by Sami Lee
He pleasured her right there in the kitchen, hoisting her onto the counter and feasting on the cream that dripped from her pussy. Then he took her to bed and stretched her body with his, twice, before they even thought of dinner. They ordered Chinese food and stayed up late watching movies—Erica made him sit through How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, for which he declared she owed him a favor. They tussled that one out in bed and Corey didn’t leave until morning lit the sky.
At no time during those hours did Erica ask him to give the key back.
Two nights later she arrived home to find a note stuck to her fridge.
Red,
You never did get those smoke alarms replaced, did you? Bad, bad girl. Have gone to get stuff to cook dinner, your pantry is in a sad state. No end to your sins, is there? I’ll be back in a bit to feed you and discuss appropriate punishment. Warm up for me, G.
While Erica tried to control her wild speculations about what Griff meant by appropriate punishment, she walked from room to room. Her old alarms had been replaced by some state-of-the-art-looking system that would probably go off if one of her neighbors lit a cigarette. Erica battled to keep the spark of her annoyance alive, but it suffocated beneath the heavy weight of her arousal. Griff was coming back and he wanted her warm for his punishment.
By the time he walked in the door, Erica had showered and changed into a more casual skirt and top that Griff seemed to appreciate. She’d already surpassed warm, and her body teetered on the edge of spontaneously combusting all through dinner. But Griff talked about his day, asked her about hers, discussed world politics and conspicuously said nothing about his note or his intentions until Erica burst out impatiently, “What did you mean by punishment?”
Griff merely arched his brows as though he had no idea what she was talking about.
“In your note.” Erica scowled. “You said you’d be back to discuss appropriate punishment because I’m apparently a poor housekeeper.”
“Oh, that.” He grinned. “Your punishment was me deciding to have you for desert instead of an entree. Why, what did you think I meant?”
Erica flushed so hot she regretted not turning on a fan. “Nothing.”
Griff smiled knowingly. “You’re blushing, Red.”
“It’s like summer weather tonight. I’m hot.”
“You bet you are. A hot, dirty schoolmarm who wants me to spank her pretty behind.”
“Oh, you horrible man!” Erica pushed back her chair and tossed her napkin onto her empty plate. “I’d never even thought of it until you put it into my head.”
“But it’s in your head now. Why not give it a go?”
Griff’s chair scraped as he shoved it away and stood. The lethal intent in his golden gaze made Erica take several steps backward. “No. I never said I wanted to…” Her protest trailed off as Griff started moving toward her. “Griff, please. I couldn’t.”
“Oh, you could. And you will.”
Griff kept coming, unbuttoning his shirt as he stalked her. Erica’s heart pounded, her backwards steps hastened. When Griff pulled the hem of his shirt from his jeans with a forceful yank, Erica squealed and bolted down the hallway, into her bedroom. She tried to slam the door shut but she wasn’t fast enough. How hard did you really try, Erica? Deep down she knew the semblance of protest was merely for show, part of the fantasy she hadn’t even been aware of having.
Dale Griffin brought out the most perplexing behavior in her.
“I mean it, Dale.” Erica tried to inject a stern tone into her voice. “I’m not the kind of person who does things like this.”
“You mean the kind of person fucks two guys at once? Who eats cock like it’s the last meal she’s ever going to have? Who comes extra hard when she takes it up the ass?”
“You bastard.” Did he have to go out of his way to remind her how depraved she’d become? “A gentleman would never throw a woman’s sexual performance in her face. Corey would never push me to do something that frightened me.”
He showed her an acidic grin. “A lady would never throw my obvious deficiencies compared to Saint Corey in my face. Admit it, Red, you’re no lady. You’re a naughty little tart who gives it up at the drop of a hat, and you want to be punished for it.”
“No!” Erica tried to scramble across the bed to the opposite side, but Griff caught her easily with a firm grip on her leg. He dragged her backward until she fell facedown on the mattress. Shoving her floral skirt up to her waist, he grasped the waistband of her underwear and yanked it down her legs.
When they were dispensed with, Griff spanned her bare ass with his hands, squeezing her cheeks. “Damn you have a nice ass on you—as firm and ripe as a couple of tasty melons. I’ve always been an ass man.”
“Probably why you like boys too,” Erica spat.
Griff slapped her behind, causing a sharp sting that made her gasp. He growled close to her ear. “I never liked boys, but I love men. So do you. That’s why you’re always gagging to have some guy shove his dick in you here.”
Griff inserted two fingers into her pussy and found it already drenched with arousal. Erica moaned at the intense pleasure and pure indignity of it. He was right. She did want this.
Removing his fingers, Griff delivered another blow to her backside. This time she couldn’t hide her gasp of delight or the thrust of her hips that silently begged for more. Griff gave it to her in a series of harsh spanks that made her flesh catch fire.
When she was panting and her ass felt red raw, he swooped down and bathed the places he’d marked with his tongue. He kissed all over her backside, quickly making his way to her dripping entrance. He lapped up the evidence of her arousal, fluttering his tongue on her lips before driving it inside her channel.
Erica thrust her hips, seeking a deeper intrusion. “Oh, Griff. Sometimes I hate when you’re right.”
He chuckled, causing pleasant vibrations within her. He started trailing kisses over her bottom again, gradually moving up until he followed the path of her spine. “Damn, sweetheart. If every guy could see what you’re really like underneath that serene exterior, there’d be a queue at your door, scores of men just dying to fuck you.”
Erica shook her head, the image both arousing and repelling her. “No. Only you and Corey—no one else.”
Ever. She didn’t speak the word, but it imprinted itself on her subconscious, ready to come back to haunt her later—when she lost them.
Erica let the rough possessiveness in Griff’s voice push the reminder of her lonely future to the far recesses of her mind. “Damn straight. We’re the only guys for you. We own this ass.”
He delivered one last, resounding slap that had Erica crying out. “Griff, please!”
“Tell me where you want it, you sweet, horny bitch. In your wet cunt or your tight little asshole.”
How could she possibly choose? “I want both.”
Swearing harshly under his breath, Griff yanked open the bedside drawer. A moment later Erica heard the tear of a foil package and the familiar low hum of one of her vibrators.
Oh God. She had no idea which of her toys he had or where he would put it, where he would stick his thick member. Anticipation thrummed inside her. She rotated her hips, showing her eagerness for whatever Griff had in store.
The coolness of lube was a balm to her heated flesh. He smeared it over her ass and down to cover her pussy—not that she needed it there. The push of the quivering sex toy against her puckered back entrance made her bite her lip. Griff pushed it in a little farther, and Erica gasped.
It wasn’t the bullet or the nice safe butt plug. He’d selected the bigger dick-shaped toy with the giant purple head. “Griff…”
“Bet you’ve never used this one up here before. Big, isn’t it? Not as big as Corey though.” He eased the instrument deeper into her body, the vibrations facilitating its entry. Griff delved into her pussy with his fingers, moving them in and out as he worked the battery-operated penis in her ass. “We’d better get you ready t
o feel Corey’s massive stick in this tiny hole.”
Erica could imagine it all too well, had thought about it constantly since Corey had mentioned his desire to take her anally.
Griff invaded her hole with the toy, inch by inch, all the while keeping up the teasing movement of his fingers in her pussy. He hit a spot that made her shudder and clutch at his fingers with her internal walls. It was then he replaced his fingers with the broad head of his erection.
Her muscles spasmed when he entered her in a smooth stroke, withdrawing the dildo as he came in. “Oh yeah. You feel so damn good. I’m never going to get enough of this. You know what I want you to say, sweetheart. Let’s hear it.”
Had it only been a month ago the words seemed impossible to speak? “Fuck me, Griff. I’m yours to fuck.”
“That’s right, you are.” He thrust hard inside her, bumping her cervix. Then he drew back and stuck the vibrator into her ass.
He continued that way, the cadence of the alternate entries steadily increasing in pace until Erica was wild with the need to climax. The twin invasions filled her completely, made her yearn for the same thing but with Corey the one filling her backside. The very thought of it made the spasms begin.
“Yeah, oh yeah. Come for me my beautiful, dirty little redhead.”
It seemed as though she shattered everywhere—in her pussy and her ass, in her old view of herself. Her orgasm rocked her to the depths of her soul, breaching what she’d thought were impenetrable walls shielding her heart. When Griff came with a litany of muttered curses, it was as though he seeped into her while her defenses were down.
In that moment, Erica wasn’t sure if she was ever going to be able to force him back out.
A minute later when Griff started laughing, Erica rethought that assessment. She glowered at him. “You’re laughing at me?”
“No way, Red. I’m laughing at myself.”
“Oh, sure.”
“I mean it.” When Erica made to roll off the bed, Griff covered her body with his, pinning her down. “You may not believe this, but I’ve never spanked a woman before.”
“You’re right. I don’t believe it.” He’d made it feel so darned good.
“Seriously.” Griff chuckled. “Didn’t I sound like a first-class dick? Sorry I called you a bitch.”
“That’s all right. I think I liked it.” Erica groaned. “Dear Lord, what’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing.” Griff’s expression turned momentarily serious, almost pained. “I can’t think of a damned thing wrong with you.”
Erica’s heart raced. Oh no, not Griff. Corey looked at her with that tender expression sometimes, the one that scared her into thinking they weren’t on the same page in the this-is-purely-a-temporary-sexual-affair department. But not Griff. He cussed and criticized and bossed her around, generally treating her like a sex object. Griff kept her grounded, kept this whole situation impersonal.
“Don’t, Dale. Please don’t.”
Her agonized whisper seemed to make him snap out of whatever trance he’d been in. Griff pulled back, his expression turning blank. “Whatever you want, Red.”
“I want…” …so many things she couldn’t have. Erica focused on something that might actually be attainable. “I want to be there the first time you make love to Corey. I want to see it.”
Griff stood and chucked her on the chin. “How can I say no? I know how much you love to watch, kinky minx.”
“I do.” It meant more to her than a vicarious thrill, but Erica didn’t want to explore that with Griff. Let him think it’s nothing but a voyeuristic desire. She watched as Griff went about getting dressed. “Do you have to go?”
“Early shift tomorrow. I’ll hit the hay at home.”
Erica nodded, schooling her features to appear as bland as Griff’s. This was what she wanted—sex and nothing more. She might not be able to resist Corey’s tendency to invite himself to stay all night and cuddle, but at least she didn’t have to worry about that in Griff’s case. Over the ensuing weeks he didn’t stay overnight once. When she visited him at his house she tried to grant him the same courtesy.
At school the hours crawled by, characterized by the mounting heat of approaching summer and the subsequent irritability of her teenage charges, who wanted nothing more than for the term, and the year, to be over. Erica understood how they felt. For the first time in her life, work loomed as an aggravating distraction from the unpredictable variety and excitement of her private life. Every night she raced home, never knowing who she’d find waiting for her there—Corey, Griff or both of them. If the house was empty, her momentary disappointment would soon be allayed by a phone call or a knock on her door.
Corey would often take her out to a movie or for Thai food. He’d tell her about his family, whom he obviously adored. A sister on the Southside raising three kids, another currently in Canada on a working holiday. His parents had been married for thirty-one years after meeting through friends and falling instantly in love. Corey had flashed her a smile when he’d said that, and taken her hand across the restaurant table.
Sometimes Erica worried that Corey considered himself her boyfriend. Pam even thought he was, since Corey had picked Erica up from school a couple of times and fussed over her like she was a delicate, precious thing. He carried her folders of student assignments as he walked her through the car park, causing twitters of speculation amongst the other teachers and exclamations like “Nice pull, Ms. Shannon!” from the cheekier teenage girls. Corey didn’t recoil, hamming it up by kissing her full on the mouth to the background noise of cheers and whistles.
When Corey treated her like that, Erica experienced a painful sense of guilt that she hadn’t told him everything about herself. If he was really her boyfriend, she would owe it to him to reveal everything—the cancer scare, her genetic prognosis, and most of all the mastectomy she had decided to have as soon as a date for the procedure could be confirmed. But the thought terrified Erica. Every time they made love—and she’d begun using that term in her mind before she could stop herself—Erica felt his growing affection soothing her soul. Even a flicker of the distaste she’d seen in Doug’s eyes flashing through Corey’s would be devastating.
Besides, Griff’s presence in her life was a constant reminder that she wasn’t a girlfriend. She was an affair, a fuck toy. When Griff decided to visit her, he rarely called first. He didn’t take her out to restaurants or the cinema. Griff’s modus operandi involved waltzing into her house with food that would sit on the kitchen counter growing cold as he stripped her out of her clothes. It involved taking her bent over her couch or up against the wall in the hallway on the way to her bedroom. It involved whispered dirty words and harsh commands that Erica followed because his masterful manner made her so wet she couldn’t deny him anything. He bought her gifts, not of flowers and chocolate, but of lingerie and sex toys. He’d insist she wear and use them for his benefit, and for Corey’s the next time all three of them were together.
At first Erica felt awkward doing it, but the looks on Corey’s and Griff’s faces made that all float away. She grew bolder as the weeks passed, wearing the naughty underwear beneath her unofficial school uniform of knee-length skirt and buttoned-up blouse. She even bought something for herself, a tight black dress she doubted she’d ever be game to wear in public. The mere fact it hung in her wardrobe made her feel like a new woman—a sexy, bold woman.
Griff did that to her—turned her into a person she hardly recognized by nudging her sexual boundaries, forcing her to discover parts of herself she never knew existed. And Corey with his steadfast strength and gentle ways gave her the sense of security she needed to go out on those limbs. The two firemen were a dynamite combination, making her feel cocooned and reckless at the same time.
As time wore on Erica had more and more trouble picturing a future without them in it.
Griff woke with a jerk, his body bathed in sweat. The nightmare held him tight, like black quicksand trying to pull hi
m back into the horror. The scent of smoldering timber was sharp in his nostrils, and for long moments he struggled to convince himself the nightmare wasn’t real.
The disturbing dreams had grown more frequent in recent weeks. This time the burning building wasn’t an unfamiliar storage shed or apartment block. This time it had been Erica’s house. The thought of Erica being trapped inside the crumbling walls had exacerbated the panic. Griff had stood by, frozen and helpless, his limbs like solid blocks of cement, as Corey had rushed in and the flames had swallowed him. The fire had taken them both.
The imagined sound of their screams had jolted Griff awake, the terror so fresh his throat felt clogged with it. He rolled to his side and wrapped his arm around Corey’s torso, pressing into him, chest to back. His nearness was reassuring and it diminished the clarity of the dream. Corey was here, safe and sound. On the other side of Corey, Erica slept, her breathing even and clean, unhampered by suffocating smoke. Griff breathed a sigh of pure relief.
It was so much easier when they got together at Erica’s place. That way, Griff could slip out anytime he wanted. He didn’t have to lie beside them and feel the inherent intimacy of sharing a bed scratch at his resolve. He didn’t have to acknowledge how close they were to ensnaring his heart completely.
But tonight Erica and Corey had stayed over at his house, the three of them falling asleep in mutual exhaustion after they’d gorged on each other. Times like this it was getting more and more difficult to subtly suggest he preferred to sleep alone.
Countering his dark thoughts, the full-body contact with Corey caused a stirring in Griff’s groin. When he’d wrapped an arm around the man his knuckles had brushed the warm body curled into Corey’s front. Now, the curve of Erica’s bare breast was warm and smooth, an enticement too tempting to ignore. Griff cupped her, gently caressing. A soft moan fell out of her and she arched, responsive as hell even in sleep.
Instantly, Griff turned hard, his erection jutting into the crevice of Corey’s ass. The twin assaults on his libido, combined with the lingering distress of the dream, tore his willpower to shreds. Angling his hips to better announce his physical state, Griff swirled his tongue around Corey’s ear. On the other side of Corey, Erica began to squirm, rubbing herself against Corey’s chest as she drifted toward wakefulness.
