Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Rhiannon Ayers

  “There’s a difference between sharing yourself with two other partners and discovering your partner has been sharing herself with someone else without your knowledge. Exclusivity doesn’t have to preclude experimentation. The only true barriers are the ones you build between yourselves, mutual points where you both say, ‘This is it, no more.’ Cheating means one partner is expanding those boundaries without permission, without sanction.”

  She pinned him to his chair with her hot green stare. “Though Tatum and I have always had a close relationship, that relationship has not always included sex. I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life, Allen. Neither has he. Consider that before you condemn our being ‘friends with benefits.’ Trust, like love, can have many forms. And if you truly trust your partner, then the only boundaries between you are the ones you choose to leave in place.”

  She gifted him with a sweet smile, squeezed his fingers one last time, and suddenly stood. Pushing her chair back, she threw a few bills on the table, turned around, and walked away. She was almost to the door, almost gone from the restaurant, before Allen managed to pick his jaw up off the floor and scramble after her. He found her standing next to his car, waiting patiently. Not knowing what to say, he quietly opened her door, handed her inside, and drove them back to the office. Silence reigned as he pulled back into the parking garage and chose a spot near the elevators.

  Finally, Sidri spoke. “Let’s head back inside, Allen. I want to show you something.” Her voice was thick, husky. He studied her, noting the elevated breathing, the tense way her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater. She met his eyes and said quietly, “Please.”

  Allen agreed, opening her door and handing her out before following her toward the elevator. His mind was a hurricane, reliving and re-examining every memory he had about that pivotal night. He’d been so certain, so adamant that the fault lay with him, that he’d gone off the deep end in an overly possessive rage. Sidri’s quiet assertion that he’d done nothing wrong, had indeed not overreacted, tilted his world a hundred and eighty degrees.

  And yet, he believed her. Knew she was one hundred percent accurate in her assessment of what had happened that night. That he’d never seen it before, never even considered the possibility he might have had every right to lose his shit, made him wonder what other festering memories were completely wrong.

  Sidri had done that to him. For him. Healed a wound he hadn’t even been aware existed just with the logic of her words. And with every passing moment, he was falling more and more in love with her.

  Somewhere between the car and the elevator, the tension ratcheted up exponentially. By the time they reached the eighteenth floor, Allen’s dick was waging all-out war on his zipper, the painful bite of those metal teeth doing exactly nothing to deflate his unwanted desire. It felt as if someone had slipped live wires under his skin, little zings of lust skittering through his body and making his muscles jump. His breathing erratic, he stepped off the elevator, hoping to escape Sidri’s intoxicating presence before he made a fool of himself and jumped her.

  He didn’t move fast enough. Sidri reached out slender, graceful fingers and slipped her hand in his before he had a chance to react. Stunned to find himself holding hands with her, Allen followed docilely as she led him up hallways and down corridors, finally leading them to her office. She ushered him inside, closed the door, and stood with her back to it, facing him with the strangest expression on her face. Allen just stood there, the butterflies in his stomach doing a rather impressive conga line.

  “Tatum and I are not a couple,” she said in a low, sultry voice.

  Allen nodded, desperately fighting the urge to close the distance between them, drag her to the desk, and rip her clothes off. If she came any closer…

  “We’re not a couple,” she repeated, gaze steady on his. He nodded again, unsure what response she expected from him.

  “We’re not a couple, Allen,” she whispered breathily, “because there’s someone else I want.”

  There wasn’t enough air in the room. Allen gulped, lightheaded from the rush of blood from his head to his cock. If he’d been hard before, he was ten times so now that her scent invaded his nostrils, her heat washing over him, through him, drowning him. Desperately, he fought to remember how to make sound come out of his mouth.

  “Wh–who?” he finally gasped.

  Sidri took one step forward, her green eyes holding him frozen in place—and pulled her sweater over her head, revealing a lacy black demi-bra and miles of sexy, smooth, mouthwatering tanned skin.

  “You,” she whispered. Then she waited.

  Allen’s shoes were bolted to the floor, his muscles rigid with shock. She wanted him. Sidri, the woman of his dreams, was standing there, shirtless, saying she wanted him. It was surreal. Couldn’t be real. He blinked, several times, but the apparition didn’t disappear. For a long, tense moment, he could only stare at her, elation and utter terror warring in his gut.

  Terror won. Allen bolted.

  * * * *

  The crushing weight of rejection nearly brought Sidri to her knees. She stood in her office, staring at the place Allen had been just moments before, shocked into utter paralysis. God, the look on his face just before he took off like he had a rocket shoved up his ass. Like someone had just stabbed him, just ripped his heart out with bare hands. He’d thrown the door open so hard in his haste to run away, there had to be a huge dent in the drywall. She could hear his footsteps pounding down the hall as he raced for the elevator, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  He didn’t want her. All this time, she’d thought he was interested. The little longing glances, the hastily adjusted slacks when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way he jumped at the chance to spend time with her, and the way he always gasped, just a little, whenever she happened to brush against him. She’d thought all those tells meant he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

  Apparently not. Sidri closed her eyes, wondering if this feeling of being shattered and broken would ever go away. She stood there, frozen, for all of a minute.

  Then her true nature reasserted itself. Her eyes popped open, a scowl darkening her brow. Fuck this shit. He didn’t want her? Fine. But he was damn well going to give her a reason. No way was she giving up this fast. Not when it had taken two fucking years to get to this moment.

  With a growl of annoyance, she took off after Allen like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.

  She caught up with him the lobby. He stood at the express elevator, staring up at the floor display above the doors as he pressed the ‘down’ button repeatedly. His broad shoulders were knotted with distress, his shoes squeaking on the parquet as he shuffled his feet in agitation. Slowing her step, Sidri couldn’t help but admire the way his gray slacks hugged that marvelous ass, the hard muscles in those long thighs. She could imagine walking up to him, sliding her hands under the hem of his jacket, running her fingers along his black leather belt…

  Whoa. Down, girl. One step at a time.

  Sidri stopped ten feet away, aching for the tension she could feel rolling off him in thick waves. Apparently he’d forgotten the express elevators were shut off after 8:00 p.m.—she’d had to use her key to get them back upstairs when they returned. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have made for the bank of elevators on the opposite side of the hall and she never would have caught up with him.

  Thank God for small favors.

  “Allen. Stop.”

  Her command froze him instantly. He groaned quietly, leaning his forehead against the closed metal doors even as he braced his hands on either side of the frame. He wouldn’t turn and look at her, didn’t respond with words. But the fact that he’d obeyed gave her hope.

  Slowly, carefully, Sidri walked forward. “Tell me why you’re running from me.”

  A hard shudder rippled across those achingly wide shoulders, but he remained silent. Sidri took another step.

  “If this is truly what you wa
nt, I will let you go,” she said, keeping her voice calm even as the words tore something inside her. “But you will give me a reason first.”

  Another step. Allen still didn’t move, but his grip on the metal went white. She was close enough to smell his cologne now, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

  “Tell me why.”

  She waited, everything in her screaming at her to take that last step, run her hands across that strong back and soothe away the anxiety there. But she needed to hear him speak, needed to hear the words that formed the mortar in the wall he’d just put up between them.

  A long, long silence.

  And then: “I can’t risk it.”

  The whisper was so small, so breathless, she might not have heard had she not been listening for it. Sidri took another step. Now she was so close the hem of his jacket brushed the tops of her thighs.

  “Risk what?” Her own voice was just as quiet, just as breathless. He heard her anyway.

  “Everything.” That tiny, shattered whisper sounded like it was laced with broken shards of glass.

  Amazing how so much meaning could be packed into four little syllables. She wondered if Allen knew just how much he revealed with that one word. There was fear in his voice, a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing fear that went far beyond petty concerns like losing a job or ruining a friendship. Whatever he was running from, it wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment worry.

  He was terrified. But not of her. Of himself.

  Sidri stared at the trembling man in front of her, cursing herself for a fool. She’d gone about this all wrong. Fuck, she knew what kind of person he was, what he craved in a partner. But instead of following her instincts, she’d allowed her own nervousness to cloud the situation, had tried to suppress her own nature and over-thought everything to the point where she’d allowed…this.

  This was all her fault.

  Allen was a sexual submissive. Whether he knew it or not—and most men were too afraid or too shallow to admit it—Allen was the type of lover who could only function when his partner determined the course of action. She knew it, Tatum knew it—it was what drew them to him in the first place. But instead of acting on that knowledge, instead of taking the reins and guiding their encounter from the very first moment, she’d given him the choice.

  And his choice had been to run. Not because he didn’t want her. Even from behind him, Sidri could see the way his slacks tightened around the crotch, hiding the evidence of his arousal. No, he’d run because in that split second when she’d stood silently, waiting for him to act on her invitation, he’d panicked.

  Well, she was done fighting her instincts. Time to do what she should have done in the first place.

  “Keep your hands where they are,” Sidri said quietly. “Keep your feet still and your forehead pressed against the doors.”

  She watched the shiver that rolled down his spine, noted the way his fingers tightened on the elevator’s frame even as the rest of his body went perfectly still. Nodding inwardly, Sidri took the half step forward and closed the distance between them. Ignoring Allen’s gasp of shock, she slipped her hands beneath his jacket, teasing the waistline of his slacks before running both palms up the center of his chest. Leaning into him, she rested her chin on his shoulder, her lips inches away from his ear. The goose bumps rising on his exposed forearms and the blush staining his already-dark skin told her that her instincts were correct. She let him feel her smile against the side of his neck as she pressed her chest more firmly against his back.

  A breath away from his ear, Sidri whispered, “‘Everything’ is quite a topic for discussion. Let’s start at the beginning. What’s the first thing you’re risking?”

  His gloriously hard ass muscles clenched against her lower belly, and Sidri let him feel the little shudder of delight that shivered through her body. He noticed it, because he froze once more. Sidri cupped his pecs, loving the way his nipples hardened in her palms. Christ, he was so responsive. She needed to keep her head in the game.

  “Tell me, Allen. Just start with the first.” Her voice remained low, soothing, even as desire began a slow spiral through her lower belly.

  She heard him swallow once. Twice. Then he whispered, “The company.”

  “Hmmm,” she murmured, loving the way the sound vibrated through her chest and into his body. His nipples tightened further. “Well, since I own the company, I don’t think losing your job is a problem. And since we have no policy against inter-office dating, there’s no reason for you to fear repercussions. Not that we would let you go under any circumstances, but especially not because you started seeing me.”

  Another of those hard shudders. Just as she’d suspected, the first reason was bullshit. Sidri ran both hands down his chest, pausing on the mouth-watering hills of his six-pack. Fuck, she wanted to see him with his shirt off. One thing at a time.

  “Second risk,” she purred, blowing on his earlobe. Another one of those delicious shivers tightened all the muscles she was pressed against nicely.

  Another long pause, followed by another barely there whisper. “Tatum.”

  Sidri pressed her cheek to the side of his neck, letting her hands drift a little lower, stopping just above his belt buckle. His gasp shot lightning straight to her clit. She had to clear her throat before answering.

  “Since we just went over that, we both know that’s just an excuse. Tatum has no business being a part of this particular conversation.” Though, if they had their way, he would definitely be a major part of future ones. “Third risk.”

  She’d already been able to feel his heart beating through her palms. Now the pace ratcheted up exponentially. Good, they were getting somewhere. Closer, at least, to the real reason he took off like a bat out of hell. This answer was a long, long time coming, but finally, he strangled out, “Me.”

  For a moment Sidri froze, completely thunderstruck. Then her fingers tightened against his stomach, gathering little creases in his tight black undershirt. “Are you telling me you don’t think you’re worthy?” she whispered dangerously. With slow, steady pressure, she started pulling his shirt untucked. “Are you trying to tell me you aren’t worth being wanted? That I’m too good for you, or you’re not good enough for me? Is that what you’re implying right here, right now?” His shirt pulled free on the last word, but Sidri held still, the fabric bunched between her fingers as she let the cool office air wash over his heated skin. Another of those hard shudders wracked his frame. She tightened her arms, pressed her chin more firmly into his shoulder.

  “You are perfect, Allen,” she whispered hoarsely. As he started to shake his head, she nipped his earlobe. Allen groaned as the muscles all up and down his back vibrated against her chest.

  “I never want to hear you belittle yourself again in my presence. Do you understand me? Not even in your own mind. You are perfect. Precious. The most stunning example of male perfection I have ever had the honor to know. Body, mind, and soul, there is no one more perfect than you.”

  A gurgle of protest ripped from his throat. Sidri nipped the skin behind his ear ruthlessly. “You will not contradict me. This is my decision to make, not yours. My opinion is the only one that matters here. And I say you are perfect.”

  Before he had a chance to respond, Sidri released his shirt and slid both hands beneath, finally getting her hands on those rock-hard muscles. It was like holding onto a furnace, the way his body radiated so much heat. The skin beneath her palms was achingly soft and smooth, the muscles beneath heavy and strong. She wanted to yank him around, shove his shirt the rest of the way up his chest, and take a bite of that silky, hot flesh.

  Soon, she consoled herself. Very, very soon. For now, she simply enjoyed the little shivers her touch caused, the little hitch in his breathing. Humming her pleasure, Sidri let her hands roam where they would, across his hard stomach, his pecs, marveling at the complete lack of body hair. Did he shave? Or wax? Holy hell, she wanted to find out.

  Schooling hersel
f to patience, she turned her attention back to his ear, pressing a kiss just behind it before settling her chin on his shoulder once more. “So that’s three risks dealt with. Are there more?”

  Allen nodded but didn’t speak. He gasped as one of her nails caught his left nipple. She grinned against his neck, but didn’t let him off the hook. “Tell me.”

  For a moment, she feared her touch was too distracting, that she’d have to lay off exploring his gorgeous body before he could remember how to form words. But a few seconds later, he gasped out, “Threesomes.”

  That, quite simply, floored her. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that one word didn’t factor anywhere into it. Frowning, she mashed her breasts against his back, bringing her hands down to rest above his hips, still under the shirt but not yet touching his belt. “What about them?” she asked in a silky whisper.

  He shuddered, shook his head. Remained silent.

  Sidri pressed her lips against his ear. “Why threesomes, Allen? Are you afraid I’ll ask you for one?” That was her biggest fear, actually, that Allen wouldn’t even consider the possibility. She waited, holding her breath.

  Finally, he shook his head.

  Sliding her hands downward an inch, she trailed her pinky fingers inside the waistband of his slacks. Allen gasped, cursed, but stayed where she’d commanded him to. God in Heaven, did he not see what a treasure he was? So achingly perfect in every way. Stifling a groan of pure lust, Sidri tried again.

  “Then what? Tell me, Allen. Please.”

  Another of those interminable pauses. This time, she indulged herself while giving him time to answer. Hands still beneath his shirt, she slid her palms around his sides, moving back enough to give herself room to run them over the sharp lines of his shoulder blades. Her fingers detected slight variations in texture under the skin. Did he have tattoos? Fuck, she wanted to see them. Kiss them. Lick them. Bite them. Cursing her own libido, Sidri forced herself to focus.

  “Tell me,” she whispered one last time. As she did, she slowly, slowly slid her hands down his back, around his sides, and finally let them rest on either side of his belt buckle. She could feel the way the fabric of his slacks strained, holding back that glorious erection. So tempting to feel for herself, take that steel bar in hand and squeeze for her own pleasure. But she refrained—barely.