by Piper Denna
Britt flinched and she looked up to see David’s mouth latched onto his shoulder, much the same way he’d latched onto hers only a few days ago. David was leaving his mark on both of them.
White knuckles on the hand Britt had on David’s shoulder. And that cord in his neck stood out, the one she always saw when he tensed before coming–no, Britt wasn’t feeling awkward at all now. “Close?” he whispered.
David nodded, lifted his head away, but didn’t let go of Britt.
“What say we let Vic out of that dress?” The cord in his neck disappeared; impending orgasm postponed.
David’s glazed blue eyes met hers, then glanced down at Britt’s shoulder. He’d definitely left a mark. “Sorry.” Why’d it feel like he apologized to her? He must have no idea how much they’d turned her on, getting turned on by each other.
Britt shook his head and let go of David. “Never mind that. Actually, think there’s room for both of us under there?” He pointed to her dress.
There certainly was room for both of them. After a few crass words over her wet panty, they went to work removing it, and both kissed their way up her inner thighs. Warm lips, rough chins, caressing fingers, none of them touching her where she needed it most. She might pass out. Or die. She tried not to think of being touched there–that only added to the agony. Instead, she imagined Britt had finished David off in front of her… and what if David had finished Britt, too? Would they take it that far? Another wave of heat and wetness washed through her.
“I think she’s ready,” Britt murmured. “You?”
David grunted something affirmative, and both heads emerged. They helped her to her knees, then David kept her upright with his hands on her ribs, kissing her while Britt pushed the dress down over her hips. She pressed her legs together, helping get the dress past, but also giving her clit that much-needed contact. Where to put her hands, since she wasn’t allowed to touch either of them? She decided on her hips, but then Britt came up behind her, covered her hands with his, slid them down, over hips and inner thighs, just missing contact. Teasing. With his fingers threaded through hers, he kissed her neck, shoulder, cheek. So close to her mouth and David’s, it was all but a three-way kiss. She shuddered between them and her breath hitched. Good thing they were there to hold her up.
“Bed,” Britt murmured. Whether he intended it as a question or command, she liked the idea–maybe they’d had enough fun torturing her.
David lifted so her legs straddled his middle while he carried her to the bedroom. Britt made it there ahead of them and turned on a lamp in the corner. David leaned over the bed until her back rested on it, then let his weight settle onto hers. Bliss, as she wriggled her legs apart so he rested between them, coming into contact with her sensitive, needy folds. She kissed him, drawing his tongue into her mouth. Please, let him decide to mimic the action with his cock. David pushed himself against her, but didn’t penetrate.
More teasing.
“Waiting for one of these?” Britt tossed a couple of packets on the bed beside them and smiled down at her.
Jesus. Good thing he’d remembered.
David cleared his throat and rolled off of her. Britt took his place. Familiar, yummy, kiss-in-all-the-right-ways Britt. She arched, hitched against him, hoping. Maybe if she begged…
“Vic. Ah, God.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.
David tore open a condom. “Go for it, man.”
Would he? If he’d even just touch her, or let her touch herself, or anything…
“Bugger it.” Britt eased back a little, then slid inside her in a slow, deep thrust.
She let out a ragged sigh, her world spinning as she arched up to take him deep, deeper. Britt twitched inside her, or maybe she throbbed around him. A couple more passes like that and she’d have the release she was dying for.
He pulled out and pressed in again, slower than last time. Controlling himself and her to the bitter end. It might be agony, but the agony was sweet, especially with David standing there all sheathed and ready to go. Britt rolled off to her left and pulled her to her side, facing him. With some sort of hand signal, he directed David, who slid onto the bed behind her. Oh, God. Right between them again. Perfection. Britt pulled out and David’s fingers made their way through her wet folds. Whoa. She even sounded wet. David’s cock slid inside, smaller than Britt’s, but still filling her, making different contact. He groaned against her neck, somewhere under her hair. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.” His breath caught; he was so close, and then he pulled out, gasping for air. “You’re up.”
Wow. Incredible control–the boys intended to keep this going as long as possible.
Britt didn’t hesitate, but pressed into her from the front again. Maybe he’d stick with it this time. The friction–oh God. She needed it more. His lips met hers, then slid along her jaw to her ear, again not far from David. Goose bumps hit, she shivered, and Britt sped up. Behind her, David moved away, cursed, and a snapping sound told her he’d removed the condom. Must’ve decided he was done inside her.
Britt found her clit with a finger, pressing in circles while he pumped in and out, his other hand on her breast.
David’s breath tickled her spine, his hand got into the slipperiness again and dragged it back, up her crack toward him. God, what was he up to? She’d come in just a few more thrusts, he should be working on himself if he wanted to come too…but she didn’t have the breath to tell him. Britt’s cock was hitting her g-spot and his thumb had her clit, and David’s fingers…no, the head of his cock, oh geez, slipping and sliding against her hole, not trying to get in, only giving her the best rubbing action ever.
“Ohhh,” fuck…yes…something, but words got stuck, with her world gone black and her breath all gone and her body clenching tight between the guys, her spasms milking them all.
David’s hand clenched on top of Britt’s. He groaned and thrust tight against her, hot jets shooting up inside.
Britt rammed home, making them shake with him. She let it all go, screams, tears, gasps, and the massive wave of wet below, coming and coming until she knew she’d die with one more spasm.
Chapter 23
David zipped his duffel shut. All his things were packed up, neatly this time, and he’d be ready to leave after breakfast.
Physically, anyway. Not mentally, though. Why couldn’t the cruise be just a few more days? His body wasn’t ready to leave them, either. He still had another ten days until he had to resume training for Paris. The prospect of long days with nothing to fill them, to keep his mind off things… Hell. Dan would try to hook him up with chicks. Any normal guy his age would be excited at the prospect. But he never could do things like normal guys.
Now he had to put on his game face, go eat, and pretend to be okay with telling Vic and Britt goodbye for good. Well, not for good–forever. Forever wasn’t good in this case. This would be for the best, knowing what a mess he’d already made of his public image. But today, thinking about forever made him feel like puking.
He hefted his bags and carried them out near the front door, stacked one on top of the other. Game face, game face.
At least he had that thong of Vic’s to remember this by. Nothing of Britt’s… The things they’d done last night. Shit. It was definitely for the best to forget about that. He got a semi remembering, and God knew he couldn’t have the public finding out about that sort of thing–he’d be just another gay swimmer in their eyes. He didn’t want to be labeled as gay. Hell, he didn’t want to be gay. Had never wanted another man’s hands on him. Things had definitely gone too far on this little adventure. Good thing it was over. He wasn’t gay.
“Are you ready to eat?” Vic stood at the patio door, looking elegant and professional and hot as all fuck in some pale green designer pantsuit. It’d be soft, he knew. Everything she wore felt nice against the skin. Her eyes looked brighter green than usual, and she seemed pretty damn happy. Well, what else did he expect? She’d gotten what she came here for, and she obviously was
n’t feeling any regrets.
She hadn’t asked him to fall in love with her. He’d done that all on his own, like a moron.
Game face. He faked a smile.
When he reached her, she pressed herself against him, put her arms around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. He shouldn’t be kissing her–should be pulling himself back a little at a time–but it felt so right, warm and soft against him, she tasted so good. Maybe a little salty, or that could be him, tearing up like some lovesick kid. Fuck.
He broke the kiss and gave her ass a little squeeze, for extra manliness.
She smiled, took his hand, and led him to the table.
One more breakfast out in the sun.
Britt had dressed up, too, in a shirt and tie, the jacket hanging over the back of a chair. Jesus, he felt like the damn poor relations in his khaki shorts and t-shirt.
They ate, talking about the last wild flings going on by the Lido pool, which played on the monitor. He and Britt managed to act like a couple of ordinary buddies, not two guys who’d done what they had last night. Good. That would make it all easier to forget, or at least convince himself it had only been a show for Vic. It should make him feel better, could mean he wasn’t half-gay.
“I think it’s time.” Vic’s pretty peach cheeks glowed out in the sunlight. Some artist should paint her. She looked at Britt, who smiled and cleared his throat.
“Vic and I have a proposition for you.” Britt leaned forward. “We want you to come and visit us, at our home. Any time you’d like.”
Just pop on by for some three-way sex.
“We’ll arrange all the transportation, fly you right to the Mountain,” Vic said. “Come and go whenever it fits into your schedule.” She put her hand on his knee. “We–I–” She glanced at Britt. “We care about you, David. We don’t want this to end.”
They both cared about him? He liked it, but he didn’t. Some other guy had feelings for him? Made him want to puke even more, mainly because he felt more for that guy than he should. He wouldn’t become some confused sex toy. He wouldn’t.
“No.” He pushed Vic’s hand off his knee. He felt like the hooker in Pretty Woman. It’s a really good offer for a guy like me. Except they’d always be the couple, and he’d always be some damn outsider showing up to add spice to their otherwise perfect sex life, then he’d leave and be alone again. Fuck, no. “This ends today. I can’t afford to show up on some tabloid news show in a headline about three-ways. It might happen already if that guy Griffin doesn’t keep his mouth shut or Peyton or your actress friend, or God-knows-who-else. I’ve got my entire career ahead of me, but if I screw up my reputation any more, I won’t have sponsors. Which means I won’t have a career.”
Vic shook her head. “If you come to the Mountain, nobody’s going to see you, or know.”
“Would you be willing to meet us somewhere?” Britt asked. Looking for a loophole, just what a lawyer should do. And why should he be negotiating for this? He had his wife; they’d had their fun. This couldn’t matter to Britt, and he couldn’t concern himself if it did.
Vic’s face had lost that glow and she was swallowing often, pressing her lips together. Going to cry.
Time to end this and make his escape. “Look.” He pushed his chair back. “This was a mistake. Coming on this cruise was a mistake. I thought I could sneak on board, and then do anything I wanted and the paparazzi wouldn’t know. But then I got here, and I realized how many people could leave and talk about who they saw.” Game face. “Once we hooked up, hiding out here was the perfect solution to my problem. It’s been fun, but really, I’m not after a long-term thing.”
Vic looked like she’d seen a car run over a kitten.
Britt still looked like a lawyer. “You mean to say you don’t care if you ever see us again?” He tipped his chin up, narrowed his eyes. “If you ever hold her again?”
Oh, he cared. But he sure as fuck didn’t need Britt treating him like some damn charity case he was willing to share his wife with. Time to end this conversation, before he ended up spilling his guts. “I can get laid in any city I travel to.”
Vic flinched, but he wasn’t sticking around to watch any more. He stood and went for the door. “Thanks for everything, though. It has been fun.”
His shoes. He still had to put his damn shoes on. Fuck. He sat down on the couch and shoved his feet in, but the laces needed loosened. Fuck, fuck. He didn’t want to hear when she started crying. That had been a mean thing to say, and she didn’t deserve it. He got the laces loose enough to get the shoes all the way on. Hell, he’d tie them out by the elevator. He hurried to the door, had one bag looped over his shoulder, when Vic put a hand on his arm.
Day of reckoning. He turned. Tears poured down her face.
She put a business card in his free hand. “Here.”
Fantasies, Inc.
Victoria West-Grant, proprietor
[email protected]
1-888-FANTINC, Ext. 1
“In case you change your mind, please call. Or email.”
Goddammit, she looked so fragile, so hurt. “Vic. Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re more than a lay. I just can’t do it, though. I can’t be the third wheel.” He pulled her against his chest, crushing the card in his hand.
“It’s not like that.” She sobbed against his chest. “We love you, and want to spend time with you.”
Wrong in so many ways. How’d they get here? If she kept crying, he’d start too. “Really, this isn’t what I want.” What is it you want? Hadn’t that been the businessman’s line in Pretty Woman? And she’d wanted it all. The picket fence, marriage… “When I get a little older, I need to find somebody–one somebody–and settle down. Get married. Have what you and Britt have. I can’t spend my life being the outsider, an add-on.” They’d always have each other–look how they kept planning to invite him for things, sex, moving into their suite, coming to their home. It was always them throwing him crumbs.
“God.” She squeezed him tighter, sobbed again. “Please, promise you’ll think about it.”
He couldn’t think about it, or he’d make the biggest mistake of his life. Pushing her away, prying her arms from his side, he closed his eyes for strength. “I can’t.”
She stepped back, and he saw Britt leaning in the doorway.
He lifted the other bag to his shoulder, pulled the door open, and dropped the crumpled business card on the little table by the door. “Goodbye.”
* * * *
Victoria melted against Britt. This wasn’t at all how she’d expected today to go. She’d woken up hoping David would want to go home with them. Stupid of her to assume something so far-out. Somehow, she’d thought he was in love too. But she’d obviously misread him.
“Vic. Love, I’m sorry. We’ll figure this out. Give him a few days. I’ll contact him.” But Britt didn’t sound very convinced. He had to be hurting too. Poor guy. What a mess.
They had a press conference soon. As planned, but not publicized, the ship had arrived at port during the night, so passengers could make an early morning exit hours before the press expected them. Anybody wanting to make an anonymous departure had the chance. She and Britt, however, would be meeting and greeting long into the afternoon. No doubt there’d be questions about the blog leak. “Ugh. Peyton should be here any minute with her blog post. I’d better go fix my makeup.”
Britt stepped back and looked at her, his brows drawn down. “Right. I’ll call Mark and have him bring the agreement over for her to sign. But if you’re not up to it, we can cancel the press conference–”
“No, no.” She’d need the distraction. Plenty of time to feel hurt and sad after they got home, when it wasn’t so fresh. “I’ll be out in a few.”
She heard a knock at the door just as she freshened her lipstick. All traces of the smeared makeup were gone, and she’d smoothed on new in its place. From the voices out in the living area, both Peyton and Mark had arriv
ed. She stopped and slid her shoes on. Then, holding her head high, went out to meet her Judas.
Peyton’s eyes looked much puffier than hers, and she wore an unattractive pout while she read the contract pages in her hand, seated at the writing desk. She looked up when Victoria pulled a chair over. “Not really fair, since you’ve got two lawyers here and I’ve got none to check this out.”
Victoria wasn’t in the mood for any shit. “If you’d rather, you’re welcome to phone a lawyer from the county jail.”
Peyton rolled her eyes.
“Victoria wasn’t the one who broke your agreement,” Britt said. “You were.”
“You really think this is going to make this whole cruise top-secret?” Peyton looked at them, but picked up the pen. “You can’t enforce a gag order on everyone.”
“True enough,” Mark answered, “but they can make an example of you, and show any would-be copycats what happens if they attempt to transmit during subsequent cruises.”
Acting as if she hadn’t heard Mark, Peyton narrowed her eyes on Victoria. “What have you been crying about, anyway?”
Certainly not brokenhearted by your betrayal, you little snit. “That’s personal, and since you can’t be trusted, you’ll never know. So where’s your blog post?” Victoria held out her hand.
Peyton got busy signing both copies of the document. “There. And here’s the blog copy.” She shoved a handwritten page across the desk toward Victoria. “Can I go now?”
“You should take a copy of the contract, which Victoria and I have to sign,” Britt said. “But only after ascertaining your post meets my specified criteria. Also, you’ll be uploading it with the iPad, since you’ve demonstrated such skill in doing so.”
“Why don’t you guys leave us alone while I review this,” Victoria suggested. Let Peyton sit in silence while she read. That dead-air time worked wonders when trying to get somebody to open up, and she still had some questions for the aspiring journalist.
