Past Midnight

by Jasmine Haynes

  He tried to remember what he’d thought would excite her, the things he’d exaggerated or downright made up. “Give me a reminder.”

  “Two guys taking that woman between them.”

  “DP?”

  She rolled her eyes, still watching the tableau by the patio corner. “Glad you know all the lingo. Yes, double penetration.”

  “I made it up. They did her separately.”

  She looked at him then, arching a brow.

  “All three played together, sucking and kissing, but one of them did her first, then the other.”

  “You were a lot sexier at this over the phone.”

  He grinned. “Sorry. I’m out of practice.”

  A loud groan punctuated the laughter coming from the Jacuzzi. Moon-Ass was closing in on his climactic moment, and he followed the groan with a series of long grunts.

  Erin laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard that particular husky unselfconscious tone.

  “He sounds like those turtles we saw at the zoo,” she whispered, laughter in her words.

  The mating turtles. They’d gone at it for damn near half an hour. Jay had asked what they were doing. After the first few weeks, she didn’t bring up anything they’d done with Jay, as if all the memories had been expunged. She hadn’t even spoken Jay’s name and pulled up short if even the slightest reference reminded her. But here, she’d recalled that scene with the turtles. And she’d smiled at the memory. He didn’t comment, didn’t want to break the moment, saying instead, “Not as sexy as you hoped, huh.”

  “The night’s young.” Then she touched his arm, and her voice dipped to a seductive note. “Show me more.”

  6

  HER WORDS WERE MORE THAN DOMINIC COULD HAVE HOPED FOR, more than he’d dreamed. Back in the house, he led her to a vacant rattan sofa in the sunroom. The lighting here was more ambient, unlike the brightly lit, open-beamed living room on the other side of a set of open French doors.

  “Would you get me another, honey?” Erin waggled her empty champagne glass.

  When he returned, the silver-haired man had found her. Standing by a potted lemon tree, the guy hung back, watching her as Dominic passed.

  “Your wife is very beautiful.” His voice was a deep baritone Erin would love.

  “Yes, she is.”

  He was an inch or so shorter than Dominic, his eyes blue. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “I know.” Then he left the man and joined his beautiful wife on the sofa. She’d curled herself into the corner, kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.

  “What did he want?” she asked.

  “You.”

  She glanced at the man. He’d remained by the lemon tree. “Aren’t you jealous?”

  Dominic tried to gauge what she wanted. “Yes and no.” He tipped his head to take in the man. “Feeling a little possessive over you makes me hot. Makes me want to test my reactions.”

  She sighed, propped her elbow on the back of the couch and leaned her chin on her fist. Finally, her lips curved. Not quite a smile, but not a sneer either. He’d said the right thing.

  Another man, in his midfifties maybe, joined Silver Hair; they talked, then a young blonde dressed in blue laid her head on the older guy’s shoulder. Curling his arms around her waist, he squeezed her breast without even a break in his conversation. He strummed her nipple, pinching it until she was clinging to him just as Erin had hugged Dominic’s arm out on the patio. Silver Hair let his gaze pass between the blonde and Erin, as if suggesting he’d like to give Erin the same treatment.

  Erin laid her arm along the sofa back. “He’s touching her boob in front of everyone.” Her voice rose slightly on an incredulous high note. “It’s one thing out back on the patio in the dark, where it’s hard to make everything out. But here?”

  “Told ya you’d get an eyeful.”

  “Is that how it all starts?” She passed her tongue over her upper lip, leaving her lipstick glistening.

  “Sometimes it’s slow and subtle, others it’s damn near a free-for-all.” But Dominic liked Silver Hair’s style. Appreciative rather than slimy.

  “Oh my God.” This time her words were nothing more than a breath against him. He cocked his head, following her gaze.

  The man and woman she’d spotted weren’t hidden well. They probably didn’t mean to hide at all and merely found the ficus by the door a convenient place for her to drop to her knees out of the flow of foot traffic. Dominic couldn’t see her face, just a rear view of a trim body, dark hair tumbling down her bare back, and the soles of her high-heeled shoes as she unzipped her partner’s slacks. Closer to forty than thirty but in regular workout shape, his canary yellow polo shirt sported a team logo on the pocket. Dominic couldn’t read which one.

  Erin’s fingers bit into his arm as the kneeling woman drew out an exceptionally imposing cock, enough to make you turn in the men’s room with envy in your heart and whoa on your lips before you stopped yourself.

  “Whoa,” she whispered, echoing his thought.

  Dominic absorbed the voyeuristic gleam in her dilated eyes. Her breasts rose and fell, noticeably faster than before. He should have brought her here years ago. Then again, if he had, he would have nothing new or intriguing or mind-blowing to tempt her out of the shell she’d built around herself.

  He leaned in close, scenting the fragrant bath waters still lingering on her skin, and something more, something sensual; arousal. His balls tightened, his cock flexed, hardened. “Would you like to suck something as big as that?”

  She slid only her eyes to him, then back to the couple. “Size doesn’t matter.”

  He laughed. “Hell, yes, it does.”

  She shook her head, still watching. “It’s about how much he likes it, how much he wants what you do, not some other woman, but you and you alone.”

  Dominic had never thought about it that way. Maybe that was the difference between the sexes. He held her chin, the flutter of a rapid pulse at her throat, then captured her gaze. “You’re the best cocksucker I’ve ever had.”

  Emotions swept across her face. He couldn’t read them, but he sensed some good, some bad. The place was so perfect for seduction; decadent, hedonistic, the kind of atmosphere they’d talked about over the phone. He knew she’d been turned on by it back then. But that was before, another life. Tonight could backfire on him, push her further away.

  Yet the emotional distance between them couldn’t get any wider than it was in their own bed. What the fuck did he have to lose? He’d dreamed big as a kid, and bigger when he grew up. He had to dream big now.

  Feeling the scrutiny of the silver-haired man, Dominic trailed a finger down to the pulse beating at Erin’s throat, then followed the line of her bodice to the swell of her breast, rising, falling with each quickened breath. “I’d love to watch you suck cock.”

  “No way.”

  No way, he wouldn’t love it? Or no way, she’d never do it? He caught motion in his periphery. Then Silver Hair made his move, taking the chair next to Erin’s side of the rattan sofa.

  Dominic decided to put his fantasy to the test.

  “YOUR WIFE HAS GORGEOUS BREASTS.”

  “They’re absolutely perfect.” Dominic agreed with the man he’d pointed out to her earlier. “They’re very sensitive. She loves to have them pinched.”

  “Hard?” the man asked.

  “Mildly hard, not too much pain.”

  The man nodded, smiling slightly, looking at her nipples already beaded beneath the soft velvet.

  They talked about her like she was a sex object and didn’t have a thought to add to the conversation. Their gazes traced her curves as if she were nothing more than a piece of flesh. It was horrifyingly sexist.

  Erin was so wet she could feel the cream on the inside of her thighs.

  Mid- to late forties, the man was clean-shaven and darkskinned. The color was natural, not from the sun or a tanning salon, but speaking to a Mediterranean ancestry. His ey
es were a searing blue even in the relatively dim light of the sunroom.

  “Call me Winter,” he said. Somehow, the name seemed perfectly appropriate. “I heard what you said to her.”

  Dominic raised one dark brow.

  “That she was the best cocksucker you’ve ever had.”

  He must have been adept at reading lips because Dominic had not said that loudly enough to carry over the party noise.

  “The very best,” Dominic reiterated. He kept his hand moving on her as they spoke, her throat, shoulder, arm, thigh, his touch warm and so very there.

  Winter focused on her lips. “How many cocks has she sucked?”

  “We’ve been married a long time.” Dominic knew she’d had three lovers before they were married, but he revealed nothing.

  “I can tell.”

  She wondered how. It was more than the matching wedding rings.

  “I can smell her juice.” Winter dropped his voice. “I believe she will be so very sweet.”

  Under his penetrating gaze, her skin flushed, heat blossoming deep inside. But it was Dominic’s voice that made her feel wild. “Her pussy is beautiful. Pink and lush and plump when she’s aroused.”

  She sure as hell must be pink, lush, and plump right now.

  “A woman’s pussy is a beautiful thing.” Winter didn’t talk to her, he talked over her. Like a horse trader getting ready to put in a bid.

  A normal woman would have walked out on the two of them. She wasn’t normal. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to. Sex had become her crutch, a high to make her forget, and this was the biggest high of all. Her physical cravings had crossed some sort of line, and her needs were no longer about blotting out memories or emotions or guilt; they were about the sex itself, the heat of it, the desire.

  “What does she taste like?” Winter murmured, his voice low, sexy, setting her on fire.

  She held her breath waiting for Dominic’s answer.

  “Sweet yet tangy and succulent like fruit.”

  “Christ.” Winter unbuttoned his tux jacket as if he couldn’t breathe with it fastened. Beneath the pants, his cock filled the material, but he didn’t touch the bulge.

  “Do you want to know the thing I love best?” Dominic’s dark gaze fell to Erin’s lap.

  Yes, God, yes, she wanted to know. He’d seduced her like he’d done with his phone calls, making her breasts heavy and her clitoris throb. All the more so because he was telling another man the intimate secrets of their marriage.

  “Tell me,” Winter begged as if the dialogue were part of some male ritual.

  “I love it when she spreads her legs and masturbates for me.”

  Her ears hummed as if she were about to faint, and her arms tingled with pins and needles as her skin seemed to come alive, an entity all its own. The fast hard sex in the dark when she couldn’t sleep was nothing compared to this. This drowned out everything, even the guilt. Dominic’s eyes blazed with a heat she’d never seen before. His touch on her was searing. He’d seduced himself with his own words. They were far from home in an opulent fantasy world, and she wanted this, not the man, but the mindlessness, the pure physicality of it.

  “I want to watch her,” Winter murmured, his eyes on her, burning right through her dress.

  God help her, she hoped and feared that Dominic would tell her to do it.

  BRIGHT SPOTS COLORED HER CHEEKS, AND HER FLESH WAS HOT TO the touch, her breathing shallow, her focus narrowed to the curve of Winter’s lips.

  All Dominic had to do was say the word, and she would lift her skirt right there. The enormity of that power made him rock hard in his slacks.

  With mere words, he’d raised her to this level. His heart roared in his chest. This was better than two strangers watching them from afar. This was up close and personal, Winter imagining every move, losing himself in the description, wanting her.

  “The way she caresses herself.” Dominic went on, playing her, watching her, the heat in her eyes, a shot of fear that he’d make her do it. “Her abandon, as if I’m not even there. The way she rises and falls, her come all over her fingers.” He imagined he could scent her right now.

  “Christ,” Winter choked out, “you’re making me crazy.”

  “Sometimes I lean close and breathe her in. She’s intoxicating.” Dominic was so hard, his cock felt like it would explode with one touch. Her breasts rose rapidly, her skin flushed, then she bit down on her bottom lip. “It’s all I can do not to throw myself on her and fuck her.”

  She moaned. He was sure she didn’t even know and couldn’t have stopped it. “Nickie,” she whispered.

  He couldn’t wait for her another moment. He’d go crazy if he didn’t get inside her. But not here, despite all the fantasizing they’d done. He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t balk at the last moment, and he wasn’t willing to risk it. Gathering her hand in his, he rose, tugging her with him. Winter’s eyes followed the move.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go fuck my wife.” Beside him, Erin stepped into the high heels she’d kicked off earlier.

  A light danced in the other man’s eyes. “Thank you for the brief moments of pleasure. I don’t think anything else will prove quite as entertaining tonight.” He didn’t seem the least disturbed by the blatant cock tease. “I’ll be imagining the look of her while you ride her hard.”

  “Perhaps she’ll ride.” Then he pulled Erin along behind him, shouldering through a group blocking the sunroom door.

  “I can’t believe you did that.” She didn’t resist, though. He assumed her words were for show.

  “It was hot.”

  “You treated me like I was a piece of meat.”

  He crossed the marble lobby, turning at the first stair. “I told him exactly how beautiful and perfect you are.”

  Everything about her seemed brighter, sharper, as if she’d been sleepwalking through the last year, and he’d suddenly shaken her awake.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered, aware of eyes on them, a couple of newcomers arriving, a small group passing from the living room to the buffet. Then a raucous surge of laughter from the open room at the back caught their greedy attention, something better than a married couple heading upstairs to fuck in private.

  “Why didn’t you do it in front of him?”

  He thought about picking her up and taking the steps two at a time like Rhett carrying Scarlett. “You’re not ready.”

  Something sparked in her eyes. “I’m ready for this.” Then she was the one pulling him up the stairs, taking the left fork. At the top, she started opening and closing doors. Until she found what she wanted and dragged him in.

  7

  “DO IT HERE,” SHE DEMANDED.

  The aliveness of her emotions swamped him, reflected off the mirrored bathroom walls. She was everywhere, all around him, back, front, side, black velvet dress, stockings, high heels, red hair, scarlet cheeks and lips. He hauled her up on the pale blue marbled countertop between the twin sinks with gold taps. Amid fancy hand towels and baskets of soaps in the shape of dolphins, he shoved her skirt up her thighs, thrusting his hand between her legs.

  Question answered: thigh highs and thong panties. He pulled aside the crotch. “Christ, you’re wet.”

  She gripped his forearm with one hand and cradled the bulge of his cock. “And you’re hard.”

  He circled her clit, watched her lids drop. “You wanted to spread your legs for him.”

  “I wouldn’t have done it even if you’d begged me,” she challenged, the belligerence in her tone part of the game, an element of the seduction.

  He fit two fingers in her channel, found her G-spot, reveled in the gasp that fell from her lips. “You drooled looking at his cock. You wanted it.”

  She yanked his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his cock. “You were afraid I’d say yes, then you wouldn’t have known what the hell to do.”

  He loved the fight in her and didn’t care why it enflamed him. “What i
f I’d told him to pay me to have a go at you?”

  She flooded his hand with moisture, her breath puffing. “He wouldn’t have enough money for what I’m worth.” She squeezed his cock, spread her legs wider, wrapped her calves around his ass to draw him in.

  “You would have done it for free, that’s how hot you were for him.”

  Fire blazed in her eyes, rushed across her skin. “You have no idea how hot I am.” She tugged his hand from her pussy and snugged his hips close, the tip of his cock grazing her clit. “Be a man,” she ordered. “Take care of my needs.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or I’ll go downstairs and find the man who can.”

  “He’s already found someone to replace you.” There would be no one ever to replace her.

  Hands on her butt, he impaled her. She gasped, and her head fell back, hair caressing his knuckles, eyes closed. The warmth of her enclosed him, filled him, renewed him.

  Bracing her hands on the counter behind her, she met his thrusts, forcing him deeper. “You can do better than that.”

  Part of him wanted to laugh. He’d needed her to talk to him, say something, anything, and, holy hell, she was, insulting him every which way. It was fucking hot for no apparent reason.

  “You can’t take it harder,” he growled.

  She wrapped one arm around him, pulled him close, and bit his shoulder through his shirt. “Excuses, excuses.”

  The mirror steamed with the close heat of their bodies. Someone knocked on the locked door. Her skin smelled like sweet champagne as if it oozed from her pores, and he felt his orgasm build in his balls.

  “You can’t do it,” she whispered as if it were a sweet nothing. “You can’t take me. You can’t make me come.” Yet she moaned, breathing harsh, eyes closed, and her fingers fisted in his hair so tightly his scalp ached. In that moment, her body squeezing his cock, his orgasm damn near shot out of control as the tremors of her climax threatened to drag him with her.

  But there was one last thing he had to have. Hand in her hair, pulling her head back, he took her mouth, forced his tongue past her lips, steeped himself in her taste, kissing her, devouring her.