The Girlfriend (The Boss)

by Abigail Barnette

  Neil’s pleasant half-smile didn’t falter, but his demeanor shifted just enough that I could see the tension in him. “I would like you to help me fuck Chloe.”

  A slow smile bent Emir’s mouth. He looked me over, what he could see across the table. My hair was swept up in a sleek French twist and I wore a short, slinky slate dress Neil had picked out for me in Paris. The wide straps and square neck bared plenty of cleavage. Cleavage Emir definitely appreciated, judging from the way he rubbed the side of his index finger over his bottom lip as he appraised me. Finally he looked up to Neil, shrugged, and said, “I enjoyed our last encounter. I enjoyed lunch. Why not? Will this be a three-way, or—”

  “I believe it will be mostly voyeurism on my part, though I would like to be as involved as I can manage,” Neil said.

  There was something so dirty, bad, and completely wrong about listening to these two men discuss fucking me while I was right there, listening to every word.

  Emir’s broad grin dimmed just a little. “One moment. I told my wife I would call her if I were going to sleep with the two of you, and I need to get my bag.”

  “Oh. Um.” Neil coughed. “Certainly.”

  Emir took out his phone, held up one finger, and excused himself from the room.

  “His wife?” I tried not to shriek.

  “If she’s all right with it, what’s the harm?” Neil asked, in the same tone one would say, “let the puppy chase the butterfly, what’s the harm?” He frowned slightly. “I’m agreeing to the same type of thing Emir’s wife would be agreeing to, you don’t seem too eager to discuss the moral implications of that.”

  “Okay, I see your point.” I bit my thumbnail. “I suppose it’s okay. I mean, I really hope it’s okay.”

  He slid an arm around my waist. “You want to fuck him.”

  “I do.” I loved that I didn’t have to lie to Neil. “So do you.”

  “Would that I had the energy.” He chuckled, and it wasn’t bitter the way he had been sounding lately.

  “Hey, you’re calling me Chloe again?” I asked.

  He nodded, his slight smile combining with his words to take my breath away. “Sophie is my sub. I have no problem sharing Chloe. But you, Sophie... I want you to be only for me.”

  I took his hand and pulled it across the tabletop. “Always, Sir.”

  Emir came back into the room, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “All right. So... where shall we go to do this?”

  My throat stuck closed. I looked to Neil. I really hoped he would say right here, right now, because the anticipation was killing me.

  Ever since he’d proposed the idea, all I’d been able to think about was the night at the club, and Neil watching me getting off with someone else. I knew the experience had been powerfully erotic for him, as well.

  And I wanted Emir. Not only was he incredibly interesting and cool as a person, his sexual attractiveness wasn’t a subjective matter. It was absolute fact. He was so powerful and confident and when he looked at me, I felt like he could see into my head, to all the filthy things I imagined doing with him.

  When Neil looked at me, I was pretty sure he could see those things, too. Maybe that’s what turned me on so much about Emir; deep down, he and Neil were the same animal.

  “I did have a hope that this was a social call, and not about another Lambo,” Emir said with an easy laugh as we left the dining room.

  My knees trembled as we walked toward the elevator. Emir followed behind Neil and myself, and when I looked over my shoulder, his gaze was exactly where I’d expected it to be. I exaggerated the natural sway of my hips just a bit. I have a great ass, and I play to my strengths.

  When Neil took us up to the bedroom, I was a bit surprised. I would have thought he would keep another barrier there, between Sophie and Chloe.

  “Is this all right?” he asked me, leaning down to whisper in my ear at the same time he pulled me tight against his side

  “Yeah. If it’s okay with you.” I preferred the privacy there. The staff didn’t enter rooms without knocking, but they never bothered us when we were in the bedroom.

  Emir went to the chaise in front of the window and sat down. “Shall we discuss our terms?”

  “I’m down for anything except electricity, full-on punching, bodily fluids, or choking with belts or ropes.” When I heard it all tumble out of my mouth like that, I thought, Wow, Scaife, you’re really getting good at this! You could do a BDSM report on the news!

  Neil looked proud of me, too, and it sent a silly little thrill through me. He’d once told me he was happy to be my mentor in depravity, and I was glad I was proving a worthy student.

  Emir nodded, as though all that were reasonable. “And I would like to add that anything we do must be safe. I brought condoms, and dental dams. I would like to know how we are to arrange this. Will I be taking instruction from you?”

  “Some, if you wouldn’t mind. But I envisioned us working together. My goal in this is for Chloe to have the best possible time.” Neil stroked the backs of his fingers over the nape of my neck, and I shivered.

  “And you, Chloe,” Emir asked. “What would you like from this experience?”

  My face heated, but not from embarrassment. “To be perfectly honest, it’s been over a month since I’ve had sex. Which normally isn’t a big deal, but we were... “

  “Very active,” Neil said with a quiet laugh.

  “It’s no wonder.” Emir’s slow smile sent darts of arousal through every nerve in my body.

  “And what would you enjoy, Emir?” Neil asked, adding cautiously, “As I said before, I’m not sure how much I will be able to participate, so if your interest is mainly in Chloe, I won’t be offended.”

  “Ah, another time for us then, perhaps?” he grinned at Neil. “All right. We agree, Chloe is the focus today.”

  I got a little kick of pride at the thought that he was already looking forward to a return engagement with us, and we hadn’t done anything yet.

  “I use red and yellow as safe words,” I told him with a shrug. “And to be honest, I’m kind of nervous. Can we leave the kink mild today?”

  “Of course. Nothing you are uncomfortable with.” He looked to Neil. “And I would prefer you stay in the room with us at all times.”

  “I’m more comfortable with that, myself.” Neil’s palm turned and possessively covered the back of my neck. “Chloe, why don’t you stand up and take your dress off?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I stood up, and my panties were already wet and stuck against my shaved vulva. I went to Emir and sank to my knees in front of him, with my back to him. “Could you help me with my zipper?”

  The long drag of the fabric parting down my back seemed like it went in slow motion. My rapid pulse sped blood to my clit, and I almost moaned when Emir’s fingertips brushed against my back.

  My mind flashed back to Paris, to the heat and intensity in Emir’s dark eyes as he’d worked to make me shatter beneath his hands.

  I stood up and slipped the top of the dress down, then stepped carefully out of it and plucked it from around my ankle. I tossed it to Neil, and he dropped it on the floor beside the bed. I almost laughed at the hunger I saw in his gaze; there was a beautiful elation in seeing him this way again.

  Emir stood up and slowly approached me, drawing slow circles in the air with his index finger. “Turn. Let me see all of you.”

  The gray lace thong matched my bra, and the lace tops of my thigh-highs. I turned in a slow circle. My black YSL pumps made whisper-soft scuffing noises on the carpet, and I heard every one of them. Already, I felt my mind beginning to align itself with my body, any thought beyond anticipation and pure sexuality fading quietly away. Submission was such a nice mini-vacation, in that respect, a pleasure cruise through sex with heightened senses and emotions, and no thought to the outside world until.

  “Very nice.” Emir’s gaze dropped to my feet. “Take off your shoes.”

  That was a change. Usually, Neil liked
me to leave my shoes on. I looked to him for confirmation, and he nodded with an amused crook of his lips.

  As I stepped down from one high-altitude heel, Emir caught my hand and gently steadied me. He held on until my soles touched the carpet then he dropped to one knee. His splayed palms bracketed my slender calf and slowly glided up, hesitating at the top of the lace band. “I like these. But I’d like to take them off of you. May I?”

  I nodded, wetting my lips.

  “Chloe, unhook your bra,” Neil ordered me, and I moved automatically to do as he bid.

  “Oh, yes, definitely unhook your bra, Chloe,” Emir teased, his knuckles brushing between my thighs, tantalizingly too far from my clit.

  “Should I take it off?” I asked, sliding a strap down my arm.

  “Yes, please.” Emir leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my thigh through the stocking. Then he reached up and gripped my panties, pulling them roughly down. “Take these off, as well.”

  He buried his nose against me through the lace, and I gasped, swaying on my weak knees. I peeled the panties off slowly, dragging them down the slope of his nose as he nuzzled against my sex.

  Neil stepped up behind me and helped slide my bra the rest of the way off my arms, baring my tight, puckered nipples to the slight chill of the room. Or maybe the room was fine, it was just my body temperature that had gone through the roof. His big hands pushed my panties down my legs, and I stepped out of them as Emir dragged his tongue across the line where my thigh met my stocking.

  “You can lean back on me,” Neil murmured against my ear. I reached up with one arm to hold on to his neck, enjoying the slide of his clothing against my bare skin. His palms skimmed beneath the curves of my breasts, cupping me.

  Emir caught the lace top of my thigh-high between his teeth and slowly peeled it down, looking up at my shocked expression with amusement. I don’t think anybody had ever undressed me with their teeth before. When his mouth no longer sufficed, Emir carefully rolled the stocking down and whipped it from my foot with a flourish. The silk dangled from his fingers. “I very much enjoy a woman’s stockings. Do you want to know why?”

  I caught my bottom lip in my teeth as I nodded. Neil’s hands moved down my sides, to grip my hips, his fingers digging into the firm flesh there. Emir’s hand skimmed up between my thighs, the stocking whispering over my skin.

  “Take hold of it on your side,” Emir said to Neil, and they both held opposite ends, Neil the lace top and Emir the toe. With painstaking care, Emir slipped his fingers into my cleft and over my clitoris, tucking the silk around the rigid nub. He pulled up on his end of the stocking, eliciting a cry from me. Then, climbing to his feet, he took one step back, and then another. That was as far as he could go; silk doesn’t stretch much. But there was space between us, and he beckoned with a crooked finger. “Take a step toward me, Chloe.”

  “Wait.” Neil let his end of the stocking drop, then knelt on the floor behind me. He rolled the other one down. Once it was free of my foot, he shook it out and wrapped it snug around my ankles.

  “Good idea,” Emir said, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how they both knew exactly what was going on when I hadn’t the faintest clue.

  Some of it probably had to do with the fact that all the blood had rushed away from my brain and into my aching cunt.

  “But with silk?” Emir went on, watching as Neil worked.

  “I have scissors nearby,” Neil told him. “In the drawer of the nightstand closest to the window, in case any issues arise.”

  Normally, I might have been horrified to hear someone casually discuss cutting up an article of my clothing, but I was too far gone to care. Emir waited until Neil stood and took his end of the stocking between my legs, then repeated his earlier instruction. “Come toward me.”

  The moment I moved, I knew exactly what they had done. The silk tucked between my folds slipped over and around my clit as I attempted a step. My bound ankles only prolonged the agony, because I couldn’t do more than shuffle forward with great effort. Balancing was a trick, and I threw my arms out to my sides. I was a tightrope walker of a different kind, it seemed.

  I reached Emir with three teensy, tottering steps. He leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek, my jaw, to my ear. “Maybe we should do this until you come,” he said, low enough that it was an intimate threat, loud enough that Neil would have certainly overheard. All three of us stood practically on top of each other.

  Emir reached down and caressed me through the silk, his fingertips smoothing along my slit, then pressing deeper to find my clitoris and rub in slow circles.

  Stepping up behind me, Neil dropped his end of the stocking and cupped my breasts, his thumbs skating over my nipples. He kissed down my neck, finding the magical spot behind my ear that always made me come undone.

  Holli had once told me that a threesome can either be a lot of work, or a lot of fun. This one was turning out to be the latter. I felt almost guilty at the amount of attention I received. Emir rolled my clit and the stocking between his thumb and forefinger, and I shuddered, close to the breaking point as Neil’s mouth and hands helped to overwhelm me.

  “Are you close, Chloe?” Emir asked, teasing me. “So soon?”

  “When she’s close, she’ll close her legs as if she’s trying to keep you away,” Neil told him over my shoulder. Then his teeth sank into that shoulder, biting a little too hard to be gentle, and my thighs clamped around Emir’s hand.

  “Why don’t we move to the bed?” Emir suggested.

  “My ankles,” I said, dizzy and out of breath from being brought so close to the edge. When Emir swooped me up in his arms and carried me, I realized what “swoon” meant.

  He laid me on the bed with my knees over the side and crouched to untie my ankles. “Do you have those scissors?”

  Neil went to the bedside table and retrieve them, and with a quick snip, my legs were free. Emir knelt between them. He pulled his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it, and tossed it aside.

  Strange as it seemed considering our previous physical intimacy, I had never seen Emir any kind of undressed. He looked just as good out of his shirt as he had in it, with broad shoulders, and abs that stood testament to a grueling gym schedule. I wanted to touch all that tight, brown skin, sink my teeth into his muscles, and I was pulled under by a wave of lust not unlike the one I’d felt in that hotel room with Neil six years before. The lure of the forbidden, the knowledge that I was getting incredibly intimate with a stranger... I suppose I’d never realized how much of a turn on that was for me. Perhaps it was why I’d bounced from purely sexual relationship to purely sexual relationship during my post-college, pre-Neil years.

  The fact that Neil was totally okay with me indulging that particular thrill pushed my arousal higher; my entire body became an erogenous zone, primed for sensation. He climbed onto the bed behind me and pulled my arms above my head. The gentle pressure of his hands on my wrists would increase, I knew, should I try to move them away.

  Emir went to his bag and retrieved a dental dam, peeling the latex sheet from its packet as he returned to me. The rubber was hot pink.

  “Oh my gosh, super cute,” I squealed breathlessly. “I didn’t realize they came in a color besides dentist office green.”

  “All sorts of colors. Flavors, in fact.” He grinned at me. “This one is bubble gum.”

  I looked up at Neil and caught his smile. He was fond of telling me how good I taste to him, and I’m sure he was pleased to keep that privilege all to himself.

  I held my breath as Emir pressed the thin sheet against my vulva. I’ve never found the use of dams to detract from oral sex; there’s something fun about the different feeling of a tongue poking and sliding at you through latex, as opposed to the equally enjoyable hot, wet touch of barrier-free oral.

  When Emir’s mouth closed over my clit, my hips bucked, and my pubic bone hit him in the nose.

  “Oh my god, I’m sorry!” I sat up quickly, and
Neil released my wrists as I did. “Are you okay?”

  Emir sat back on his heels, laughing. “Yes. My eyes are watering, but yes.”

  “I had no idea this would be so dangerous,” Neil chuckled.

  “Well, I’m sorry, I had no idea he was going to be so good at it.” I covered my hot face with my hands, mortified.

  “Perhaps we should begin more slowly?” Emir suggested, still rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “There are restraints tucked under the mattress,” Neil said, his gaze meeting mine for a guilty second.

  “Are there?” I sat up more, watching as Emir reached beneath the duvet and fished two padded cuffs from under the mattress.

  Neil blushed, which is always adorable. He was open and honest about sex all the time, so it seemed extra charming when he got embarrassed. “They’re just soft restraints. They’re only held in place by weight. I thought they were a fun novelty to keep handy.”

  “Very useful for avoiding facial injuries,” Emir joked as he wrapped the wide strap around my calf, just below my knee. “Maybe a bit snug, but they’re velcro. They’ll let go if they are too tight. You are okay with this?”

  “More than okay. It’s a good safety precaution.” I spread my legs and let him secure them. I pulled just a little, as a test, and heard the pop of velcro letting go. So, they weren’t restraints so much as reminders.

  Not that, “Don’t break Emir’s nose” wasn’t a good enough reminder.

  The dam had fluttered to the bed, so he tossed it into the trashcan and went for another one. This time, though, he only opened the package and didn’t take it out. Instead, he settled down to nibble and suck his way from my knee, up my inner thigh, and nearly to my vulva before starting all over again on the other leg. He repeated until I was panting, whimpering, and shamelessly humping the air whenever his cheek brushed against me.

  “Tell him what you want,” Neil told me, a hint of amusement in his voice. “He might not give it to you, but I’d so enjoy hearing you beg.”

  I laughed ruefully, hissing through my teeth when Emir’s tongue laved the bend of my knee. “Please. Will you make me come?”