I’m not thinking clearly. I set my half-full glass of beer on the table closest to me. Grabbing my jacket, I leave the bar, almost running in my effort to catch up with Oliver.
It’s dark outside. The streets are brightly lit, but it’s started snowing. I stop outside the door and look to the right and the left, trying to pick out Oliver’s black jacket in a sea of black, but the tall blond man is nowhere in sight. Damn New Yorkers, I fume inwardly. Would it kill them to wear something other than black?
In the distance, I catch a glimpse of a familiar head. Oliver. He’s walking into the building that houses Imperium’s offices. I race after him, wondering why he’s going back to work.
“Oliver,” I call out as soon as I enter the lobby. He’s stepping into an elevator, and if I lose him now, I won’t be able to follow. I still don’t have after-hours access to the Imperium offices.
He looks up and sees me pelting toward him. He extends his arm and stops the elevator doors from shutting, and I slip in. “What are you doing, Miki?” he asks me. “This isn’t a good time.”
“I know.” I swallow. It’s too late to wonder if following Oliver is a good idea. “My husband cheated on me. For weeks after I left him, I swore up and down that I wanted to be left alone.” His expression isn’t encouraging. “My friends listened to me,” I continue. “But they always stayed within reach. They let me know they were there for me.”
He surveys me with expressionless eyes, then he reaches for the elevator panel and punches a button. “Where are we going?” I ask as the doors begin to shut.
“To the roof.”
“I probably should zip up my jacket.”
“Probably.” He doesn’t add anything else, and I fall into silence.
I’m feeling quite foolish. I barely know Oliver. I don’t know why I followed him like a crazy stalker. A sudden thought strikes me. “You’re not going to jump, right?” I ask nervously. “Because Oliver, I know the benefits are good at Imperium, but there’s not enough therapy in the world to help me cope with that.”
“Jump?” He looks at me blankly. “From the roof?” His eyes dance with amusement. “I just want to be alone, Miki. That doesn’t make me suicidal.”
“Should I go back?” I have no idea what Janine’s going to think of my mad dash.
He shakes his head. “You can stay if you like.”
The elevator jerks to a halt and the doors open to a drab landing. “Stairwell,” Oliver says, pointing to the door opposite us.
I follow him up a flight of stairs. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but when we get to the roof, it’s just a roof. There’s graffiti on the water tower, the floors are concrete, and it’s utterly freezing. I zip up my jacket and pull the hood up, and shove my hands into my pockets. I had gloves, but I don’t know where they went.
It would be nice if Oliver wanted to be alone somewhere warm. Ah well. That’s what happens when I invite myself along.
“You’re shivering.” Oliver shakes his head and puts his arm around me.
His body acts as a source of heat, and as a bonus, he’s blocking the wind. My teeth slowly stop chattering. “I’d forgotten how cold the city gets in February,” I murmur. “What happened with your marriage?”
“It was a mistake right from the start,” he replies. He sounds weary, tired. Drained. “But I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“I can relate.”
“Mmm.” He lapses into silence. I stay right where I am, savoring the feel of his body against mine. Held by Oliver like this, I feel comforted and safe, even though I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing the comforting. “One night, a business trip ended early, and I flew back home two days ahead of schedule. I called Claudia from the airport. I didn’t want to tell her I was back; I wanted to surprise her, but I did want to make sure she was at home.”
“She wasn’t?”
“No. She told me she was, but when I got to our apartment, the place was empty. She finally returned at nine the next morning, and she reeked of sex.”
I wrap my arm around his waist. “It sucks, doesn’t it? You start questioning your judgment. You wonder what you did wrong, why they cheated, if you could have done anything differently.”
“My therapist assures me that Claudia’s cheating isn’t about me. It’s about Claudia.”
“And do you believe him?”
“Her,” he corrects. “You know what I believe, Miki?” His voice is flat. “I believe people can’t be trusted.”
“Is that true?” I don’t want it to be. “Or are you still angry with your ex-wife?”
He’s got one arm around my shoulder. He turns me so I’m facing him, and he puts a finger on my chin. My heart starts to beat faster at the look of intensity in his sapphire blue eyes. “What do you think, Miki?” he asks me, his voice quiet. “Can I trust you?”
No. I’ve been hired to hack into your company. If I succeed, I’ll ruin the IPO.
But I’m not thinking of User0989 as Oliver’s head bends toward me. I’m not thinking of anything. My brain has turned into mush, and even though it’s freezing on the rooftop, my skin feels feverish with anticipation as Oliver’s fingertips brush over my lips.
I could move away. I don’t. My pulse races. “I don’t think HR will approve of this,” he murmurs.
“I don’t care,” I whisper. For three months, I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d taken his card at Thanksgiving. For three months, I’ve fantasized about Oliver, about Finn, about both their bodies pressed against mine.
My lips part, unprompted, and Oliver doesn’t hesitate. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, urging me closer, and then he kisses me.
At first, his touch is light, feather-soft and exploratory. I stand on tiptoe and kiss him back, my eyes fluttering shut. He smells faintly of the rum and coke he gulped down at the bar. “More,” I breathe, greedy for him.
He deepens the kiss, and his other hand, the one that isn’t curled around my neck, slides down my back and cups my ass. Pressed against his body, I can feel the hard weight of Oliver’s erection, and his arousal sends my own need skyrocketing. My fingers grip his down jacket, and I whimper in my throat.
Without breaking our kiss, Oliver moves his hand over my breasts, cupping them through my clothing. Too many layers. I nudge him toward my zipper, and he gets the message, unzipping my winter jacket. His thumb brushes against my pebbled nipple, then he reaches under my sweater to caress my bare skin, gently squeezing my breasts.
Oh. My. God.
I shudder at the shock of desire that shoots up my spine, and Oliver breaks off the kiss. “You’re cold,” he says, brushing his nose against mine. “Your skin is icy,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “Come home with me?”
I’m about to say yes, consequences be damned, when the door to the roof slams open and Finn walks out. I’m still pressed up against Oliver, his hand under my sweater, obviously cupping my breasts.
I kissed Finn at the party. Just a week ago. And I’m now kissing Oliver.
I pull free and fumble with my jacket, unable to meet either of their eyes. I can’t even imagine what they think about me. Slut, a voice inside me says accusingly.
“Miki. Stop.” Finn’s words jerk me from my spiral of self-loathing. There’s a dark edge to his tone. “Look at us.”
Oliver’s hands curve around my waist. He pivots me so I’m facing Finn, and he draws me into his body. My back rests against his chest, and my head falls back against his shoulder. My ass grinds into his crotch, and it's definitely having an effect. I can feel his cock react to me.
“Do you want this?” Finn asks, his voice soft and silky. His fingers are on my chin, tipping my head up so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Do you want both of us?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at him, transfixed. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer his question. And underneath the heat and the passion, underneath the vast, roiling sea of my
need, is a truth that can’t be denied. They’re my bosses. I’m plotting to destroy them.
This is a mistake.
Yet I stay where I am.
“Answer him,” Oliver says. “Tell us what you need, Miki. Ever since that day on the plane when you sat between us, I’ve been thinking of you. Fantasizing about you. Picturing you naked and tangled in my sheets, your legs parted, your eyes foggy with lust.”
Finn’s thumb brushes across my engorged nipple, and then he squeezes it. His ice-blue eyes bore into me, and he leans in.
I’m trapped against Oliver’s body, and Finn’s going to kiss me.
Finn’s face inches closer. I have plenty of time to protest and push him away, but I don't move. I can't. I'm a gazelle trapped, hypnotized by the knowledge of what's going to happen. My insides dance gleefully in anticipation and my pussy clenches in desperate need.
His lips touch mine. I’m sandwiched between the two men’s hard bodies. I can feel their erections grind into me, and heat engulfs my body.
Finn doesn't hurry. He takes his time, his kiss savage, passionate and through. When he draws away, I almost whimper in protest. "Miki,” he says, his voice sounding drugged with need, "Tell me what you want."
“One night,” I whisper. “Just one night. Nothing serious. Nothing real.”
Finn draws in a breath and nods slightly.
“Both of you.”
I close my eyes and wait for the condemnation, but there isn’t any. Oliver’s chuckle is warm against my ear. “Thank heavens,” he says. “Otherwise, one of us was going home with a serious case of blue balls.”
Finn zips up my jacket. “Let’s go.”
My mouth is dry with desire. I ache so much that it's almost painful. Yet I can’t help thinking that this is a huge, massive mistake.
21
Finn
Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.
Oscar Wilde
Last night, I’d been up late chatting with Miki on the DefCon forums. Oliver had been online too. The three of us had been talking about the latest hour of Doctor Who, and then we’d started discussing our favorite episodes.
The original series or the reboot? Miki had asked in response to my question. Be specific, Merlin.
Reboot, I’d typed, smiling as I waited for her reply. Claudia couldn’t understand why Oliver loved the show. “It’s stupid,” she used to whine. “Time machines aren’t real.”
As if the reality shows she used to watch were so fucking authentic.
The Day of the Doctor, Miki had said at once.
Oh come on, Oliver had written. Really, Mouse? You just think David Tennant is hot.
Guilty, she’d retorted. What about you, Lancelot? Since you mock my taste, what’s your favorite?
Hmm. That’s a complicated question, Oliver had typed. I don’t think I have one. Who’s your favorite companion?
Donna Noble, she’d replied. I don’t like young companions gazing worshipfully at the Doctor. Boring. Donna was smart and bright, and she treated the Doctor as an equal. They were friends, you know? I liked that.
We get into a cab, telling the driver to go to Oliver’s place, which has the sole virtue of being closer. In the back seat, Miki sits between the two of us, and I’m very aware of her presence.
One night, she said. Nothing serious. Nothing real.
She’s right. Tonight is a one-time thing. I can’t trust her, and if she discovers that Oliver and I are Lancelot and Merlin, she’ll never trust us. We’ve weaved a tangled web, and now, we’re knotted in it, and there’s no escape.
Miki’s the perfect woman. She’s smart and funny and kind. Though she’s been hurt, she still allows herself to be vulnerable. She’s not brittle and shallow, the way Claudia was. She’s real.
If the circumstances were different, I’d want to spend a lifetime with her.
22
Miki
I’m in the back seat of a cab, Oliver and Finn on either side of me, on my way to have sex with both of them.
What the hell am I doing?
“You look nervous,” Oliver says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between us. “Are you?”
“Yes.” There’s no point pretending otherwise. “It’s my first time doing this.”
A ghost of a smile creases Finn’s face. “First time doing what, exactly?”
I flush. “It’s my first threesome,” I reply. “My first time sleeping with my bosses. My first time sleeping with someone I barely know. Take your pick.”
Oliver’s hand covers mine. “Would it help to know I’m nervous too?” he asks.
“Are you?” I give him an astonished look. Oliver and Finn seem so much worldlier than I am. So much more self-assured. I can’t picture either of them being nervous about anything.
“I like you, Miki,” he replies. “I’m very aware that I’m your boss, and I don’t want to make things awkward at work either.”
The one thing I’ve learned this week at Imperium is how well-respected Oliver and Finn are. In fact, the only person who’s said anything negative about either of them is Lawrence Kent, and Kent is a grouch, who rarely has anything good to say about anyone. “We’re adults,” I say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”
Finn rests his hand on my thigh. I’m excruciatingly aware of the weight of his touch. My entire body tightens in anticipation of this evening, of what comes next. What I’m doing is foolish on so many levels, but my need makes me reckless. I haven’t had sex for six months. Yes, this isn’t the most sensible thing I’m doing, but it could be months before I meet someone else.
I just want one night.
For some strange reason, I feel intensely comfortable with Finn and Oliver. Janine was right; there is an easy connection between us. Maybe it was forged on the night we sat at the back of a plane and drank vodka and orange juice. I trust them. When Oliver tells me he doesn’t want things to be awkward at work, I believe him, and I know he’ll do everything in his power to keep things professional on Monday.
Yes, you trust them. But can they trust you? And what do you think is going to happen if they find out about User0989?
I shy away from that thought.
“You look troubled,” Oliver says. His eyes are uncharacteristically serious. “If you’ve changed your mind, we’ll drop you off at your place. There’s no pressure, Miki.”
No. I don’t want to go home. I twist toward the blond man. “Oliver,” I say firmly. “Stop talking and kiss me.”
His lips curl up, and he puts an arm around my shoulder, tugging me closer. “I can do that,” he whispers. Then he kisses me, hard and insistent. His tongue brushes against the seam of my lips, and his hand tightens in my hair, and I push the doubts out of my mind and kiss him back.
Finn’s palm still rests on my thigh. I’m very aware that he’s touching me, even as Oliver’s tongue slides against mine.
I can’t believe what I’m doing. I’m going to have sex with both of them tonight.
Oliver’s apartment occupies the top floor of a turn-of-century townhouse in the East Village. It’s a great space, with exposed brick walls and wood-beamed ceilings. “You have a fireplace,” I blurt out the moment I walk in. “And a skylight. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil for it?”
Oliver laughs. “It’s a fantastic apartment,” he agrees. “The windows overlook the communal courtyard. I’ll give you a tour in the morning. Can I get you a drink?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes. “Vodka and orange juice, perhaps?”
That was our drink on the plane. I don’t want to be tipsy, but I’m not going to lie. I could use something to quell the butterflies in my stomach. “I’d love one.”
Oliver fixes me a drink. “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since Thanksgiving,” he says. “So many times, I’ve wondered what would have happened had you taken my business card and called me afterward.”
I swallow. “Me too.” I gulp down my drink. �
��I’ve never had anal sex before.”
Smooth, Miki. Very sophisticated.
Neither of them laughs at me. Finn gives me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Miki,” he says. “You set the pace, okay?”
Okay. That’s good. Except I’m here, standing in the middle of Oliver’s living room, two of the hottest guys I’ve ever met on either side of me. We’re here to have sex, but I have no idea what to do next. Should I get naked? Should I suggest that we move this to the bedroom?
Oliver rescues me. “Do you play cards, Miki?” he asks, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Can I interest you in a game of strip poker?”
Yes. Especially if it involves Oliver and Finn taking their clothes off.
Oliver kicks off his shoes and sits down on the plush carpet, his back leaning against the couch. “Settle down,” he invites easily. “Make yourself comfortable, Miki, and prepare to lose.”
That makes me laugh. “You’re really cocky,” I tell him, sitting on the carpet as well. “For all you know, I might be a card shark.”
Finn folds himself down. “Are you?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Let’s find out.”
I win the first hand. “Ha,” I say triumphantly, as I set my cards down. “Full house.” I give Oliver a pointed look. “Take off your shirt, Oliver.”
He chuckles and complies. My throat goes dry as his body comes into view. He’s lean and tightly muscled, his chest sprinkled with hair. My eyes follow that trail lower until it disappears into his pants. “How,” I demand, “does someone who eats as many donuts as you have a six-pack? Life isn’t fair.”
He grins. “I assure you, it’s not effortless. This building has an indoor pool, and I put in my hours at the gym as well. Now, another hand?”
I might have won the first round, but it’s going to be near-impossible to win the next. I can’t be expected to concentrate when manchest is on display. Somewhat improbably though, I do end up winning again. I glare at Finn. “Did you throw your hand?” I demand.
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