Switch Hitter

by Roz Lee

  Sean looked amazing in his dark blue suit and red, power tie. God, he’d missed him. Missed his body. Missed holding him. Memories of the last time they’d been together flickered like a fireworks show through his brain. He’d taken him the same way he had just fantasized about taking Ashley—with his suit disheveled but still on, from behind.

  Shit.

  “I’m a sucker for a suit, it seems.” He directed his comment at his former lover, willing him to remember.

  The man’s gaze snapped to him, held for what felt like a lifetime before his lips twitched upward on one corner. “You owe me for dry cleaning.”

  So…he remembered.

  “Fuck your dry cleaning.”

  Damn. He could hear his own heart beating—the silence in the room was so complete as the veiled challenge hung in the still air. He was having a hard time focusing on anything but his need to fuck these two people. Yet, when Sean looked at him, all smug and knowing, he felt an unnerving need to surrender to the man—to lie beneath him—to know, in giving himself, he was loved and cherished.

  “You guys are steaming up the windows,” his fiancé said, slicing the sexual tension in the room with her wit. “Bentley.”

  He cut his gaze to her.

  “Are you going to undress us here, or should we go to the bedroom?”

  It took him two tries to get a word out of his mouth. “Sean?”

  “My sister?”

  “Could come back,” she said, “though she didn’t seem to think she would.”

  “Upstairs,” Sean said. “I’m not taking any chances.” He turned toward the stairs.

  “Wait!”

  He stopped at Bentley’s sharp command. He crossed the room to his fiancée. She glanced up at him. The love and understanding in her eyes almost brought him to his knees.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips before he kissed her. He poured all the passion he felt for her into the kiss. When he broke from her, she smiled up at him.

  He turned to his lover who stood statue still, having watched the entire kiss. He couldn’t read a thing on the man’s face. Was he turned on, repulsed, indifferent? He’d force a response from him. Toe-to-toe with him, he cupped the other man’s face, kissing him with the same passion he had lavished on his fiancée. Where she had caressed his forearms, showing him her tender acquiescence, Sean wrapped his hands around his head and crushed their mouths together in a war of dominance.

  Their bodies collided below the belt. The answer to his question came in the hard ridge of the erection dueling with his own. They kissed until they were out of breath before breaking apart. The drop of sweat trickling from his temple to his jaw was mirrored on his lover’s face.

  “Let’s take this upstairs,” Ashley said, her voice husky. She was aroused. Well, that made three of them.

  In silence, she lead the way up the staircase, followed by Sean. He trailed behind, mesmerized by the two people ahead of him. Inside their bedroom, he closed the door. They stood facing him, Ashley looking so damned prim and proper. Her lips were red from their kiss downstairs; her face flushed with desire. She shifted on her feet, a clue to the nerves skittering below her calm exterior—a reminder she’d never been in a sexual situation with more than one person at a time. He had no idea if his lover had, but he didn’t give a fuck. He needed to make the first time good for his fiancée or the first would also be the last.

  Taking a moment to compose himself, he crossed the room. He emptied his pockets, tossing his wallet on top of the dresser. Another landed beside it. Sean’s. In all their hotel room encounters, they’d never emptied their pockets before sex. He stared at the leather rectangles, stunned by the intimacy of the simple act of coming home—the implied permanence of it. They’d sleep together. Wake up together. Dress and go out into their normal world together.

  Sean slipped his feet from his shoes then went back to stand beside Ashley. Bentley toed off his shoes, leaving them on the floor next to his. He turned to his lovers.

  He approached her first. Locking gazes with her, he slipped his hands beneath her suit jacket to bracket her waist. The silk of her blouse was cool to his fingers as he inched it loose from the waistband of her skirt.

  His thumbs brushed bare skin. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyelids dropping. He switched his focus to her parted lips as he continued to explore her body with slow but thorough hands. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, a sweet musk that called to him, captivating him in a sensual web of desire and need so acute it made his knees weak.

  Her breathing became erratic, tuned to the exploratory whims of his fingers. He palmed one lace-covered breast. Her head fell back, allowing his lips access to a long column of alabaster skin. Kissing his way from her chin to the sweet swell of her breasts, he encountered the first in a line of obstacles—a pearl button. He began to work it loose with his teeth. Something moved in his line of vision. Sean moved behind her, easing her back to rest against his chest, his long fingers massaging her shoulders.

  The sight of his strong hands on her sent a bolt of pure lust ricocheting through his system. He wanted them both. Wanted to lay them out side-by-side and make love to them until none of them were able to move.

  Determined not to rush, he worked each tiny pearl loose, savoring every inch of skin as he peeled the thin layer of fabric away. When the last one popped free, he pressed his lips to her stomach. She brought her hands up, spearing her fingers through his hair, urging him upward toward her breasts. He leaned back, one hundred percent onboard with granting her wish. Sean’s hands slid along the length of her arms, captured her wrists, guiding her to clasp the back of his neck, elongating her torso and forcing her back to arch. He watched as masculine hands released the center clasp on her bra, pushed the lace cups aside then cupped her cream and rose-tipped mounds in his palms—offering her to him.

  It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He locked gazes with his male lover for a second, acknowledging how much his participation meant to him. Then he dipped his head to suck one perfect nipple into his mouth.

  She gasped. He switched to the other side. Sucking and tugging, he let the soft cries coming from her lips guide his actions. Loathe to leave one breast unattended, he reached for the lonely one, cupped Sean’s hand with his, commanding him to tease her tight nub. Either he’d done it before or he was a quick learner. Either way, he left the other man in charge of her breasts. Kneeling, he wrapped his hands around the back of her knees.

  With infinite care not to miss a single inch of her firm thighs, he inched his hands up, her black pencil skirt piling atop his wrists like accordion bellows. He continued, up and over the sweet globes of her ass, the skirt dipping low in the front to hide her delicate mound. Before he could move his hands to fix the situation, Sean reached down, gathered the fabric in his long fingers, lifting it to her waist.

  She didn’t have a scrap of fabric on under her skirt. Her bare pussy, concealed between clenched thighs, beckoned him.

  Bentley swallowed hard. He’d never imagined another man taking an active part in his love making with Ashley, but damn, it was sexy as hell and driving him mad with the need to have them both. As much as he enjoyed the sight of her soft skin exposed to him by callused hands, he was on a mission to end the raging hunger inside him.

  He grasped her legs, urging them to part. Once again, another came to his aid, using his sock-clad feet to force hers apart, holding them wide, exposing all her tender, pink secrets to him. He tilted his face up—met Sean’s gaze head-on. A fire burned in the blue depths of his lover’s eyes as he held Bent’s fiancée in his embrace—one hand beneath her chin, immobilizing her—one fist clenched against her belly, exposing her. For him.

  In that heated moment, he knew Sean wasn’t jealous of his love for Ashley. If the banked fires in his gaze were any indication, he was turned on watching him with the woman he loved.

  You’re next, my love. You’re next.

 
He reached between her legs, grabbed the man’s balls through his trousers and squeezed hard.

  “Fuck!”

  Smiling, he buried his face in his fiancée’s pussy.

  She dug her fingernails into the back of Sean’s neck and held on to him as if he were the single thing preventing her from slipping off the top of Reunion Tower.

  She’d expected Bentley to take charge, but not for his male lover to become her anchor. Oh, holy hell, it was erotic being held by him while her fiancé tormented her body, one tender kiss at a time.

  This was nothing like what she’d imagined when they’d talked about the three of them together. She’d imagined…something less…overwhelming. Sean on one side of the bed, watching, then her returning the favor while they took turns loving each other.

  But, oh dear God, this was…mind blowing.

  She’d been prepared for him watching—thought it would add an edge of naughty to their lovemaking, but….

  Bentley’s tongue teased her clit then swept through her folds, flattening out to lap at her as if she were one of those swirly lollipops from the candy shop at the stadium. The stubble on his cheeks scraped against her skin, adding to the complete feeling of possession that took hold of her the minute the two of them teamed up on her.

  If she could just touch him, see him as he drove her closer to the point where she’d lose her grip and free fall into pleasure. But a callused hand on her chin and the one at her waist, held her pinned. His feet were immovable objects spreading her open. Vulnerable. Loved. Cherished. Possessed.

  She couldn’t bear it to go on another minute, never wanted it to end. Bentley’s mouth was the sweetest torture, driving her close to the brink then backing off again. Each time, she thrust her hips toward him, begging while frustrated moans whispered past her lips. Each time, Sean’s words, meant just for her, brought tears to her eyes.

  “Shh, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Let the pain take you higher. You’re going to fly when he lets you come.”

  He knew the sharp edge of pleasure, knew how it sliced yet hurt so damned good. Yes, she wanted to fly. Wanted to spin off into oblivion….

  “Relax,” he whispered once when she thought the frustration might take her away. His rough fingers stroked her neck, soothing and arousing. His hot breath on the shell of her ear was more erotic than the words he spoke.

  “Feel his tongue, tasting, feasting on you. He can’t get enough, sweetheart. You bring him to his knees. He worships at your feet. He loves you so.”

  Her heart wept, knowing the words were true. Bentley loved her, would do anything for her, even give up the love of another to make her happy.

  “Come for him, sweetheart. Give yourself to him.”

  As if they’d choreographed their moves, her fiancé chose that moment to flick his tongue over her clit. He bit the throbbing nub, tugging and sucking as he speared her with his fingers. It was too much. It would never be enough. She lost her tenuous grip on reality. As the man holding her predicted, she flew—not the graceful flight of a dove, but the ungainly flight of a mechanical bird tumbling wing over wing in a downward spiral. She plummeted to earth at the speed of light, convulsing and weeping with the frightening beauty of it.

  When she crashed, her men were there to catch her. Reduced to a boneless rag doll, she leaned against one then the other while they removed her clothes then laid her on the bed. Clothed, they lay beside her, touching and stroking. She should have felt self-conscious, naked in bed with two fully clothed men, but she didn’t. Bentley had seen her countless times. After the way Sean held her, seemed to read her mind with his whispered words, his dedication to her pleasure, she felt as if he’d already seen inside her, and that was more important than seeing the outside.

  “You okay?” Bentley peered down at her, one hand bracing him over her, the other resting low on her stomach, swirling, sending sparks of desire through her once again. The words were casually spoken, but he was asking about more than her physical status and they all knew it.

  “Perfect,” she replied, smiling weakly. “Never better.”

  “Ready for round two?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  His brows knit together in a frown. “For what?”

  “For…everything.” She felt too much to explain it. Maybe later, but for now, she wanted to return the favor. She turned her head to look at the new addition to their bed. He was lying on his good side, his cheek resting on his arm stretched above his head. The fingers of his other hand played with a lock of her hair.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  He, too, rose up to look down on her. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I’m sure.” She sat up, forcing the two men to scoot out of her way. With a symbolic shove to the chest, she pushed Sean out of the bed. “Come on, Bentley. I’ll help you have your way with him.”

  The look on the newcomer’s face was priceless—shock, fear, and lust. Her fiancé shuffled to his feet in front of his lover. She moved behind Sean. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached over his shoulder to loosen his tie. Bentley watched her slip the knot then free the top two buttons on his dress shirt. His eyes never left her hands.

  “What now?” she asked her fiancé.

  “Pull his shirttails out then unbutton his shirt from the bottom up.”

  Sean held his arms out wide. She wrapped hers around his waist, tugging the starched fabric from his waistband. When it hung loose all around, still behind him, she worked the fasteners free. With her cheek pressed against his back, she was aware of every ragged breath he took. She could only imagine what it felt like to have a woman prepare him to receive his lover.

  She smiled to herself. It was fun, feeling the trembles wracking this powerful man when she parted his shirt.

  Peeking around his broad shoulders, she glanced at Bentley for further instructions. His fists hung at his sides, his jaw looked carved of granite. She could practically see heat radiating off him as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He was holding it together by sheer willpower, much like Sean. When they came together, the collision would be explosive.

  “His pants. Undo them.”

  Again, from behind, she freed his belt buckle. After that, the waistband fasteners and zipper were easy.

  “Push them down, underwear, too. But not all the way. He can hold them up.” His lips turned up on one side. “It’ll give him something to do with his hands.”

  His fragile hold on sanity was slipping fast. Impulse or instinct or some such shit had propelled him into action when Bentley was undressing Ashley. Goddamn, but that had turned out to be about the hottest sexual encounter he’d ever experienced. The expression on his lover’s face when he recognized what he was doing was priceless. Shock first, followed by lust and approval. He’d do damn near anything to see that look directed at him again.

  Now, here he stood, small, feminine hands all over him, doing Bentley’s bidding. The man had a thing about suits, no doubt about it. He was pretty damn sure he had another cleaning bill in his future, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as long as the man gazed at him like a lion biding his time while his lioness prepared his prey. He was about to be eaten alive, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

  But when he expected Bentley to suck him off, the man instead beckoned the woman to him.

  “Unzip me,” he commanded. “Just the zipper, then take my cock out.”

  He couldn’t see what she was doing, but from the look on his lover’s face, she was following instructions to the letter. Having completed the task, she stepped back.

  “On your knees,” he commanded her. “Take me in your mouth.”

  Oh, damn. His gaze followed her head as she dropped to her knees. He was able to catch a glimpse of Bentley’s engorged cock before his fiancée opened her mouth to take him in.

  With one hand on the top of her head, the other fisted at his waist, Bent kept his gaze locked on Sean’s while she worked his cock over with long strokes and noisy,
slurping sucking. Sean kept a death grip on his slacks, grateful for something to hold onto when what he wanted was to wrap his hand around his dick to find some relief.

  Fuck you, Randolph.

  As if he’d heard him, or read his mind, Bentley stayed his woman’s attentions. “Enough.” He pointed to the nightstand an arm’s reach away. “Get a condom and put it on me.”

  As she stepped to the side, he got a good look at his lover’s cock. It stood proud, wet. The color had deepened to purple from being sucked. It was all he could do not to fall to his knees and beg for a taste. It had been so long.

  Sheathed, Bentley took his fiancée by the hand, leading her to stand behind Sean. Like a tender lover, he worked Sean’s tie free of his collar then swung the tails over his shoulder. “Grab the ends,” he said to his woman. “Pull on it so he doesn’t look down.”

  She tugged on his tie. Bentley adjusted it so the loop rested just below his chin, forcing his face toward the ceiling. Her naked form pressed against his good side then a hot, wet mouth slid down the length of his cock, swallowing him whole and wrenching a string of curses from his lips.

  “Fuck it—that feels good.” His knees were jelly. His injured hip began to ache from holding himself under tight control for so long. He was dying to look—knew he’d see the top of Bentley’s head, the hollows of his cheeks as he worked his cock in and out of his mouth.

  A small, warm hand flattened over his heart, steeling the breath from his lungs. Then she began to talk to him.

  “He looks so beautiful, loving you this way. It almost takes my breath away.”

  God, he knew the feeling, but he was still alive, more alive than he’d been in months. He supposed he must be breathing.

  A hand between his legs forced him to let his pants slide a little farther down. Heat cradled his balls, rolled them around then tugged. Ashley. When had she moved her hand from his chest?