by MV Ellis
And of course, someone was watching. Two someones, to be exact. I looked across at King, noting that he was as transfixed as me, his eyes hungrily eating up her every move. We stayed that way for a few songs in a row, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to touch her.
In a few short paces I was right behind her, my hands at her waist. I lowered my head, aligning my lips with her ear.
“Dance with me again?”
She nodded, reaching backward and lacing her raised hands into my hair. I had a flashback to the night we first met—she’d let the music take hold then, too, gripping my neck in the same way.
Without interrupting the flow of her movements, she angled her butt backward into my erection, pushing rhythmically, bringing me along with the beat. I swayed with her, grinding into her as hard as the barriers between us would allow.
It was the best dry sex I’d ever had, but nowhere near enough to quench my desire for her. Not even close. So much so, my dick was about to make a jailbreak from my pants of its own accord, if I didn’t do something about it, stat.
Meeting King’s eyes, I started walking slowly backward toward the edge of the room, pulling Quincy gently with me. She followed my lead without hesitation, and still without breaking her rhythm.
When we reached the wall, I leaned back on it, using it to anchor us, and again she responded accordingly, dropping her hands from behind my head and bending forward at the waist slightly, to push harder into my dick. The feeling was heaven with a side of hell. I wanted to be inside her so badly, I couldn’t fucking see straight.
On cue, King stepped in front of us, putting his hands against the wall on either side of our heads . Quincy tilted her head upward to watch King as he leaned into us. He nudged her legs open with his knee, then joined in with our dance. Quincy ground rhythmically into his thigh at the front, and my dick at the back, each swivel of the hips increasing the intensity and fire between us.
King leaned forward slightly. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Quincy nodded, and in an instant King bent down further, pressing his lips to hers, as though he’d known she would say yes. The bolt of electricity that flowed through the three of us in a continual, closed circuit set my body and mind racing.
“I want to feel how wet you are.” My voice betrayed my desire for her.
She nodded again, and I quickly moved one hand from her hip, sliding it between our bodies. With the other, I hitched her flowing skirt high enough to dip my hand under it. My finger hovered at Quincy’s panty-clad entrance, and her body stilled as she awaited my next move.
I wasted no time in slipping my finger into her panties and inside her in one slick move. Jesus fuck. Her body jolted, and she let her head fall back onto my chest again, pulling her lips away from King’s, arching her back and tilting her head further as her eyes rolled back in her head, and her eyelids slid closed.
I pulled my gaze from her, locking in with King’s. He looked pissed at the loss of her lips, and I couldn’t blame him. I smirked. Better luck next time, buddy.
He raised his eyebrow as though hearing my inner thoughts, then moved one hand from the wall, and lowered it below Quincy’s waist. His face said it all. Challenge accepted.
“Me too.” His voice was firm, almost commanding.
She nodded again, keeping her eyes closed. King lifted her skirt at the front and moved his leg from between hers, I guessed, replacing it with his hand. The powerful jolt of her body confirmed my suspicion, but she didn’t miss a beat, continuing to “dance,” sandwiched between the two of us.
We carried on like that, me with my finger rotating slowly in and out of Quincy, King stimulating her clit, the two of us staring each other down angrily while we worked her over,—in sync, but out of alignment. The weird vibe of the situation wasn’t lost on me.
Like I’d told Quincy, King and I had been with the same woman countless times before, but never like this. It had never felt like there was so much at stake, and there hadn’t ever been this level tension between the two of us.
For us, fucking was pretty much a sport, a recreational pastime to make the days on the road—and at home—go faster. We didn’t think about it too much once the moment was over. It was barely of more consequence than brushing our teeth, or drinking water. Me even more so than King.
I definitely couldn’t remember a time when sex, or any woman, had been a source of strain between us. We’d been sharing since the first time we realized we had eyes on the same girl. That time, and every time since, a three-way had been the perfect solution to that particular “problem.” No harm, no foul. But this time, something felt different. The friction made no sense to me, but it was unmistakably there.
When Quincy started to move faster, tightening around my finger, I smirked at King. Not that I could totally lay claim to her orgasm—after all, he was there too—but given I had my hand inside her, and she was about to come all over it, I figured I was good to take the lion’s share of the credit.
It seemed that King had other ideas though, as moments later he dropped to his knees, pushing Quincy’s skirt up, pulling her panties aside, and pressing his mouth to her clit.
Chapter 19
Quincy
* * *
I came harder than I could ever remember coming before—even that night in the cloakroom—involuntary cries of ecstasy tearing from me as the pleasure became too much to contain within my body. I’d had my eyes closed for so long, lost in the sea of sensation, that for all I knew, we could have had an audience of thousands watching me lose my ever-loving mind with two guys I still barely knew.
I should probably have cared more about the potential for public humiliation, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn.
I let myself enjoy my orgasm fully, and only when I’d come down from my high did I open my eyes. Though I’d been prepared to face the world, if I’d let a man go down on me while another fingered me from behind with other people watching. However, I was relieved to see that the room was as empty as it had been when we’d entered.
I blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light, then felt the blood rush to my cheeks yet again. I was shocked, and not a little horrified, at what I had just done. It was as though my conscience was late to the party, but she’d suddenly shown up with a vengeance, and was determined to make up for lost time. She was a buzz-killing party pooper
“Hey, hey, don’t look like that. That was hot as fuck.” As he spoke, King leaned toward me, brushing his wet lips lightly over mine. One of his hands floated to my hip—the opposite side to where Roman was holding me. His other stayed on the wall to the side of Roman’s head. He leaned down further, and this time, despite the pangs of guilt, I pressed my mouth to his, devouring the taste of myself on his lips.
“Turn around; I have something for you too.” The sound of Roman’s voice, low and husky with desire, flooded my body with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I was torn between wanting to continue kissing King, and wanting whatever Rome had to give me. I tore my lips from King’s, and pivoted to face Rome.
My breath hitched as I read the pure, carnal hunger in his eyes.
“Here.” He slipped his finger into my mouth, and I sucked it hard, enjoying the flavor of me on him, just as I had with King’s mouth.
“Now I want to taste you.” He lowered his lips to mine, pressing hard. His kiss was so different from King’s. Where King’s was smooth, languid and measured, allowing for plenty of give and take, Rome’s was hard, rough, and domineering. It was clear that with everything he did, it was his way or the highway. Unusually for me, I didn’t fight it. I let him lead the dance, and actually enjoyed the feeling of him being in control.
He moved the hand that had been in my mouth to the nape of my neck and squeezed, drawing me nearer to him at the same time. I let him deepen the kiss, leaning my body into his, feeling the strength of his erection as it pushed against my stomach. King moved too, resting harder against my back, so that his
erection pressed urgently against my ass. He dipped his head, gracing my neck and shoulders with tiny butterfly kisses.
I’d never even kissed two different guys in quick succession before, let alone whatever the hell the three of us were doing. It was all shades of wrong, on so many levels, yet something about it felt so right. I’d just come, but I was instantly right back at the point where I couldn’t get enough of them, desperately chasing my next orgasm.
I stood on tiptoe, pressing harder against Rome’s lips, and when he demanded entrance to my mouth with his tongue, I didn’t hesitate to grant it to him. He roamed my mouth like an explorer discovering new and uncharted territories.
Despite the nagging need to come again, I could have stayed that way, reveling in the contrast between rough and smooth offered by the best friends, forever. The two men were just about as different as two people could be. One blond, one dark. One smooth, the other rough. One measured, his counterpart wild.
Surprisingly, it was Rome who put the brakes on in the end, wrenching his lips from mine, then lowering his head once more to speak into my ear, his voice a low, menacing growl.
“We can’t stay here like this. I need more.”
“I don’t…” I didn’t even know what the end of the sentence was.
Don’t what? Don’t want more? That would be an obvious lie. Don’t want to stop? There was some truth in that, but on the other hand, part of me thought we really should. Not that long ago, I’d been the one berating the guys about professionalism and boundaries, and now here I was, trampling all over both things with just a little encouragement from them.
Okay, so men as alluring and overtly sexual as them could be pretty persuasive, but that really was no excuse for the way I’d so freely put my usual moral standards aside—even more so than the closet incident.
If someone had told me, even a few hours earlier, that I’d let one man go down on me while his friend finger-fucked me in public, I’d have told them they needed their head examined—yet there I was, doing all that and contemplating more. Much more. I guessed I needed to realign my moral compass to suit who I really was, not who I liked to think I was.
“Don’t what? Don’t want us? We all know that’s not true. Don’t like what we’re doing? Another lie. Don’t want more? Your body’s telling a completely different story. Or is it that you don’t want to admit how much you’re enjoying this?” Boom! Wasn’t that the truth.
“I don’t think we should be doing this here. Well, I don’t think we should be doing it anywhere, but especially not here. Someone could walk in any minute.”
“That’s not going to happen. It’s all taken care of.”
I angled my body slightly to get a better look at King as he spoke.
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, I have this room, and the spa next door, booked for as long as we need. It’s just the three of us.”
“There’s a spa?”
Of course there was. The place seemed to have everything an exceedingly rich playboy needed, all under one roof.
“Yeah. Want to see?”
Chapter 20
King
* * *
I’d asked her because I could feel the uncertainty and regret about what had just gone down—figuratively, and literally—start to creep in. I didn’t want it to pervade her mind to the point where she pulled the plug on what we were doing, and what I sincerely hoped we were about to do. Neither Rome nor I were even close to being ready to call it quits. We were both sporting more wood than an enchanted forest.
The thing was, I didn’t believe that Quincy was ready to put the brakes on either, not really, but I could feel that’s what she thought she ought to do. The whole two-guy thing was clearly a first for her, and no doubt we’d crossed all sorts of other imaginary lines she’d drawn for herself. Shit, she probably thought people shouldn’t or couldn’t do this. At least, not people like her.
I watched as the indecision played out across her face, and I knew if I handled it wrong, she’d bolt, possibly never to return. I also knew that if Rome handled it, he was almost guaranteed to fuck it up. I shot him a look that said, “hang back.”
Not normally one to do as he was told, implied or otherwise, in any circumstance, the tiny, almost imperceptible, nod of agreement he gave me told me just how much he wanted her—and us. If the situation had played out with any other woman, he would have said something, just to spite me for daring to try to control him.
I pulled my focus back to Quincy, gripping her shoulders lightly, then turning her to face me so that she was leaning against Rome’s chest again. They looked hot together, I had to admit. My dick twitched its agreement.
I took one hand, and nudged her chin gently with the crook of my index finger.
“Try not to overthink it. Let’s chill out with a few drinks by the pool and just go with the flow.”
“But I don’t have my swimsuit.”
“That’s the beauty of having the place to ourselves… no swimwear needed.”
“I can’t…”
“You’re doing it again.” I tapped her gently on the temple. “Thinking too much. It’s a simple dip in the pool among friends.” Friends with boners so hard their dicks are about to break, and who very desperately want to nail you. I kept that part to myself.
“Well I’d hardly call us friends. I mean, we hardly know each other, and I’ve never done what we just did with my actual friends—male or female.”
“Okay, so maybe we’re not friends yet, but let’s aim to be. Why don’t we call it an ice-breaker? We can even talk about the plan for tomorrow at the studio.” I glanced briefly at Rome. He was looking at me as though I was a moron, his patience wearing thin. He was about to start rattling his cage any moment.
Quincy hesitated briefly again, then a light seemed to come on in her eyes. I wasn’t sure why, or what had been the deciding factor, but I could tell we had her.
“Okay. Shit. I mean I must be out of my fucking mind, but okay.”
I flicked Rome a look I hoped conveyed my thoughts. Namely, eat shit, bad boy.
He flipped me off, and I smiled, turning my attention back to Quincy.
“Great. Let’s go. No time like the present, as they say.” In reality, I figured that if we hustled, it would remove room for further doubt, and make it less likely that she’d do a one-eighty on us and change her mind about skinny dipping.
Quincy emerged from the changing room swathed in a large white bath sheet, just in time to see Rome dive into the deep end of the pool. Physically he was ridiculous—rudely and effortlessly athletic—just like his ballet-dancer brother. I wasn’t too shabby either, but nor did I survive on a diet that was nine parts vodka and fried food, with minimal exercise, like they both did.
They were honestly like some kind of meta-humans. Like all that would be left after the nuclear apocalypse would be cockroaches, chicken in a can, and those two, emerging from the smoldering rubble that was all that remained of human civilization, completely unscathed in pristine, tight white pants.
I smiled to myself at the stupidity of my thoughts, and turned my attention back to Quincy. The fact was, she was meta in her beauty. There was something about the way she looked that was other-worldly—the large, wide-set eyes, her velvety, rich brown skin, the generous curve of her full lips, the way she went almost cross-eyed when she was deep in thought. So goofy, yet so fucking hot at the same time. My dick bobbed in recollection.
“You’re overdressed.” I motioned toward her towel with my chin. “Come join me in here. We can have that business meeting.”
She looked uncertainly over to the pool, where Rome was thrashing out laps.
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll join us when he’s ready. Despite initial impressions, he’s not much of a talker—he’s way more a man of action. He also hates meetings, which I’m sure was obvious from that train wreck at the label.”
“Hmm… it was.” She nodded thoughtfully. “But, this isn’t e
xactly a meeting, is it? Given it’s being conducted naked in the hot tub.”
“Correction. You’re neither naked nor in the tub. That would just be me, at this point in time. Anyway, I don’t think the location or attire determine whether it’s a meeting or not. Don’t make me come out there and carry you in. Come on, let’s talk.” I splashed handfuls of water her way, marveling that the sound of her squeals made my dick even harder.
Moments later, she’d dropped her towel and was making her way toward the tub. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her—everything about her was mesmerizing. Even more so when she was naked, fully revealing the curves I’d already glimpsed beneath her clothes—her shapely legs, and amazing tits.
Her movements were smooth and fluid, languid even, as she lowered herself to the edge of the tub, then slipped in.
“Hmmm, it’s hot. Just how I like it.”
Chapter 21
Rome
* * *
“Me too.”
She startled; clearly she was both unaware that I was behind her, and a little jumpy. Apprehension over what we were about to do, I guessed.
“Don’t be nervous. What did I miss?”
“Nothing much. We were about to talk about the session tomorrow, and get a plan in place for how it’s going to pan out. Sit down, and stop waving that thing around like a weapon of mass distraction.” King jutted his chin toward my straining dick.
On the face of it, the comment was meant as a joke, but I knew him well enough not to miss the tinge of irritation in his voice. What the fuck was with him? I made a mental note to question him about it later.
