by Selena Kitt
They were still, just breathing together, as if moving might force some sort of action. Tasha didn’t want to break the quiet, and after a while, Ashley even stopped stroking her hair. She wondered if she’d fallen asleep—but Tasha couldn’t sleep. She didn’t think she was going to get any sleep this weekend at all.
“What’s the little red light that just went off over there?” Ashley asked softly, startling Tasha and making her head go up.
“What red light?”
“Oh, there…” Ashley half sat up on her elbows, pointing. “It’s on again. Behind the vent.”
Tasha sat, too, looking toward where Ashley was pointing. She didn’t see it at first, but when she tilted her head, there it was, a small red light lost in the dusky dark of the vent cover. What in the world?
Tasha stood and walked over to the wall, picking up one of the stools and putting it under the vent. When she stepped up on it, Ashley was behind her, holding it steady, as Tasha peered into the vent cover. Her stomach dropped when she saw the lens cover, the cord attached—it was unmistakably a camera.
But who? And why? Tasha sat down on the stool, meeting Ashley’s puzzled eyes with her own wide, frightened ones, and realized that the question, “Now what?” had never before been more forefront in her mind, for more reasons than she could count.
Chapter Ten
“Well, look who’s home—it’s the Motorbunny Queen!”
Tasha gritted her teeth, whirling around at the sound of her neighbor’s voice. A six-foot privacy fence separated their property and that of the Pattersons’. Ray Patterson’s head popped up over the top and he grinned down at her.
“Hello, Ray.”
“Champagne?” He raised his heavy eyebrows and grinned. “Having a party?”
Tasha hugged the bottle closer to her chest. She hadn’t seen or talked to him in the twenty-four hours since he’d dragged his wife away from their Motorbunny group party in a huff, and in the mystery and confusion of she and Ashley discovering the camera hidden in the basement, she had almost forgotten about her contentious neighbor.
“I liked the last party at your house we were invited to.” Ray was still talking, as if she had responded. Tasha bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to roll her eyes. The man had strong-armed his way into an invitation, and now he was claiming she invited him? “How about we have a private little party…” He lowered his voice and leaned over this fence slightly, his eyes dropping to the front of her blouse. “Just you… and me… and that little girlfriend of yours.”
Tasha swallowed hard and straightened up. “And what would your wife have to say about that?”
Ray laughed out loud, his teeth flashing white in the twilight. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“I don’t cheat on my husband.” She turned her back to him and started toward her own side door. Ray’s next comment stopped her.
“So, that means hubby knows what you two are up to while he’s at work?”
“Excuse me?” She stiffened, facing him again. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest and she took a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Hey, Mrs. Ryan from across the street came up to me the other day asking about you, ya know.” He changed the subject smoothly and Tasha frowned at him. “She kept asking me about all the people going in and out of your house all the time—wanted to know if you were selling drugs or something.”
She blinked at him, stunned. It had never occurred to her that her neighbors would even notice, let alone assume…
“I told her you weren’t.” He reassured her with a wink. And then said, “But I could have told her the truth.”
“And what…” Tasha swallowed, forcing the tremble from her voice. “And what, exactly, is the truth?”
He crossed his arms over the top of the fence and leaned his chin on them. It looked like a casual thing, but Tasha saw the glint in his eyes. “I think you at least have to have some sort of a license for this thing you’re running out of your little basement, you know…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and it was such a phony gesture that Tasha would have laughed—if he hadn’t followed it up with his next comment. “I wonder if it would be legally considered prostitution?”
“The Motorbunny Club is not illegal,” she insisted, hoping her stiffened spine and haughty demeanor belied any of her sudden doubts. “And even if you wanted to tell the authorities about it, I’m sure they’d be interested to hear that you made a visit to my little basement with your wife and had a great old time.”
Ray held his hands up in a warding-off gesture, chuckling. “Hey, I’m not threatening anything here…”
“No?” Tasha softened a little but her eyes pinned him narrowly still, watchful, waiting.
“No… see… I was just wondering…” His smile turned up at the corners, his gaze dropping again, this time to her short hemline and the tall boots she wore. “If you and your girlfriend wanted a little company in the afternoons?”
She couldn’t believe his arrogance. “If we do, I’ll let you know.” She turned back to the house, ignoring his last remark.
“You do that!”
Her cheeks felt hot as she set the bottle of champagne down on the table and she was glad Max wasn’t in the kitchen. She needed a few moments to compose herself. It was the camera that had made her forget all about her neighbor, she realized. Ashley had known right away who that camera belonged to.
“Your husband’s been watching us,” Ashley had whispered as they left the room. They both whispered, at Tasha’s insistence—she didn’t know if the camera picked up audio or not.
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Tasha before the words were out, but there it was, and she knew it must be true. Who else?
“I don’t—” Tasha wanted to deny it but found she couldn’t.
They sat at this very kitchen table that night, she remembered, each of them ironically wearing one of Max’s t-shirts which Tasha had retrieved from his drawer, and talked.
“Are you mad?” That was the first question Tasha asked her and she couldn’t believe the relief that pulsed through her when Ashley shook her head. She said her next question more to the air than to Ashley, “Why hasn’t he said anything?”
“I think he’s scared to tell you he knows.” Ashley sighed over her mug. Tasha had made orange tea, partly because she knew Ashley loved it, partly because she was incredibly restless and it gave her something to do, but more because she loved watching her girlfriend warm her hands around mug. They looked so small and delicate.
“You really think… he’s been watching us?” Tasha rested her chin in her palm, her eyes searching, intent on the window, as if she could see through it to Max in his hotel room. There was only darkness there, and a faint glimmer of her own reflection. Was he trying to catch her at something? Was he just curious about what went on in the Motorbunny room when he wasn’t there? The latter she wouldn’t put past him… but the former? Max was a straightforward sort of guy. If he knew something, if he felt slighted by her, she knew he would say something. So why hadn’t he?
“I know he knows.” Ashley’s words were almost swallowed by the mug at her lips, her eyes downcast to the table. “He told me so.”
Tasha stared at her, open-mouthed. “He… what?”
Her girlfriend tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “A few weeks ago… remember when we were working on the site?”
Tasha nodded, feeling as if she was doing so in slow motion. Ashley had mad computer skills, she discovered, and had re-vamped the original Motorbunny Club website. They had chat rooms, forums, a blog, all sorts of interesting toys to play with now in the cyber collection. They were even applying to be a Motorbunny dealer.
“He stopped me on my way out to my car that night.” Ashley’s eyes still stayed focused on the table, where she traced her finger around the wet ring her mug had made. “And he told me he knew about us.”
Tasha stared at her. M
ax knew? Max knew, and he had approached Ashley instead of her?
“Was he mad?”
Ashley shook her head, spreading the wetness on the table in a back and forth pattern now. “He told me he was okay with it… he said… he said he could see how much we… cared about each other.”
Tasha considered this, weighing it against what she knew about her husband. It was true, he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body. They’d talked about opening up their marriage in some sort of polyamorous capacity, had even taken steps toward doing it, putting ads on adult sites looking for another woman. It was a whole other world, they discovered, and bi-women who wanted to be with couples were apparently very rare—so rare, everyone wondered if they really existed and sardonically dubbed them “unicorns”. It was either laugh or cry, she supposed. When they didn’t have any luck finding someone, and Max’s job had begun to take more of his time, and Tasha found her new interest—Motorbunny porn—the idea had just sort of dropped off the radar.
Ashley had said more that night, Tasha remembered. Much more. She and Max had stood outside talking for quite a while, leaving Tasha to play on the computer with the new website, losing track of time entirely.
Now, staring at the bottle of champagne on the table, she wondered at herself, how she had missed the signs?
When Max came back from his talk with Ashley, she’d been oblivious. He’d taken her to bed, and they’d had incredible sex, and even when he brought the fantasy of another woman into their hot little session (which happened often—that was nothing unusual) and then, afterward, asked her more about Ashley—what did she do? Where did she live? Was she straight? Gay? Bi? Instead of getting a clue, Tasha had sleepily answered all his questions and then drifted off to sleep.
Max knew. He’d apparently known for a while, and whether he had set the camera up to get “proof” (which she doubted) or he had put it in because the thought of watching women getting off on the Motorbunny in his own basement while he couldn’t even watch was too much bear, it didn’t matter.
She had asked Ashley that night the very thought that went through her head now. What am I going to say to him?
Part of her was furious at him for putting the camera in. Lord knows, if any of her clients knew they were being taped, there would be major consequences. But she rarely ever got truly mad at Max—she was very indulgent with him, and she couldn’t blame him, in a way, for wanting to watch.
Then there was the subject of Ashley… how to bring that up? She just didn’t know.
“Tash?” Max’s call brought her out of her reverie and she picked up the champagne, turning toward the sound of his voice.
“In here!”
Max stopped in the doorway, raising his eyebrows at the bottle. “What’s this?”“I’ve got good news.”
“So I gathered!” He leaned against the door frame, smiling. “And?”
Tasha held up the bottle and grinned back at him. “The Motorbunny Club is officially in the black!”
“You’re kidding?”
Tasha grinned even broader. “We’ve paid for all the new equipment plus the renovations to the basement!”
“Damn, girl!” Max grabbed her around the waist and Tasha laughed as he hugged her close. She held the bottle of champagne out of harm’s way. “Let’s get some glasses and celebrate!”
She let Max uncork the bottle while she got two champagne flutes down from the top cupboard and gave them a good rinsing out—they didn’t have cause to drink like this very often.
Max poured for them both and lifted his glass to her. “To my incredibly beautiful, smart, talented and inventive wife…”
Tasha flushed with pleasure, clinking her glass with his. “And to my tolerant, open-minded husband.” Sipping, she mmm-ed at the taste, light and fresh. “I forgot strawberries. That would have been perfect.”
Max put his glass down on the table. “Want to go downstairs and celebrate some more?”
Tasha smiled as he slipped his arms around her, this time holding her glass out of the way as they embraced. “What did you have in mind?”
She shivered as he began to nuzzle and kiss her throat and groaned out loud when his hand moved to her breast and his thumb found her nipple.
“You, me, and a fucking machine?”
Tasha laughed. “Sounds like a kid’s book… from hell.”
Max chuckled, squeezing her nipple through the material and making her squirm. “What do you say?”
Tasha reached over to put her glass on the table. “How about just you and me… upstairs on our bed?”
“Uh oh…” Max raised his eyebrows. “Are we getting tired of the Motorbunny?”
“No…” Tasha was thinking of the camera in the basement. “I just want to be with you tonight.”
Max pulled back from his exploration of her throat to look into her eyes. “It is sort of like having a third person in the bedroom, isn’t it?”
“A little…” Tasha blinked at him. “But an actual third person would be much more… complicated.”
“Maybe…” He rubbed his thumb over her chin, looking thoughtful. “Remember how we talked about doing that?”
“… yes.” She nodded slowly, trying to ignore how fast her heart was beating. The thought of having both Ashley and Max together in bed…
“Would you still consider it?”
“Yes.” Tasha cleared her throat. “If—”
Max finished the sentence with her. “We could find the right woman.”
That was always the rub, the place they stopped, where desire met scarcity. They hit that wall and stared at each other blankly, not sure how to surmount that obstacle.
But now there was Ashley. The woman had fallen right into Tasha’s lap—and if she told Max that Ashley was willing, which Ashley had stated clearly and unequivocally she was, even though her face was beet red at the time, Tasha remembered…
“Race you.” Tasha turned in his arms, slipping out of them before he could even think about catching her. Her boots slowed her down though—she had forgotten she was wearing them—and he caught her at the top of the stairs, tickling her down to the floor.
She laughed and screamed and squealed underneath him—it was nothing she could help, but he loved it, regardless. It made his cock stiff against her thigh and she felt it pulsing there even as she giggled and squirmed to get away. Max wasn’t having any of it, though, pressing his weight down against her so hard she could barely breathe let alone laugh. His fingers found all those sensitive, ticklish places along her ribs and she gasped and laughed silently, tears streaming down her face.
“Stop!” she panted during a brief tickling break, twisting under him like a landed fish. She was turned all the way to her belly now, and she felt the hard ridge of his cock against her bottom as he grabbed her hands and held them above her head.
“Who’s your daddy?” he asked against her ear, grinding his cock against her behind.
Tasha giggled. “You are.”
“Say it,” he insisted, his motion edging her skirt up her thighs. She felt his belt buckle biting her flesh through her panties now.
“No!” She laughed, squirming again, trying to get away.
“Say it!” He held her wrists in one hand now, using the other to tickle her under her armpit, making her squeal with laughter.
“Max!” She screamed, kicking her feet, her boots making hollow sounds against the carpet. “Okay! Okay! You’re my daddy! Stop! God! You’re my daddy! You’re my daddy!”
He let her go, rolling off, and she leapt up, heading to the bedroom and shutting the door. Still panting and giggling, she unzipped her boots, tossing them into the corner, and unbuttoned her blouse, keeping her back to the door. She was nearly naked, wearing only her panties, when he tried to get in and met with the resistance of her weight against the door.
“Hey!” The door handle turned back and forth. “Let me in.”
She giggled. “Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.”
> “Well then, I’ll huff…” Max caught on quick, and Tasha squealed, sounding not unlike the little piggie she was playing, and laughed out loud, putting more of her weight against the door. He was making headway and she was definitely losing ground.
“And I’ll puff…”
“No!” Tasha made a leap to the bed, rolling onto it just as the door burst open. Without any more resistance, it flew against the wall and Max stumbled in, nearly falling and only catching himself at the last moment on the edge of the bed.
He crawled up over her nude, still giggling, form. “You are a naughty little piggie.”
“Oink.” She agreed, reaching down between them to rub his cock—still hard. In fact, even harder.
“Are you a greedy little piggie?” His eyes darkened as she unbuckled and unzipped him, reaching into his boxers so she could squeeze him in her hand.
“Oink.” She agreed again, grinning as she slowly stroked him, making him groan.
“Come here and oink around this for a while…” He rolled onto his back, shoving his jeans down his hips and setting his cock completely free. Tasha didn’t need any prompting. He stood up straight and throbbing, a delicious temptation she just couldn’t resist. She slid her eager, hungry mouth down onto him, working the lower half of his cock with her hand while she sucked and tongued the head.
Max grabbed a pillow, propping it behind him so he could watch her. She met his eyes, her tongue flicking over the soft skin, pressing against the spongy tip of his cock, teasing that sensitive ridge again and again. Soon his eyelids were drooping in pleasure, his eyes half-closed—but they never closed completely. She knew he loved to watch her suck him, to see himself disappear into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth.
“God, I’d love to see you suck my cock with another woman.”
The thought jolted her and although she didn’t stop, she slowed considerably, her tongue moving thoughtfully over his shaft. In a strange coincidence—or perhaps not so strange given their brief conversation in the kitchen— she had been thinking that very same thing. Only from her perspective, she longed to share his cock with another woman. And not just any woman, either. She’d been thinking about it, when she let herself admit the truth, since the first time Ashley rode the Motorbunny.
