OvercomingtheNeed

Home > Other > OvercomingtheNeed > Page 8
OvercomingtheNeed Page 8

by Zenobia Renquist


  And that would be the main reason Dane had okayed Naomie posing for Arisa. The catalog didn’t leave Arisa’s shop. Luke had a similar lockdown policy on his copy. Customers showing intent got to see it. No one else. That meant there was no chance Naomie’s parents could see it by accident, like they had with her short-lived career as an internet-store clubwear model. Plus Arisa had bribed Dane with a very delicious cherry-covered chocolate layer cake. His favorite.

  Fred said, “Spousal privilege. Those rules don’t apply to me.”

  Arisa nodded. “Absolutely right.”

  More grumbling met that declaration.

  Naomie held out her arms. “Why would you want to stare at a picture when I’m standing right here?”

  Fred palmed Naomie’s ass again. “Because you’re not covered in Arisa’s signature buttercream icing with a banana shoved up your snatch.”

  One of the guys called, “We could change that.”

  Arisa said over the shouts of agreement, “No, we cannot. I came here to relax, not work. You want to cover Naomie in buttercream then do it on your own time or apply for a job at my bakery and hope she shows up for another photo session.”

  Javier, one of Luke’s workers, said, “Or you could apply to work with Luke. Naomie has already promised to do some layouts for the new Asian-infusion line.”

  Naomie said, “That I have. Just have to get with Luke about scheduling. This time around I get to eat some of the food too, damn it. I was starving by the time Arisa and her crew finished with me.” She shot Javier a look that said she wasn’t joking.

  He held up his hands and backed up a step. “Whoa. Whoa. Don’t look at me. You have to take that up with the boss. I’m just the hired help.”

  “Luke isn’t going to be one of the ones eating me. You will. I’m holding you personally responsible for making sure I get fed. If I don’t, you will be the one explaining why to Dane. Capisce?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Javier’s grin wavered a little, as if he were trying for serious and failing.

  Fred said, “That’s not an idle threat either. We played with Naomie without feeding her once and Dane was not happy. A not-happy Dane is a scary Dane. Gave me chills. Makes me glad he doesn’t hit women.”

  Naomie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Yeah, Dane had been pissed that she came home starving, irritable from lack of nourishment and in no mood for sex of any kind until she got fed, but he’d vented his spleen by giving Arisa and the others a piece of his mind over the phone. The storm blew over, Naomi got to eat, Dane got sex and the Tuesday get-togethers got food courtesy of Arisa from that day forward. No casualties to report, though the women had developed a new respect for Dane and his temper.

  He was a slow burn but he exploded when someone got him hot enough. The food incident had been a six on the ten-point bad-mood scale. The denial of sex had ratcheted it up a few more points. Hardly worth mentioning now except Fred was trying to make Javier sweat. Succeeding too.

  Javier swallowed his grin, replacing it with a worried expression, and nodded quickly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Fred said, “You do that.” She faced Naomie and licked her lips, rolling the ball of her tongue ring over her teeth. “Now then.”

  Before Fred could pounce on her, Naomie held up her hand and backed up a step. “No you don’t.”

  “Playing hard to get, baby doll?”

  “Playing with someone else for a change.” Naomie gestured to the crowd. “Them, for instance.”

  Arisa said, “She has a point, honey. You see her every Tuesday. Let someone else have a chance.”

  Fred acted as if she might argue but heaved a sigh while rolling her eyes. “Fine. I’ll back off so long as you promise to wear that swimsuit next Tuesday.”

  Naomie laughed. “I can do that.”

  “Minus the plug.”

  “Ask Dane.”

  Fred cursed under her breath.

  Arisa shook her head. “Would you come on? I saw a nice blonde you can play with.” She grabbed Fred’s hand and started away.

  Naomie said, “Don’t be too rough on her.”

  Fred waved over her shoulder. Whether that was a simple acknowledgment or an agreement, Naomie couldn’t tell. She hoped the blonde had come to this party knowing sex would ensue or else she was about to get a fun surprise.

  A sharp whistle with a wavering intonation that sounded familiar drew Naomie’s attention to a man sitting on one of the lounge chairs farthest from the house. She smiled wide. “Logan?”

  “Hiya.” Logan sat straddling the chair with his arms open wide. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Oh my God.” Naomie trotted over to him. She leaned down for a tight but awkward hug. “Logan, it has been forever and a day. How have you been? Where have you been?”

  “Take a load off.” He patted the spot in front of him.

  Naomie sat sideways between his legs with her hands resting on his bare chest. Logan was an old college buddy who Naomie had met through Dane and Luke. They’d attended a lot of the same parties, which meant Logan was intimately acquainted with Naomie, but the closeness had been regulated to random exchanges over social networks. She hadn’t seen him since graduation night.

  The years had sprinkled some gray through his dark-brown hair and he’d grown a goatee. Beyond those changes, his body looked and felt the same—slim and soft. He’d probably maintained his college habits. Naomie remembered he hadn’t been a fan of working out, but his on-the-go lifestyle back then hadn’t left him time to gain weight. That must not have changed.

  His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at her. “I wrangled some vacation time and managed to end up in town in time for Luke and Damon’s party. Funny how I travel all over the world at the drop of a hat with a minimum of fuss but I try to plan one leisure trip and it all goes to crap. But you don’t want to hear about that. I’m here. That’s all that counts. I see you haven’t changed. Still showing off that hot body and gathering a mass of horny fans.”

  “What can I say? The bad habits are the hardest to break.” She shrugged. “If I were trying to break them. Enough about me. What about you? You didn’t tell me you were in town. I would have noticed that on your wall if you had posted it.”

  “You didn’t notice because I didn’t post it. I wanted to be a surprise. I told Dane and Luke to zip it.” He held out his arms again. “Surprise.”

  “You’re a wonderful surprise. I didn’t think this evening, hell this day, could get any more perfect.”

  Logan rested one hand on her side. “I know a way it can.”

  “Oh?” She inched closer to him. “Tell me about it.”

  “Sit back and I’ll do just that.”

  Naomie turned and lifted her feet onto the chair while leaning back against Logan’s chest. He reclined with his hands resting on her stomach and his erection pressing against her lower back. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “Happy to see me?”

  “Always. You know that. So what’s this I overhear about your suit going see-through when wet?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. Want to give it a try?” She skimmed her hand between her legs. She was sure that part of her suit had long since gone transparent as advertised. Being close to Logan with the promise of pleasure on the horizon meant her swimsuit would stay like that for a while.

  “I do indeed but not with water. As you might know, these transparent-when-wet swimsuits sometimes dry too fast after you get out of the water. The show’s over before it’s barely begun. Oil, which is wet, doesn’t dry and so the suit will retain its see-through quality longer.”

  “That’s ideal.”

  Logan reached to the table beside him and picked up a bottle. “I just so happen to have some body oil someone left lying around.”

  “Just so happen, huh?”

  “Yup. It’s not like I went and bought it after Dane gave me a heads-up about your suit when I called to touch base earlier. Complete coincidence.”

 
“Uh huh.” Naomie rubbed her hands up and down the tops of his thighs while slowly snaking her torso. “Funny how coincidences like that happen.”

  “I know, right? I’m happy it did though. You, me, oil and this swimsuit—sounds like the recipe for making this day perfect. What do you think?”

  “I think you might be right. I won’t know until we test your hypothesis.”

  “Fair enough.” Logan flipped the bottle top open with the edge of his thumb and then poured a stream of oil between Naomie’s breasts.

  The suit soaked up the oil, turning transparent as it did. Logan aimed the oil for her right nipple and then her left. Both were partially visible already but the oil put them on full display.

  “Very nice.” Logan smoothed his free hand over her breasts, spreading the oil. “I see you’re still wearing your engagement ring.”

  “Like Dane would let me take it off.”

  “True enough. I’m surprised you didn’t get a matching one for the right nipple. Balance and all that. Or maybe…” He trailed off as he guided the stream of oil down between her legs. “A clit ring, perhaps?”

  “I thought about it.” Naomie parted her thighs. Logan couldn’t see the effect of the oil but the people in the pool had a great view. She rubbed her hand over her slit as they watched her. “The amount of sexual caution needed during the aftercare period made it a no-go. I might have been game but Dane made it seem like he would abstain, and make me abstain, until I was completely healed with no possible chance of an infection.”

  “You abstaining?”

  “Exactly. I did that once. Dane and I both did for the month leading up to our wedding. Something to make the wedding night hot. Nothing together, obviously, and nothing alone. Not even a quick flick to take the edge off. I vowed never again. I was almost ready to tear my hair out.”

  After pouring some oil on his left hand, Logan capped the bottle and put it aside. He rubbed his hands together. Trails of oil dripped through his fingers onto the already saturated swimsuit. “You didn’t look hard up to me. I remember your walk down the aisle. You were smiling so big I thought you had a vibrator shoved up your pussy.”

  Naomie started to tell him what had put that smile on her face but Logan sat up, pushing her forward. She glanced back at him in question. The answer came in the form of him easing his hands into the open back of her swimsuit and around her sides so he could cup her breasts without the swimsuit in his way.

  She arched into his touch with a soft sigh of contentment. His fingers slipped and slid over her skin as he kneaded her breasts in a sensual massage. She opened her legs wider, an invitation to anyone who wanted to partake.

  Logan guided her back so she lay against him again. He dropped kisses on her neck and shoulders and nibbled at her right ear. His heavy, hot breath tickled her but Naomie resisted the urge to pull away. She was rewarded with a few quick nipple pinches for enduring.

  Scooting to the side and tilting her head back, Naomie put herself in the perfect position to receive Logan’s kiss. He licked his lips before delving his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. She yipped and wiggled her hips when a finger that didn’t belong to Logan poked her clit.

  The owner of that finger repeated the motion one more time before making tiny circles. Naomie moaned deep in her throat. She wanted the touch to be direct but the swimsuit added a level of titillation to the contact she couldn’t deny.

  Logan said, “You’ve got an admirer.”

  She swiveled her gaze to Maki, who knelt between Naomie’s legs and owned the finger teasing her clit. Maki had her free hand down the front of her bikini bottoms. A man Naomie didn’t recognize stood behind Maki, availing himself of her breasts the way Logan did Naomie’s. The man had opted for untying Maki’s top and letting it flop below her small, pert breasts.

  If it hadn’t meant breaking contact with Logan, Naomie might have leaned forward so she could suck Maki’s nipples to find out if they tasted as good as they appeared. The tan buds were begging for some oral attention. Someone other than Naomie would have to oblige them.

  She glanced around and noticed similar scenarios happening in and around the pool. People had paired up or squeezed into small groping groups. She was happy for that. For a while there, she’d thought she might end up being the center of attention. It was a status she loved but usually with a smaller number of people. She was happy to play with Maki and Logan and possibly Maki’s friend, whoever he was.

  Logan focused her attention back on him by freeing his right hand and edging the crotch of Naomie’s swimsuit to the side. He displaced Maki, taking over her spot and rubbing Naomie’s clit in a quick strumming motion.

  Naomie cried out her delight—a cry that turned into a purring moan when Maki slipped a single finger into Naomie’s channel. Maki seemed to be testing again, probably making sure Naomie was okay with being touched. Naomie rocked her hips as a way of giving permission.

  With a smile, Maki added a second finger as she shuffled closer. She made a rapid beckoning motion that hit Naomie in just the right spot for the sensation to reverberate with Logan’s ministrations. From the way Maki’s other hand moved inside her bikini bottoms, she mimicked what she did to Naomie on herself.

  The man behind Maki bent and put one hand inside her bottoms as well. Whether he stroked Maki’s clit or added a finger to the ones already inside her, Naomie couldn’t tell, but Maki’s throaty rumble of pleasure said she liked it.

  Logan said in an amused tone, “Typical Naomie. When you’re around, sex happens.”

  “That’s why you like me.” Naomie reached back, curved her hands around Logan’s shoulders and pulled him down for another kiss.

  He darted his tongue around hers while he and Maki worked together to coax free Naomie’s orgasm. It wouldn’t take much more. She was still sensitive from the not-so-quickie Dane had insisted on prior to the party.

  Maki’s escalating sounds of excitement set Naomie off. It was auditory stimulation at its finest and Naomie got off on it. She clutched at Logan while whimpering against his mouth, as her release made her jut her pussy against Maki’s fingers. Logan caressed her clit faster, holding Naomie in the sensation and making her push up so she could get closer and have more.

  “Yes! Yes!” Maki’s voice was high and reedy. She came bent over Naomie with her face pressed to Naomie’s belly. She removed her fingers from Naomie’s channel so she could claw at the lounge chair.

  Logan ended the kiss with a lick to Naomie’s nose and a grin. He rested his fingers against her slit. “Good as I remember.”

  “I’m glad I met your expectations.” She pressed her lips to his chin.

  The man behind Maki said, “Look. Someone brought a pool noodle.”

  Naomie looked at the double-headed dildo he held and had to shake her head. Maki’s hopeful expression wouldn’t change her mind. Naomie said, “Maybe later. I need to find out what my husband is up to.”

  “Ah, come on, Naomie.” Despite his plea, Logan slid his hand off her breast and out of her swimsuit.

  She patted his knee as she swung her legs off the chair and stood. “Don’t let me ruin your fun. Maki is a great lay. I’m sure you and…” She looked at the other man.

  “Ross,” the man said. “Maki’s roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Turning back to Logan, Naomie said, “I’m sure you and Ross will have plenty of fun without me.”

  Logan said, “Not as much.”

  “Sorry.” She gave him a quick kiss and then left before he could offer more arguments against her leaving.

  Naomie put the crotch of her swimsuit back into place as she walked. She had to dodge around people having sex, a few of whom paused to touch her and invite her to join them, on her way to the house. She would almost feel bad about the party going this route except Luke and Damon had supplied a small buffet table of various condoms. They knew the crowd they hung out with and had prepared accordingly.

 
The warmth of the house was welcome. Now that she wasn’t hot from being fondled, the cool night air had mixed with the oil dampening her swimsuit. Naomie shivered and wished she hadn’t left her tunic in the car. She’d also left a change of clothes there—Dane too—but she wanted to make sure the evening was over before swapping outfits.

  The house was empty. It seemed everyone had opted to stay out at the pool. The clink of ice against a glass and labored breathing drew Naomie to an entertainment room down the hall from the living room. She would have to tell Luke and Damon how much she loved their house—what she’d seen of it. It was gorgeous. She was almost jealous. Almost. Luke and Damon didn’t have a window wall like Naomie and Dane did. She wouldn’t trade that for a heated pool. Part of being an exhibitionist was showing off. The window made that possible. A pool, not so much.

  Naomie entered the room and found Luke kneeling on the cushions of his curved couch with Dane behind him, pumping his hips fast. The breathing she’d heard was Luke. He was draped over the back of his couch with his head resting on his arms and a euphoric expression on his face.

  A few feet away, Damon leaned against the counter of the bar setup, wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a cotton shirt that said Laziness Is an Art Form. Naomie guessed he’d picked the shirt to be ironic because he was far from lazy. She didn’t know anyone who worked harder.

  Damon was a virtual assistant. His job meant putting up with picky, sensitive clients and long hours in front of a computer. It showed. He was like Fred, padded but not fat. The medium tan of his skin was natural from his mixed parentage or else he would be much lighter due to lack of sun. He kept his hair cut in a short style that was easy to maintain and opted for loose jeans and cotton shirts that featured fictional characters or funny sayings.

  He was a path-of-least-resistance type of guy who bowed to Luke’s compelling personality at every opportunity because he liked seeing his husband happy. In this instance, Naomie didn’t feel that was a good habit to have. Damon watched Dane and Luke with a drink clutched in his hands and a scowl on his face.

  Apprehension slithered up Naomie’s spine. Luke had said he’d convinced Damon to say yes but she wondered if Damon now regretted giving permission.

 

‹ Prev