Let it Snow

by Suzan Butler, Emily Ryan-Davis, Cari Quinn, Vivienne Westlake, Sadie Haller, Holley Trent

  Des slid back, his chin damp and his gorgeous sea-colored eyes unreadable. He rose and undid his jeans. He wore no boxers, and just a glimpse of his golden skin, so hard and thick, elicited her muffled cry. Muffled because Cole’s mouth was back on hers, his tongue thrusting deep while he pressed his hand between her legs, fingering her with a speed that made her dizzy.

  “Ah, darling, you’re soaked for us. Come. Just come, baby.”

  She was so close already from Des that it didn’t take long at all. As soon as two of Cole’s long fingers pumped into her, she exploded. She buried her face between his shoulder and neck while she rode out the climax, both relieved and tense all over again.

  Why wouldn’t Des ever take her there himself?

  She zeroed in on the man in question, leaning against his desk, stroking his cock in long, even pulls. He’d obviously liked the show. Heavy lidded, surly mouthed, he punched her in the chest with one glance and knocked her right on her ass.

  He crooked his finger. “C’mere.”

  She didn’t look at Cole. Couldn’t. She moved toward Des like a zombie, trapped in his web though he didn’t speak. He caressed her cheek and rubbed his thumb under her eye, his lips softening into a fleeting smile. Then he reached behind her and freed her wrists. He draped the garland around her neck before he pushed her jacket down to her elbows. The pose slightly pulled back her arms.

  “I like that.” He traced her shoulders. “You’re restrained, just enough to make you remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  He nudged her down to her knees, directing his cock between her lips. “Me.”

  This time she didn’t hesitate. If he wouldn’t have sex with her—though she didn’t know why—at least she could enjoy this much of him. She kept her eyes on his as her lips engulfed his length, as that first erotic taste of him hit her taste buds. He didn’t shove himself deeper, just waited for her to take him. She swirled her tongue around the wide, swollen head before more of his arousal flowed out to help ease his passage into her throat.

  As off-balance as she felt with her arms behind her, she held the stance, concentrating on taking him deeper without her hands. With just her eyes on his to tell him when to push her for more and when to retreat. She moaned around him, the subtle pulse in his length a promise of things to come.

  He leaned back on his desk, spreading his body out for her perusal though she couldn’t see it through all those damn layers of clothes. But she could see the pleasure contorting his features, shaping them into something even more beautiful as his throat muscles rippled and sweat dotted his temples.

  He’d been led to the edge by her, not Cole. Not some other random woman who never stumbled or stuttered when he got too close.

  She was sure he’d urge her back, but when he did, it wasn’t for the reason she thought. Cole had taken his place beside him and now indicated his own impatient cock with a wave of his fingers and a questioning smile. She swallowed the frustration that this moment with Des wasn’t theirs alone and shifted on her knees to offer the same treatment to Cole’s needy erection.

  Soon she wasn’t thinking about anything but getting him off, about tasting more of that hot moisture that hit her tongue every time he forcefully slid home. He wasn’t gentle with her but she didn’t care. She didn’t want that. Right now she ached to be used, to use them the same way. To forget everything that had ever happened—would ever happen—outside these four walls.

  Des moved closer to Cole and together they fed her their cocks, alternating who she had in her mouth. Even with her eyes closed she knew the difference. Cole was longer, his movements sharper. Des stretched her cheeks and made her gasp from his slow, languid strokes. He filled her, burning away any memory of anyone that had come before. Relentless in his pursuit of her throat, of taking her further than she’d ever gone before.

  He plunged into her and held, his hips so close to her face, his grip on her hair punishing her. Freeing her. And buried down deep he came, releasing into her in an endless stream she fought to contain.

  Too soon Cole dragged him back and inserted himself inside her well-used mouth, barely getting off a couple strokes before he slickened the same path that Des had. He groaned and jerked her down, holding her still while her hollowed cheeks milked him.

  Doing this with them was so dirty, so far beyond any experiences she’d had before. She’d file them away in her mind and take them out when she was old and gray and wanted to remember she’d once had a wild past. Hopefully by then she’d be married with a family, and thoughts of these nights with Des and Cole would just be a naughty part of her history.

  It was too much to hope for that Des might still be in her life then. Experiences like this didn’t lead to lifetime commitment. They led to…more experiences like this. With garland and ornament clips and candy canes. Ho-ho-ho.

  She’d just have to make her peace with that and enjoy every minute they shared as much as possible.

  Inhaling harshly, Cole removed himself from between her lips then let out an awed laugh. “Damn, you’re good.” He lowered his satisfied gaze to where she pressed her saturated thighs together to keep from squirming. “I think Wendy’s earned a bonus this Christmas. Don’t you agree, Des?”

  Chapter Five

  Des eyed the pouty lips of Wendy’s pussy revealed by her crotchless teddy as he twirled the peppermint stick. Oh, what he could do to her in that getup.

  What he would do.

  He gripped her elbow and helped her to her feet, then escorted her around the desk to his chair. She sat, still looking shell-shocked, and he bent to lay a soft kiss on her lips. He could taste both of them there, him and Cole, along with a hint of mint. As irrational as it was, he wanted to kiss her until Cole’s flavor disappeared, until he was the only one he detected on her lips. “Legs up on the arms.”

  Wendy snapped into action, doing as he asked. She glanced down at herself in wonderment at how fully she was opened to them and up at him with a half-smile that lit her amber eyes. “Your chair is really comfy.”

  He laughed and pulled the garland off of her neck before winding it around her legs and the chair arms. Luckily it was extra-long and stretched across her belly like a glittery belt. “You look good in it.” He tugged her breasts over the scalloped top of her teddy. Her nipples were rosy pink, as flushed as her cheeks. God, it turned him on when she blushed. “You’re incredibly gorgeous.”

  Rather than answer, she rocked her hips. Just that movement sent wetness trickling down her slit and he groaned, mesmerized by the sight. He knew just how good she’d taste too.

  She shocked the hell out of him by cupping her breasts in offering as she shifted to encompass Cole with her gaze. “A girl has rights you know.” Her voice was as airy as a caress. “I was promised a Christmas bonus and I’ll go to my union rep if I don’t get it.” Another rock of her hips. “Now.”

  Smiling, he leaned down, making her lean up for his mouth. Their teeth bumped in their urgency, but when her tongue tangled with his, he groaned his delight. He’d happily die right there.

  He lifted the candy to her and she sucked on the tip, looking straight at him. His balls pulsed with the memory of exactly how good that felt and he shook his head. She was torturing him intentionally. In another second she’d be deep throating a candy cane, for fuck’s sake.

  Cole moved closer, reminding Des of his presence. Not that he’d forgotten he was there exactly, he’d just sort of blocked him out. His best friend sank his finger into her pussy and growled in appreciation. “Ready to ride, baby?”

  Though Cole spoke to Wendy, he glanced back at Des. Silently questioning.

  She dragged her tongue up the underside of the cane, her lips faintly tinged red. “You know I am.”

  Des took the candy stick from her and acknowledged her whine with a laugh. Then he slipped it in his own mouth, sliding it up and down before he knelt between her parted legs. She was so pink and wet, so swolle
n with longing. He wanted her more than he wanted to breathe. But rather than sliding his already insistent cock into that tight, waiting sheath, he circled the candy cane over her cleft while she gasped.

  “It burns a little,” she whispered, but from the way she was writhing, she didn’t seem to mind.

  He ran his tongue around her where the candy met her skin, worrying her opening with his tongue, flicking teasingly as she grew wetter. She drove both hands into his hair, yanking him down to her groin. Unabashedly asking for what she craved. He nuzzled her, sucking her clit, occasionally licking the candy. Pressing his cool tongue against her heated flesh.

  Her moan announced that Cole had joined in. He filled his hands with her breasts, squeezing them so roughly that her nipples reddened and stood out like hard little knobs. When her cries crescendoed, Cole kissed her hard, his tongue wetly sliding in and out just like Des worked her quivering pussy.

  Her pants sliced through the din of noise in his ears. Somehow he heard his name, though Cole managed to stifle most of her cries. In no time at all she was coming against Des’s lips, pulsing her release into his waiting mouth.

  Jesus, she was delectable. He needed more. He slipped his tongue in deeper, thrusting through her incessant aftershocks. She was even sweeter now, chilly and hot both, and her spasms wrenched a groan from him that reverberated all the way through his newly rigid cock.

  He didn’t move away until she ceased moving entirely. Her sexy body in motion was a lovely thing, and it was just as beautiful still. Her huge eyes were half-closed, and a smug smile lifted the corners of her mouth as Cole tweaked her nipple and whispered in her ear.

  His best friend stepped away and dressed quickly, throwing a jaunty wave over his shoulder on his way out. “Best Monday ever.”

  Des looked back at her as she giggled. “Y’all are crazy.”

  “And there goes the southern fucking accent.” With a mock groan, he set aside the candy cane—he intended to enjoy eating every damn bit of it later—and clutched his chest. “All I gotta hear is one more Des in that satisfied, I just came voice and I swear I’ll ruin my goddamn rug.”

  She inched her butt forward, loosening her flimsy bonds on the arms of the chair and cupped his face in her hands. “Des,” she whispered tenderly.

  The amusement on her face vanished as he knelt like a statue, not saying a word. Her palms felt like heaven on his stubbled cheeks and he longed to reach up for them, to hold them there while he moved forward and surged into her sweet body.

  Where he belonged.

  Screw the ethics that kept him rooted in place as if nails in his heels pinned him to the floor. Hell, he was fooling himself anyway, wasn’t he? Sex acts still counted as sex. Still could be perceived as taking advantage. He was no better than a guy like Gerald. Worse even, because he’d tried to dominate Wendy instead of allowing her to decide how far she wanted to go. Offering her an escape wasn’t the same as making sure she didn’t need one.

  He swallowed the grit in his throat and shut his eyes to avoid the look in hers. It was the coward’s way out, and he took it gratefully. “Let me give you a ride home tonight,” he said instead of everything else he wanted to.

  Already she was pulling back. “I can walk.“

  “Wendy. I’m giving you a ride home.”

  His eyes opened as she dropped her hands in her lap. “Okay.”

  ****

  For the next couple of weeks, Wendy learned the true meaning of mandatory overtime. She also got up and close and personal with the terms rate of return, high performance and I’ve been fucked so hard I can barely walk.

  On one hand, she was happier—and more sexually satisfied—than she’d ever been. On the other, she was so conflicted and confused she didn’t know what to do.

  Her life had turned into a frigging Dickens novel, assuming Dickens had ever let his freak flag fly. Lately she’d hoisted hers into the stratosphere. She still couldn’t decide if she was happy she’d lost so many of her inhibitions or if she was concerned that she was changing into a person she wouldn’t recognize afterward.

  As great as everything was going, as happily boneless as she felt after every one of her “sessions” with Cole and Des behind closed doors, she couldn’t deny the thing that was bugging her. Well, there were several, but one was worse than the rest.

  Des refused to have sex with her.

  He did everything but. He’d explored her body so thoroughly she figured he could play connect the dots from memory with her freckles. He gleefully went down on her and eagerly came in her mouth. Teased her with all manner of interesting implements from candy to sex toys to a cylindrical ornament from the tree that now held a place of honor in his top drawer.

  She even asked him to fuck Cole, just in case he had some sort of penetration aversion. He’d done so without complaint. He was just averse to her.

  As the days passed, the boys got bolder about calling her into their offices while Van and sometimes even clients were in the reception area. They seemed to delight in making her chew through her lip to keep from crying out while Cole pounded into her from behind and Des licked them both from below. Or other wickedly inventive things.

  And Van was starting to pay attention. She’d called Wendy out for being scatterbrained more than once and seemed entirely too curious about why she was spending so much time with the guys in private. The time she’d emerged from Cole’s office with a fresh run in her pantyhose and her high heel unstrapped hadn’t helped matters.

  Part of Wendy wondered if Van was jealous. If she knew what was going on because she’d experienced it herself—or wanted to.

  “Are you really that worried about her?” Des’s mouth skated up the side of Wendy’s neck to her ear. They were alone in Des’s office, and all she wanted was him inside her. Finally. “She won’t interfere with us. Van’s a long-term, loyal employee.”

  The door opened. Van and Cole entered, both of them wearing wide grins. Wendy startled and tried to step away, but Des slid his fingers down the placket of her blouse, flicking open the buttons. “You trust us, don’t you?”

  Right then she didn’t trust anything. But she didn’t move.

  Once she was down to her bra, he popped open the clasp and the cups fell away. He palmed one of her breasts, rubbing his cock in circles against her ass while she fought to look anywhere but at Van. What must her friend think?

  Cole shut the door and locked them in together. Both men were already breathing hard. And Van…

  Wendy didn’t dare look up to see what her friend was doing.

  “Isn’t her body beautiful?” Des thumbed Wendy’s nipples until they beaded. Her clit swelled at his rough cadence. At knowing she was being watched and caressed by the man she cared about so much. “I’ll let one of you have her sweet pussy. Who will it be, Ms. Stanton?”

  “You,” Wendy gasped, jerking up in bed. “You, dammit.”

  She rubbed her eyes and chanted a silent thank you that she was alone. Van was a good friend, but there were boundaries she had no interest in crossing. Sex with a woman—or any of its variations—was one of them.

  Though she didn’t doubt one bit that the guys would love to see their secretaries together. At least they’d never mentioned it.

  Maybe she should. Even if she couldn’t address the whole Des not fucking her thing, she could tell them about the underlying tension with Van. If they’d slept with Van too, she’d end their affair effective immediately. She wasn’t some office plaything, despite how it might seem.

  It wasn’t as if she was any closer to actually going out with Des either. All she’d gotten were a few laughs and a lot of orgasms.

  Admittedly, not an altogether bad deal.

  She went to work that day full of purpose. It was the Friday before Christmas and she figured it was the right time to call a halt to their fuckstrative relationship. The holiday season was about fun and celebrating, but it would soon be January and she wan
ted to kick the year off on the right foot. Not on her knees or her belly.

  Sure you do.

  She kept busy throughout the morning, waiting until Van went out to lunch to march into the conference room where Des and Cole were poring over a map. At first she thought they were mapping some hot new property up for sale, but nope, they were looking at Maine. Maine?

  “I’ve heard this new lodge has some of the best skiing in the area.” Cole jabbed the map. “Dude, seriously, just come. Mom even bought that stupid Tofurky for you. And I hate fuckin’ Tofurky. Tastes like ass.”

  “You’re a vegan?” she asked from the doorway, biting her lip as both men glanced her way. This was yet another reason she wasn’t comfortable being their lover. The lines at work blurred. They might be easygoing bosses, but they still signed her checks. “Sorry to interrupt,” she muttered.

  “You didn’t.” Des rose as he always did when she entered the room. “Van at lunch?” When she nodded, he held out his arm, inviting her closer.

  She couldn’t help stepping into that hug any more than she could resist sniffing the collar of his shirt. He smelled like soap and spice, sans aftershave since he was rocking full scruff. Frigging hot.

  “To answer your question,” he tugged on her braid, “yes, I’m a vegan. Most of the time, minus a few occasional lapses. Have been since high school when Johnny went out to hunt and came back with a doe on the roof of the car. Meat lost a lot of its appeal after that.”

  Cole grinned. “But you’ll notice he still wears his Italian leather shoes.”

  Des shrugged. “A man’s gotta have some vices.” He reached down to pat her on the ass. “I do have my favorites, I’ll admit.”

  “Who’s Johnny?” she asked to avoid commenting on his favorite vices. She wanted to make sure they set the right tone for a serious discussion.

  Something flitted across his expression. “The man who raised me.”

  She wanted to ask more, almost did, but Cole cleared his throat. “Wen, convince him he needs to head north with me this weekend. What else is his sorry ass going to do here alone? Scratch his balls to the tune of “White Christmas”?”