by Mari Carr
Asher broke off the kiss, his eyes never leaving her face, even as he spoke to Owen.
“Grab the comforters from the bed, Owen. Put them on the floor.”
She felt a chill as cold air hit her back at Owen’s disappearance. She’d been so snug between them she’d felt almost feverish.
Asher pulled her hair again, but this time he wasn’t kissing her. He was watching her.
Her eyes drifted closed and she shuddered.
“Why does that feel so good? It should hurt.”
Asher didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. The gentle gesture worked as a counterpoint to his rougher touches.
Everything he did felt like it was a contradiction.
“Asher.”
Asher released her and they both looked toward Owen, who’d built them a cozy nest in the center of the floor with all the comforters, blankets and pillows in the room.
Once again, Fiona felt overwhelmed. Standing naked in front of them was one thing, watching them undress and then lying down between them was another.
Her opinion of her aunts Lily and Lauren rose several notches.
A quick glance at Owen proved he was having the same thoughts. Like her, Owen wasn’t lacking in the confidence department, but there was no mistaking the uncertainty on his face.
She offered him the same encouragement he’d given her. She winked.
He chuckled, then reached for the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it over his head.
Damn. That might have been too much encouragement. Her heart started to race—with nervousness and excitement.
A shirtless Owen wasn’t an unusual site, but that didn’t soften the impact. The guy was ripped, like movie-star ripped, like PhotoShopped ripped, like—
“You got a little drool right there, Fee,” Owen said, pointing to the side of his mouth.
Before she could come up with some witty rejoinder, Asher chuckled and walked toward their makeshift bed on the floor. He began to unbutton his shirt, and every smart-ass thing she wanted to say flew out of her head.
Fiona’s gaze was glued on his fingers as, button by button, he revealed more of his chest. She wondered if they could hear her heart pounding because it was deafening her.
Asher shrugged his shirt off and tossed it toward her bed, then he took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand.
So long Clark Kent. Hello Superman.
The three of them stood there for a moment, a silent standoff. Fiona’s mind was whirling, touching on a thousand different things in a split second.
Her brain whizzed around like the pieces on a Candy Land board. She landed at Holy Hotness Times Two Town, traveled through What the Hell Am I Doing Grove, boogied across the How the Fuck Does This Work Bridge and finally drew a What Now card.
“So…what’s next?” They were the same words Owen had used earlier, and now she knew why. It was the only thing she could think to say.
Asher smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come here, Fiona.”
Her feet started moving before her brain. She walked over to him, then let him hold her hand as she knelt on top of the comforters. Asher followed her down, the two of them sitting beside each other. Owen was slower to join them, not moving until they both looked up at him.
And suddenly she was struck by the sense that he wasn’t as all-in as she’d thought.
That concern was eased when Owen knelt, then reached out to take her hand, squeezing it before raising it to his mouth and kissing the tips of her fingers. Using his grip on her hand, he pulled it across his chest, over his nipples, along the tight plane of his stomach.
“Lay down.” Asher’s request—no, he was using the power voice again, which made it a demand—distracted her.
Oh shit.
Moment of truth.
She licked her lips but all the moisture in her mouth had completely evaporated. When had this shifted from exciting to terrifying?
Before she could consider that or act on Asher’s command, Owen cupped her face to turn it toward him. He kissed her, and she tried to let the sweetness of it soothe her, calm her down.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work—and panic started to set in.
This wasn’t right.
Was it?
She turned her head away, her eyes connecting with Asher’s.
He took one look at her face and frowned. “Wait,” he said, when Owen made a move to resume their kiss.
Owen stilled, then looked at her. Really looked at her. “Fee?”
“Can we take a second?” she asked, feeling foolish. She’d been the one to invite them to her bedroom. She’d given them the green light.
Asher reached for her hand, his fingers caressing it, his thumb massaging her palm in a surprisingly soothing way. “We can take as long as you need,” Asher said, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “We can also stop.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I just need to catch up and…” She blew out a long breath. “This is sort of intimidating. I mean, there’s one of me and two of…” Fiona pointed toward their crotches and both men laughed.
She narrowed her eyes, though she wasn’t really mad. “I mean it. Happy Clam is the only entrance down there, as far as she’s concerned, and I have to respect her feelings on that matter. Which leaves us with one lightsaber dangling while—”
“I wouldn’t say dangling,” Owen interrupted, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
She laughed—and her sudden attack of nerves vanished just like that.
No matter what happened tonight, these guys were always going to be her friends.
The second the truth of that sank in, everything that was freaking her out faded away. She was being silly, overreacting. Owen and Asher cared about her. They could make this work.
Maybe.
“Well, they do say two heads are better than one,” she joked, trying to distract them from her momentary lapse.
Owen cracked up, but Asher, typical lovely man, wouldn’t let her moment of panic slide by so easily.
“No sex tonight,” Asher said.
“Wait.” Now that she’d turned a corner, she didn’t want them to make any hasty decisions.
“No. I’m serious,” Asher insisted. “We’ll fool around, make out, test some boundaries. Owen and I will leave our pants on. If this still feels right in the morning, we’ll go all the way. Okay?”
Owen didn’t hesitate to agree. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Fiona tilted her head, wishing she weren’t so relieved. That response seemed pretty telling. “What about your lightsaber?”
Owen made a sound she assumed was meant to be him turning off the weapon. “Schoom.”
“It’s that easy?” she asked, feeling a wee bit guilty for putting the brakes on so suddenly.
He shook his head. “I wish. But some things are worth waiting for.”
Leave it to her oaf of a friend to find the perfect thing to say.
“Come on. Let’s all lay down,” Asher suggested.
They moved as a unit and now that sex was off the table, Fiona could simply enjoy the moment, the closeness, the warmth.
She lay on her back and both men turned to face her. Owen kissed her as Asher played with her breasts, then bent his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth.
Fiona placed a hand on the back of each of their heads, running her fingers through their hair, taking time to study their differences. Owen’s hair was longer and softer, while Asher’s was much thicker.
That was as far as her studies took her before Asher playfully sank his teeth into her sensitive nipple, just hard enough to provoke a gasp.
Owen studied her face before looking down. “Take it easy on her, Ash.”
“I’m fine,” she hastened to say, afraid Asher would take Owen’s suggestion to heart.
Owen gave her a crooked grin. “Kinky girl.”
She snorted. “I wish.”
Their conversation ended there—because Asher bit ha
rder.
Her back arched involuntarily, the action like a mallet against the knee.
“God!” she cried out. “That’s so…” A million words floated through her brain. Teddy called her the Queen of Vocabulary, and she was almost sorry he wasn’t there to hear this list. It was a doozy.
Incredible. Stimulating. Intense. Amazing. Mind-blowing. Spectacular. Astonishing. Fucktastic.
Finally, she just landed on the easiest one to say. “Hot.”
“We’re just getting started,” Asher murmured.
She sucked in a loud breath when he reached down, his fingers sliding under the elastic of her thong. He wasted no time finding her clit, pressing and rubbing until she saw honest-to-God stars.
“Asher.” His name came out with a gasp.
“That’s right, Fee. Say my name. Let me hear you scream it when you come.”
8
Asher wanted to kick his own ass the second he’d suggested no sex. Not because it wasn’t the right thing to do, but because it was going to leave him in some serious physical pain later on. Blue balls weren’t a good thing. Ever.
Regardless, he would deal with it because he wasn’t going to screw up this chance with Fiona.
And Owen.
Asher had to keep remembering that Owen was a part of this too.
He’d like to say having his best friend in the room with them was a turn-on, but it wasn’t. However, it wasn’t a buzzkill, either. It was just…different. Something that would take some getting used to.
He hoped he got used to it.
The twinges of jealousy he felt watching Owen as he kissed her or touched her were still there, but it was getting easier to push the feeling away.
Okay. It wasn’t easier, but he’d get there. He had to. He was as committed to protecting his friendship with Owen as he was to claiming Fiona’s heart.
And it wasn’t like his sex life hadn’t been one big experiment in exploration anyway. Christina Saunders hadn’t only been his Creative Writing teacher, she’d been his instructor in the bedroom as well. She’d exposed him to tantric sex, guided him through most of the positions in the Kama Sutra, and as a member of a local sex club, she’d enrolled them in classes on shibari and wax play.
The more he learned, the more his dominant side began to emerge—a fact that delighted Christina as much as it bothered her.
She enjoyed his dominance in the bedroom—on occasion—but it wasn’t something Asher could turn on and off. And that was when they’d both realized the pupil had outgrown the teacher.
Unfortunately, he and Christina had never brought another person to the bed, never included another man—or woman—in their play. So he was going to have to figure this one out on his own.
Owen stopped playing with her breasts, his gaze glued to where Asher’s hand had slipped beneath Fiona’s thong.
She was absolutely beautiful, Asher’s idea of feminine perfection, though he knew there were parts of herself that she viewed as anything less than ideal. Her plump, full breasts fit his hand perfectly, while her figure was more straight than hourglass. She sometimes mentioned her longing for curves. Every time she did, he’d reminded her she was jogging them off. He wasn’t wrong. Her legs were lean, slim, muscular, and he’d give a million dollars right now to have them wrapped around his waist. Or his shoulders.
“Grab her wrists, Owen. Hold them above her head.”
Owen didn’t hesitate to do as asked. Asher dreamed of tying Fiona to his headboard, of keeping her on the edge of a climax for hours while he—fuck, they—played with her. She liked it when he pulled her hair. It gave him hope that she’d like to try other, kinkier things.
Fiona was a true Collins, a grab-life-by-the-horns type of girl. In truth, it wasn’t her penchant for bedroom adventures he was worried about.
It was Owen’s.
His friend had one wrist in each hand, sort of awkwardly holding them up. The position meant he was blocking Fiona’s view of what Asher was doing.
He knelt up, gesturing for Owen to release her. Asher grasped her arms, crisscrossing her wrists above her head so he could hold her in place with just one hand. He demonstrated for Owen.
“This way.” Asher reached down with his free hand and pinched one of Fiona’s nipples. She gasped, then moaned. “So you can still play with her.”
Owen nodded that he understood and Asher released her, letting Owen take over. Shifting back between her legs, Asher tugged off her thong.
“Open your legs, princess.”
She did as he said without comment or delay. Asher took a second to study her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was no denying she liked the idea of being held down, captured. He’d tried to initiate a capture fantasy with Christina one night, but she’d lost her shit, then spent the next two hours guiding him through feminist literature and trying to convince him his desires were wrong. The night ended with him binding her in shibari rope, withholding her orgasm until she’d admitted she was wrong. It was one of the hottest, most sexually charged nights of their relationship.
It was also the beginning of the end, the moment they both realized the writing on the wall had changed.
Asher lifted Fiona’s legs, tugging her knees over his shoulders just as he desired, and he bent down to place a kiss on her clit. He’d anticipated Fiona’s hip-jerking reaction, so his hand was pressed firmly on her stomach, holding her to the floor.
He upped the ante, sucking her clit into his mouth, then nipping at the distended flesh with his teeth. Through it all, she struggled to move, to drive her pussy closer to his mouth, trying to grab more.
“God, Ash…”
He glanced up, wanting to see her face, but his eyes met Owen’s. Owen still held her wrists, his free hand lazily caressing her breasts. Clearly, he was too distracted by what Asher was doing to concentrate on his own actions.
“Suck on her breast. Play with the nipple.” Asher had just gotten out of a relationship because he was tired of playing the student. He really didn’t want to get into one where he took on the role of teacher.
Owen responded, his head lowering to take her nipple into his mouth. Fiona sighed, Owen’s touch decidedly gentler than his, if her almost-relaxed reaction was anything to judge by.
Asher took a deep breath and pushed his wayward thoughts away. It was only their first night. They had all the time in the world to learn each other’s hot buttons, to explore and grow.
He took her clit back into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside her.
“Yes,” Fiona hissed when he drove deep, pumping in and out several times. She was wet, her pussy on fire, and once again, he cursed himself for promising no sex. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to lose himself in all that heat, let her burn him, scorch him.
Fiona started to tremble, her inner muscles clenching against his fingers. She was close.
He withdrew before she could get there.
“No! Wait,” she cried out.
He shook his head as he rose, kneeling between her legs. “No. You’re going to wait.”
Her forehead creased briefly with confusion before her eyes flashed with irritation. “Asher. Be a good boy and put your fingers back inside me.”
He laughed. “Oh, princess. That’s never going to work with me.”
And then, because she had the devil in her, Fiona flashed her bright baby blues at Owen. “Owen, sweetie, you’re nicer than Asher. Everyone knows that. Knock that meanie out of the way and take over down there.”
Owen, the asshole, actually looked like he was considering it.
“Don’t let go of her hands, Owen.”
Owen’s grip tightened—and for the first time, Fiona actually struggled against it.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I was close, Ash. Like, really close. Painfully close.”
“If you want it quick and merely satisfying, say the word. Owen and I can leave and you can grab your vibrator. If you want to take your time, let it build while
we kiss, lick, suck and bite every inch of you until you explode in our arms, we’re doing this my way.”
Fiona stopped trying to free her hands from Owen’s grip.
“Damn, man,” Owen murmured. “That sounds fucking hot.”
Asher grinned, but Fiona didn’t. Instead, she was nibbling on her lower lip and, for a second, he thought she was actually trying to decide which route to go.
“Seriously?” Owen muttered. “The answer isn’t obvious?”
She shot him a dirty look. “It is. I’m just…I’m not used to denying myself. Anything, really. Food, shoes, purses, orgasms. If I want it, I get it.”
Asher nodded solemnly. “I know. You’re spoiled.”
She scowled. “Not because I make other people buy everything for me. I work damn hard for my salary, which happens to be a great one.”
“And your parents are richer than God,” Owen added.
“Fuck you, Owen.”
The three of them cracked up as Asher lay back down beside Fiona, and Owen released her hands. Fiona sighed, clearly thinking they were taking a breather.
Asher had other plans in mind. He liked keeping her off-balance, on guard, for the very reasons she’d just stated. Fiona lived a life of self-gratification, and it was becoming pretty obvious Brock had simply given her whatever she wanted in bed without challenging her, pushing her limits.
Reaching down, Asher unbuckled his belt, sliding it from the loops, allowing the whishing sound to fill the silence.
Fiona’s eyes followed the movement of his hands as he sat up and reached for her wrists once more.
“Wait,” she said.
“I can use the belt to bind your hands or to spank your ass. Don’t tell me to wait one more time. If you don’t like something I’m doing, tell me no and I’ll stop. Always. But if it’s something you want, don’t pretend you don’t.”
“Wow,” she said.
He tilted his head. “Wow what?”
Fiona opened her mouth, but no sound came out, so Owen answered the question. “You are one scary fucker. And I’m pretty sure Fiona’s as turned on by it as I am.”
