by C. M. Albert
She screamed out, bucking against him.
“Is that okay? Did that hurt?” he asked, uncertain. The look she gave him over her shoulder was one that was wild, uninhibited.
“God, no, Gael. I want more,” she panted. “Use the harness to push me and pull me, like a swing.”
He nodded, grabbing the harness at her waist and pushing her forward as he pulled his cock back. He soon created a gentle rhythm, helping her bounce easily along the length of him. She was so wet it became apparent she could bounce right off him, then glide right back on. He found himself increasing the distance and letting her truly swing forward, then come back and slide back down his cock. The sight was heady to have her so open to him, so pliable as he slid in and out.
The last time she came back to him, he steadied her, then smacked her ass again, enjoying the skin pink up as it smarted from his hand. Her cheeks jiggled in response and she tightened around him.
“Are you ready?” he asked. When Wendy nodded, he grabbed the strings of her waist harness and held on, using the tension to keep her still while burying himself as far as he could go.
He pounded into her, over and over, her back arching as she bucked against him with every thrust. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so deep inside someone before. He let go and reached around, cupping her tiny breasts and pinching her nipples, his back covering hers as he set a frantic pace to the end. Their bodies were slick with sweat by the time they were ready to climax. He stood up, grabbing her long red hair in his hand and pulling her head back. He loved the waist harness that kept her in place, secured her, let him focus on their orgasm and not supporting their weight.
He pumped hard several more times until he felt her tighten around him, her insides growing wetter as her entire body trembled from her orgasm. He wasn’t far behind. A few more deep and rapid strokes had him pulling out, releasing himself onto her back. He reached out, rubbing the warm liquid over her soft skin.
After Baron helped her down from the harness, he pulled her to him, their bodies mingling as closely as their breaths. He kissed along her neck, to her ear, across her cheek, until he found her mouth. “God, Wendy . . .” He couldn’t find the words. She had made him feel safe, and he felt freer than he ever had.
“I know,” she breathed. “That was unbelievable.”
“Is it always like that with the swing?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “That was my first time, too.” Her cheeks flushed prettily.
The chime rang out, signaling their time was over. Two hours hadn’t been enough time. He closed his eyes, suddenly sad to say goodbye to this beautiful woman.
“Wendy,” he said, “that was something more for me. I . . . I felt things today with you that I haven’t in a long time.”
His eyes met hers, looking for something he wasn’t sure he was searching for. Until he found it.
“I know,” she whispered. “It was more than just sex, today, wasn’t it? You felt it too?” she asked, sounding almost shy.
He nodded. “I wish there were more time.” He’d never really wanted that before, or another go with the same woman. He loved the once-and-done approach to the White Room. But suddenly, he wanted more. “Shit!” he said, heading out to grab his jeans. He slid them up his trim waist, fastening them.
He turned to look at Wendy, in all her trim sexiness, wearing nothing but heels. She’d followed him into the living room and was standing jauntily against the stately white doors to the bedroom. “Rules are made to be broken, Gael,” she said.
His heart was torn between desire and safety. Between his past and something so completely wild, fresh, and vulnerable.
“Actually, I was told by the owner that we can request past lovers now,” he said hoarsely. He was both looking for her reaction and hedging himself, unsure if he could take this big of a leap with his heart.
“So I’ve heard,” she said, the corner of her mouth curling into a smile. She strolled over to him, completely confident in her own skin. Her long red curls soft against her beautiful, naked skin.
He wanted more time with her. He did. So why was opening his heart so damn hard?
She placed her hands on his sculpted chest, trailing them down his stomach to the waist of his jeans. She gave a gentle tug, pulling him closer. She leaned in, brushing his ear with her lips.
“I will wait for you, Gael. I see the war in your eyes. I can tell you’ve been hurt. When you are ready, you let the White Room know. I will wait only for you before coming back.”
Baron’s heart flooded with emotions. He searched Wendy’s eyes, connecting far deeper than their bodies just had. “It’s Baron,” he said. “Baron Gael James.”
She nodded, smiling. “Vironica,” she whispered.
Baron grinned, his dimples flashing. He realized he was truly happy for the first time in a long while.
“I’ll be back for you, Vironica. Give me a little time to get used to the idea. My heart’s been broken before, and I never knew it could open again—not like this.” He ran a hand along her cheek, cradling the side of her face as he kissed her slowly, deeply.
“You stirred something that I thought was dead inside of me, Vironica. Let me battle my demons. Heal. Then I’ll be back for you. I promise. And I don’t make promises lightly,” he said, lifting his finger to the sky.
Vironica didn’t know just how deep his promise ran, but she couldn’t wait to see him again. She returned his kiss one last time and walked away, leaving the White Room.
Baron had come in one man, and was leaving with the hope of something completely new. It terrified him to his bones. But nothing scared him more at that moment than never seeing those green eyes again.
He would be back. Come hell or high water, he would possess Vironica again. This time winning her heart as well as her body.
12
Raine
ADELAIDE WENT BY Raine in the White Room. She could’ve gone by Addie—the nickname most people called her. But Adelaide Eckleberry was such a distinct name, and the one thing she prized the most about the White Room was the anonymity it provided. It wouldn’t do to have WLNC’s morning anchor caught up in a scandal of her own. Though many of the city’s top one percent knew about the White Room, it was very much on a hush-hush basis. It only survived because it was kept that way. With strict rules. Rules Adelaide needed if she wanted to keep her job. And her trust fund.
But thanks to her very connected friend Arianna from Wells Media, she had a lifetime key to the White Room. She didn’t know how Arianna got her in, but she was grateful for it; and she knew Arianna had a lifetime pass, as well. They would often swap stories over after-work drinks about their more memorable sexcapades—some were too good not to giggle over. But sometimes a girl had to keep certain dark proclivities even to herself.
Today was one of them.
Adelaide was dressed in a pair of black miniscule booty shorts made for exercising. A small white sports bra loosely covered by a gray open-sided, sleeveless hoodie completed the look. The vibe said sexy-sporty—not complete tramp. She’d pulled her long blond and brown balayaged hair into a high ponytail, and her nude makeup and long lashes left her looking like the fresh-faced girl next door that she was.
Just a girl next door with a crazy hot fantasy she never dreamed she’d have the balls to live out. Until the White Room. Until now.
She was finally ready.
She thought.
I am ready, aren’t I?
Adelaide did a few hops on the balls of her toes, stretching her calves and trying to shake the jitters. It was too late. The large double doors to the White Room opened, and in walked two of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Adelaide was suddenly very unsure if she could go through with this.
The man on the left was muscular, but leaner than the one on the right—though in a sexy, American Ninja Warrior kind of way. Mixed with a little Abercrombie & Fitch, all spiky beach-blond hair and ice blue eyes. Holy hell. The scruff along his
angular jaw left Adelaide panting for how that would feel scraping along her thighs.
Okay . . . so maybe this was a good idea, afterall. Adelaide grinned, suddenly eager to start the “workout session” she had booked with her two “fitness trainers.”
The man on the right looked like he could be brothers with the other guy. But he was a lot more muscular in an I-pump-weights-at-the-gym-every-day kind of way. And his brown hair and tattoos set him apart. A large Celtic-inspired cross flanked his huge bicep on his right arm, while a large Chinese symbol for strength was etched on his other bicep. Adelaide knew because she had the same tattoo on her rib cage, close to her left breast—though for very different reasons, she suspected. He, too, had a face full of scruff, and Adelaide’s panties grew damp just imagining all the ways these guys might want to work her out today.
“Hey,” said blondie, reaching out his hand to Adelaide. “I’m Anders, and this toad is my brother, Ari. We were told you needed some personal trainers. . . to work some really hard-to-reach spots?” he said with a wink.
Adelaide tried really hard not to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t help it. She muffled her laugh, though, so it ended up sounding like a stifled cough. She wasn’t sure how she would ever get through this with a straight face.
“Hi, Anders. Ari,” she said, reaching her hand out to accept Anders’s firm grasp. He was confident, the cocky one. She could tell straight away by his sun-kissed, frosted hair to his blue lagoon eyes, which were pinning her now, raking up and down her legs, her booty shorts hiding absolutely nothing. She tugged at one of the hems absently, not sure what to do with her hands now. She waved to Ari, who stood in the background, a dark, brooding look in his eyes. While Anders kicked her libido right in the gut and made her sit up and take notice, Ari’s simmering sexiness was like a slow boil.
“Uh, so you guys are really brothers? Or . . . you know. Just for today?” Stupid, stupid, stupid! Adelaide thought. But they did look an awful lot alike; it made her curious.
“We’re actually brothers,” Anders said, surprising her. “I got all the looks in the family. I’m one of five boys. Ari has a few years on me. But he’s a still a good trainer,” he added.
Adelaide let her gaze cascade appreciatively over Ari’s body. He was much bigger than Anders, but not in a meathead kind of way. More in an I-can-bench-press-your-entire-body-which-is-sexy-as-fuck kind of way. Adelaide didn’t know where or whom to start with. She wanted them both.
“So . . . this is a little awkward,” she started. “I’ve—eh-hem—never been trained by two men before, if you know what I mean,” she said, blushing.
Ari finally spoke, his eyes gentle. “It’s okay. We’ve never trained the same woman together before, so we’re all new to this. And, before you ask . . . no. We are not going anywhere near each other. Our focus is on you. You’re the client. You get all the attention.”
Oh. Gulp.
Adelaide peered through her lashes at Ari. Though he seemed to be the quieter one, he was doing all the right things to her tummy. “Huh,” she said. “That actually hadn’t even crossed my mind.” And, yay! The attention would be all on her.
“So, where do we start?” she asked.
“How about some jumping jacks to get our heart rates up?” Anders suggested.
Oh. He’s really going to make me work out?
“My heart rate’s beating plenty fast,” Adelaide admitted, a sexy, practiced grin lifting her full lips. “But you’re the expert here.” Adelaide started jumping, noticing that both brothers’ eyes were fixated on her. This wasn’t awkward at all. Her breasts bounced freely, the sports bra more for looks than support. They didn’t seem to mind.
“If I have to get sweaty, so do you, right?” she asked, hands on hips, when she was done.
“What would you have us do?” Anders asked. “We’re at your disposal.”
“Drop and give me twenty,” she said. Adelaide was a sucker for arms and abs.
“Knuckles or one handed?” Anders asked.
Adelaide swallowed. “One handed sounds kind of hot,” she admitted.
Anders dropped and started pumping out one-handed push-ups, his lean arms flexing with each rep.
Holy mother of God! Adelaide loved the long, lean lines of Anders’s body. He looked like a runner, or a baseball player, with that tight, round ass.
Anders popped up, a cocky grin spreading across his face. It didn’t last long, though, when Ari quietly crossed the room and reached his hand out for Adelaide. “You never did tell us your name,” he said.
She accepted his hand, sparks of something shot through her entire body, like a current. It simmered and settled in her nether region, making her grow hot all over. It was an entirely pleasant feeling she wanted to explore more of. “You can call me Raine,” she said, her throat suddenly parched.
“Raine,” Ari repeated. “To quench my thirst . . .” he said with a quiet knowing, as if he recognized her.
Uh-oh. If he did, he didn’t give her away.
“Take a seat,” Ari said as he dropped down into push-up position on his knuckles.
“Where?” Adelaide asked, confused.
“On my back,” he answered, grinning up at her with heated hazel eyes.
She looked at his broad back, muscles forming all kinds of ridges and planes. She suddenly wished she could lie down on his back and lick every square inch of muscled flesh. Instead, she sat, worried she would break his back. She wasn’t a big girl, but she’d been a gymnast and cheerleader, and had nice strong legs and a little round booty to show for it. She quite enjoyed the feeling of his back beneath her warm center as she straddled him, holding on for dear life. Sure enough, he gave her twenty. Then he gave her twenty more, never breaking pace. She was sure he could feel her flood of excitement all over his back.
“Show off,” Anders said, grinning.
“You’re just jealous,” Ari retorted, good naturedly.
“Not yet,” Anders said, not so amused this time. “But I’m not so sure how I’ll feel in two hours.”
“Get over it,” Ari said.
Anders lifted Adelaide off Ari’s back and she suddenly missed the girth of his muscled back beneath her legs. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to have him turn over so she could ride him another way.
Anders took Adelaide’s hand and spun her into an embrace, so they were almost nose to nose. She was pressed up against his bare chest, void of any hair. He was so damn hot. Almost too perfect. “Ever work out on exercise balls before?” he asked, a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Sure,” she said, looking around. “I don’t see any though.”
Ari started walking toward the bedroom. “Follow me,” he instructed.
Adelaide watched as he entered the bedroom, his gorgeous backside disappearing behind the tall white doors. Her heart hammered when Anders leaned in closer, breathing gently on her ear with parted lips. “This is going to be the best workout of your life,” he said, gently suckling her lobe. She melted against him, her hands holding onto his chest for support.
Anders ran his hand over her back, grabbing her ass as he bent down and brought his mouth to hers. His lips were warm, far softer than she would’ve imagined them to be. He looked all Scandinavian hot with a hard jawline and precise nose. But his lips . . . they were soft. His tongue, however . . .
He was definitely the alpha in this kiss. He took charge like he meant it, taking Adelaide’s breathe away. “We may be sharing you, but you’re mine in this room. We agreed to be respectful of each other and of you. But I’m staking my claim. You can explore one another, but only I’m going to bury myself deep inside you,” he growled.
Adelaide’s heat went into overdrive, a confused swirl of hell no! and yes, sir!
But, she had to admit, it was hot the way he took command. She reached down, cupping him over the workout pants he was wearing. He was rock hard already. Adelaide gently ran her hand up and down the length of him, her center aching.
“And
what if I choose Ari instead,” she taunted. She had no real objection to being fucked by Anders, as long as she had Ari in other ways. But she wasn’t too keen on being told what to do.
A storm clouded Anders’s blue eyes. He reached down and cupped her hot center, pressing his fingers up while rubbing back and forth. Though her booty shorts blocked him, the effect was the same. Adelaide’s legs turned to Jell-O, and she instinctively leaned in toward his mouth. “Trust me,” he whispered. “When I’m through with you, you will beg to have me be the one between your legs.”
Christ!
His mouth took hers again, this time more demanding as he tugged at her ponytail with one hand and held her chin in the other. He’d moved her face perfectly for total domination. And she found it hot as hell.
When he was done, he stood back and their eyes locked. An understanding passed between them. Taking her hand in his, they walked to the bedroom. Inside there were three large white and silver exercise balls of various sizes. She had no idea what they were going to do with those, but she was intrigued.
The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was Ari, who stood before her completely naked, holding one of the exercise balls in his hands, strategically placed. Dear God! That V though.
If his arms had been impressive, his eight pack was even more so. Leading down to a delightful V pointing right to the goods. She couldn’t wait to have him move the exercise ball so she could get the full picture. His hips were strong, and she suddenly felt an absence of him between her legs. Those hips were made for pumping. Whose idea had that been anyway? Who needed honor? huffed Adelaide to herself. The White Room was for abandoning inhibitions and taking risks. If she wanted them both, she would have them.
Satisfied, she walked toward Ari, lifting the gray hoodie over her head and tossing it to the floor. She knew he would be able to see right through the white bra top. It was tight and practically see through. Her nipples were high and perky, thanks to the reconstructive surgery she’d had after her preventative double mastectomy. She had scars, for sure. But her tits were beautiful and she was proud of them. Proud to be alive.
