Salsa Nights

by Salsa Nights (lit)

  If only Brad hadn’t been so crude. It left her wondering if she was another piece of ass to him. After seeing woman after woman go in and out of their house for years, she probably was. And it was obvious from their natural rhythm they’d had many threesomes in the past. That thought brought a painful pressure to her chest.

  Brad was the mysterious bad boy she’d relish conquering and taming to make him hers. She’d enjoy each of their fights because she was learning that they fed his animal lust, thrusting him into a passionate world where sex was his release, his therapy.

  Dale was sensitive and caring, knowing when to smile, and when to seduce with a dominance that rivaled Brad’s. He was gentle and comforting but could transform into an animal that devoured her.

  It would be so easy to lose her heart, but not very practical. Not when they hadn’t spoken of anything beyond their definition of ménage. Brad had told her she was theirs, and that machismo claim should have enraged her, but no, it had excited her to know they thought of her as belonging only to them. But now that she was not consumed with the lust she’d felt when he told her that, she knew he had told her when he, too, had been driven with his own sexual need to control. That was all. There was no emotion behind those otherwise romantic words.

  But really, they owned a club that served to accommodate sex and lots of it. That was the whole purpose of its existence. So, too, was the logical reason they owned it—to satisfy their otherwise insatiable lust with readily available women.

  So, she could not have sex with them again since they’d never offer her more than a damn good fuck with no commitment or love. Or, she could enjoy them while she could and, if only for the moment, live. She could just forget her conventional upbringing, what anyone thought, and take what they gave her. They were, after all, the only two men she’d ever wanted. And now—if only for now—they were hers.

  She settled back, her mind made up, and realized they’d arrived at the house.

  Once inside, she peeked at the alarm code Brad punched in and aimed for the kitchen.

  “Isabel?” Brad called.

  She turned by the same spot he’d kissed her this morning. “Yes?”

  Both studs walked in the kitchen with her, looking too good for words.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked while rubbing the back of his neck.

  She wanted to tell him to stop being so overbearing. She couldn’t forget the way she’d ended up living here, even if she reaped certain incredible benefits tonight. But, more than anything, she wanted to tell them that she wanted to sleep with them, to spend the night in their arms. But she couldn’t, not yet. Doing that would be so intimate she was sure to get too used to it. She’d come to need it, actually. So when the time came for her to leave, how would she spend another night alone? How would she get through the night without their arms holding her tightly?

  “No, thank you. Just sleep.”

  Brad gave her a curt nod, mumbled, “Good night, then,” and left.

  Isabel didn’t realize she’d exhaled loudly until Dale spoke up.

  “He’s worried, that’s all.”

  Isabel snorted. “Worried he won’t be able to keep the promise he made?”

  Dale leaned against the island. “Worried he won’t be able to keep you safe if you continue fighting him.”

  “I fight those who try to control me. And he treats me like I’m a child.”

  Looking toward the stairs Brad had taken, Dale said, “Circumstances have taught him not to trust women. Unfortunately, that rolls into thinking they can’t take care of themselves.”

  Isabel narrowed her eyes. “I lost my parents at sixteen. I’ve traveled the world. I run a successful dance school. That’s not enough?”

  He came up to her and took a strand of her hair in his fingers. The intimate gesture warmed her and confused her at the same time. She looked up into his candy eyes and saw something flash through them, a feeling, but it was gone too soon. Anyway, what could a player feel besides lust?

  “Give him time. He’ll come around. I have faith in him,” he murmured, his hand too damn close to her breasts.

  Needing to break the spell from the playboy, she thought of something to say. “I suppose you’ll tell me he has to be the one to tell me why he doesn’t trust women.”

  He dropped her hair and shook his head. “Sorry, but it’s his story.”

  Don’t ask him, just tell him good night and go to bed. “And what’s yours?” Good job.

  Milk chocolate eyes gazed at her mouth, and once again, she found it hard to breathe. Damn, he was good. “I’ve been a bad boy who’s just now finding his way.”

  Isabel couldn’t believe the things he said to continue his status as playboy. She already had him pegged, but it was his nature to charm women, bed them, and bed them again. But she was too smart to fall for lines other women would drop at his feet to hear.

  “Men don’t change,” she retorted coolly.

  He grinned, those dimples working their charm, but she ignored them. “They do when they want to,” he told her softly and left her standing alone in the kitchen.

  Isabel scoffed and dropped her head back. They were amazing lovers, as they’d shown her tonight, but they were night and day. Brad was dark. Dale was light. Brad brooded while Dale charmed. Brad had a brick wall all around him. Dale had chocolate and dimples. But they were both dangerous, deadly.

  She thought about the decision she’d made on her way here tonight. If she took what they gave her, if she allowed them to be her lovers, she’d best be careful. These men played the game well. She would be another woman who’d come in and out of this house, forgotten with time.

  Walking into her room, she knew whatever she took with her when she left here would be memories—pleasures of the flesh, experiences, knowledge. She would not expect one thing more than that. She simply wouldn’t.

  Her father had ignored her while other men had tried to use her. It was her turn to take what she could because they couldn’t be trusted with more than kicking her door down and watching out for the killer.

  She dropped on the bed and smiled. Never would she have imagined she’d have sex with the two college boys of her dreams. Her body flushed with the memory.

  The cell phone ringer for an incoming text chimed, and she pulled her phone out of her purse to see Nik’s messages, frantically looking for her. She pressed the speed dial button.

  “Chica, where the hell have you been?” Nik yelled.

  She loved how her friend, even though she was Caucasian, referred to her as chica, or girl. Years of being around Puerto Ricans had rubbed off on Nik. Isabel’s parents were both from the Enchanted Island.

  Isabel dropped back on the bed and slung the other arm across her forehead. “Are you okay?

  Her friend sighed. “Yes, I mean I’m safe. No, I’ve been worried about you. I got your message, and I’ll be staying up here until you tell me. Where the hell have you been? I’ve tried calling you since your last class ended.”

  “I’m okay. Actually, I’m more than okay.”

  “Oh?”

  Isabel giggled. “Yes. I have something to tell you. Remember Brad and Dale, my grandpa’s neighbors? You and I watched them a couple of times?”

  Chapter Eight

  Isabel conducted her final class for the day. On Saturdays, she taught private lessons and an advanced Latin class, today being the rumba. The dance of lovers was just that—hot, sensual, and erotic. And from the looks of him, Brad hated every second she danced with her male student.

  She hadn’t been pleased at all when he announced he was accompanying her to work. Knowing she didn’t have a choice unless she wanted another threat, she reluctantly got in the car with him while pondering if the threats weren’t empty after all.

  But now, seeing the veins in his arm pop, his jaw squeeze, and the shuffling in his chair, she felt a whole lot happier.

  The male student she was now dancing with, however, avoided her eyes while his palms
sweated because she never danced with students this long. She would, of course, dance with them to show them the technique or the move. But today, with her guest turning into a caged bull, she took a little longer showing him a hold, a turn, or a hip rotation.

  Isabel would have never thought herself as the teasing type—the kind who would relish making a lover jealous. But she figured a little payback for his overbearing supremeness was well justified.

  Because she was sweating, she took off her shirt and worked in her red sports bra and knee-length black jersey skirt. She hadn’t thought about showing him her breasts, but since his face strained in pain when he glanced at them, she didn’t mind one bit.

  So when the last student left for the day, Isabel wasn’t at all surprised by Brad’s mood. She turned off the music and walked right past him to the back, where she changed clothes, purposely ignoring him. She couldn’t miss, though, the way he stood in her office and crossed his arms, eyeing her with the look of a jungle cat ready to pounce on his first prey of the day. Isabel practically skipped across the back room.

  She opened her locker door and sensed him. She smelled that cool fresh cologne of his. Her stomach did two flip-flops, and her heart raced faster than when she danced salsa. Damn him and what he did to her. He closed in on her, so close she felt the prickles along her neck as his breath fanned her skin.

  Then he tossed her hair over her left shoulder. His chest pressed against her back.

  Fingers caressed her right shoulder, up to the curve of her neck, and a burst of goose bumps raced in every direction. Her hands flattened against her locker door for support because the man had the power to melt her bones.

  His hand brushed across her throat to cup her cheek and turn her to face him. She trembled as he pushed her against the cold metal behind her. She sucked in her breath.

  He was magnificent and staring at her with an intensity that burned every cell, every fiber. He kissed her. His tongue stroked long and deep. His hands gripped her hair. His dick swelled against her stomach.

  She moaned and he groaned in return. He lowered his body to fit his thick rod between her legs, and she grinded her hips. His mouth left hers, and she sucked in air, needing to breathe. No, needing more. Needing him. She turned her face, shut her eyes, and entwined her fingers in his hair.

  He yanked the top of her bra down to draw a peak into his hot mouth. Mewing sounds escaped her throat, urging him, provoking him. He squeezed her tits, bit her nipples, and blew cold air before the hot air of his mouth warmed her tips. Then he licked them again. Oh, the change from hot to cool to hot was an explosion of sensations, and she arched into him, wet and ready.

  “Oh, Brad,” she gasped, grinding and squirming.

  He lowered one hand, lifting her skirt, and she opened her eyes.

  “No. Wait, no, Brad.” She pushed him away.

  He cast glazed eyes on her but stopped, holding the side of her thigh.

  “It’s Dale. This isn’t right. I don’t know how he’d feel. I don’t--” What could she say? She felt like she was betraying him, and that made her sick.

  Brad closed his eyes and took deep breaths, resting his forehead against her heaving chest. Then he stood and turned around.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. We all have to sit down and discuss a few things.”

  Isabel felt relieved, glad to hear the loyalty Brad felt for his friend.

  The front doorbell rang, alerting them that someone came in.

  “Get dressed,” he told her and headed to the front of the studio.

  She leaned back against the lockers and shuddered one last time. Her pussy had gotten wet in the time it took for him to turn her around. Her heart still pounded. But stopping was the right thing.

  Isabel quickly switched her heels to sandals and threw on the white T-shirt she’d taken off earlier. Then she followed Brad.

  After signing up a young bride for waltz lessons, she resigned herself to a quiet ride back to the house. Brad definitely didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood, but then, when was he? She was just glad they would all sit down and discuss this arrangement because she didn’t want to stir up any trouble.

  She had no clue whether they’d only want to be with her together or they were okay with her being alone with the other. Isabel supposed it didn’t matter to her. These men were superb lovers, and from her one time with them, it was strange to know that, but she did. So being with one or both promised to be amazing.

  Once back at the house, she learned that Dale was at Club Lava. Not wanting to be alone just yet with Brad, who was more tempting than Spanish desserts, she figured she might as well catch up on some sleep.

  “I’m going to bed,” she tossed over her shoulder as he opened the refrigerator.

  Not waiting for any sort of reply, she locked her door and started the shower. The sooner they had this conversation, the better. Isabel could only be around them so long before all she could think of was their hands all over her.

  * * * *

  Brad stepped out of a very cold shower and threw some clothes on. It hadn’t worked. His dick was still hard for her. She’d never know how difficult it was to stop touching her. It really would have been easier to stop breathing.

  But hell, the woman was passionate. And stubborn. He’d loved how she’d ignored him all day. For being so small, she was damn proud with defiance blazing in her feminine stare. And he was sure the looks he’d sent her would get her attention, because seeing another man’s arms around her had made him come out of his skin. But the she-devil never noticed. Or she was just really good at hiding that she had.

  Isabel stopping what he’d started had shown loyalty. And he liked that. Too much, actually. Every other woman he and Dale shared would have been on her back without one thought about his friend. If she kept it up, he might be telling Dale he was right—she could be the one. And Dale would rib him about it for years.

  This woman was getting to him, and he wasn’t surprised. Hell, that was why he’d stayed away and watched from afar, because pictures were safe. Now all he did was think, worry, and dream about Isabel and wonder how the hell he could make her happy.

  Giving her pleasure and making her smile was becoming a growing need. But he wasn’t the type to use words to make a woman smile. Dale was poetic and sentimental, knowing what to say just when the woman needed to hear it most. Brad was action, preferring to use his hands and body to bring her to ecstasy. But it was dawning on him, and confusing the shit out of him, that it just wasn’t enough with Isabel. She deserved so much more.

  His cell phone rang, and he grinned when he saw the name on the screen.

  “Hey, man, I was just thinking about you,” Brad said.

  “Our favorite politician’s on his way here. Calli got the call, said if we don’t talk to him, he’ll shut the place down tonight or bulldoze it.” Dale sounded as amused as Brad felt.

  Brad had to chuckle. What else? “Isabel’s sleeping, and I don’t want her alone. Shit.”

  Dale sighed on the other end. “I understand, man. This asshole will tear the place down if we’re both not here, the pompous ass.”

  “Yeah, I agree. I’ll call the neighbor to keep an eye on the place. The moment our little chat’s done, I’m racing back here.”

  After hanging up, Brad finished dressing and wrote Isabel a note. He hated leaving her, but he was certain no one had followed them, and their security cameras had shown no strange people around their property. He planned on taking no longer than an hour, so once he set the alarm, he took off for the club.

  Chapter Nine

  Isabel pulled into the Club Lava parking lot and parked next to Brad and Dale’s truck. She’d woken up to find Brad gone and a note—a note—that he was at the club. The nerve.

  Could the man not even have the decency to lie? They’d both been womanizers their entire adult lives, but to flaunt it around her? It didn’t take too many brain cells to figure out that a man ready to have sex an hour ago, but was shut
down, was at a swingers club for a reason, a carnal reason.

  Isabel had been so angry, she scrunched the letter tightly and flung it across the kitchen. Luckily, they hadn’t changed the alarm code she’d seen Brad punch in.

  Brad had told her she couldn’t be in Club Lava? Well, no way in hell was she staying alone with a stranger drooling on the couch.

  Isabel checked her face in the mirror. Her nude lip gloss and hair were just right. She’d pulled it up in a ponytail since the short black dress was backless. It wasn’t her intent to grab just anyone’s attention, only Brad’s and Dale’s.

  After checking her I.D. and informing her it was ladies’ night and admission was free, the bouncer opened the door to the club and let her in. She hadn’t seen Devin again and hoped he still worked here.

  He’d been so sweet and kind. They had lunch together, and he collected three phone numbers by the end of the day at her studio. It was obvious by the way he quickly agreed he was never told not to bring her to Club Lava. All she did was tell him she would love to come and see Brad and Dale, and he’d agreed. If he was fired, she’d have some words for the blue-eyed jerk and the cold-blooded playboy.

  “Come on, senator, we’ll get them next time,” a burly man said loudly as they passed her in the doorway.

  She noticed the slick-haired politician mumbling something behind him, but they didn’t seem to notice her. She found what the first man said odd, but once inside she had someplace she wanted to be and forgot about those two.

  Isabel made her way to the back of the club. Cigarette smoke and the pungent scent of liquor saturated the air. The music blared and people laughed. The dance floor, as always, was packed.

  Small groups crowded the couches, and she walked past a woman giving a man a blow job, a man going down on a woman who was kissing another man, and a woman riding a man while she sucked another man’s dick.

  She turned down the hallway that led to the stairwell and found Dale at the end. He was talking to a very pretty blonde who touched his arm, laughed out loud, and took a little too long to kiss his cheek. She wore a beautiful long red dress, which happened to be tight. Very tight.