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Mile High Ménage
Copyright © 2012 by Monica Corwin
ISBN: 978-1-61333-446-1
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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The Vampire’s Plaything by Ashlynn Monroe
All the Pretty Faces by JoAnne Kenrick
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No Strings Attached by Jennifer Labelle
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Mile High Ménage
The Edge Erotica Series
By
Monica Corwin
~Dedication~
To my mother, without whom I would not be here.
Mom: you’re still not allowed to read this.
Mile High Menage
Tanya set her book on the table and stretched her sore, stiff neck. The ‘fasten seat belt’ sign dinged off, and she stood and slipped into her red stilettos. The wrinkles in her beige pencil skirt and white button down weren’t too noticeable. Hopefully her hair wasn’t a mess; she ran a hand over the length of her ponytail just in case.
Taking the red eye from Morocco to New York hadn’t been in her plans. Her business partner and former lover, Eric, had called and rambled on about an emergency situation and that she needed to catch a flight fast. All she’d managed to grab on the way to the airport were her briefcase and a book. Knowing Eric, the drama queen, the emergency was probably nothing, but he still had her wrapped around his little finger so she’d found a flight.
The entire plane contained nothing but Elite Class suites catering to the crème de la crème, and ensured meeting someone interesting at the very least. A drink called her name as she opened her cabin door and stepped out into the hallway.
Walking through the passage to the bar, she entered and sat on the closest stool. The room reminded her of a twenties-style speakeasy with a Moroccan flare. Glass and crystal glittered amidst jewel-toned carpets and furnishings. Other than the man behind the bar, the rest of the place was deserted.
“Vodka, with a twist?” she asked.
The sound of her voice startled him, causing him to slosh some of the liquid over the edge of the glass he held. He glanced up and gave her a short nod before continuing.
I hope he speaks English.
She grabbed a nearby packet of peanuts as disappointment swept over her in a wave. She wished for better options than the bartender to flirt with. Her drink arrived fast, and she paid in cash, but he ignored the money on the bar, instead watching her take a tentative sip.
“Delicious!” She stifled a moan and glanced at the bartender from under her lashes. Bringing his own drink, he walked around the bar to the seat next to her. Guess drinking on duty is fine.
Smiling, she watched him. He seemed intense, the way he marked her every move with his gaze, his bright green eyes capturing her. Middle Eastern features dominated his face, but even with caramel-colored skin and jet black hair hanging in small ringlets around it, he had Eastern European features as well. He belonged on a church ceiling.
She tipped her drink toward his glass. “What are you drinking?”
“Scotch.” His deep baritone voice, with a heavy English accent, strummed every nerve in her body like the strings on a harp.
Her drink half gone, she swirled the melting ice, trying to think of something else to say. Each thought that popped into her mind revolved around sex—sex with this handsome stranger, each vision a reminder she hadn’t had any in a long time. His voice reduced her to mush, and his intense gaze caused her skin to heat from the inside out.
An awkward silence stretched between them. She’d never been a great conversationalist. Give her a business proposal, and she would sell it to a client in under five minutes, but stick a guy in her face for a conversation, and it never went well.
“Isn’t this the part where you ask me where I’m from?”
His saucy grin only added to his appeal. He leaned closer to her, invading her space, until her knees shook. “So, where are you from?”
She pushed down the urge to laugh at his mocking her in that bedroom voice. Playfully, she shoved him away, not even moving him an inch.
“I’m from New York, and you?” The vodka started to sink into her bones adding to the heat coursing through her blood from the five minutes she’d spent with the exotic stranger.
He sat back and picked up his tumbler. “I’m from London, but I travel everywhere.” His accent, positively erotic, brought to mind various ways his mouth might form dirty words in her ear. Heat crept up her neck and she glanced away. She wasn’t prudish, but she had never picked up a bartender, even as a rebound fuck. The place remained empty, still not another soul in sight, it being three a.m. in Morocco. The playful air had passed. He moved his stool so close it almost touched hers; she had to bend her neck to see his face.
“What do you do?”
She swallowed, trying to keep her heartbeat under control. “I own a travel agency.”
“Must do quite well.”
What did he look like out of his black fitted pants and blazer? She cleared her mind of the distracting thoughts. “We do all right.”
His muscles strained the seams of his jacket, his build suggesting he worked out often and hard. If he doesn’t stop talking, I might start humping him against the bar stool. She imagined taking him to her room and stripping away his clothes with her teeth. Why not? She didn’t owe anything to Eric. He’d walked out on her with their secretary; he made his position clear, right on top of his desk.
Thoughts of Eric caused an instant reaction every time. Anger surged through her. She tossed back the rest of the vodka and pushed the glass toward the man. He reached for the bottle left on the bar, refilled her drink, and handed it over.
“Your face became serious.”
Thank you, Mr. Obvious. She took a deep breath, releasing her anger toward Eric and refocusing on the sex-on-a-stick a foot away. His aftershave and hair product scented the air; spicy and subtle, the perfect combination.
“Are you all right?” His concern for a complete stranger added to his appeal. With his voice pitched low he sounded even more like a walking radio ad for female sexual enhancement.
She nodded. “I’m fine. Not excited about getting back to New York, or the ten hours left on this flight.”
“Is this your first transcontinental flight?”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the way he said transcontinental like an everyday vocabulary word. “No. I do most of the travel for my company, but I didn’t want to leave Morocco yet. It’s a beautiful place I rarely get to visit.” She finished off her second drink. Now or never, if he rejects me then I can hide in my room until we land.
Her heart beat ninety miles a minute as she contemplated how to proposition him. “I’m going to my room. Do you want to come?”
He stood, smoothed out his jacket, and grabbed the bottle of vodka. “Lead on.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and her breathing resumed. Standing with equal alacrity, she headed down the hallway. Once they were both inside, he dwarfed the room making the space even smaller. Her head didn’t even reach his chin.
She took the bottle from his grip, careful not to brush against him as she slipped past, and stood near the bed. Guess I found something to keep me occupied for the flight, after all. After taking a swig from the bottle, she asked, “Can I take your jacket?”
Shrugging it off, he handed it to her, offering a nice view of his white shirt and bulging biceps. He rolled up his shirtsleeves revealing large forearms, devoid of hair. Her mouth watered at that small hint of bare skin.
She laid the jacket over the arm of the chair, and they approached each other, ending up close, their bodies not quite touching. He smelled like scotch and aftershave, a sexy combination. She gazed up into his crystal green eyes and waited for him to kiss her.
He stopped a breath from her mouth. “I know what you want.” He had to hear her heart beating. Breathing grew low on the list of priorities as his words caressed her lips. “I have one demand in order for us to do this.” He trailed his fingers across her cheek to the clip that held her hair in place and tugged it free, where it cascaded to the middle of her back.
She swallowed, trying not to lean into his touch or drool on him. “Okay. What?”
He ran his thumb across her cheek to her lips and rubbed the bottom one, adding to the seductive spell he wove. “My partner has to join us.”
The words hit her one at a time like chunks of coal thrown on a fire. She lit up at the thought of having a threesome, especially with this man.
She broke away from his touch in order to think more clearly. “What’s your partner like?”
His words were simple. “He’s beautiful.”
Stepping away, he put his hands in his pockets. She missed the heat of his presence in that short moment. She’d never had a threesome in her life and wasn’t sure she could handle this man, let alone another. The whole situation was so absurd, she laughed out loud. It couldn’t be helped.
“What’s your name?” Laughter broke up her words although they embarrassed her for not asking sooner.
He stuck his hand out. “Rone.”
“Tanya.” She shook it. “Well, are you going to get him, or not?”
His full grin compared to his smile like the sun compared to the moon; one cold and ethereal, the other warm and soothing. “I’ll return.” He slipped out the door.
What the hell am I getting myself into? She took another swig of the vodka. Her nerves were at the surface. Each movement sent shivers across her skin ramping up the languid head burning from her core. She sat on the bed, trying to compose herself. What if Rone’s partner doesn’t want me? Before she could formulate an answer, her door opened again revealing Rone and, of course, another gorgeous male.
Devastatingly beautiful didn’t begin to describe him; she had never seen a man so gorgeous. She took in his blue eyes and full lips. Fairer than Rone, more tan than dark, his brown hair and classic features suggested European heritage. What does he think about me?
He extended his hand. “I’m Josh.”
She didn’t hear an accent so she guessed American or Canadian.
She took a deep breath and shook his hand, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart in her ears. “Tanya.”
He stepped closer with a wide open smile. “Oh, I’m in love with you already.”
Under normal circumstances she didn’t like people in her personal space, but Josh grabbed her waist and pulled her in close before she could even think about saying ‘no.’ Their clothing was the only barrier between them. He cupped her face, tilting it then touched his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. The thought of cotton candy popped into her mind at the brush of his lips, they tasted sweet like sugar and were petal soft. She held firm, not willing to allow the inevitable melting into his arms, not yet. He laughed out loud before glancing over at Rone, who lurked in the corner of the room.
“Where did you find this one?”
Rone shrugged. “At the bar.”
Josh’s laughter rang through the small room again, the sound of a man unfazed by the world. Tanya couldn’t believe her luck as Josh focused his attention on her again. Staying still became difficult when she wanted to hump him like a cat. Controlling herself, she waited.
Josh ran both hands through her hair before letting it fall. Grasping her face, he stared at her, gaze intent. “Are you okay with this?”
She spoke with more confidence than she felt. “If you both guide me.”
He pushed her the remaining distance to the bed and sat next to her. She tilted her head, and he kissed her in a rush. She barely had time to react when he gently prodded her mouth with his tongue. Opening for him, she kissed him back with as much force as he had. Picking her up, he sat her on his lap, causing a moan of pleasure to escape her. The skirt stopped her core from making contact with the hard heat of him. Bunching it up around her waist, she wrapped her legs around him. Things were moving fast and she wanted more.
She sat back to catch a breath, and they both took each other in, wearing the same glazed expressions. Still breathing hard, she shifted to remove her heels and wrapped her legs in a more comfortable position around his waist. The red heels went flying over her shoulder, missing Rone by an inch as he stood near the other end of the bed, drink in hand, watching. They broke apart and beckoned Rone together.
He sat next to Josh on the bed and kissed her lips. Josh had been brutal and delicious. Rone countered that by being gentle and caressing, dragging moans from her with each breath. Soon she wove her fingers through Rone’s curls, the texture of the soft tresses adding to her arousal. She ground her core harder into Josh. With the teasing over, she needed one of them inside of her. The wet heat between her legs soaked her panties. She released Rone’s hair and getting to her feet, unbuttoned her shirt. Josh gazed at her, licking his lips while Rone took a sip of the drink he still held. She unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor. Her panties matched her bra, made of the same sheer material, baring her to their eyes. She made to go into the men’s arms, but before they could grasp her, she shook her head, holding them off.
She stood in her underwear before them and they were both still clothed. That needed to change. “Take off your clothes.”
Rone smiled and stood first. Setting his drink on the bedside table, he locked eyes with her. With a casual air, he pulled the shirt over his head. In zero to three seconds the fire already coursing through her exploded to an inferno. His body put masterpieces to shame—the abs, the arms, the chest, and muscles, all defined, hairless, and sculpted. He unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to his feet. He wore nothing but black boxer briefs and a huge boner. She stared at it before watching Josh undress. He didn’t make as big of a production as his friend, but his sex appeal equaled Rone’s in every way.
Unapologetic, Josh stood in front of her naked and hard. At least they want me as much as I want them. They gravitated to her, moving to touch her at the same time. Overwhelmed, she didn’t know what to do. Rone took control, kissing her again. She gripped him through his underwear and he grunted into her mouth.
“That
’s why I don’t wear underwear,” Josh’s words caressed her ear.
He ran his hands up and down her waist, cupping her breasts and pushing his dick along her ass. The heat of Josh and Rone surrounding her became a slow welcome assault, so much coursing through her that the second one of them touched her pussy she’d break. She continued to rub Rone in time with shifting her ass against Josh; one of them needed to be inside of her. She broke away from Rone’s kiss, still rubbing him and sat on the bed.
He sat next to her and turned toward her. As he gave one nipple a gentle squeeze, she fell back into the soft down comforter. Coming from beside the bed, Josh removed her panties, then did the same for Rone, tossing them across the room. Rone glided his hand over her belly down into her folds. He moved his index finger against her clit, sliding down in a demand she open to him.
Josh bent to his knees in front of him. “Is she wet?”
They locked gazes and Rone nodded. “Very.”
Josh took his friend’s cock in his mouth while Rone fingered Tanya. Watching the beautiful men together amped up her arousal, and she pushed harder into Rone’s hand.
“Please,” she whispered.
Josh rose and licked his lips while he watched them. Palming his dick, he gave it a few short pumps. Rone grabbed his pants from the floor, took out a condom, and put it on. Liquid heat continued to pool at her center and she panted with need. He motioned for her to come closer. She sat up and he grabbed her hips, drawing her toward him then maneuvered her on her hands and knees. His powerful body enfolded hers from above, and she shook as she imagined what was about to happen. He paused.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. He prodded her pussy, moving inch by inch, taking his time. The agony of waiting ended and pleasure rolled over her when he seated his dick all the way inside. Small little wiggles were all she could manage trying to get him to go faster, but he held her hips tight against him.
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