and paint-stained T-shirt weren’t office attire, but from the number of calls and Leanne’s frantic text, Harlow didn’t have a choice.
“Where are you going?”
“Work. There’s a crisis.”
“Let someone else handle it.” Dixon lounged on the bed, not understanding her sense of urgency.
“I can’t. Leanne texted. It’s got to be about the project we’re working on together. If something’s gone wrong and Bill’s mad—”
“From what you’ve told me about him, your boss sounds like a dickwad with an inferiority complex. Tell him to go to hell.”
Harlow glared at Dixon as she hopped into her underwear and pants. Her lady bits stung, but she ignored the reminder of their amazing night. She didn’t have time to think about sex.
That was the problem with dating at all. As soon as she fell for someone, work reared its ugly head. The guy never understood.
“If you sold us Crane Matchmaking, you could quit that job. You’d never have to jump out of bed for your boss again.”
Harlow froze. “I thought you dropped that.”
Dixon played coy, a smirk about to break free. “Just thought I’d try.”
“Don’t.”
Foster sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Ignore him, Harlow. He’s just being an ass. He hasn’t had a boss in so long, he doesn’t remember what it’s like.”
She snapped her bra into place and tugged on her shirt before responding. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go.”
“Come back after work. We can have dinner.”
Harlow heard the hope and hesitation in Foster’s voice, but she didn’t have time to be gentle. “I can’t. I’ll probably be pulling an all-nighter. Whatever’s going on is my fault. I’ve been out with the two of you, ignoring my job, the matchmaking business, everything.”
She smoothed her hair off her face, twisting it up into a messy bun as the criticisms flew through her head. Here she’d been, screwing not one, but two amazing guys, all while Leanne was left at work to pick up her slack. She wasn’t just a terrible employee, she was a terrible friend.
“Harlow, whatever it is, it will all work out.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who dropped the ball.” She fell to the floor, ignoring Foster’s bare feet, and dragged her shoes out from under the bed.
She shoved her feet into them and raced toward the door, not even stopping to look in the mirror. She paused in the hall. “When things calm down, I’ll call you. I just can’t guarantee when that will be.”
Foster nodded. She could see the hurt there, but she didn’t have time to deal. Leanne needed her.
Dixon sat up on the edge of the bed. “We’ll be waiting.”
Harlow flashed him a tight smile before rushing to the front door.
Chapter 18
HARLOW
Harlow flopped onto her chair, spinning around and turning on her computer before she’d even tucked her purse beneath the desk. A stack of papers sat in front of her, red slash marks covering the entire first page.
She picked up the pile with a frown. From the number of comments and marks, it was obvious: Bill hated her ideas. He might as well have told her to start over.
The sound of heavy footsteps made her cringe. Bill’s sweater-clad forearms appeared over the edge of her cubicle and Harlow steeled herself.
“So you finally decided to show up. Nice to know you still work here, Harlow.”
“I’m sorry, Bill. I’ve had a lot going on at home lately, I know it’s not—”
“I don’t care if your house burned down, your car stalled out, and your cat died. This project takes top priority.”
Harlow shifted in her seat, anger rising to eclipse her usual begrudging acceptance. “I don’t have a cat. Or a car.” She glanced up in time to catch an annoyed look cross her boss’s face.
“Whatever it is that’s the problem, get rid of it.” He pointed at the stack of papers. “This isn’t the type of work I expect from you. If this is the best you can do—”
“It’s not.” That much was true. She hadn’t been giving the project her all. Instead, she’d been relying on Leanne to bear the brunt of it all while she gallivanted thr
ough the countryside and had more orgasms than she could count. “I’m sorry, Bill.”
“You should be. If this keeps up, I’ll have to reevaluate your position here.”
Harlow’s temper flared. “Over one project? I’ve worked here five years!” She thought about all the late nights and weekends she devoted to this job. The canceled dates and ruined plans. How she’d never asked for a raise or a promotion.
Harlow stared up at Bill, the fleck of chocolate on his cheek driving her mad. The man had no basis to call her loyalty into question. Not over one project.
“Ordinarily, I would cut you some slack, but this—”
Harlow cut him off. “You’ve never cut me any slack, and you know it. The only coder around here you cut slack is Steve. That man is a walking sexual harassment case and never once has he even been reprimanded. But I’m the problem?”
He pointed at the marked-up pages. “Today you are.”
Harlow fumed. “What is it about the design you don’t like? I based it off our conversations and the client’s request.”
Bill looked down on her like a father would an indulgent child. “Harlow. We provide custom-tailored storefronts. Not,” he waved at the papers, “off-the-shelf products. Those specs would give the client nothing more than a generic store that could be repeated a million different times.”
The papers sat on her desk, mocking her, and Harlow forced herself to pick them up and flip through them. Bill had a point. She’d pulled the stock software and used it as the framework for the store, but she’d been sidetracked. Otherwise occupied.
She hadn’t given it her best effort. If she really looked, Bill was right. It wasn’t good enough. Not for her.
