Club Belle Tori

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Club Belle Tori Page 15

by Michelle Hoppe


  Brody rolled his eyes. “Right. You can read women’s minds now?”

  Drew laughed. “I wish. But on this I’m pretty certain.” Catching Brody’s look of disbelief, Drew sighed. He placed his empty glass on the table between them and fished a handful of ice from the bucket beside him. After he poured a generous serving of rum into his glass, he proffered the bottle to Brody.

  Brody knocked back the remains of his drink and handed over his glass. “Why not?”

  Once he’d poured, Drew sank into his chair once again and took a swallow of the potent alcoholic mix. “I found some books in Sid’s collection. They looked like ordinary chick books at first so I never took any notice of them. But a couple of weeks ago I was looking for something to read and I picked one up. It wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

  Brody sent his friend a sly look. “Are you telling me you’ve been reading Sidney’s romance novels?”

  “Maybe you ought to try it sometime. You might learn something about women.”

  Brody smirked. “I know plenty about women.”

  “I meant about the way women think.” Drew reached over and poked Brody’s temple with two fingers. “Not just the way they’re put together.”

  “There’s something to be said for understanding the workings of the female anatomy.”

  “No argument here. But knowing what her fantasies are, that takes things to a whole new level.”

  “Is that what you think? That you know all your girlfriend’s secret desires because you’ve been sneaking a peak at her romance novels?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. And they’re not romance novels—not what I thought romance novels were anyway. These were full of sex. Lots and lots of sex.”

  “Let me guess—threesome sex.”

  “Right.”

  Brody laughed so hard he almost snorted cola out his nose. “Oh man. I read spy novels, Drew, but it doesn’t make me James Bond.”

  “If you could for a day, wouldn’t you want to be?”

  “Speak for yourself. You’re the one with 007 fantasies.”

  Drew shrugged. “He has some really cool gadgets.”

  They fell quiet for a long moment as they both stared idly out at the moonlit bay. The water’s surface shimmered a little more than it had an hour ago, and Brody realized he was approaching a state of half-drunk. In his slightly inebriated state, he started to wonder why he was objecting to Drew’s suggestion so strenuously. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about what it would be like to have Sidney in his bed.

  He shifted in his chair as the familiar prickle of guilt tugged at his gut. Yes, he’d thought of Sidney in a sexual way. More than once and certainly a hell of a lot more often than he should have. She was his best friend’s girl, for Christ’s sake.

  But she was also five feet four of sassy blonde in a miniskirt, with an innately sensual smile that never failed to get his blood pumping. The instant he’d seen her the day he’d returned from a six-month stint cruising along Australia’s east coast, he’d wanted her. Even though she’d been in Drew’s apartment at the time, wearing the other man’s shirt and a very satisfied glow.

  From then on, he’d done as much as he could to ignore the woman’s unwelcome impact on his libido. He couldn’t avoid her altogether because she and Drew were practically joined at the hip. She even worked as a waitress at The Blue Fish Grill, which made running into her a regular occurrence, seeing as he worked there himself in the summer months. So he’d done the only thing he felt he could do. He’d treated her with an aloof disdain that stopped slightly short of outright insolence, a manner he’d perfected in his adolescence that still proved useful from time to time.

  Drew’s voice broke into Brody’s disquieting reminiscence. “I thought I’d like to organize a special surprise for her for our anniversary. You know it’s been a year, right?”

  “Yeah,” Brody answered quietly. “I know.”

  “A year.” Drew smiled and shook his head. Brody tried not to be jealous at how deliriously happy the other man looked. He tried really hard. “After everything she’s done for me, I think it’s the least I can do.”

  “Ugh.” Brody gave an exaggerated wince. “Don’t you dare give me details.”

  Drew laughed. “Envy is one of the seven deadly sins, man.”

  Brody refrained from responding, taking a long pull of his drink instead. He was on intimate terms with a whole host of deadly sins, most especially of late the one Drew had just teased him about.

  “Look, if you don’t want to do it, no problem.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to do it.” The retort surprised Brody. What the hell was he thinking? But he found he didn’t have it in him to take back the words. The thought of Sidney, naked, wet, wanting him… It was more powerful than what little sense of honor he could lay claim to. “But it’s not a good idea to surprise her. What am I going to do? Pop out of a closet?”

  “I’ll talk to her before dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you come over around eight? If it’s not something she wants to do, you can leave right after we eat.”

  Brody’s heart started beating out that frantic tattoo again, the one that thoughts of Sidney often seemed to instigate. God help him, his desire for her overrode his sense of loyalty to Drew. And he owed Drew and the whole Buchanan clan for the way they’d opened their home to him. His childhood had been desolate and often frightening. His adolescence would have been worse if not for Drew.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Brody could as easily ask that question of himself. But if he was confident of anything, it was his ability to keep his true feelings hidden. Drew need never know Brody’s desire to be with Sidney was anything other than purely primal. “I mean basing this on what kind of books she reads?”

  “They were pretty well thumbed. And dog-eared in particularly interesting places.”

  “Dog-eared, huh?” Brody drawled. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  * * * *

  Drew took the stairs to the flat he shared with Sidney two at a time, looking forward to seeing her. Although he didn’t open the restaurant on Monday nights, he’d gotten stuck there doing paperwork, the bane of his existence as a chef-slash-business owner. He was already later than he wanted to be on the first anniversary of the night they’d met.

  The one-bedroom apartment was on the upper floor of a colonial-style house that had been converted to four separate living quarters in the 1980s. It was small and the bathroom had a tendency to attract mold, but the narrow terrace provided a terrific view of the bay and the town of Graceville below.

  It hadn’t been much to look at on the inside when Drew lived there by himself, but when Sidney moved in, she started adding a few feminine touches that he found he liked—lace curtains over the windows, scented candles on the sideboard and paintings on the walls. Despite the fact that she’d never had a permanent base to call home, Drew recognized the nesting instinct that drove her to spruce the place up and it made him smile.

  He’d first seen Sidney at his restaurant, where she’d been dining with a girlfriend of hers, the two of them having come to town on a weekend escape. He’d taken one look at her and his years of fun but shallow relationships went over the balcony. Golden-haired, green-eyed, pint-sized Sidney changed everything with her sweet, open spirit and her cheeky sex appeal. She’d stayed after her dinner to talk to him and before long she’d ended up at his flat. The next morning he’d asked her to stay.

  To his delight she did. A year on and she hadn’t left. If Drew had anything to say about it, she never would.

  He thought of the ring he’d bought months ago, which sat safely encased in a velvet box in his sock drawer. One day soon he’d give it to her. Maybe after tonight he’d have at last fulfilled every one of her secret wishes. He wanted to ease her inclination to grow unsettled, a tendency that troubled him. Sometimes he was beset by a chilling suspicion she might leave.

  He set those niggling fears aside as he pushed open t
he door. Things were going so great between them that Drew refused to seriously contemplate the possibility she’d throw what they had away, simply because her peripatetic past hadn’t prepared her for the kind of constancy he wanted to offer her. “Honey!” he called out in a jovial voice. “I’m home!”

  The aroma hit him first. Oregano, thyme and lemon, with a hint of garlic. Something baking, probably chicken. The ubiquitous scent of the bay, saltwater and sand carried through the open balcony doors on a gentle night breeze. And beneath it all, both subtle and unmistakable, the delicate drift of jasmine heralding Sid’s preferred perfume.

  That scent teasing his nostrils alerted him to her approach before his searching gaze lit on her. When he caught sight of her in the candlelight, his breath stilled in his lungs. “Holy…” His epithet drifted away from him as the impact of what she wore hit with the force of a tornado. He felt dizzy and breathless and horny all in the matter of a split second.

  She stood in the doorway that led to their bedroom, wearing a dress that could be illegal on several continents. Made of black mesh that clung to her curves and draped down her arms, the “V” neckline dipped low over the subtle swell of her cleavage. Black lace inserted in strategic places proffered a cursory nod to modesty, concealing her flesh where the mesh did not. The garment barely skimmed the lacy tops of her black stockings, and her petite legs seemed impossibly long thanks to a criminally high pair of black spike heels.

  By the time his gaze completed the tour of her appearance, Drew wanted her in the worst way. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing hold and taking her right where she stood. He fought to curb his manly impulses and managed a husky comment. “Holy shit, Sid.”

  Her chin-length blonde hair was tousled in a fashion that made him think of two of them rolling around in bed. She ran her hand up and down her side, shifting the material of that poor excuse for a dress against her skin in a deliberately sensuous movement that made his loins burn. “You like my outfit?”

  “Is that a trick question?” He took three steps toward her, his gaze never quite managing to rise above her neck. “When do I get to take it off?”

  Sidney laughed and wagged a finger at him. “Not yet, stud. I’ve prepared a delicious feast for you.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  She gave him an admonishing glance that did nothing to discourage his hard-on from growing to full strength. “Herb chicken, garlic roasted baby potatoes and steamed asparagus.”

  “A goddess who also cooks. I really lucked out with you, didn’t I?”

  “You taught me everything I know.” She stepped forward, those dangerously spiked heels clacking on the floorboards, and ran a red-painted fingernail down the center of his chest. Drew sucked more air into his already laboring lungs. “About cooking I mean.”

  That wicked smile of hers made him grow harder, as though there were a steel rod implanted in his privates. He’d be the first to admit, despite his fairly extensive experience with women, Sidney had taught him a thing or two in the bedroom in the year they’d been together. She was thrillingly adventurous, sexually confident and always open to new things. Her daring nature was one of the factors he’d taken into account when he’d made his plans for tonight.

  The reminder brought him up short. Brody. His friend would be here any minute. He ought to warn Sidney that Brody would be joining them and why. Something he would do, as soon as he could formulate a coherent sentence that didn’t begin with, I’ll give you the moon if you let me fuck you right now.

  He cleared his throat. “Sid, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Hmm?” She leaned forward and brushed her hot mouth softly over his neck, making his pulse beat against her ruby red lips.

  Drew groaned, his head swimming with lust. “I mean it, I want to talk.”

  Sidney twined her arms around his waist and ran her hands up over his back. Pressing her slender, womanly flesh tighter against his body, she raised one foot to trace her spike heel along his calf through his jeans. “What is it you want to talk about?”

  His thoughts scattered as she continued to place enticing kisses along his throat. All reason fled south and channeled more energy into the erection that raged inside his pants. “I can’t remember.”

  Her soft laugh rippled through his blood stream. “Did it have something to do with this?” She cupped him through his fly, giving his thickened staff an expert little massage. “You want to discuss what we’re going to do with”—she squeezed him gently—”this?”

  Suddenly it was all Drew wanted to talk about. “Oh God yes.”

  “I was going to make you wait. To make you sit all the way through a leisurely dinner before I let you get near me. Then I planned to play the reluctant mistress, so you would have to pull out all the stops to talk me into bed.” She released a melodramatic sigh that pushed her breasts against his chest and made him want to touch them so badly his hands started to itch. “But then I lay in a long, hot bubble bath and I started having another fantasy.”

  With a groan, Drew ran his hands down her back until they settled on the tempting swell of her ass. He molded her cheeks through the dress, his mind’s eye picturing Sid naked in the bath, inventing ways to seduce him. “What is this fantasy?”

  “Well, I thought it would be fun if you came home and took one look at me all dressed up and you were overcome with lust.”

  Drew swooped upon the soft curl of her ear and nipped at the lobe. “I am overcome with lust.”

  “So overcome you can’t possibly wait to have me?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you want to push up my dress and bury your long, hard cock inside me?”

  “God, Sid.” She took a step backward and he followed blindly, completely driven by the need to do exactly as she’d said. He pressed her against the wall, his chest flattening her breasts as he slotted his hips into the “V” of her thighs and settled his seeking erection against her welcoming sex. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around him. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

  “Likewise, Drew Buchanan.” She smiled into his eyes, the affectionate expression as lethal to his sensibilities as her overtly seductive one. “I’ve thought about you all day, wanted you all day. I almost resorted to my vibrator.”

  Drew kissed her, hard. He loved how open and honest she was. He broke the kiss and they both panted heavily. Sidney’s eyes had darkened to an emerald green that looked almost black in the low light. Her lips were parted and swollen, the red lipstick smudged from his kiss. She brought her tongue out to wet those lips, and Drew watched them as they formed her throaty demand. “Fuck me, Drew.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. He kissed her again while sending his fingers on an exploration of her inner thighs. He wasted little time reaching his ultimate destination, the urging rock of Sidney’s hips spurring his impatience. He found her hot core, circled her entrance and discovered her slick and open. He ran his touch over her smooth lips, the sensation yanking a gasp from his throat.

  He pulled back far enough so he could lift her lacy black dress to her hips. She wore no panties. He stared down at her, confirming his suspicion. “Oh honey, you shaved.”

  “It was a very long bath.”

  Drew trailed his fingers over her mound, fascinated by its shape and texture. He pinched the folds of her sex together lightly, exerting gentle pressure on her clit. Sidney shimmied against the wall, thrusting her hips at him. “Drew…now.”

  “Yes.” He tore open his fly with one hand, bracing his weight on the wall behind Sidney with the other. He pushed down his jocks and pulled out his cock. His flesh felt raw and sensitive, his balls about ready to burst from the touch of his own hand. He wasn’t going to last for any respectable length of time.

  Fortunately, Sidney didn’t want a slow seduction right now. He pressed the tip of his swollen member to her opening and probed.

  She was dripping, so wet he glided right in. He buried himself
completely within the exquisite resistance of her slick muscles. Sidney grabbed his biceps and undulated into him. She held his gaze with one full of determination. “Don’t go slow this time, Drew. Do it fast. Do it hard.”

  Drew withdrew enough that he was able to slam back into her. Sidney squealed, a purely female sound of shocked delight. He repeated the move and heard a thud as her head hit the wall. But when he might have gentled, she pinned him once again with her gaze. “Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t. He slid inside her again and again, setting no lyrical rhythm, as he usually tried to do. He fucked her against the wall with primitive strokes, ramming into her body with satisfying power while she kept telling him not to stop, to give it to her hard, to make her come.

  Drew wasn’t sure he’d be able to satisfy her last demand before he got to that point himself. The blood rushed in his ears, deafening him to all else but Sidney’s wild urgings. “Yes, that’s it. Slam into me. That’s it… Oh!”

  Her first spasm made Drew lose himself. “God, Sid, I’m coming.”

  “Yes, baby. Give it to me.”

  “I love you, honey.”

  “It’s happening…”

  At the cataclysm they cried out in rapture together, clinging to each other in the throes of climax like two people set adrift in a stormy sea. Drew nipped at Sidney’s earlobe as he sailed over the edge of the world, soothing the tender flesh with his tongue as the rushing tide of his blood finally began to ebb.

  Sidney played with his hair, slowly twining the short strands around her fingertips while her breathing turned from shallow to deep. “Well,” she sighed at last. “How was your day, dear?”

  Drew laughed, his chest rumbling against the laughter that billowed in hers. The joy swam with the aftereffects of ecstasy in his head, and he felt like he was flying. Like nothing could spoil this perfect moment.

  But several things did.

  The shrill ringing of the oven timer shouted into the postcoital bliss. Sidney groaned, “Oh, it’s the chicken.”

  The sound punctured the euphoric bubble that surrounded Drew, and the realization crept in that in the midst of passion he’d told Sidney he loved her. Not the first time he’d whispered it, or shouted it, while he had her wrapped in his arms. On each of those occasions, like now, he carefully avoided remarking on the fact she didn’t say it back.

 

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