by Roz Lee
“Let’s give it some time, okay?” she said.
“We’ll find a way,” Bent said. We have to.
“Then let Sean go get his things. The only way we’re going to figure out if we can make this work is for us all to be together—for as long as it takes.”
Chapter Thirteen
“So. What does this mean?” Sean dropped a stack of folded T-shirts into a drawer in the bedroom of Bentley’s pool house. He closed the drawer, leaned his hips against the dresser then crossed his arms over his chest. It was taking a Herculean effort to keep his hands off the man. It was a toss-up whether he would strangle him or kiss him when he lost the battle. “I understand why I’m here, but what, are we doing?”
“Fuck if I know,” His lover said from his perch on the end of the king-sized bed. “Ashley wants to get to know you. That’s all I know.”
“Smooth move, asshole, inviting her for a threesome without any warning you were thinking along those lines.”
“Not one of my finer moments, but it would have solved a lot of problems if she had agreed. I know her. After a she got over the shock, she would have loved it.”
“Love it or not, showing her what the rest of her life would be like might have scared her off for good.”
The other man nodded. “Yeah. It could have gone that way, too.”
“Which brings me back to my original question. What are we doing? Are you a fucking ping-pong ball, bouncing from one bed to the other?”
“My answer is the same. Fuck if I know.”
“Then you better go talk to her, find out what the ground rules are before we start playing the game for real.”
“I’m going. Promise me you won’t change your mind. Right now, convincing Ashley to stick it out is my priority. I don’t need to be worrying about you, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I like her, man. She’s everything you said she was. Her actions today proved she has more going for her than just good looks and brains. She has guts. She might be a little kinky, too.” He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.
Laughter eased the worry lines on his friend’s face, making Sean’s heart lighter. The drama was taking its toll on all of them. But he’d survive. He had to.
Bent slid into the bed beside Ashley. He had no idea what to expect. The three of them had ordered pizza then sat around the table in the kitchen, trying to act as if they were normal. There was nothing normal about his fiancée and his male lover sitting at the same table. At least when Sean had been across town, the issue of whom he would sleep with had been clear. With him ensconced in the pool house, the lines were blurred.
The most awkward moment came when they were through eating and the conversation had dwindled out. Sean stood first, making his polite excuses. Following him to the back door, he asked, “You got everything you need?”
Sean smirked, casting a glance back at the table where Ashley sat watching them. “Everything, except you.”
Before he knew what was happening, Sean cupped his face between his big palms and covered his mouth with his. Startled, he tried to protest, but only managed to provide opportunity. Sean’s tongue swept inside. Bent melted against him. It had been so long since they’d had any real physical contact, he lost himself in the kiss. Sean’s lips were hungry, devouring, and demanding. It felt so fucking good to touch him again. He kissed him back, pressing his body close so the hard ridges of their arousal brushed. His lover groaned, moving his hips to let him know how much he wanted him, too. He forgot they had an audience, forgot why kissing Sean was a bad idea all around and just went with it.
When Sean broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily. He held Bent’s face in the cradle of his roughened hands a moment longer. His eyes were dark with meaning and unfulfilled lust. He took a step back, nodded to Ashley then he left. Dazed, he stared at the man’s retreating back, desperate to go after him so they could finish what they’d started. He wasn’t through tasting him, loving him. Another minute and he would have had a cock in his mouth.
A movement in his peripheral drew his attention to the table. The expression on his fiancée’s face snapped him back to reality.
He couldn’t abandon her tonight. Not after everything he’d put her through the last few days. The Mustangs would be on the road again at the end of the week. He’d have time with Sean then. He could wait.
She appeared shell-shocked. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in mute disbelief.
Fuck. Sean had kissed him on purpose—to see her reaction. Look what you did, asshole.
“Babe….”
“That was….” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“He shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have….”
“No.” Her voice was brittle. “He has every right. You have every right…I guess. I don’t know…I hadn’t expected the two of you to…while he’s…I mean, in front of me. But of course you will. It’s only natural.”
“I didn’t know he was going to kiss me,” he said. “If it bothers you so much, I’ll tell him not to…we won’t…. Ah, hell. I’m sorry.” Goddamn, Sean! But he was as much to blame—he’d returned the kiss, turned it into a make-out session by grinding against him. You’re a class A ass, Bentley Randolph. A real fuck-up.
She looked down at her lap where her fingers were busy shredding a paper napkin. “No. Don’t do…not on my account. It just took me by surprise. It won’t be as much of a shock next time.”
He approached the table—she stood, gathering the dirty plates.
“Let me help you.”
They worked together in silence. When everything was clean, he took her in his arms. She was as forgiving as a stone column, but he was determined to get past the barriers she’d put between them. He needed to show her how much he still loved her. He’d apologized in every way he knew how. Now it was up to his actions to speak for him.
He started with her lips, tracing them with the tip of his finger until they softened and parted for him—the first glimmer of hope sparked in his chest. She was scared, uncertain of him, of their relationship. He needed to show her the physical connection they shared was still there, solid and unchanged.
Leaning in, he covered her mouth with his while he cradled her cheek in his palm. Her initial reticence made his heart ache, but he refused to give up on his mission.
“I love you,” he murmured against her lips before he let her see just how hungry she made him. Backing her up until she was pressed against the counter, he divested her of her tank top, sucking in a harsh breath when he found her braless. He took a moment to enjoy the perfection of her then his hands went to work dismantling the invisible wall she’d built between them, one ice-cold brick at a time.
He took his time, not pushing, but not allowing her time to think either. He told her he loved her, breathing the words against the most sensitive parts of her body, punctuating each verbal reminder with a physical one. Words and actions. If one didn’t get through to her, perhaps the other would.
“I love you,” he whispered against her breast, his breath causing her nipple to bead. Sucking the tight bud into his mouth, he laved it with his tongue, nipped at it with his teeth. She arched beneath him, her body responding though he suspected her mind had yet to get with the program. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. He wanted her mindless, unable to think. If he could get past her brain, her heart would be defenseless.
Back and forth he went, from one breast to the other, while she cradled his head in her hands. The smell of her arousal sent a primitive surge of power through him. Dipping one hand between her legs, he coated his fingers with her juices then brought them up to spread the elixir over her nipple. Groaning, she offered the candy-coated crest to him.
God, he loved the way she tasted—like the rarest honey known to man. The sample wasn’t enough.
“More.” She shifted from foot to foot as he divested her of her clothes. Her hands slipped from his head as he descended to the op
en juncture of her thighs. On his knees, he buried his face in her mound. “God, you’re beautiful. Got to have you.” He grabbed her around the waist, lifting her to sit on the edge of the counter.
“Bent,” she moaned as he guided her feet over his shoulders, anchoring them there by wrapping his arms around her thighs.
“So damned perfect.” He parted her with his thumbs, her hips rose in silent invitation. He made love to her pussy. Lips to lips, he teased, tasted, and aroused until she uttered the word he had prayed to hear.
“Please. Please, Bent.”
With one last flick of his tongue over her clit, he looked up at her. “Please, what?”
“Please, Bent. I need you. Inside me. Now.”
“I love it when you beg,” he said. In a heartbeat, his jeans were around his knees, his cock pressed against her vagina. “Tell me again. Tell me what you want.”
“You.” She dug her fingernails into his ass. “I want you.”
Searching her eyes, he found the same love and desire he’d seen so many times before. “I love you,” he said, nudging his erection forward so her heat warmed the head. “Do you love me, Ashley?”
“I hate you,” she said, though her eyes made her declaration a lie.
He filled her with one hard stroke, burrowed deep inside her. He stilled. “Do you love me?” he asked again.
“I hate you,” she moaned.
Withdrawing, he tunneled deep again, filling her one slow inch at a time. When she’d taken all of him, he rocked against her. “Do you love me?”
Closing her eyes, she sighed. When she opened them again, she met his gaze. “Goddamn it, I love you, Bentley. I hate it, but I love you.”
“Then we’ll work it out, babe. We’ll work this out.”
I hope so. Oh, God, I hope you’re right.
When Bentley made love to her, she forgot everything except how perfect he felt inside her. Tonight was no different. She’d tried so hard to resist him, had insisted for days he keep his hands to himself. He’d honored her wishes until this evening, then with a few whispered words and magic hands, he’d found his way past her barriers, all the way to her core.
I love him. No matter what he’s done, I love him.
He continued his sensual assault on her body, stroking inside her, touching, kissing, savoring every inch of skin he could reach until she was mindless, lost in the maelstrom of feelings swirling around in her heart.
Love for him, hate for what he’d done, shattering disappointment knowing he loved another when he was everything to her—the crushing feeling she’d lost something precious and nothing they did or said in the future would fix it.
Yet she loved him. Couldn’t bring herself to let him go. A war waged between her heart and her head, but for this blessed amount of time when Bentley commanded her body, she was free of the turmoil, free of the doubts and indecision. Free of the hurt. There was nothing but their love for each other. Her body recognized it, craved it. Though her heart was raw from days of crippling pain, it opened tonight, accepting his love like it was an enchanted potion capable of fixing everything.
“Mine,” he growled in her ear, his breath hot and fast as he drove into her.
Her arms closed around him, reveled in the power evident in his hard muscles. The way he tempered his strength for her made her feel cherished. Bentley was the man she loved. He was physically capable of hurting her, but always gentle, careful. Except for one time when he’d shown her another side of himself.
A side she had liked.
Flashes of that night came back to her. He’d taken her hard, so much harder than ever before, more like he had the afternoon in the grass, but harder. Always so in control, it was as if he’d been caged for years, then suddenly, the door had sprung open. He’d been wild and free. God, she’d loved it.
He’d apologized before she’d had a chance to tell him how much she had liked the new side of him. The pleasurable memories were buried beneath the crushing weight of his confession and the shock she’d had to absorb. She was still trying to process it.
I liked it.
She stilled, willing the memory to come back. “Bent. Stop.”
Freezing in mid-stroke, he gazed at her with such tender concern she wanted to cry. “Did I hurt you? What is it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You didn’t hurt me.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “You know the night you told me? Do you remember how you made love to me?”
He closed his eyes. A muscle ticked along his jaw line then he opened his eyes again. “I remember. God, I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have. I—”
“Stop. No more apologies—at least not for the things you did.” She met his gaze, held it. “I liked it, Bent. I really liked it. I never got a chance to tell you because you were apologizing. Then…well, I forgot. I forgot to tell you no apology was needed. I liked it.”
“You liked it.” His concerned expression gave way to confused desire. He didn’t move, didn’t say a thing for so long she began to think she should have waited to tell him. “What are you saying?” he asked.
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” she answered. Was she asking for him to make love to her that way again? “I just wanted you to know you didn’t hurt me. It felt good. You were so…strong…decisive…assertive. I won’t break.”
“God, babe.” His eyes gleamed then a wicked smile broke across his face. He pulled out of her. “I hope you know I’m going to fuck you six ways to Sunday now.”
“I know. I want you, too.”
“Bedroom.” He yanked his jeans up. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing.
She liked this side of him—masterful, determined. He deposited her on the bed, undressed then joined her. She opened her legs, inviting him to take her any way he wanted.
His first hard thrust scooted her up the mattress then he rose to his knees. Sitting back on his heels, he lifted her ass in the air. “Spread your legs. Knees up. Hold them there.”
She did as he asked. He took her hard, one powerful thrust after another. She tried to move with him, but what the position lacked in freedom of movement, it made up for with visibility. It enabled her to see his thick cock impaling her. Watching the joining of their bodies was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life.
Sweat glistened on his toned body, but he never let up or looked away from her face.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He found her clit and rubbed. He applied just the right amount of pressure, circling. “Come for me, babe. Milk my dick.”
His words were crude, demanding. He took what he wanted from her but gave so much back. She loved watching the play of muscles in his magnificent body—reminders of who he was, what he was—an athlete in his prime. Like before, the sensations were different but not unpleasant. The same things she’d felt before came back in a rush. Her body tingled and sparked with each powerful thrust. Her head swam, overwhelmed with the raw, primitive nature of their coupling.
Clenching the bedcovers in her fists, she held on. A familiar tension began to build in her stomach, but this time there was something wild about it. She felt like she was on a runaway roller coaster—exhilarating in the headlong rush of dips and curves, climbing fast toward the moment when the world would fall away and for a moment, she would fly.
He reached out, squeezed her breast then pinched her nipple. She came off the rails. Arching her neck, she flew. The tightly wound tension inside her uncoiled, catapulted her faster and faster. Out of control—her body bucked. She writhed in his hold, grasping for every bit of pleasure until the crazed ride slowed. She braced for the crash, but his hands, cradled her, brought her safely back to earth.
“Hold on, babe. We aren’t done yet.”
Boneless, she thought she couldn’t possible experience anything more. Her hands slipped from her thighs. Her feet fell to the mattress. Rough hands replaced hers, held her wide. Bentley rode her, slamming into her with short, almost brutal
thrusts. Tension built. The roller coaster launched, and once again, she rode the waves of ecstasy.
His cock throbbed inside her. The rhythm of his thrusts became erratic right before he came with a muffled curse. Hot cum bathed her inner walls. Grasping for sanity, she followed him down the big hill, screaming her pleasure all the way.
* * *
The writing was on the wall. Their arrangement would never work. One glimpse of Ashley’s face after he’d kissed her fiancé was all the confirmation Sean needed. The idea of him and Bent together confused her, possibly disgusted her.
She’s always going to be between us.
The mantra repeated in his head as he returned the few items he’d unpacked to his suitcase. Bent was going to be pissed tomorrow when he discovered Sean had left.
Better now than later.
Hanging around was just going to make the complete dissolution of their affair more painful.
She’s always going to be between us.
He loves her too much to let her go. She’s never going to accept him being in love with a man, too.
Yeah, moving in had been her idea, but he saw it in her eyes—shock. Hearing your fiancé say he was in a sexual relationship with a man was one thing, seeing it was something altogether different. But he’d be damned if he was going to live on the same property with the man he loved and not have him any goddamn time he wanted him. That was shit.
They’d been right to call it off when they did. Dredging it up today had been a huge mistake—one he was going to correct right this minute. Hauling his suitcase to his car, he glanced up at the main house. One light was on, a dim one, perhaps a hallway light, illuminating one of the upstairs windows.
Were they up there right now having sex? She’d call it making love. She thought she was in love with the man, but she wasn’t. Not deep down, I’d-sell-my-soul-for-him, in love. If she was, she wouldn’t have looked horrified when he kissed him. Hell, she’d looked as if he’d violated her. Her!
