by Liz Crowe
Then, when she couldn’t stand it another second, she’d moved, taken off his sunglasses and kissed him. Determined just to taste, to try, to let him know how she felt; it had quickly progressed, and she found herself stroking him unable to get enough. She blushed with the memory and her skin prickled in every spot where he’d touched her.
She stood, paced, running her hands through her hair. She was not trying to mess with him, no matter what either man thought. She wanted him. More than she’d wanted anything. Catch was—she wanted Ian too and not just as a fuck buddy anymore. Their hours together at work and outside of it had become so comfortable she’d lie awake most nights watching him sleep, or if she were home alone, wishing she were watching him sleep.
Ugh. What a fucking mess you’ve made Hannah. And now, you’ve potentially even screwed up what you thought you had with Ian because all of your horny bullshit. She sat, but would not allow herself a cry—that was one thing she would not do. No man was worth her tears—of that she was certain and she’d made that particular vow to herself years ago. She was not about to break it now no matter how tempting it may be. She rose, turned out the office lights and headed downstairs, wondering just how she could face Ian the next day, or Nick ever again.
Ian put a hand to Nick’s cheek, slanted his mouth over his and tried not to think, attempted to let his emotions lead him. Nick clutched at his shoulders over the truck’s console, a desperation to his movements that Ian recognized at once. He pulled away, swallowed hard, then got out of the truck. Nick met him halfway before he made it around to the other side, shoving him back against the truck’s hood and forcing his lips open with his tongue, gripping his hair, his ass, everywhere all at once.
Ian groaned, and pulled away. He held the other man’s shoulders, kept his focus on Nick’s face. He lifted off the sunglasses and ran a hand down Nick’s rough jaw. “Stop. Relax. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m sorry. She…I…well, that was sort of my fault back there.”
“What?” Nick’s hands shook when he ran them through his hair. Ian cursed for the millionth time, putting this vulnerable man in such a difficult position. He should walk away from it—from Hannah, for whom his feelings were becoming complex enough to terrify him—from Nick, whose very presence right now brought out urges Ian fought with everything he had. He was going to ruin everything if he didn’t watch it and bring two innocent people along for his selfish ride.
He held Nick at arm’s length. “I planted the idea with her, about you. I could tell you guys had a moment on the dance floor at the reception and, um, well, I told her I thought it was kind of hot. And she is sort of a sex convert these days.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Nick leaned next to him, shivering in the cold night air.
Ian took a breath, and leapt into the void, hoping like hell Hannah would not kill him for what he was about to reveal. “Hannah was what you might call repressed. Sexually speaking. She didn’t have bad experiences necessarily, just not many of them and after a while didn’t really seek them out. She worked, went to school and worked, in that order. Dating or sex or relationships were not on her agenda.”
“Yeah, and so you were just the guy to help her out with that, I take it.”
“Apparently.” The men stayed quiet. “Sounds like I’m some kind of predator when you put it that way, but I assure you it was mutual. She needed, I needed, we both give and get. And it’s…well, it’s nice.”
“Super. Happy for you guys. Now if you will excuse me,” Nick gripped the dog’s lead and started to push away from the truck.
Ian grabbed his hand. “Wait. Nick, I need you to hear this. Don’t judge her. She’s not trying to fuck with your mind, I swear it.” Nick stood, held out his hand. Ian handed him the Ray Bans. “I want you to know. I would, I mean, I’d like…oh hell.” He gave in to the intense need and tugged the man close, kissing him long and deep, making them both breathless in the near dawn of a freezing Saturday morning.
Nick pulled away, reached down and cupped Ian’s erection. “Yeah, I know what you want. I can tell what you’d like. But I don’t, okay. I … it’s too much for me. I don’t want…her. I mean, I can’t.” This last was choked out, making Ian flinch from the emotion he heard in the man’s voice.
“I think you do,” he ran a finger across Nick’s cheek. “And I don’t blame you. She is the most amazing woman on the planet hands down, period, end of story. And our relationship is not about…love. More about friendship and, um, mutual satisfaction I guess. So…if you change your mind,” he let the sentence trail away.
Nick planted his feet and poked a finger into Ian’s chest. “That is the dumbest, most asinine horse shit I have ever heard. That you actually think that about her is one thing, but to let it pass your lips as if you really mean it? You disappoint me, Donovan. And don’t worry. I won’t change my mind,” Nick’s rough voice betrayed him but he whirled around and stomped up the steps to his house. Ian watched him go, a bright burst of possibility making his knees weak. He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Hannah without even thinking.
“It’s ok. He’s fine. I’m fine. Get some sleep. Let’s talk about next steps.”
But he sat in the kitchen sipping coffee, giving up on sleep, thinking about what Nick had said, and picturing Hannah for the rest of the morning. He dragged himself up and into the car, needing to pick Jamie up from his mother’s where he’d left him in the middle of the night to deal with the emergency. As usual, one look at his son’s face and hearing his happy declarations when he jumped into Ian’s arms smoothed his rattled nerves and gave him fresh resolve.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nick’s hands shook, his face burned but the rest of him was ready. More than ready—he was locked and loaded, and needed to fuck something. Bad. That was the sum total of this little adventure, he repeated in his head for the thousandth time—fucking, screwing, getting off, pure and simple, nothing more. And he deserved it, every last breathless, pleasant minute of it.
The room was chilly, but it felt good against his skin. He reached down, but the dog wasn’t there. A small thrill of panic lit the base of his spine. He couldn’t get anywhere without the animal. He held out a hand, started to open his mouth, to ask for a ride home, suddenly not ready anymore. He replayed the last few days in his head, still not believing he’d experienced it.
Hannah had come to his house two days ago, just shown up on his porch uninvited. They sat outside in the cold—she refused to come in—and talked for what felt like hours. She gave him her side of the “Ian is my fuck buddy” story and he still didn’t buy it. But she’d gotten him talking too, about Jake, and how he wasn’t with him anymore, because that just felt cheap and crappy. He asked her point blank about the “sex convert” stuff Ian had alluded to and she confirmed it. Her heart pounded like a kick drum whenever she talked about Ian. Nick knew her emotions were ruling her, and he cursed Ian all over again for being such a blind shithead to the whole thing.
They’d sat, sipped water, and talked more. Nick told her about the professor, about the few women he’d been with, and a little about Dan. But that subject remained a fresh wound that wouldn’t allow him to dig too deep.
She’d stood, gave him a soft hug and brush of her lips to his jaw. “I’m sorry for jumping you like that in the office. But I’d love it if you…could consider my—our—offer. We won’t do anything you don’t want to. But honestly, Nick I—we—feel strongly about you and want you to be happy.”
“And you think engaging in a three way with you and Ian Donovan will accomplish that?” He’d hated the sound of his own voice right then.
“Yes.”
He’d sensed her move away from him. Anger, combined with lust, rolled around in his gut. “I don’t do girls, not anymore.” He’d declared, his hand gripping the chair back.
“I’m not asking you to do girls Nicholas.” She’d said from a few feet away. “I’m inviting you to make love to me and Ian together. But I
understand if you’d rather not.”
He lifted his face and let a breeze cool his burning hot face. And then he knew she was there, near. No, right next to him. Her hand took his, her lips pressed against his jaw. He tensed up, a sudden flight reaction roaring through his nerve endings. He pulled away from her, turned, stumbled against some random stupid piece of furniture. “Where is my dog?” he asked, regaining his footing before he landed on his ass. “God damn it, Ian, get me out of here.”
Silence met his ears. Silence tinged with a distant, pounding heartbeat. He put his hands on his hips. “Sorry,” he said for the millionth time. “I thought I was ready for this. I’m … not. I should go.”
He turned, and Hannah was there, filling his nose and his arms with the amazing sweet essence of her. He tried not to respond, attempted to stop the rushing blood in his ears and the straining behind his zipper. “Shh,” she said, her lips close to his. Her cool palms stroked his face. He clenched his jaw, but her lips trailed along there. “It’s okay. Relax.”
He put his hand on her hips, determined to push her away, to end this stupid set up or seduction scene or whatever the hell it was. It was starting to irritate him, all this effort for a simple physical act. One he was more than ready to perform granted but unable to justify all of a sudden.
“Listen,” he said, when he heard music waft in from somewhere. He leaned down, touched his lips to her bare shoulder, shivering when he wrapped his mind around the fact that she was totally naked. Now that she was closer he smelled her, all of her—the sweetness of her skin, the spicy tang of her need just below that. “You should know something about me.” He muttered, his lips near her flesh.
She ran her hands down his front, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, delectably, pressing her lips against every inch of skin that she bared. “Uh huh, what’s that,” she asked when her fingers reached his belt, unbuckling, and unzipping and undressing him in slow, determined movements. He grabbed her hands as she reached for his straining boxer shorts. She stopped and stepped away, taking her tantalizing scent with her.
“I’m not into this because of you. I want…I need to see…I mean, try…I’m…oh dear Lord, just come back over here would ya?”
His brain shut down when she molded her soft, lithe form into his. He ran his hands down her back, her ass, then back up, adoring the feel of her, the sensation of her breasts pressed against him, the distinct warmth between her legs. He licked his lips. “I’ll bet you taste just like you smell. Like honey, heavenly,” his voice was rough, his entire body a raw nerve ending, twitching and needing release.
“She does,” Ian’s voice rolled through him. He felt the man’s hand on his shoulder, trailing down his back to his ass. “And one of her favorite ways to come is at the end of your tongue.”
Hannah made her little moan and sigh, and Nick sensed Ian’s hand low, touching her, stroking her sex. Her chemistry changed then. He smelled it, felt it in his arms when she moved, arching her back and making that intense noise down in her throat. He sucked in a ragged breath. Was he ready for this? Did he want…her? Or was he just humoring Ian because he wanted him so badly he would sometimes wake up crying out the man’s name in the night.
And now, he was here. Ian’s hard, masculine body was pressed to his back the soft voluptuous curves of Hannah at his front. “Feel her,” Ian whispered into Nick’s ear. “Like this,” He took Nick’s hand, placed against her sex. Heat, moisture, and raw lust curled up in his brain, nestling in for the long haul. He groaned, leaned into kiss her, sweeping into her mouth with a firm thrust of his tongue as his and Ian’s fingers found the hard button of her firm, erect clit. “Keep stroking her there.” Ian said, his other hand now gripping Nick’s aching cock. “Uh huh,” Ian said. Nick didn’t know if he were coming, or going—was the giver or receiver of pleasure. “Relax, Nick. Don’t think about it. Just feel,” Ian commanded, biting his earlobe. He ground his long shaft against the cleft of Nick’s ass.
“Jesus,” Nick muttered, running his lips down the sleek line of Hannah’s neck. She wrapped her arms around him, held on tight as he stroked her, then slid deeper, the moist folds of her pulling him, calling to him. The grip of her sex around his finger was tight, different from what he was used to but one of the most pleasantly erotic things he’d felt.
“Nick,” she whispered, shuddering into him and lifting a leg around his waist. Ian grabbed it, held on to her, keeping his delicious friction up and down Nick’s cock. “Make me come…ah…” she tensed, then he felt it—the sweet pulse and spasm of her on and around his hand. A soft gush of fluid coated his fingers. “Yes…” she hissed, arching her back and angling her hips closer.
“Lovely Hannah,” Ian muttered, then he dropped her leg, and stepped back from Nick, leaving him cold, bereft, and throbbing with unmet need. He put his trembling fingers to his lips and sighed.
“I told you,” Ian said, taking his hand and guiding him a few feet to the right. “She’s here, lying on the bed, her nipples are hard and ready and that sweet pussy—well, you’ve only felt a little of what it will do for you…take her Nick. She’s yours.”
But Nick stopped, frozen, panic making his throat close. He shook uncontrollably and his brain started a familiar slide into terror. He wanted this. More than he’d wanted anything since losing Dan. But he wanted them both, and that just felt selfish and wrong. Panic gripped him and he sensed withdrawal on his horizon.
Hannah bit her lip and watched as Ian led Nick to the bed. She still tingled from the knee-jerk orgasm she’d had, coming practically from the sheer presence of the men, Ian holding her leg while Nick stroked and kissed her. But the smaller man was shaking more than she liked and so she sat up, put her hand on Ian’s arm and mouthed the words: “Back away a minute.”
He nodded and stepped into the shadows of the candlelit room. She pulled Nick down to seated and handed him a glass of water. His unseeing eyes shone in the candlelight, his amazing thick shaft pressed up against his belly but his hand trembled when he handed the empty glass to her. She put it down and sat next to him, running her fingers through his hair, light, easy, attempting not to throw him down and straddle him and in the process scaring him to death. He took a deep breath, and smiled at her.
She cupped his chin. Her heart hammered against her chest. She was turned on beyond belief, but something else nibbled at the corner of her consciousness. She was not this girl, and how she’d gotten to this point was simultaneously thrilling and mortifying. But something about Nick, his innocent smile, his poor ruined eyes, his odd juxtaposed strength and extreme vulnerability made her pause. Maybe this wasn’t right. She leaned her head on his shoulder. He shifted and put an arm around her. His lips touched her hair.
“We don’t have to go any farther Nick. If you don’t want to. I…I’m feeling a little predatory right now. Don’t get me wrong. I want you.” She let her fingers trail along the inside of his muscular thigh, briefly graze his sex. Her skin pebbled in reaction to his shiver, and she watched a clear, pearly drop of fluid appear at the head of his cock. “But,” she forced herself to take her hand off him, “perhaps we’ve done too much too soon.”
“Oh, hell no,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he ran a finger along her jaw, tilted her face up and kissed her, parting her lips, meeting her tongue and pressing her back on the bed at the same time. She sighed, put one foot on the bed, let the cool air caress her from tip to toe. “Hannah,” he sighed into her neck as his hand cupped a breast, caressed her nipple. “I am pissed off beyond belief that I can’t actually see you but believe it or not your smell has me so turned on I…I’m afraid. I can’t be what you need me to be. I’m…oh….”
She gave in to the moment, let it carry away any of logic or rationale and just kissed him, pulled him over on top of her, wrapped her entire self around him. If she angled her hips just right she would have him and she wanted it so bad it hurt. But he propped up on his arms, the st
range green of his sightless eyes seeming to bore into her, intent, and sad. He started at her jaw, licking, nibbling, making her shiver then worked his slow, delectable way down.
“Oh, dear God, I love these,” he cradled the curve of one breast, leaving her nipple, tugging and sucking so hard she pulsed in immediate response. She threaded her fingers in his hair and closed her eyes, an odd sensation pressing behind them as if she could actually cry from the perfection of the moment. But she was no crier, so she focused on the exquisite sensation of Nick’s lips and hands.
“Nice,” she heard Ian’s soft voice near her ear. She opened her eyes and looked at him, held out a hand. He threaded his fingers in hers. As Nick nibbled his way down her torso, palming her hips and lifting them up to meet his face, Ian rolled in next to her, his own long, elegant cock pressed hard against her hip. He kept holding her hand. “That’s right Nick. Right there. She is so incredibly sensitive,” he brushed the back of their joined hands against her nipple. She let go and cried out when Nick’s lips found her clit. He sucked hard, elongating her flesh, tickling it with his tongue then he let go as quickly as he started making her gasp and tilt her hips higher, needing him back where he’d been.
His tongue flicked downward, stroked along the edges of her pussy, moaning the whole time. She gripped his hair, felt Ian’s strong hands on her nipples, pinching, tugging just as Nick latched onto her clit again. “Jesus!” She cried out and a weird wave of extreme emotion washed over her. She draped her legs over Nick’s shoulders. His hands dug into her ass as Ian leaned into suck her nipple. “Oh…” her vision dimmed, the room narrowed, and her back arched.
She opened her eyes and drew in a huge breath. She smelled man, all around her, all over her. She released Nick’s hair, touched her face and drew her fingers away wet, startling herself. But right now tears seemed like only a reflection of the extreme emotions that gripped her.
