One (Love by Numbers Book 5)

by E. S. Carter

  We both raise our eyes to our third; the person sat opposite us who has been strangely mute since I arrived.

  Flynn looks from both of us to the tray of drinks, shakes his head, almost like he’s clearing away doubt, and then selects a glass.

  With his eyes fully on mine, he raises his glass in mock salute and says, “To fun with friends,” before knocking back its contents and chasing it down with a gulp of his pint.

  His stare says ‘game on’, and his body language is confrontational. A wiser man would back down and refuse to acknowledge the aggressive challenge in his eyes. I’ve never been a wise man. All his display has earnt him is the guarantee of being in my bed tonight. My cock throbs in anticipation. No more pussyfooting around, no more backing down. If he thinks he knows the rules to this game, he’s wrong.

  This is my game, and it will be played by my rules.

  There is no passing ‘Go’ to collect two hundred pounds, and no ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card. As I pick up another shot and bring it to my lips, I watch his eyes lock on the grin spreading across my face. I’ve just rolled double six, and he may not know it yet, but this game is already won.

  Heat.

  Lips.

  Tongue.

  Ache.

  Throb.

  My dark brown eyes stare back at me from the mirror in Céline’s small bathroom. Drops of water trickle down my face to land on the already damp neckline of my t-shirt and despite having escaped in here to gather my thoughts, and talk myself out of whatever is going to happen when I walk back out that door, I’ve yet to come up with a good excuse. My drink addled brain knows it’s a bad idea. My heated skin, throbbing cock, kiss-swollen lips and frantically beating heart have other notions.

  He hasn’t touched me. Yet.

  His eyes, his touch, his lips, have all been for Céline and that’s the way it should be. That’s the way it has to be. Yet, I still ache for something more.

  I left them getting hot and heavy in the living room while old Motown classics fill the air. Marvin Gaye was singing Let’s Get It On while I watched as Isaac’s hands skimmed over Céline’s curves and his mouth dominated hers. Taking, owning, pillaging, devouring. My dick throbbed, begging to be allowed in on the action and all it took was for Céline to beckon me to join them from over Isaac’s shoulder and I legged it in here like a coward.

  The moment we pulled up outside Celine’s building in a cab, I knew I should leave. I hesitated in the front seat of the taxi as they disembarked, but instead of listening to my head, I let my feet be led by my lust and I followed them up to Céline’s small apartment.

  While Isaac poured drinks, Céline dimmed the lights and fiddled with the stereo until Gaye’s silky smooth vocals enticed us all to begin what we came here to do.

  Isaac didn’t hesitate. I watched as he downed his drink without removing his eyes from the show Céline was creating. Her hips began to sway to the beat of the music, the centre of the room her stage from which to enrapture us. While his eyes were transfixed by the movements of her hands as they drifted over her skin, my eyes were locked on him. Two purposeful steps were all it took for him to reach her, wrap his arms around her waist and drag her body towards his until they were flush against each other. With his strong thigh between hers, pressing up against the soft flesh at the apex of her legs, she let out a husky moan and dropped her head back, exposing her throat for the taking. I felt every glide of his tongue along her skin as if it were me in his arms. Every time he dragged her covered pussy over the firm muscles of his thigh, I felt the friction against my cock. I was coming undone, and I hadn’t yet been touched. All it took was for Céline to open her eyes and invite me to join them and I lost it. I fought through the fog of my desire and instead of walking into the seductive scene playing out in front of me, I left the room.

  My traitorous body cursed every step I took away from them. My weak lungs refused to drag in enough air, and my pulsing cock throbbed so hard it hurt, but it was the organ hidden in my chest, encased in a cage of bones, sinew, veins and turbulent confusion that threatened my control more than anything else.

  I was so turned on I couldn’t see straight. I was so torn up inside and repulsed at myself that I wanted to walk away and never look back.

  Why?

  Why this man? Why this need? From where did this fucked up attraction stem?

  I don’t want him.

  I don’t want him.

  Liar.

  Liar.

  Liar.

  “Fuck!” I roughly drag my hands down my face once more and stare at the pathetic man that mocks me from the mirror.

  I couldn’t tell you what changed at that moment, what made me spin around and stride from the room with determined resoluteness.

  Nothing? Everything? Whatever the fuck it is has me rounding the corner with one hand on the button of my jeans and the other pushing against my aching cock.

  What greets me has me stopping dead in my tracks.

  Isaac is naked from the waist up. His firm, sculpted chest practically glistens in the dim light. His hands are in the front pockets of his jeans stretching the fabric across his groin and highlighting his obvious need. His head is bowed, eyes closed while he listens for the change in music and just as the unmistakable opening notes of Cry To Me by Solomon Burke erupt from the speakers, his head lifts and his eyes open to land on me. The song, made famous by that scene with Patrick Swayze, a song I know well as it’s one of my mother’s favourites, skitters over me, piercing straight through my chest and exposing everything I’ve tried and failed to hide.

  I want a man. I want this man.

  Céline turns towards us from her position at the stereo, and I glimpse a knowing look on her face as she walks back to Isaac with a seductive smile that is solely aimed at me. She’s challenging me to join them, forcing me to admit that I’m interested in more than her in this threesome.

  I can barely catch a breath as I watch her step in front of him, her movements slow, as she gently smooths her palms over his chest, fluttering her fingers across his collarbone, before curling one over his shoulder and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

  His hands land on her hips, but his eyes remain on me as he once more slips his thigh between her legs and begins to move both their bodies to the music. They grind against each other as their hips move as one to the melody. Céline presses herself tightly against the bulge of his straining cock and leans back so she can look at me while rubbing herself on him.

  “Join us, Mon Cheri,” she mouths at me, her eyes hooded with desire as she grinds herself harder on Isaac’s length while he begins to rock her against him in sync with the beat. Her mouth finds his neck and his hands latch onto the hem of her sweatshirt before he drags it over her head, leaving her in just a plain white bra. Still, their bodies remain fixed together, their hips swaying, gyrating against one another in a motion that hints at the things to come.

  During all of this, his eyes never leave mine. Not even for a second. He’s goading me, enticing me, daring me to move and expecting me to leave. It’s that thought that pushes me into action. I’m not going to do what he expects. If he thinks I’m going to run just because of this weird thing between us, he’s wrong.

  He grabs her leg, hooking it behind the knee and lifting it from the floor. The move allows him to lean her body further backwards so that her pussy rubs perfectly against him, eliciting a gasp of arousal to fall from Céline’s lips and five slow steps forward from me. I make sure to force my internal struggle from my features and replace it with the need that burns through my veins, allowing him to see every promise of what is about to come. When I reach their melded bodies, instead of coming behind Céline and sandwiching her further into him, I keep walking. Stretching out my fingers I allow them to graze the firm curve of her hip before I feather them across her leg until they are touching his denim clad thigh. Our eye contact breaks when I continue to step around him; my hand follows my movement to purposely trail along th
e waist of his jeans before dropping down to touch the well-rounded globe of his arse in a sweeping caress. Solomon Burke sings about loneliness being a waste of time as my other hand lands on his upper back, and my greedy fingers stroke over the firm muscles covered in intricate, black scroll lettering, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

  Acceptance is Serenity

  I can’t help what I do next. Seeing the raised bumps on his flesh, and the unexpected tattoo of words that both intrigue and unnerve me awakens something primal inside. A deep-seated need to taste what I’m doing to him overtakes me, and my lips quickly follow the path of my hand across his upper back and shoulders. The first contact of my mouth on his skin, just above the letter S at the start of Serenity, is my complete undoing. That and the low grumble I feel vibrating through his chest.

  You don’t have to walk alone, take my hand.

  He tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Soft, firm and smooth, with an earthy, clean undertone that makes my cock even harder, if that’s possible. With a groan of my own, I slide my hands around his hips to land on Céline’s, and while I pull her deeper into him, my hips push flush against his jean clad arse. My engorged cock pushes right up against his crease and like a heat seeking missile it finds its way as if it was made to settle between his firm, muscular cheeks.

  All movement stops as we stand as one. Celine pressed to Isaac’s front, me tight against his back, my lips a mere hairsbreadth away from the shell of his ear, my ragged breaths no doubt sending heat straight down his spine.

  Then it happens.

  Céline’s lips find his nipple and latch on, just as his hand reaches back to grab my neck and his head twists to the side so he can pull my panting mouth to his.

  If I thought I was lost before, then it was nothing compared to the way he makes me feel at this moment with his mouth claiming mine.

  Heat.

  Lips.

  Tongue.

  Ache.

  Throb.

  I am lost because he found me.

  “Bedroom.”

  The order is almost unintelligible as it escapes my lips on a groan.

  With Céline’s heat pressing against my raging cock and finally having Flynn’s taste in my mouth and hard body wrapped around my back, I’m surprised I can even formulate a coherent thought.

  I am seconds away from exploding in my pants like an immature teen, and moments away from saying “Fuck this” and pushing my two willing playmates to the floor. Bed be damned.

  Céline’s mouth leaves my nipple with an audible pop, and she gives me a saucy look as she trails her hands down my chest until they reach the front pockets of my jeans. Sliding a hand in each, the fingertips of her left grazes the tip of my weeping cock causing me to shudder, and her right hand grips the inner fabric to tug me forward as she takes slow, leading steps towards what I assume is her bedroom.

  I go willingly. Eagerly. My feet never hesitate. I may not know exactly how this night is going to play out, but I know he’s with us. He’s all in. That’s enough for me. I’m going to use this one night to purge Flynn Phillips from my head for good.

  Cold air hits the overheated skin on my back. We’ve only walked forward a handful of steps, but I know Flynn hasn’t followed us. Gently prising Céline’s fingers from my pockets, I stop our movements and glance down at her face. All I see in her dilated pupils, swollen lips, flushed cheeks and hooded eyes is pure need and lust, no second guessing, no apprehension and no doubts. She wants this; she wants two men in her bed, but she’s unaware that we’ve lost a player in our game for three.

  “Flynn, are you coming or going?” I keep my eyes fixed on Céline as I throw the question out, not wanting to see the indecision in his features, or worse, repulsion. I’ve been victim to that look on his face before. He made me feel worthless. He will never get that power over me again. I’m calling the shots tonight, not him.

  Céline leans around me, and I see the moment Flynn makes his decision when a wicked smile spreads her plump lips wide, her arousal heightened judging by the hitch in her breathing.

  I feel his heat once more as he approaches me from behind. My body braces for his touch, my entire being frozen in anticipation.

  I want his lips exploring my skin, his hands roaming every inch of me. Instead, I get a fleeting glance of his body, his stark naked and perfectly carved body, as he walks around us with his clothes balled up into one hand, and opens a door at the end of a small corridor. Hazy light spills from the opening a moment later, and Céline lets out a breathy laugh.

  “I guess that’s your answer.”

  Yes. I think the fact he’s stripped and ready more than indicates Flynn’s acceptance.

  She once more slips her hands into my pockets, before rising up on her toes to place her mouth over mine. It’s a fleeting invitation of what’s to come, and I allow her to lead me in the direction of the room that a naked Flynn disappeared into only seconds ago.

  She removes one of her hands as we approach the doorway, and tightens the grip of the other as she pulls me into the dimly lit room.

  The bedroom is small; just enough room for a double bed, dresser and nightstand but it wouldn’t make a difference how big the room was because there is one thing dominating it.

  Flynn Phillips, stark bollock naked, sprawled out on his back, his deliciously tanned and sculpted body a heady contrast against the stark white cotton sheets with his hand wrapped so tightly around his eight-inch cock that it makes me see stars.

  Fuck. That. Is. Hot.

  What’s even hotter is that with every drag of his tight fist over his engorged flesh his hips pump and his eyes never leave mine.

  My fingers twitch to touch him.

  My mouth waters to taste him.

  I simultaneously lick my lips and flex my fingers, as I talk myself down from taking whatever the fuck I want from him.

  Flynn’s eyes flick from my eyes to my mouth and he tries and fails to stifle a moan from slipping free. The subtle groan is like a beacon for my greedy stare as I watch, utterly transfixed, as a bead of pre-cum glistens on his broad crown. The flared head of his thick cock is an angry red, visibly displaying his body’s need, highlighting its desperate demand for release, urging him to blow his load no matter how hard he’s trying to hold back.

  My legs twitch with the need to move. I am just about to step forward and feast on what he is willingly offering me when Céline moves first.

  Since the moment we stepped into the room and my eyes landed on Flynn, all thoughts of her disappeared. I forgot we were three and judging by the wicked look she throws over her shoulder at me, just before she crawls onto the bed at Flynn’s feet, I’d say she’s more than aware that she’d been forgotten and she is not going to allow us to disregard her again.

  Flynn’s eyes briefly flick towards her, but the moment she wraps her plump mouth over the swollen head of his erection, they once more latch back onto me and doesn’t that make my cock very fucking happy indeed.

  If he wants to think of me despite having a smoking hot woman milking him with her mouth, then I’ll willingly give him a show. One he will think about for a long time to come.

  I step forward until my shins press up against the edge of the bed. If I wanted to, I could reach out and caress Céline’s body and maybe I will, once I ease the throbbing in my shaft that is relentlessly pounding at the zipper of my jeans, demanding to be set free.

  With sure, steady fingers I pop open the top button of my jeans and drag down the zip so it opens tooth by tooth. Each millimetre the denim loosens is excruciating, but the ache in my throbbing cock is worth it to watch Flynn’s desperate gaze as he tracks the movement with hungry eyes. Knowing he can’t look away only heightens my need, and my cock makes its presence known as soon as the zip ends by forcing its way through the opening. Yeah, I often go commando. I’ve never liked the restriction of underwear, plus, at times like this, it’s extremely convenient. As soon as the flushed head of my swollen
cock pokes it way out of the fabric, pointing out the direction it’s begging to go, Flynn’s eyes flare wide with arousal. He fucking likes what he sees and damn if that doesn’t make my eager shaft grow another inch under his perusal.

  Céline must do something wicked to him with her mouth because just as I’m about to push the denim off my hips, his entire lower body thrusts upwards from the bed, gagging Céline on his cock in the process.

  This is obviously not her first rodeo, and she takes the violent assault on the back of her throat like a champ, gagging just once before shifting her position, relaxing her jaw, and opening her throat to suck him to the very back. The erotic onslaught of Céline’s talented mouth is his undoing. I watch as he desperately tries to maintain his gaze on me, but when Céline’s throat closes around his length, and she has him swallowed down from root to tip, he cannot stop his eyes from closing tightly or his head from throwing back. He growls out his release and spills every last drop into her eager mouth.

  His whole body tightens as wave after wave of ecstasy rolls over him, his hips frantically shaking with the power of his orgasm, and Céline never once stops her ministrations, her desire evident as she practically purrs around his pulsing shaft.

  I want to join her, want to bring him down from his rapturous high and clean him off with my lips and tongue. I want to take his softening length and languidly lick and nip and suck until he is once again hard. Hard and needy and only for me.

  My knee hits the mattress just as clarity washes over Flynn.

  I can see it clearly in the way his body freezes before going rigid. He squirms out from under Céline, his eyes never again finding mine and the atmosphere in the room changes from hot, heavy and laced with lust, to frigid, awkward and so cold I have to fight back a shiver, between one blink and the next.

  No, no, no, no.

  He doesn’t get to do this again. He doesn’t get to use any part of me to get off and then do a fucking runner with disgust in his eyes and cruel words on his lips.