Four of Hearts

by Roz Lee

  Ryan let Candace slip back to her feet, but continued to hold her close. “Look around. This is our room.”

  Richard looked around as if he’d never seen the place before. “Oh yeah, I guess it is.”

  Candace placed a kiss on Ryan’s cheek, then slipped from his grasp. He let her go, absorbing the loss like a blow to his gut. “Hi, Fallon.”

  “Hi,” she said, disengaging from Richard’s embrace.

  “So, Richard. What brings you here?”

  “I came looking for my wife. I think I need to get her out of here before she gets ideas.” He winked at Candace.

  “Fallon all ready has ideas,” Candace said.

  “Yeah, I know. And I love every one of them,” Richard said. “Let’s go.” He pulled Fallon toward the door. “There’s just enough time for you to show me an idea or two before dinner.”

  “Are we checking out Russell’s show tonight?” Ryan asked as Richard and Fallon headed for the door.

  Richard paused with his hand on the knob. “We should, don’t you think? How about Zeus’ Temple tonight, then we’ll catch the show.”

  Ryan glanced at Candace who nodded her agreement. “Sounds good. Catch ‘ya later.” As soon as the door closed behind them, Ryan reached for Candace. “Alone at last.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I still can’t believe you booked Russell Easton,” Fallon said. They’d joined Candace and Ryan at their usual table in Zeus’ Temple.

  Richard shrugged. “Why not? The guy’s got talent.”

  “He had talent. Past tense. Does anyone besides you remember him?”

  “I remember him,” Ryan said. “The Boy Toys played on campus a couple of times. They were great.”

  “That was a long time ago, Ryan,” Fallon said. “The Boy Toys are old news.”

  “I think it’s nice that you’re giving him another chance,” Candace said. “Just because boy bands went out of fashion, doesn’t mean the individual members weren’t any good.”

  Richard smiled at Candace. “See, that’s what I’m saying. Thanks, Candace.”

  Candace smiled. Fallon groaned and rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t blame me if he falls flat on his face.”

  “Where else is he going to get another shot at a career? We offer a small venue, a captive audience, and plenty of time to work on his show. Washed up or not, his name still draws people. Bookings were up five percent after we announced he was going to debut his new band on the Lothario,” Ryan said.

  “Well, in that case.” Fallon said.

  Laughter erupted at the table. “And that is the bottom line,” Richard said. “Money.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep an open mind. I just hope he doesn’t sing all those old songs. They weren’t that good to begin with, I doubt they’ve improved with time.”

  “The comments from his first show were good,” Candace said.

  “They were,” Ryan agreed. “Now that he has his sea legs, it’s time to check out the show. If he doesn’t measure up we’ll have to rethink the contract offer.”

  * * * * *

  After the show, they made their way to the Siren’s Lair. The cozy lounge on the Pinnacle Deck sat high above the craziness typical onboard the Lothario. Many of the clamshell-styled seating areas faced a wall of windows that, weather permitting, were open to the warm breeze. The Sirens—three women in sheer gowns—played softly on golden harps while mermaids attended to the guests needs. It was by far the most peaceful place on the ship.

  They were shown to a private clamshell facing the open window. The ship was barely moving so the gauzy drapes, pulled open, fluttered softly in the breeze. Fallon and Candace scooted to the center and Richard and Ryan joined them like bookends on the curved bench seat. A few minutes later, their mermaid arrived with a tray laden with hors d’oeuvres and small desserts. Ryan ordered champagne for the occasion.

  He had every right to. The show had been outstanding. Easton refrained from singing all the oldies, interspersing a few here and there among a host of new material.

  “Okay, I bow to the genius among us,” Fallon said. “Russell Easton isn’t bad. I thought he looked uncomfortable in the skimpy costume, but other than that. . . .”

  “Thank you,” Ryan and Richard said in unison. They laughed and saluted each other with their champagne flutes.

  “You two are impossible,” Candace sided with Fallon.

  “But you love us,” Richard said.

  “I don’t know why,” Fallon teased.

  “Yes, you do.” Richard tugged gently on the leash attached to Fallon’s collar. She leaned in for his kiss. “I think you were very bad. How could you doubt me?” He feigned a wounded look, and then glanced at Ryan. “What do you think?”

  “I think they were both bad. Candace had as many doubts as Fallon.”

  “You know, you’re right. What do you think we should do about it?”

  “Since they think they know so much, maybe they should audition for us. If we like what we see, perhaps we’ll keep them around for a while.”

  “Ryan, my friend, you are full of good ideas tonight.” They cleared the low round table in front of them, moving the trays and drinks to the floor. Ryan tossed a couple of throw pillows from the bench to the table.

  “Both of you, on your knees.” Richard motioned them to the tabletop.

  Fallon glanced at Candace. They shared a smile, then they stood and took their places on the table.

  “Too many clothes, don’t you think?” Ryan asked Richard.

  Richard nodded. “Definitely. Take off the wraps.”

  Ryan’s cock twitched as the women reached for the ties that held their short kimonos closed. A slight tug was all it took to untie the ribbon of satin, and the robes fell open. As if they were marionettes controlled by the same puppeteer, the women shrugged their shoulders. Turquoise satin fluttered and fell feather soft to drape their calves.

  On the table before him, two perfect goddesses awaited their command. Candace wore a few scraps of sheer turquoise fabric trimmed in delicate white lace, and Fallon’s body was criss-crossed with thin gold ropes, interspersed with jewels of every conceivable color. “My God, Richard.”

  “Yeah, look at them. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

  “No,” Ryan croaked. It wasn’t a lie. Candace in her sweetly innocent attire, and Fallon in her slave chains, made his throat close up, and sent blood rushing to his groin faster than a planet being sucked into a black hole. His fingers itched to touch them. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching for one or both of them.

  “Ladies, I want you to think of where you most want to be touched right now, then I want you to touch yourself there. Show us how you’d like us to touch you,” Richard commanded.

  Candace’s eyes fixed on Richard as he spoke, then she turned those magnificent blue orbs on Ryan, silently asking if he wanted the same thing. Ryan licked his dry lips and nodded to his wife. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips before one hand came up to cover her breast as the other stroked across her belly, and lower.

  He didn’t know where to look first. Both her small hands were touching places he’d kill to have his hands. He knew the texture of her skin, knew how soft and smooth it felt beneath his hands. Sweat beaded on his brow as she plucked one nipple to a hard peak through the thin layer of fabric. Whose crazy idea was this? To look and not touch was the purest form of torture.

  Her fingers slid beneath the band of lace toward her cleft and the hot silk Ryan knew was there. The fabric stretched over the back of her hand as she delved deeper. The knuckle of one finger strained against the fabric, disappeared between her folds, then rose again as she stroked in and out. The warm ocean breeze carried her scent to his nostrils, and he breathed it in like a man who’d been deprived of oxygen too long.

  Candace groaned, drawing his gaze upward. She’d pushed one bra cup up to reveal the creamy mound it supported, and a ruby tipped nipple. Her fingers worked the tight nu
b. He followed the long column of her throat as another sound worked its way from deep inside and spilled from her parted lips. Her auburn mane cascaded down her back and floated out and back with the undulations of her taunt body. She was poetry in motion, living art against the backdrop of a diamond studded night sky. Her body was one with the music of the siren’s harps.

  Every muscle in Ryan’s body screamed to be let loose to consume the vision before him. Ryan held himself in check, almost afraid to move lest he disturb the perfection before him. Candace existed in this moment, in a world of her own, where her pleasure was in her own hands. One movement from him might shatter her concentration and destroy the work of art in progress, so he clenched his fists tighter and ground his teeth, and choked back the frustration clawing at his groin. He longed to wrench her panties to her knees, but to touch her now would be like taking a sledgehammer to a masterpiece.

  The sheer veil provided by her panties left to his imagination the stroke and slide of her fingers. He could only guess at how the cream skin of her fingers looked against her heated and engorged cleft. In his mind’s eye he saw her digits dip into her flooded channel, only to retreat and push back in. Was the heel of her hand pressing against her clit? Was that shadowed movement, her thumb teasing and taunting her hooded nub?

  He could see, but he couldn’t see. The muscles in her thighs trembled, and he longed to pull her against him, to lend his strength to her, but he sat like a stone statue, wanting, watching, waiting.

  Her body tensed. He held his breath, one heartbeat, two. She pushed her body over the edge, and before she could fall, Ryan was there. One arm pulled her against him, the other followed the trail of her arm to cover her hand beneath the panties. His fingers joined hers, sliding into her pussy, absorbing the tremors of her release.

  “God, Candy. You are so damned sweet,” he breathed against her hair. When her body relaxed against his, he whispered, “I’ve got to have you. Now.”

  “Yes,” she said, a whisper against his chest.

  He pulled her to the bench. He worked her panties off one leg and entered her on a single, powerful thrust. She clung to him as he flexed his hips against her. Her body caressed him. Her wet heat bathed his cock and beckoned him home. He wanted it to last, but watching her had shredded the bands of control.

  Candace touched her lips to his shoulder, a sweet blessing that sent him spiraling through space. She was so damned perfect. He hammered into her. Her nails raked across his ass, probed the depths she could reach. The climax began as a burn in the small of his back, spread like a wildfire through his abdomen to his balls, and erupted inside her like an undersea volcano. He poured his life-fluid into her in great spurts that racked his body, and all the while, Candace covered his shoulders and chest with tiny, candy kisses.

  * * * * *

  Fallon wore the gold rope ensemble on rare occasions, and every time she did, Richard wanted to strip her outer garments away and parade her in front of the world. The slave ensemble proclaimed her as his. Kneeling before him now, she belonged to no one else. She might enjoy what Ryan could give her, and he’d never deny her the pleasure she found with Ryan, but when she wore his ropes that was another thing all together.

  Beside her, Candace was all sweet cream and innocence, but his eyes, his desire was for the woman wearing his ropes. Fallon followed his orders. She traced the rope lines across her stomach with the tip of one finger, just as he knew she liked for him to do, only he usually traced those lines with his tongue, tasting every inch of bare skin as he went. When she got to her breasts, she cupped them in her palms. Her dark nipples begged for the clamps he’d had made for them. In the absence of the jeweled clamps, Fallon pinched and tugged on the hard nubs, rolling them between her thumbs and forefingers until a soft mewl of need escaped her lips.

  Richard inhaled deeply. She made that same sound whenever he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked it hard against the roof. He had no doubt she was thinking of the same thing as she worked her breasts. Fallon raised her eyes to his, and like the seductress she was, her lips parted. Her pink tongue darted out and swirled around her left index finger before she sucked it into her mouth up to the third knuckle. There was absolutely nothing subtle about her hint. It took no imagination at all to remember the feel of her mouth on him, to remember the wicked things she did with her tongue. Years of research on the art of fellatio made his wife almost lethal with her tongue.

  Richard was near to losing the battle with his body when Fallon pulled the digit from her mouth with a ‘pop’. With her eyes still locked on his, her hand disappeared behind her back. His cock nearly exploded when he realized what she meant to do. Her arm flexed. Her eyelids dropped, and her legs crumpled beneath her as her finger breached the tight ring of muscles. She sat on her heels for a moment, a moment Richard forgot to breathe, before she raised her chin. Her eyes met his again, direct, challenging. He met her gaze with one as direct.

  Fallon raised her other hand to her mouth, and repeated the seduction with her right index finger. It was all Richard could do to remain seated when that same wet finger found its way to her clit, then slid further down. Her upper torso twisted slightly so she was able to keep one finger in her ass, the other in her pussy. The flex of muscles in her left arm told him the story he could not see, that she finger fucked her hidden hole as thoroughly as she did the one he could see.

  It would be so easy to stand, cradle her head in his hands, and nudge his cock between her lips. He imagined her blue eyes beneath the lowered lids had darkened to the deepest sapphire, as they did when she was aroused. Every cell in his body strained toward her. His heart ruled his brain where Fallon was concerned. He felt complete when he sank into her, as if his life was a puzzle and she was the piece that held it all together. Her capacity to love humbled him.

  Watching her now, his heart swelled until he thought it might burst. She was magnificent in her passion. Her body glowed with it. A light sheen coated her skin as she pushed herself closer to the edge. Richard sat like a coiled snake, every muscle on alert to strike when the time was right.

  He knew before she did that she’d reached the point of no return. He edged forward, ready to catch her the second she let go. Fallon sucked in a sharp breath. Her head fell back, her mouth open in surrender. Her body jerked with the force of her release, then she slumped forward. Richard caught her in his arms, lifted her effortlessly to his lap. He guided her to his throbbing shaft. He slid home in one smooth stroke.

  Fallon wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her head to his shoulder, letting Richard control their joining. With his hands on her hips, he lifted her; let her slide back down his length in slow, sensual strokes. She felt so damned good. He’d never get enough of her. She nibbled at the pulse in his neck, and he almost came right then. He needed to slow things down.

  Richard held her still with one hand, and with the other, traced lacy patterns over her arched back and across her buttocks. She shivered at his touch, and he smiled to himself. If he couldn’t ever come again for the rest of his life, he’d be content just to sit this way with her, joined as intimately as two people could get. He turned his face. Her hair tickled his nose. He inhaled her fresh scent and his cock surged inside her. Damn. There wasn’t anything about her that didn’t send him into the stratosphere.

  Fallon raised her face to his. Her smile went straight to his heart. “Witch,” he whispered against her lips.

  “You love me though.” She threw his earlier words back at him.

  “Yes. I love you.”

  Fallon fused her lips to his. He stroked his hand along her spine, delved into the crease at the base of her spine, and found her tight little secret hole. Her kiss grew bolder, and he toyed with the rosebud, pressing his finger against it, but not breaching. Fallon flexed her hips. Richard ground his cock in as deep as it could go, and at the same time, one long finger broke through the snug ring of muscles behind.

  Fallon straightened, bracing her
hands on Richard’s shoulders as another orgasm trembled through her. Richard held out as long as he could, but the sweet feel of her inner muscles clenching around his cock and his finger was more than he could take. With one last powerful thrust, he erupted inside her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryan glanced up from the documents in his hand as the door to his suite opened. “It’s about time,” he muttered.

  Candace gave him a long-suffering look across the breakfast table. “Not everyone gets up at the crack of dawn,” she scolded.

  Fallon bent and placed a light kiss on Candace’s lips, and another on Ryan’s. Richard slapped Ryan on the back and gave Candace a glancing good morning kiss. “Good morning to you too,” Fallon said. They took the other two seats at the table and helped themselves to breakfast from the platters of food.

  “Serves you right if the food is cold,” Ryan said.

  “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Richard asked.

  Ryan tossed the sheaf of papers on the corner of the table and refilled his coffee cup. “No one. I’m just anxious to get off the ship for a while.”

  “He’s feeling trapped,” Candace explained. “Some time in Miami will do him good.”

  “Me too,” Fallon said. “Not that I’m feeling trapped, but I’m looking forward to a whole week together. I’m getting tired of living separate lives. At least we’ll all be in the same suite at the hotel.” They’d developed a routine over the last few weeks, spending their time together in one bed or the other, then going their separate ways to actually sleep before sharing breakfast together the next morning.

  Candace sat straighter. “You know, you have a point. Life would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to go our separate ways every evening.” She looked at Ryan. “What if we converted our two suites here into one big one? Could it be done?”

  Ryan studied the common wall between his and Richard’s suite. “Maybe. What do you think, Richard? Could we knock that wall out and join the suites?”