He shuddered, almost violently. Glancing up, he realized both Tatum and Sidri were regarding him with narrow-eyed concern. Shit, he couldn’t afford to give himself away like this. Plastering on a smile, he met both their gazes and prayed they couldn’t see the turmoil in his heart.
“Sorry, guys. I’m just overwhelmed by the Versace deal. I mean, come on, two years ago I was just some dumb kid carrying around a hundred-dollar camera. And now…”
An understanding smile lit Tatum’s face, even as his eyes told Allen he didn’t buy that was the only thing bothering him. Sidri’s continued look of concern said she didn’t, either. Fortunately, they both apparently decided to let him have his secrets, because they kept the talk professional.
Sidri came around the table and hugged his shoulders, almost sending him through the floor with another punch of lust. She stood back and grinned at him. “Congrats, Allen. I told you it would happen. And not just the Versace thing. We still have big plans for you, you know.”
“Big plans,” Tatum echoed in a deeper rumble. Allen turned surprised eyes toward the monitor, certain he’d misunderstood the promise underneath those words. Tatum merely met his gaze, giving nothing away. Confused, Allen broke away first and returned his attention to Sidri.
She only had eyes for Tatum. “When will you be home?” Her voice took on a husky, sultry timbre on the word “home” that sent a shiver down Allen’s too-hard cock. He grimaced, wishing he’d thought to wear button-down slacks instead of zippered. Those damn teeth bit hard.
Not that it mattered to his wayward erection.
“Sunday,” Tatum said with a happy laugh. It took a moment for Allen to remember what they were talking about. Oh, right. The date of Tatum’s return.
Which meant he had to turn in his resignation Monday morning.
“Just in time for the Super Bowl,” Sidri chuckled. “Good timing. Well, we’ll look forward to your return to work. God knows you’ve been fucking around out there for much too long. About time you started earning that obscene paycheck again.”
Tatum snorted. “Uh huh. Whatever you say, Queenie.” Allen caught Sidri’s annoyed scowl and had to laugh. Tatum grinned. “Now that I’ve imparted my fabulous news, I’ll let you get back to enjoying your new office, Allen. I can’t wait to see how the Shelby chair worked out.”
Allen blinked. “That was you? You had that made for me?”
A shrug. “You deserve it. Just a little something to let you know how serious we are about keeping you.”
The words “keeping you” sent a totally inappropriate flutter through his heart. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, man. It’s really awesome.”
Tatum waved him off. “No worries. I’ll see you soon, and you can thank me in person. I’m looking forward to getting a chance to work with you for real, instead of over e-mail.” The last was said with an evil grin.
Allen forced out a laugh, grateful he was being dismissed. He had to get out of this room, away from these two people. It was already bad enough he was going to have to quit just to avoid giving himself away, but to keep thinking he heard sexual innuendos buried in their perfectly innocent compliments…
With a silent sigh and a wave, he let himself out. Just before he closed the door, he could have sworn he heard Sidri say, “Please tell me you’re alone in that room.”
Wondering what on earth she could be talking about, Allen headed back toward his office. It was a good thing he hadn’t had time to unpack his desk yet. He could put it off for the day and no one would think anything of it. He’d stay late, pack up his crap, and be out the door tonight with no one the wiser. Then when he e-mailed Sidri his resignation on Monday morning, he wouldn’t have to come back just to pick up his shit.
Allen closed his eyes, hating the tightness in his chest and the moisture threatening behind his eyes. It would probably kill him, having to leave this job. He’d been happier here than he’d been anywhere his entire life. But he couldn’t stay. Couldn’t face the prospect of spending day in, day out having his sins paraded right in front of his face. He wouldn’t do that to them or to himself. He needed to get out now, on his own terms, before it got ugly.
Dying inside, Allen entered his office and closed the door.
Chapter 5
“Please tell me you’re alone in that room,” Sidri scolded mildly.
Tatum, whose fingers were currently engaged in a stranglehold on his throbbing cock, figured it was a valid question. He wondered how she knew—the computer camera could only capture him from mid-chest up, after all. But then, he and Sidri had been able to read each other’s minds since they were three years old.
“That obvious, huh?” he chuckled. He started to push his chair back, let her see what he was doing, but she raised a hand and stopped him instantly.
“Don’t. Company line, remember? Anyone could hack in. Discretion is the better part of valor in any case.”
She was right, of course. Tatum sighed, but defiantly continued the slow hand job he’d started the moment he laid eyes on Allen. He turned a smoldering, somewhat accusatory glare on his best friend and lover.
“You could have warned me.”
Sidri laughed, unrepentant. “I did, remember? Repeatedly.” She sobered. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”
Tatum cursed the unsecured Wi-Fi signal that prevented them from speaking plainly. “Yeah, Sid. He’s the one. Plans?”
Her smile turned wicked and a whole lot hotter. “Starting tonight. Thank God you’ll be home by Sunday. Two years, Tatum.”
Tatum nodded, throat tight, as a million shared thoughts and feelings passed between them with no words needing to be spoken. Two fucking years. Two years that he and Sid had had to suppress not only their need for each other, but their desire for the beautiful, dark-haired angel they both wanted more than air.
Most people would never understand. Couldn’t understand. But he and Sid had lived on the same wavelength their entire lives. They knew each other inside and out, heart and soul. Love didn’t even factor into it. They were the same person.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for one more.
Christ, Allen was beautiful. Absolutely flawless face, with warm brown skin the color of a perfect cup of coffee with cream. Stylishly messy black hair, short and spiked and so damn sexy Sidri often lamented not being able to run her fingers through it. The gray suit jacket he wore today framed his shoulders so perfectly, Tatum wished he could run his hands over that gorgeous chest. And he was really cut, a fact made abundantly clear by the way his tight black undershirt outlined each and every one of his muscles. He wasn’t a large man, his Columbian heritage having stayed true to formula, but his presence was so electric, he seemed much larger than he was.
And yet, despite the physical perfection that should have made him an egotistical jerk, he was nervous and tongue-tied when they complimented him. The dichotomy of his obvious charisma paired with almost debilitating shyness absolutely fascinated Tatum and Sidri both.
After two solid years of lust and longing, there was no denying they were both head-over-heels in love with the guy. At least now that Tatum was coming home they could finally make their move.
Tatum crossed his fingers, sending up a silent prayer that they wouldn’t scare the man into running for the hills.
His history with Sidri was long and convoluted. Friends since birth, practically, they’d started off just buddies with similar interests. In college, those common interests began to include sex, and they’d explored that together too, though never as what others would consider a traditional couple. They both had some rather eclectic tastes, and pushing each other’s boundaries had become an interesting distraction while they worked to further their careers. They seemed to gravitate toward each other from the start, but some childhood tragedies had made Sidri refuse to consider the whole marriage, white picket fence, and 2.8 kids thing. Yes, she loved him, and he her, but there’d always been something missing.
One wild night dur
ing a college spring break trip had changed everything for the both of them. Seven shots of tequila, a moonlit beach in Hawaii, and a sexy islander named Xavier turned their world on its ear.
It began with the two of them meeting Xavier in a bar and eventually inviting him back to their room for a little fun between the sheets. They’d had dozens of threesomes, both with other women and with other men, so this was nothing new. That night, however, opened a whole new world of possibilities they’d never even considered before then.
It started simply enough. Tatum had been kissing Sid while Xavier stood behind her, kissing her neck. Then Tatum shifted, his forehead accidentally brushing the other man’s. He’d drawn back to apologize, just in case Xavier was uncomfortable with the accidental contact.
And Xavier leaned over her shoulder and caught Tatum’s lips in a kiss so hot, his shorts nearly melted.
What followed was a hedonistic, intensely sexual encounter that left both of them rocked down to the marrow. And definitely wanting more.
He supposed other guys would have been weirded out by discovering they were bisexual. Not Tatum. He’d embraced this heretofore unknown part of his nature and begged Sidri to help him explore it. Which she had, often and with great vigor. After several years of experimentation—and several dozen mind-blowing sexual encounters—they finally understood what had been missing from their relationship.
Before that pivotal night, ménage had just been a game they played, something fun to spice up their sex life. Now they realized they didn’t just enjoy having someone else in bed with them—they needed someone else with them. And not just anyone: another man. Having another male between them, taking him to orgasm together, filled a void they’d been trying to overcome since the very beginning of their relationship. Together, they were magic. Sharing the same man, they were electrifying.
Armed with purpose, they set out to find their third, the one man who would bridge the gaps between them and make them whole. They dated various men over the years, but no one really called to both of them. Not until they met Allen. One look, and they were both so head over heels in lust it was everything they could do to keep from dragging him home and tying him to their bed.
There were problems to overcome, of course. If Allen had any bisexual proclivities, he hid them extremely well. Either he’d never been interested in another guy, or he was one of those macho males who shunned the very thought, because he never responded to flirting. Still, he didn’t seem to be all that closed-minded, so until he gave an emphatic indication of his feelings, they kept the hope alive.
And obviously, being forced to stay eight thousand miles away for two fucking years hadn’t helped matters. He’d told Sidri—repeatedly—to go ahead and jump Allen’s bones alone. At least if Allen was with her, they knew he wasn’t going to be taken off the market by someone else. But Sid patiently refused.
“The plan stays the same. Without you, there’s no point moving forward. It’s both of us or neither, Tatum. End of story.”
On the one hand, he was grateful to Sidri for having the willpower to wait for him to come home. On the other, he knew it must have been torture to be around Allen every day at work and hide all that pent-up sexual frustration. Their late night phone- and Skype-sex sessions always surrounded the things she’d fantasized about doing to Allen that day. That Sidri was a consummate pro at weaving sexual fantasies only made it that much harder to wait for the day when they could finally make their move on the man they both wanted.
Two more days. After two years, a paltry two days should feel like nothing. It still felt like an eternity.
“Soon,” Sidri said, compassion and anticipation heavy in her voice.
Tatum gave his cock another slow stroke, enjoying Sidri’s muttered curse when she noticed him doing it. He chuckled. “So. Tonight? Where?”
She smiled. “Here. At the office.”
Now it was Tatum’s turn to curse. “You sure that’s wise?”
A shrug. “Friday night when everyone is leaving early? No biggie. And no one will be here over the weekend since everyone is getting ready for the big game. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves all night and all day tomorrow.” She paused, licked her bottom lip. “By then, I’ll have him, if not completely ready and willing, at least mulling over the possibilities. Then, when you show up at the house…”
“Game on,” Tatum rasped, lust turning his throat to sandpaper.
She nodded. “The biggest game of our lives. Most important we’ve ever played. He really is the one, Tatum. I know it. I feel it. So will you when you finally see him in the flesh.”
He could only nod, just as certain as she was. With an inward groan, he tucked his throbbing cock back inside his khakis and zipped up. “Sunday can’t get here fast enough. Go get our man, Sid. And call me tonight. Tell me everything.”
She winked, giving him a little wave before shutting down the connection. Tatum sat back, giving his erection a few minutes to go down. God, he hoped she was right. Allen just had to be the one. He and Sid were both so completely gone over the man, it might literally kill him if Allen decided he couldn’t make it as part of a triad. His heart skipped a beat at the very thought.
Tatum was a firm believer in the concept “Labels need not apply.” Meaning anything goes, so long as your own body and mind both find it pleasurable. It staggered him how people were so willing to deny themselves, simply from fear of what some anonymous “they” might think about them. Why cut yourself off from what feels good just because “someone” might disapprove of your choices? But he knew most people weren’t as liberated as he and Sidri were. Knew that, for most people, the very concept of defying social norms sent them into hysterics.
What if Allen was one of those? Or what if he really and truly was not turned on by being with men? Just because someone was willing to try things outside their comfort zone didn’t automatically mean they would find them sexually gratifying. What if Allen was willing to try, but found he simply wasn’t able to see another man as a sexual object? What if the thought of touching Tatum turned him off completely? Not because “someone” might disapprove, but because his own body rejected the idea? What would Tatum do then?
Tatum shoved that thought away even as he shoved away from the table in the small London conference room. He would not allow himself to think that way. Allen was theirs, plain and simple. They would find a way to convince him of the truth of that, one way or another.
Guys weren’t much for introspection, Tatum thought ruefully as he made his way back to his office. But while he’d never questioned his and Sidri’s need to experiment sexually, he had done a little soul-searching to try and figure out why they couldn’t simply satisfy one another, why they wanted—needed—another man to share.
The answer? They were both Dominant. In bed, outside of it, didn’t matter. They were both purely, totally, one hundred percent Alpha. Oh, they could pretend for a while, passing the reins back and forth in order to be what their partner needed, but the truth was that it simply wasn’t natural—or sexually gratifying—for either one of them to play the submissive. And while they could pretend for a little while in order to please each other, it never felt right.
The simple truth was they both needed someone they could dominate. Not with mind games or pain, restraints or punishment. They needed a man who welcomed being taken over during sex. That type of submissive personality desperately required their partner to take the reins, because they simply couldn’t enjoy themselves if they were unsure what their partner wanted from them. It wasn’t about power or controlling their actions. It was about needing to know, on an atomic level, that your partner would bring you pleasure as long as you let them lead the way.
That kind of submission couldn’t be faked. Couldn’t be pretended. It was either there or it wasn’t, plain and simple. And neither he nor Sidri had it in them to pretend for long.
Of the two of them, Sidri was actually the more Dominant, a fact he only admitted in th
e quiet of his own mind. Hers was wired so deep, so much a part of her DNA, that it exuded into everything she did no matter how trivial the action. She could no more play the shrinking violet than Tatum could pretend he liked opera. It was who she was, and while she could accommodate Tatum’s needs simply because they were extensions of the same soul, the basic fact was she couldn’t find personal satisfaction unless she was directing the action, in all ways and at all times.
He wanted to give her what she needed. Wanted her to be happy, in bed and out. Which was why, if it turned out Allen couldn’t be with both of them, Tatum was prepared to walk away.
Even if it killed him.
He loved Sidri. But he couldn’t be everything she needed. And while it would feel like tearing his own heart out with his bare hands, he would walk away before jeopardizing her chances of being with the one man who could satisfy her every desire.
Sitting behind his desk, Tatum scrubbed both hands over his face and looked around. His assistant had been busy—all his stuff was already neatly packed into several small boxes, each with prominent shipping labels already attached. All that was left was for him to pack up his apartment, head for the airport, and get on the plane that would take him home.
Two more days. Two more days until he learned, once and for all, if his future would include the two people he loved more than life itself—or if he’d spend the rest of his life alone.
Chapter 6
Allen sat at his desk, entranced by the tiny clock in front of him. A gift from Sidri, it was his most prized possession. The face was made from an old-fashioned Coca-Cola bottle cap no bigger than a modern nickel. The iconic script logo blazed across the stark white background in bold strokes of bright red. The only time markers were tiny ticks of color at the cardinal points, and the tiny hands were precise and delicate, unprotected by any sort of glass or cover. The tiny clock had been fastened to a miniature watchband, which was made from leather and featured elaborate stitching and a shiny gold buckle just like a full-sized version. It was just large enough to fit around Allen’s ring finger. It was precious, priceless, and not just because it was a fully functioning marvel of modern clockwork technology.
Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 5
