Victoria's Secret Wish

by Piper Denna

  “He’s uh…a good bartender.”

  Vic nodded. Was it possible she understood how much he’d needed to talk to somebody about their situation? Could she know how much he felt, that this hadn’t been only sex for him, not since waking up in their bed the first time?

  Britt cleared his throat. “Right, then. Shall we dine?”

  * * * *

  Could this dinner possible take any longer? David was seated with Britt on his left, Carmyn on his right, and Vic directly across from him. While her foot in his lap had provided the high points of the night, he didn’t much like watching Rafe whispering things in her ear. Judging by her eye rolls, she wasn’t wild about it, either. “Should change his name from Wyndham to Wyndbag,” he muttered.

  Britt shouldered him in an effort to show good humor. “No doubt.” Rafe had spoken to Britt twice, once calling him “Bert” and the other “Brent.”

  On his other side, Carmyn completely missed their conversation. She’d been stuck with endless questions from Mick most of the night. How that dumb reporter had managed to get seated right next the captain…oh. The captain did seem to share a hell of a lot of looks with Mick. Eww. Must be what Vic had meant about the captain being busy. How did she know so much?

  And how did she manage to give him the foot job of a lifetime under the table, without giving it away at all on her face?

  Sitting still was hard as hell.

  “Hey, I know who you are.” Rafe tilted his head at David, narrowing his eyes. Shit, here it was. “Auditions for the movie about the surf contest.”

  David breathed. Hadn’t noticed he’d been holding it. “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “Did you get the part, then?”

  He nodded. Might as well go with the story. Surfer, surfer acting the part of another surfer…not such a stretch.

  “I knew you would.” Rafe grinned. “I put in a good word for you. Bill–that’s the producer,” he explained to everyone else, “values my input, as we’ve worked together on so many films now. Had to pass on that film, myself. I had another project with conflicting schedules. I knew from the moment we met you had talent, though.”

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.” What a dummy. Did Rafe really think he was an actor?

  Beside him, Britt shook…laughing? Yep. Trying to keep it in. Well, it was funny as fuck. Hell. Now he could barely keep a straight face. He placed his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  Men’s room. Where the hell was it? Oh, there. He made a beeline, hoping nobody noticed the bulge from Vic’s attention. Thank God he had the room to himself. It might be a sex cruise, but he wasn’t wild about the idea of whipping out a hard-on to pee in a public restroom. He’d barely worked his cock out of his slacks, when the door banged open.

  Britt, doubling over, laughing, reaching up to slide a bolt into place to lock the door. That was a little strange.

  “Oh. Hey.”

  “Hallo.” Britt straightened and wiped his eyes. “That bugger. Such an idiot.”

  “Yeah. I still can’t imagine what Vic saw in him–”

  “Bloody hell, don’t.” Britt held up his hands, all traces of laughter gone. “I’ve hated that man since we had theater troupe together at university. Seeing Vic with him sent me through the fucking roof. I’d rather not relive it.” He positioned himself in front of the urinal. “I can see where Vic’s left foot has been.” Once he’d worked his sizable erection out of his pants, it was obvious Vic had been busy with both feet.

  Holy shit, the guy was hung. It wasn’t his first time seeing Britt’s cock, but–

  “David, we need to talk.”

  Oh, hell. Staring. He’d been staring at Britt’s dick. First rule of restroom etiquette–Never let ’em see you seeing their junk. “Er. Talk?”

  Britt finished up, zipped up, and headed to the sink to wash up.

  He’d better wash too.

  When Britt was done drying his hands and had tossed the little hand towel into the basket, he leaned against the marble wall. “About Vic,” he motioned with his hands between them, “and us.”

  Shit. Was he so transparent that Britt had figured out he was in love with Vic? Did everybody on the damn ship know? He couldn’t speak, so he nodded, hoping Britt would get on with it.

  “I want your help with something.” Britt took David’s towel, tossed it in the basket behind him, looked at the floor. “Something you might not be terribly comfortable with.” His blue eyes looked up, met David’s. “I want to push her past all reason. Make her lose control.”

  He had to be talking about sex. “You think she’ll like that? Won’t it make her mad?” Assuming she’d even let them.

  Britt chuckled. “I think she’ll positively hate it. At first. She’s going to fight it and try to take the reins back.” It would be so hot, to see her let loose, let them get her off, their way. Britt put his hands on David’s shoulders, maintained eye contact. “There’s one thing that’ll drive her wild, if you’re up for it.”

  Driving Vic wild? His dick was hard all over again, just thinking about it. “Whatever it takes.”

  Chapter 22

  At least that was finally over. Now for the fun part of the evening. Victoria kicked her sequined heels off, sending them sprawling against the wall. She turned and looked at her men, both of whom she’d managed to grope in the elevator. Both of whom were hard, because she’d spent the evening making sure they remained that way. This would be a night to remember.

  They were staring at her. Well, she’d wanted their attention. Best go with it. “Enjoy your dinner?” she asked David, loosening his tie.

  He gave her a scalding smirk, pulled her close so she could feel his erection.

  Britt crowded up behind her. “Dinner was quite good. You, however, Vic, were very bad.”

  She giggled. Wow, it felt nice being smashed between them. “First dirty, and now bad. Guess I’m on a roll today.”

  “Bad girls need to be punished.” Britt nuzzled the back of her neck, under her hair.

  Punished? “Not spanking.” She hoped. They’d had that discussion, and it wasn’t for either of them.

  David kissed down the front of her neck, toward her cleavage.

  “No, love.” Britt grabbed her butt through the flouncy dress she had on. “More like a time out.” Time out? What– “You’ll have to sit out and watch, whilst we have fun.”

  Interesting concept. Only, she knew it would never work. What fun would they get up to without her? More time on the Wii? If they thought they’d waste their last night together playing stupid virtual sports games, she’d give them another think. Working one hand behind and one hand in front, she cupped each of them through their dress pants. David pressed up tighter into her hand and groaned. Britt tensed, then backed away.

  “Ah-ah. No.” He pushed her hand away. “David, care to use those muscles for something useful and give her a carry, out to a lounge chair?”

  David opened his eyes and seemed to remember what he’d been up to, backed up a step and hefted her in his arms, a grin on his face. Well, she’d just nibble a little on his neck on the way out there… Oh yeah. He smelled great, like that sport cologne he always spritzed on, and tasted salty-hot. He groaned again, squeezed her tighter, then deposited her on a chair outside on the half-lit patio.

  Britt shook his head at her. “Still not following the rules.” He leaned down, his arms on either side of her. “Let me clarify. You don’t get to touch–either one of us, or yourself, unless we tell you to.”

  She felt her eyebrows lift. As if! “Really? And what will you do if I choose to ignore your little rules?”

  “Then we’ll tie you to the chair.” David spoke up, leaning over the back of the chair so she could see his face.

  What was more shocking–David actually speaking, or the idea of being tied in her own suite? “With what?”

  “David brought a rather extensive collection of trainers, if I recall. With more th
an enough laces to secure one unruly redhead to a deck chair.”

  They’d tie her up with shoestrings? “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes but wouldn’t laugh at their ridiculous plan. No, scratch that. She did laugh, and gave Britt a quick kiss.

  “You’re in good hands,” Britt murmured. “Four of them. So just keep yours right here.” He put her hands on the sides of the chair. “And let somebody else handle the details this time ’round.”

  They acted like it’d be such a hardship for her. If she had a buck for every time Britt had muttered control freak… She’d show him, though. She was perfectly fine with being in the passenger seat. Keeping her hands glued to the chair, she shrugged her shoulders. “Knock yourself out.”

  Britt looked up at David, and cocked his head to the side. She missed David’s response, but Britt nodded. Both of their hands went to work removing pins from her half-up do, letting the hair loose around her face and shoulders. The pins clattered onto a nearby table. David moved around front to her right, and Britt kneeled at her left. Like a choreographed dance couple, they moved in, a set of warm male lips nibbling each side of her neck, Britt’s with a slight rasp of stubble, David’s face softer against her shoulder. No complaints so far. Goosebumps raced along her arms and legs as they both suckled and breathed in her ears. Her instinct was to raise her hands up and cup their faces, pull them closer, but she could restrain herself.

  Britt cupped her breast through the dress, and David did the same. Mmm. Her nipples responded immediately, pressing hard against the fabric. Whoa, wet already. She squeezed her legs together–they’d never notice–and relished the pressure of panty against her folds. Britt’s big hand worked her entire breast, while David focused on the nipple. Should she moan to let them know what they were doing was working?

  Britt tugged her forward so she sat upright, and David worked the zipper down the back of her dress. They worked so well together, still both sucking at her neck, panting, pressing the dress down… Oh God. Two hot, bare hands on her breasts, two mouths moving down as they settled her back. Both guys sucking her nipples–one head of dark hair, one head of blond, David’s hands moving, one up to her neck where he’d been, the other down, pulling up the hem of the dress. Britt’s hands…where’d they go? Zip. Clink. Ah. Losing the pants. Maybe she’d get a taste of him soon. He pulled her breast deep into his mouth. The tugging reverberated all the way to her core, lit fires down below, making her even wetter.

  She whimpered and he moaned, vibrating sexy desire against her breast.

  “Vic.” God, he was worked up. From her foot job at dinner? Or more? He had to have been thinking this through, planning this. No wonder. Sex on the mind always resulted in mindless sex for Britt. He’d snap soon and she could have her way with him–give him what he needed and get hers.

  As for David…he was putty in her hands to start with. No resistance there. His breathing had already quickened. He gave up his quest inside her dress to try and get his pants off blind, finally pulling away from her nipple to look down and fumble his belt open. Shirt, take off the shirt. As if hearing her, he looked up, met her eyes. She loved those eyes of his. Open, honest. Vulnerable. Kiss me. He did, and she couldn’t get enough, could never take all she needed, before he pulled away to strip out of the shirt and the rest of his clothes. Lord, he was a sight. Perfect fucking body. She’d love every inch of it, every day forever, if given the opportunity. But she couldn’t think that way, couldn’t let him see the tears brimming. So she blinked, left her eyes shut to capture the image and erase the thought. No more thinking like that–this night was for enjoyment, and she intended to get all the good she could from it.

  When she looked up, David stood tall, stroking himself, his hand quietly rasping the soft skin of his glans with each pass. Let me taste it. If she begged with her eyes enough, he’d eventually notice.

  Britt still worked her nipple. Did he plan to make her come that way? Maybe not, since his hand was now working its way up her inner thigh.

  She licked her lips. Surely David would get the hint. Shiny pre-cum beaded on the tip, and she could all but smell it, taste it. If only he’d let her. He stared down at her face… What was going through his head? Was he planning, imagining, wishing? He moved toward her. Finally. She’d get a taste.

  But no. Instead he knelt again, went back to work across from Britt. God. Knowing he was so close…within reach. If she couldn’t get a taste, maybe just a little feel…that slippery heat on her fingers. Britt would never know. She reached her right hand down, found her target. Hard, smooth, warm. She whimpered and arched. Now. She needed one of them now.

  David made something of a purring sound and thrust into her hand. Before long, he’d need her as much as she needed him. Her fingers tightened around his velvety shaft with his thrusts, her thumb slipping across the head.

  Britt’s mouth popped off of her nipple. “What the…” He stood, casting his tie aside, and unbuttoning his shirt in jerky motions. Why did that make her think he was mentally rolling up his sleeves?

  David watched him with half-closed eyes. He’d stopped thrusting, but remained kneeling, with her hand around him.

  “All right then.” Britt tossed his shirt onto the next chair. “Vic, you broke the rules.”

  Fat chance he’d be able to tie her up, with David’s cock in her hand. David surely wouldn’t stand for it. She flashed Britt a smile and made a show of caressing David’s length.

  “Um.” David cleared his throat, and pried her fingers away.

  Mutiny.

  She cast him what she hoped was a withering glare.

  “Babe.” Poor guy was caught in the middle, his eyes begging forgiveness, his cock betraying whatever he and Britt had planned, while his hands joined Britt’s regime. “Sorry.”

  “She knew better,” Britt told David. “Shall we go fetch the strings?”

  He couldn’t be serious. If he tied her up–if he took her out of play, he’d find out what a dry spell was, once they got home.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said in a low voice.

  Britt’s eyes snapped back to her face, narrowed. “It’s all fun and games until some bloke takes the wheel from Vic, is that it? Once, just one time, we’d like to give you pleasure. Is that so much to ask?”

  She simply returned his stare.

  “David.” Ah, his Boss-Voice, the one nobody else disobeyed. “Go get the shoelaces.”

  Run. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Her heart raced like it would explode. Maybe already had. He wouldn’t restrain her, if she asked. If she promised to keep her hands to herself. If she begged.

  Fuck that.

  She turned her face away. Let him try what he wanted–let him see how much pleasure he could give her against her will.

  “Ah. So it’s like that.” Britt’s voice lowered.

  She hadn’t heard David leave. Had he refused? What a shit position for Britt to put him in. Maybe he hadn’t gone, so Britt was pissed. Maybe he had, and Britt was talking to her. Who the hell was he talking to? She couldn’t turn her head back to see. No way.

  “Well, then.” Britt had on his business-voice. “You think David’s cock needs stroked? Will that pleasure you? Or him?”

  Hopefully both. She’d show no sign of listening, let alone answer. Maybe he’d give up this stupid plan and they could go back to having a good time. This sucked. Why was she lying here with a dress bunched up around her middle, looking stupid and weak instead of walking away? She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to avoid tears.

  Someone moved near her face. David’s side of the chair…had he left? She opened her eyes and saw him rubbing his own cock, waiting for her to notice. Poor guy was trying, she had to give him that. But Britt had to learn–she wouldn’t let him order her around, and she sure as hell didn’t need help in bed. She did just fine on her own, and he didn’t have a single valid complaint about her skills.

  Nothing wrong with the sight of David’s fingers aro
und his cock, or those firm, hairless balls. If she could keep a poster of this very image, she would.

  But it wasn’t going to get her off.

  “You’ve seen that plenty of times, haven’t you?” Britt sounded dangerous, on edge, standing behind her. “Even though it’s David, nothing?”

  She wouldn’t reply. Fucker.

  He bumped the back of her chair in a quick move around to David’s side. “How about this, Vic? You’ve sure as fuck never seen your husband’s hand on another man’s cock. Is that stimulating?”

  She wanted to close her eyes, but Britt stood at David’s side, his right hand over David’s, soon followed by his left on David’s shoulder. Holy hell. He intended to stay there for awhile. David sucked in a breath, then moved his hand from under Britt’s, his abs quivering.

  Stimulating? Yes. Especially when Britt closed his eyes. She looked back down to find David had taken Britt in hand, too.

  Fuck. It had to be awkward for them, but it was hot as hell for her. Her fluids gushed anew. Part of her wanted to pretend she didn’t like it, that Britt hadn’t known what she’d wanted. But the rest of her just watched. Maybe if she sat still, if she didn’t grab, didn’t touch herself–though, dear God, she needed somebody to touch her soon–they’d continue. To keep her hands from shaking, she gripped the chair sides tight.

  Both of David’s hands worked Britt’s cock, and as his breathing sped up he hunched over, leaned toward Britt. Britt gave her wink, then rolled his eyes and hunched over, too.

  Still awkward? Hard to tell, without seeing their faces. The eye-level action with their hands looked pretty damn hot. And that rhythm couldn’t be the product of anything but good, raw desire.

  David curled closer to Britt, breathing with his mouth open. God, all those hands and cocks, if he was feeling what she was seeing…no wonder he pressed his face against Britt. She’d like to press her face against something, too. And her crotch, against anything. She throbbed, fought off dizziness and the need to grab something. This must be how addicts felt–knowing better, barely resisting, sweating it out. How long ’til she gave in?