Wagering On Wendy (A MFM Ménage Romance) (Playing For Love Book 4)
Page 7
Her excitement seems to drain away. “They fired me,” she says, with a heavy sigh. “I called Bill Anderson after talking to the partners. They’ve set up a budget for the Staten Island project, but it’s going to be tight, and it really brought home to me what a risk I’m taking. I’m trying not to freak out.”
I cover her hand with mine. Asher and I were afraid this might happen. “You can still change your mind,” my friend says promptly from the back seat. “Your track record is excellent. You’ll find another job in a second.”
Wendy swivels in her seat and gives him an irritated look. “What’s with you?” she asks crossly. “Are you going to tell me why you are so freaked out by Thorne?”
“I’m not freaked out by him,” Asher replies, his expression hard. “I loathe the man.”
“Why?” she repeats, her voice gentle. “What happened, Asher?”
She asked that same question earlier today, and Asher had blown her off with a non-answer. He ducks the question again, shaking his head. “That’s a topic for another time,” he replies evasively.
She exhales in a huff. “Fine, don’t tell me.” I pull into the underground garage of the building that houses our gym, and she jumps out before one of us can open the door for her. “Just tell me this. You think Thorne’s dangerous, right? Why are you so certain I’ll be his target? Why not either of you? Bill Anderson’s going to be suspicious if something happens to me. If Thorne has any sense, his focus will be on you, not me. After all, I’m bound to fail without your help.”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” I tell her. “You’re perfectly capable of pulling this off.”
“Oh come on, Hudson,” she scoffs. “I’m way out of my league here. I don’t know anything about construction.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Asher gives her an intense, probing look. “It doesn’t suit you. You’re a fighter, Wendy. Don’t ever pretend to be anything else. You’ll take on this challenge, the way you’ve taken on every other challenge that life has thrown at you. And you’ll win, the way you always do.”
“Do I always win?” Her voice is so low I barely hear her. “It doesn’t always feel like it.”
I smile widely. “In that case,” I tell her, “a couple of hours in the ring is exactly what you need.”
As soon as we walk into the gym, Dimitri, the guy who runs the place, comes up to us, giving Wendy a speculative look. “I reserved a ring for you like you asked,” he says to Asher. “You learning how to box?” he asks Wendy.
She nods. “Hudson and Asher have volunteered to teach me,” she says with a wicked smile. “Are they any good?”
“Hey,” I say indignantly. “I resent that.”
Dimitri laughs. “I like you,” he says to Wendy. “These two are too used to having it easy. It’s time they started working for it.” He winks at her. “They’re good enough for the basics, but if you want a real expert, you come and find me, okay?”
“Dimitri, stop flirting with our girl.” He’s just pulling our leg, and Asher and I have no cause to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop the surge of possessiveness I feel.
Wendy raises an eyebrow at my words, but she doesn’t say anything. The three of us step into the corner ring, and she puts her gloves on. I help her with the strap on her right boxing glove; Asher steps close to help her with her left.
Her breathing catches. “I can do that,” she says, her voice shaky.
“Or you could let us.” Asher trails his fingers up her forearm. Her skin breaks out into goosebumps as he touches her, and my groin tightens almost painfully. All I want to do is tear off her clothes and feast on her. I want to palm her breasts and suck her perky nipples. I want to hear her moan, and when she’s writhing with need, begging for our dicks, I want to plunge my cock into her sweet pussy.
Unfortunately for my cock, we’re in a public gym, and we promised her we’d show her the basics. Once again, I struggle to clear my head, and Asher gives me an amused look. “Hudson’s mind isn’t on boxing at the moment,” he says mockingly. “While he’s pulling himself together, why don’t I show you the basics? Let’s start with your stance.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?” she asks, then she catches sight of my dick tenting my shorts, and her cheeks flush a fiery red. “Oh.”
“Part your legs,” Asher instructs Wendy with a grin.
Wendy’s lips twitch. “I think you should buy me dinner first,” she quips.
I chuckle. “He’s talking about your boxing stance and you know it,” I accuse her. “Now, pay attention.”
She’s a quick student. In less than ten minutes, she has the stance and the foot movement down. “Don’t cross your feet,” I tell her with a grin. “Always keep them shoulder-width apart. Knees slightly bent.”
“I never realized how dirty boxing could be,” she jokes, but she replicates the movement we’re showing her perfectly. “Can I punch now?” she asks, swinging her gloves in a move that leaves her face completely exposed. “Pow.”
“Pow?” Asher asks, laughing at her pleased expression. “Don’t leave yourself open,” he says, correcting her hand placement, “and you should probably lose the sound effects.”
“So boring.”
We’re hot and sweaty by the time we’re done. Wendy’s shirt is plastered to her body, and I have a hard time tearing my gaze away from her. Asher’s just as affected. “Dinner?” I ask, my voice rough with need. “At my place?”
She swallows. “Just dinner?”
“It’s your call, Wendy,” Asher replies quietly. “Hudson makes a mean stir-fry, and his refrigerator is always stocked with cold beer.”
“And if we sleep together,” she asks softly. “What happens tomorrow?”
I have no desire to lie to Wendy. Even if we weren’t going to be working together, it’s not my style. “I was married once,” I reply. “I’m not interested in a relationship. When Asher and I share women, it’s always casual.” I take a deep breath. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time on the Staten Island project. I’m an adult; I can handle the situation. But if it’s going to complicate things for you, we shouldn’t do this.”
“I don’t date multiple women at once,” Asher elaborates. “I don’t make any promises. But while we’re together, it’s just you.” His voice lowers. “In or out?”
She tilts her chin up and surveys us for a long moment. Finally, she breaks the silence. “In.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and offer her my arm. “Let’s go.”
13
Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
Omar Khayyam
Wendy:
We get to Hudson’s penthouse condo in a hurry. As soon as we’re through the door, Hudson and Asher are on me, kissing, stroking, and touching me. Their mouths are demanding, their hands possessive.
Desire pools in my body. I tremble between them, caught in desperate lust. I wanted them at Residence, and I want them now.
Except I’ve spent the last hour and a half in a boxing ring. I’m sweaty, and not in a sexy way. “Bathroom,” I pant. “I need to shower.”
Hudson growls in frustration but pulls away. “This way.” He grabs my hand and tugs me down a short corridor, Asher bringing up the rear, his eyes glued to my ass.
I add a sashay to my strut when I notice his gaze. Judging from the grin that forms at the corner of his lips, Asher appreciates the gesture.
The room we enter is obviously a guest bedroom. The bed is made, and there are no photos or personal touches anywhere. “There’s a bathroom through that door,” Hudson says. He pauses for an instant. “If you’d like, Asher and I can get started on the stir-fry while you shower.”
Is that what I’d like? A moment to gather my thoughts, to take stock and ask myself if I’m prepared for this?
Not tonight. Tonight I want to be reckless with abandon, wild with passion.
“Or you could join me.” I hold their g
“You’re beautiful.” Asher’s voice is hoarse.
My heartbeat quickens at the raw hunger in their eyes. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I retort.
Hudson stalks toward me. His fingertips swirl on my skin and caress the curve of my shoulder, before sliding down to cup my ass. Asher moves in front of me. His hot gaze moves slowly down my body before his thumbs caress my nipples.
I stop breathing.
He brushes against my aching peaks once more, and I moan and arch my back into Hudson’s broad and powerful chest. This is crazy. So crazy. I want more.
I’m naked, and they’re fully clothed, and this imbalance must be corrected before we step into the shower. I need to feel them, skin against skin. Grabbing the hem of Asher’s t-shirt, I yank it above his head, inhaling sharply as his sculpted chest comes into view. He smirks at my expression. “Like what you see, Wendy?”
Hell yes. A sprinkling of chest hair covers the rock hard muscles, and my gaze follows the happy trail lower and lower. His cock is tenting in his gym pants. Unable to help myself, I reach out and graze my hand against that thick length, rubbing as he hardens at my touch.
He groans, his head thrown back.
I marvel at that sound. Asher Doyle is always in control, always calm, always composed. Now, he looks like he’s unraveling with lust. Because of me. Because I touched him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hudson’s t-shirt fly across the room. His pants follow. “Shower,” he says harshly. “Now.”
We move to the bathroom, bodies entwined and touching. I’m awash in lust, though the magnificence of Hudson’s shower jerks me out of my pleasure-befuddled trance for a moment.
“Wow,” I gape, taking in the jets embedded on three sides of the stall. I do well for myself as a divorce lawyer—well, I did until I got fired today—but this is a completely different level. This is billionaire territory. “This is a guest bathroom? What does yours look like? Is your tub made of solid gold?”
Hudson’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I’ve stumbled on another forbidden topic. But before I have time to wonder exactly what caused the change in his expression, Asher flicks a switch, and the jets come to life.
The water pulses against my naked skin, but I don’t have time to compose an ode to high pressure shower heads. Asher moves behind me, his thick cock bobbing in a way that has me licking my lips, aching to taste him. He pours some shampoo into his palm and gently massages it into my hair.
In front of me, Hudson picks up a bar of soap and teases my nipples with it, making me moan with pleasure. I wrap my arms around his body, and press my breasts into his chest, tilting my head up for a kiss.
Hudson’s mouth covers mine hungrily. He trails his hand down my body, outlining the curve of my breasts with a light, teasing touch. Before I can beg for more, he moves to the cleft between my legs. I make a sound of need as his fingers part my lips, flicking at my clitoris.
I’m soaked. When Hudson touches me, his eyes gleam. “So wet,” he says with a cocky grin. He plunges two fingers into my pussy, and for an instant, I lose the ability to think.
“So hard,” I retort when I can form words again. I close my fist around his fat cock and slowly slide my hand up his length. He clenches his eyes shut, his face taut with desire.
“So much fucking conversation.” Asher’s voice breathes into my ear. “Part your legs wider for me, Wendy, and give me your hands.”
I follow his instructions. Asher holds my wrists behind my back with one hand, and he thrusts the other between my legs. His fingers join Hudson’s as they both explore my aching pussy, caressing my lips and teasing my nub until I’m writhing between their bodies, mindless with pleasure.
Hudson’s expression is hot with desire as he gets on his knees in front of me. He trails slow kisses up my thighs. I hold my breath, my insides twisting in anticipation of the moment when his mouth meets my core. When his tongue touches my cleft, I gasp and spread my legs wider. “Please,” I beg, desperate for more contact, more pressure.
My head falls back against Asher’s broad shoulder. “Do you like that?” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. He cups my breasts and pinches my nipples, and I gasp once again in pleasure. “Do you like what we’re doing to you?”
Hudson’s tongue flicks my clitoris. His fingers pump in and out of my slick channel as he devours my pussy.
Hot water rains down on us; I barely notice. I’m moaning almost continuously, overloaded by sensation. It’s almost too much to bear—Asher tugging and pulling at my nipples, kneading them between his thumb and forefinger, Hudson’s mouth feasting on me, his thick cock erect with his desire—this is better than anything I could have imagined.
They are relentless, and I feel my orgasm start to build. My insides tighten and clench. My body stiffens as my release approaches, and then as Hudson presses down on my clitoris with the tip of his tongue, I explode.
That’s only the beginning.
They towel me off and push me back onto the bed. Asher parts my legs and bends my knees, positioning himself in the space between them. His lips are on mine, pressing my mouth open and capturing my tongue with his.
Hudson moves to my side. He squeezes my breast and lowers his mouth over my nipple. He nibbles and sucks the pebble-hard nub. I grab the silky-soft sheets as a shiver wracks my body.
“Please,” I groan. I reach for Hudson’s thick cock and slide my hand along his length. I take Asher’s hard dick in my other hand and luxuriate in the feeling of holding both these men in the palm of my hand.
Asher’s demanding lips caress mine. I pump their hard cocks, hearing their moans of need, watching their faces contort with lust, loving the way their cocks grow even harder as I touch them.
This is better than my wildest fantasies.
“Enough.” Asher’s voice is low and smooth. He straddles my chest, and I open my mouth gladly, eager to taste him. His eyes burn into me. His cock bobs in my face, but he holds himself steady. “Want this?” His eyebrow quirks wickedly.
In response, I tilt my head forward and poke my tongue out, flicking at his length. “Want this?”
He laughs and thrusts his hips forward. I suck greedily, swirling my tongue around his head. I feast on him, feeling him tremble, hearing him groan. His eyes are closed, and his hands grip the headboard so hard that his knuckles turn white. His breath comes faster and faster as I explore the velvet-soft steel of him.
I hear the sound of a condom wrapper tear, and Hudson parts my legs. His huge cock rubs at my entrance, then he plunges into me in one smooth stroke.
My pussy clamps around him like a vise. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He pulls his cock halfway out of my pussy and slides back in again, and the delicious friction sets me panting around Asher’s cock.
It takes me a few minutes to get used to the unfamiliar rhythm, but once I do, Hudson and Asher pick up the pace. Hudson pounds into my tight channel while his fingers trace light circles against my clitoris.
Each forceful stroke makes me ache for more. My body starts to tense, clenching around his cock, quivering in response to his steady thrusts. I’m close. I reach for Asher, putting my arms around his hips and drawing him deeper into my mouth, my movements frantic as my orgasm approaches.
Then Hudson’s fingers move just a little faster, strum just a little harder, and I erupt. My muscles clench around Hudson’s cock, milking him. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.
Hudson’s fingers dig into my thighs. He grunts loudly, then his body jerks as he climaxes, and a moment later, Asher erupts in my throat.
The three of us collapse in a heap on the bed. We lie in silence for about ten minutes. I feel boneless, drained, and sated.
Until Asher’s fingers snake down and fondle me between my legs.
“Ready for round two?” he asks. Hudson nuzzles my neck, his mouth kissing my sensitive flesh until my body starts to spark again.
I’m shocked to see that their dicks are already hard. “How is this possible?”
“You’re very hot,” Asher says solemnly, rolling a condom over his cock. “So, are you ready?”
I smile widely and part my legs for him. “Absolutely.”
After three rounds of intense sex, I fall asleep. It’s dark when I wake up, and the clock at the side of the bed tells me it’s four in the morning. Hudson and Asher are sound asleep on either side of me, their eyes closed and their breathing deep and steady.
My mouth curls into a grin as I realize it’s now officially my birthday. What a good start, I congratulate myself, rolling out of bed. Happy birthday to me.
I tiptoe around the room, trying to find my clothes. A light flickers on. “Where are you going?” Hudson asks me.
Asher’s still asleep, but when the light fills the room, he stirs, and his eyes blink open. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just leaving.”
Hudson frowns. “You don’t have to go,” he says. “You’re welcome to spend the night.”
I shake my head. “Casual, remember?” I say lightly, pulling my t-shirt over my head and tugging my pants over my hips. “I’ll catch a cab home.”
Asher sits up. “What are you doing tomorrow? Would you like to get dinner with us again?”
My heart beats faster at his question, but then I remember I already have plans. “I can’t. I’m going out for drinks with my girlfriends.” I don’t want them to think I’m blowing them off, so I add, “It’s my birthday.”
“Is it?” Hudson gets to his feet. “Hang on for a second.” He takes off in the direction of the kitchen.
I give Asher a puzzled look. “What’s that about?”
He shrugs. “I have no idea.” He glances at the clock, then smiles at me. “Happy birthday.”
“It’s a big one,” I tell him, though I’m not sure why I’m chatty at four in the morning. “The big 3 - 0.”
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