by Lauren Bliss
I can tell Lisa is a little put out, left on her own to climb into the front next to the driver, but she’s doing a good job of hiding it, craning around in her seat and chattering away non-stop, as the car pulls away into the night.
“So last week, we got to go the premiere of that new reality show, Salon Wars?” she announces. “Oh my god, it was wild ...”
But as she talks, I quickly zone out of what she’s saying.
I’m too busy thinking about how this should feel way more awkward than it does right now. I mean, here I am, crushed in between two total beefcakes – both with toned muscular bodies and honey gold skin, their shirts stretched tight enough across their torsos to show that they’re totally ripped underneath – so I should feel self-conscious and shy, right? But for some reason I don’t.
Maybe it’s the booze, but I’m actually enjoying this closeness. It may sound strange but I actually feel ... well, safe, here between them. Not to mention utterly tiny. I mean, these guys are huge. I keep stealing glances at their arms, either side of me, and in particular my attention is drawn to a long, curving scar on Maxwell’s forearm. I almost want to just straight up ask him about it. Almost. But I swallow back my question, figuring I can maybe ask it later.
Pretty soon the cab has pulled up outside a swanky looking apartment building, down by the waterfront, and as we get out, I start to pick up on a frosty vibe from Lisa. She’s clearly not used to being ignored.
She gives me a look that I can’t quite read – like she’s asking herself why they’re paying so much attention to me and not her. And to be honest, I’m thinking the exact same thing.
“This way ladies,” Mason says, leading us into the lobby, as the elevator doors swish open ...
* * *
“Ho-leee shit!” Lisa exclaims as we step inside the apartment. “This place is incredible.”
She’s right – it’s surprisingly big, and really tastefully laid out too. I’d kind of been expecting some bro frat boy party house or something, but this place? Well, it’s actually just really nice. There’s built in bookcases lining most of the walls, and over on the far side a whole floor to ceiling wrap around window, giving us a breath-taking view of the city below, the lights of the nearby buildings sparkling and glittering on the softly lapping water in the harbour.
“The nightclub business must be good!” she adds, strolling around the large open plan room, taking everything in with her wide blue eyes.
I have to admit, I’m doing the exact same thing. I notice there’s also really cool modern art on the walls that looks original – not just prints – and over in the corner is an antique bar. Yep, these guys definitely have taste.
“Please, take a seat,” Mason says to me with a smile, indicating the large leather chesterfield sofa on the far wall.
I do as he says, a pang of self-consciousness shooting through me as I feel his eyes following me as I sit down; my slim body totally on display in this stupidly tight dress.
“Can I get you both a drink?” he adds.
“You have any champagne?” Lisa chimes, turning from the window and batting her eyelashes at him.
“And for you, Fawn?” he says, shooting me a glance, a half smile playing on his thick sensuous lips.
“Um, anything is cool, thanks,” I croak, trying to ignore the embarrassing dampness in my panties.
I quickly cross my legs, trying to force my brain onto a new topic: anything in fact except imagining Mason without his shirt on.
As Mason strolls over to a large steel fridge in the open plan kitchen area, pulling out a bottle of champagne from it, I turn to Maxwell, who by now has come to join me on the sofa, hands folded in his lap, that big scar curling on his forearm, his dark eyes burrowing into me.
Think Fawn, think.
But again I can feel my brain fogging up with naughty, sexy thoughts – which is honestly really unlike me. I can feel my nipples hardening beneath my dress, as the tension builds and crackles in the room, each second I sit here next to this totally smoking hot guy, who still hasn’t even said a damn word.
I force myself to look at him, ignoring the throbbing ache between my legs, as my short-circuiting brain finally stumbles onto a suitable topic of conversation.
“So I’m guessing you guys are brothers, right?” I say to Maxwell, hearing the obvious tremble of nerves in my voice.
There’s a pause, like he’s about to speak, but instead he just smiles and shakes his head.
“I’ve lost count of the number of people who think that,” Mason calls back from the bar. “No, we might look the same but we’re just friends. Always have been.”
“Oh my God, yeah you totally look like brothers!” Lisa chimes in just then, skittering over on her crazily high heels to join us on the couch. “That’s so funny!”
Mason strolls over with the drinks, placing two champagne flutes down on the polished glass coffee table in front of Lisa and I. I reach out and pick up my glass with a shaky hand and take a reassuring sip, savouring the cool crisp taste of the bubbling liquid, hoping the alcohol might calm my pounding heart. I don’t know much about liquor, but I can tell straight away that this stuff is expensive, so I sip it slowly. But from the corner of my eye, I can see Lisa glugging almost her whole glass back in one.
Oh Lisa.
I feel a sharp pang of embarrassment for her. I mean, sure I’m a bundle of nerves too, but she’s going way over the line with her flirting now – flicking her hair, pouting her lips – and for a moment I feel like we’re transported back to High School. It doesn’t help matters that she’s been throwing her drinks down at double speed all night, and now I can sense that she’s getting really wasted.
“Do you have any siblings?” Mason says, slipping in next to me on the couch, his unflinching gaze once more piercing me – like he can see right into my damn soul.
Stay calm, Fawn.
“Oh, no, growing up it was just me,” I explain in the most confident voice I can muster, glad to have something to talk about, to take my mind off the pooling heat in my panties. “And Lisa, of course. We’ve been best friends forever ...”
“Jesus, nobody wants to hear about when we were kids, Fawn!” Lisa interrupts with a snort. “God, that’s so boring.”
“Actually?” Mason says in a surprisingly serious voice. “I think you can learn so much about a person from who they were growing up. I bet you were a very thoughtful child, weren’t you Fawn?”
“Thoughtful!” Lisa laughs sarcastically. “That’s one word for it!”
“What do you mean, Lisa?” Mason asks, confused, his dark brow knitting as he waits for her to continue.
“Another word for it is totally boring,” she shoots back with a mean smile. “Little innocent Fawn here never wants to have any real fun. But I want to party. How about you guys?”
And with that, she picks up her glass and throws back the rest of her champagne in one long gulp. I feel my face turning beet red at her awful behaviour, and soon all sets of eyes are on her.
“What?” she asks, looking around at us all, totally puzzled. “What did I say? It’s true. She is boring.”
“Hey,” Mason says, his face growing serious as he narrows his eyes at Lisa, “that wasn’t a particularly nice thing to say.”
“Oh, really?” Lisa shoots back, her lips pursed in a venomous snarl now.
“Yes, really,” Mason adds, and I notice that Maxwell nods solemnly in agreement.
We’re all looking at Lisa now, and I can tell she knows she’s overstepped the mark. It’s subtle for sure, but I sense that she really is embarrassed, and despite everything, my heart goes out to her.
“Whatever,” she mumbles, slamming her empty glass down on the coffee table with a loud clink. “Come on, Fawn, we’re going.”
She stands up, expecting me to follow her, but before I even get to my feet, Mason has reached out and laid his hand gently on my arm – sending a flash of fire through every nerve in my body, my senses reeling.
“No,” he says calmly, “we want Fawn to stay.”
“What?” Lisa replies, her features thrown into total confusion now.
“Why don’t you stay a little longer, Fawn,” Mason says, turning to me, his eyes blazing into me once again, his hand releasing from my arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“Fuck this,” Lisa snaps back. “Fawn? Come on, let’s get out of here. This place sucks anyway.”
She gives me such an icy stare in that moment that I feel I have no choice but to follow her, and I push myself reluctantly up off the couch and making to join her in the hallway.
“Fawn, wait,” Mason growls, forcing me to turn and face him. “You don’t have to go with her, you know? Do you do everything she says?”
I can hear Lisa drunkenly clattering around in the hallway now, trying to locate the door. “Hello-o? Fawn? I’m leaving?” she calls back angrily.
“Stay a little longer, Fawn,” Mason urges in that deep low grown that sends another shockwave of desire through me. “I feel like we’ve only just started getting to know each other ...”
I stand rooted to the spot, totally conflicted, my eyes moving from Mason to Maxwell – who is looking at me with the exact same dark fire in his eyes too – and I just don’t know what the hell to do.
I mean, the sensible part of me tells me I should go after Lisa, but at the same time, after the things she just said about me, do I really want to? And I know its probably dangerous to stay here alone with a pair of guys I hardly even know, but again I get that weird feeling of safely from them – like they really do mean everything they’ve said. And on top of that, I do want to get to know them better ...
“Fawn?” Lisa calls. “I’m calling an Uber now. I’ll be waiting downstairs. You’ve got three minutes. And if you don’t get in this cab with me, don’t think I’ll answer the door when you do decide to come back ...”
A moment later, I hear the slam of the apartment door, followed by the heady silence of the apartment.
I look first to Mason, then to Maxwell, then back towards the hallway, totally unsure what to do next.
2
What the hell am I doing? I think.
Because here I am, sitting on this plush leather sofa, once more sandwiched between Mason and Maxwell, and right now I can hear my cell phone buzzing and chirping like crazy in the purse by my feet – no doubt Lisa sending me a barrage of text messages and calls, demanding to know why the hell I didn’t leave with her just now.
So why didn’t I?
If I’m totally honest, I can’t quite explain it, but let’s just call it being spontaneous for the first time in my life.
“You shouldn’t have to put up with her saying things like that, you know,” Mason says gently, breaking me out of my worried thoughts. “If she was your real friend she wouldn’t treat you like that. I mean look at us. We’re best friends and we’ve never quarrelled over anything.”
It’s so crazy. They’re both flat out staring at me now, their big dark eyes burning into me, and was there something in what Mason just said – some insinuation, maybe? My head’s starting to spin and I can feel my heart drumming hard in my chest and my clit throbbing and my nipples growing hard and this whole situation feels like some surreal dream or fantasy. Because even though I’m usually totally clueless at picking up on signals from guys, the ones that these two are sending out right now are pretty damn impossible to ignore.
“I guess its always been that way,” I admit, hearing my voice trembling a little as I try to ignore the pulsing waves of animal heat coming off them both. “I’ve always been in Lisa’s shadow.”
“That’s crazy,” Mason says, his voice low and resonant. “You’re beautiful.”
The word knocks the air right out of my lungs. Did he really just say that?
“It’s true,” he adds, moving a little closer toward me on the couch. “You’re special, Fawn. We knew that the moment we set eyes on you.”
I look over at Maxwell for a half-second, his eyes catching mine as he nods in agreement, then I turn back to Mason, my whole body quaking as I know deep down what’s coming next.
Somebody pinch me – because this has got to be a dream.
I close my eyes as I feel his hand softly move to my face, cupping my cheek in the rough warmth of his fingers as he leans in toward me, his face moving toward mine, the spicy scent of his cologne filling my senses, my slender body shivering and quaking at his touch, my eyes closing as his lips finally touch against my own.
Holy shit.
I can’t help but let out a soft moan of pure pleasure as I give myself up to the kiss – which is totally perfect, totally delicious: slow and tender yet smouldering with a powerful intensity just below the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.
And I know this is totally crazy and unlike me (I mean here I am, kissing a guy while his best friend watches on!) but I just can’t stop myself. This just feels so ... fucking ... right.
I push back harder into him, just as his hands move into my hair and his tongue pushes deeper into my mouth.
I sigh and writhe, overcome by shivers of pure pleasure as I feel his hands starting to explore my body. Nothing too forward, just his fingertips softly raking up my sides. And then, somehow, while he’s still kissing my mouth, I feel his lips touch against my neck too.
Wait ... what the hell?
I pull away in confusion, and it takes me a moment to figure out what’s happening. Then it all slots into place.
Those weren’t Mason’s lips.
Those were Maxwell’s lips on my neck.
I turn toward him in open-mouthed surprise, registering that his eyes are blazing with the exact same dark fire as Mason’s. And in that moment, it’s like something primal inside me, something totally animal and beyond my control, takes over my senses – making the decision for me. Because, before I even know what’s happening, I’m kissing Maxwell now, just as hard, just as passionately as I was kissing Mason a moment ago.
I moan softly into his mouth as the kiss quickly becomes charged with a powerful tension, feeling his hands slipping into my hair, while a moment later, Mason’s lips move to my collarbone, tracing it with delicate kisses of his own.
Oh my God.
I know this should feel wrong – but holy hell! It’s amazing. I feel like the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world, crushed here between these two smoking hot guys, as they both cover me in tender kisses, quickly working me up into a state of shivering pleasure between them, their roving hands on my body now, as I turn from side to side, stealing more hungry kisses from Mason’s lips, then back to Maxwell, and then ...
All of a sudden I come snapping to my senses, like someone’s thrown a bucket of ice water all over me.
What the hell are you doing, Fawn? a stern voice inside me says.
This is TWO guys.
This is crazy.
“Wait, wait, stop!” I cry, forcing out from between them and standing up, turning to face them both, my face flushed and my heart still pounding, my whole body quaking with yearning and my panties totally drenched.
“This is crazy,” I announce in a shaky voice. “I’m ... I’m not normally like this.”
“Relax, baby,” Mason smiles, still so easy and calm, like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “We don’t need to rush anything.”
“No, uh, I think, I think I should go,” I stammer, my heart still pounding and my face burning, my whole body still tingling from their attention – like every damn nerve is blazing with fire.
“Stay with us, Fawn,” he adds gently. “There’s a guest room you can sleep in. We don’t want you to go back to that girl, not tonight after what she said to you. Come on, it’s late. Crash here, just for tonight?”
I take a deep breath, weighing up my options before I answer.
“Alright,” I sigh. “But no more kissing, okay?”
“Whatever you want,” Mason assures with a warm smile, and Maxwel
l nods in agreement.
* * *
The guys both lead me through to the spare room – which I have to admit is incredible; just as breath-taking as the rest of this gorgeous apartment. It’s painted in a pure, bright minimalist white, with a sumptuous looking double bed standing in the centre, a hundred times more inviting than Lisa’s couch. The moment I set eyes on it, my body just cries out to be buried beneath those sumptuous white sheets. And – holy shit – there’s an actual bath in the room too!
“Woah, this place is amazing,” I blurt out, unable to hide my awe as I look around me wide-eyed.
“Glad you like it,” Mason laughs. “Because tonight, it’s all yours, cupcake. Anyway, we’ll leave you to get some sleep.”
As the two leave the room, closing the door gently behind them, a weird part of me is actually kind of sad that they’ve gone. Not that I wanted things to get hot and heavy again, but even so, I was enjoying their company.
I quickly shrug off the confines of that stupidly tight dress, then dive happily beneath the rich Egyptian cotton sheets, savouring the warmth and comfort, a million miles away from that cramped Greyhound bus seat. But as I turn onto my side and close my eyes, I discover that I’m still too worked up to go to sleep. My mind is flitting around all over the place like a pinball – from Lisa, to Mason, to Maxwell, and back again.
Deep down, I know they’re right. I really shouldn’t let Lisa treat me that way. But at the same time, they don’t know about that other side to her, the one where she can be truly warm and funny and awesome.
And I know I’ll need to make it up to her, first thing tomorrow, but right now all I want to do is sleep.
I snuggle further beneath the soft rumpled sheets, tossing and turning, but my thoughts keep returning to that delicious kiss on the sofa – which now just seems like one long never-ending kiss in my memory, even though it was with both of them – and the feel of their hands on my face, in my hair, on my body.
