Caught in the Middle
Page 4
“Six in the evening. I should be in the hospital by five-thirty.”
Simon gave a cut nod.
“Can you be over here by one? That should give all of us enough time to catch some sleep and eat breakfast.”
I doubted that my night would be a restful one, but agreed.
At a pointed look from Simon, Jack got up, grinning like that cat who had just licked the cream. Or was about to. Fuck. If this was any indication of how my mind would handle things if this really was going down as my baser nature hoped, I was going to be in so much trouble.
“See you tomorrow at one, then, bright and horny.”
I was sorely tempted to throw one of the couch pillows at him to wipe that grin off his face, but I restrained myself to a pressed smile.
“Good night, Jack.”
Snorting, he turned around and slinked off in the direction of the back hallway. That left Simon and me alone, a weird kind of awkwardness coming up between us when neither of us said a word.
Getting up, I straightened my shirt, then did my best to stop my fingers from fidgeting again.
“Well, see you tomorrow then,” I offered.
He nodded and followed me to the door, where he stopped me from running off by leaning against the door frame in a way that made it impossible for me to side-step him unless I wanted to walk right into him.
“About that,” he started, then waited until I’d caught his gaze. “I understand what you mean that right now you don’t need anything in your life that throws you off track, but it doesn’t have to be like that. I know you think I’m some kind of egotistical, insensitive asshole sometimes, but I care about you, and I’d never do anything to hurt you in any way.”
I considered that for a moment, both amused by his rather accurate self-assessment and by the literal meaning of his words.
“Doesn’t that get kind of in the way of being a sadistic, egotistical asshole?”
His answering smile was a thing of true beauty, and not befitting the subject. I definitely dug the intense look in his eyes.
“I probably should have phrased that better, yeah,” he amended, his smile splitting into a grin. “Then let me try this again. If you’re into it, I have no qualms to spank and flog and cane that sass right out of you, but rest assured, I will take very good care of any physical discomfort I cause, and I will never hurt you emotionally in any way. Pain can be cathartic, particularly when everything else around is closing in on you. Even if your schedule is packed, it’s easy to find an hour to chase the endorphin rush when it helps you cope for days afterward.”
I could tell that he was speaking from personal experience, and that made it even more tempting.
“Just because something fascinates me doesn’t mean that I’m into it.”
Now condescension sneaked into his look, and we were back to familiar territory.
“I beg to differ. If it fascinates you, you should give it a try. The only uncertain variable is how much you’re actually into it, not whether you’re into it. Why not give it a try tomorrow? If I’m not terribly misjudging you, having sex with two guys at the same time is already a venture into new territory for you. Why not go the extra mile and add some spice to it?”
As if the fact that I was actually agreeing to this in the first place wasn’t enough to send my mind reeling, but in the best of ways.
“Define spice?”
He shrugged, leaning closer, turning an already intimate conversation into a living wet dream.
“Just some of the standard kink fare. A little role play, a little spanking, a little restriction, some rough fucking. The usual.”
“For you, maybe.”
His smile was answer enough.
“What about Jack?” I pointed out.
“Jack’s pretty much indifferent to most things as long as it involves sex. Don’t worry—nothing I’d do to a newbie will squick him out.”
Part of me wanted to balk at being referred to like that, but of course he was right. And, if I thought about it as objectively as I could—which wasn’t my strong suit right then—it made sense to just shut up and take his offer. Knowing Simon, there would come a time for talking, but still not really sober, and quite worked up as I was, that wasn’t right now.
“So just some entirely uncomplicated, no-strings-attached, slightly spiced-up sex, right? Count me in.”
“Perfect,” he replied, then stepped away after lingering just long enough that I started to wonder if he felt as reluctant about not getting right to it as I was.
“See you tomorrow at one.”
“Exactly.”
With that, he opened and held the door for me, but called after me before I’d made it down the few steps to the curb.
“Oh, and Erin? Don’t be late. You don’t want to start tomorrow off on a bad note.”
For a warning, that sounded tantalizingly good, but I inclined my head dutifully.
“I’ll be on time.”
And that was that, as they say.
Chapter 4
Less than eleven hours later, I found myself back on those very steps, just as excited but a lot hornier than before, and, if I was honest, a little intimidated, too. As much as I might have fantasized over the years, I couldn’t imagine doing something like this with anyone I didn’t trust explicitly, and the guys were right on top of that very short list. Part of me wanted to tell Simon right away that I had second thoughts and that maybe we should keep that extra spice out of what suddenly seemed like an already overwhelming situation, but my ego simply wouldn’t let me. I’d always been a believer in jumping right into the deep end, and it seemed that my mostly non-existent sex life was no exception to that.
For the first time ever, I hesitated at the door. I couldn’t count how many times I’d traversed this threshold—hundreds, maybe even thousands—and not always as clear-headed and sober as I was now. I’d slept surprisingly well last night, routine taking over, and consequently felt downright chipper today. Of course, that had nothing whatsoever to do with what I expected lurked beyond this door.
I was so full of shit today, it was bordering on ridiculous.
Taking a last deep breath, I squared my shoulders and reached for the door handle, but before my fingers could touch it, the door swung inward, revealing a deceptively nice smiling Simon. He looked almost exactly like yesterday, down to the mussed short hair, but his T-shirt today was black, while yesterday it had been navy—I thought. Quite frankly, I’d never given less shit about the color of clothing than right fucking now.
“See? I can be on time,” I offered instead of a greeting. When I’d checked it moments ago, the display of my phone had read 12:56.
“Good for you,” he replied, then stepped aside to let me in. I shucked the gym bag holding my change of clothing and emergency rations for my upcoming night shift by the cupboard and kicked my shoes off with deliberation. So what if my heart was suddenly galloping? That didn’t mean I had to show just how nervous I really was.
That plan got immediately thwarted when strong, warm arms suddenly appeared around me, pulling me hard against Simon’s chest, the shock making me elicit the most unbecoming squeal in my repertoire. It cut off when he clamped his hand over my mouth, his other arm tightening across my middle.
“It really is very considerate of you not to be late. I’m not sure you would have liked starting this off with punishment,” he whispered into my right ear, making the fine hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. “I should maybe warn you that I really do take this seriously. It should not come as a surprise to you, seeing as you often point out that I never half-ass anything, but I thought I’d be nice and give you a fair warning.”
He let that sink in before he went on.
“The rules are pretty simple. You have a safeword—‘red.’ You use it when something gets too much for you or when something unforeseeable happens, like cramps, some emotional turmoil, or shit like that. You should never hesitate to use your safeword, but I trust
that you won’t abuse it. When you use it, everything stops, and I’ll make sure that whatever is wrong gets straightened out. Then we decide if we want to go on or call it a day, no hard feelings either way. I can’t really do the fun stuff without knowing that you’re giving me vital feedback if I need it, and it’s a fail-safe for you to rest assured that, everything else aside, you’re the one in control and can get yourself out of everything at a moment’s notice. Nod if you understand.”
My heart was hammering so hard in my chest that I was sure that he must have felt it, but I didn’t hesitate a moment to agree.
“Good. For the duration of this scene, you will call me ‘Sir,’ and you will act respectful. I know that you’re a spunky spitfire sometimes, which is a trait I love and respect, and if you feel confident that you can take the brunt of the consequences, please do go ahead and mouth off to me. For today, though, you might consider moderating yourself a little. Don’t worry about being bored when I say that I will take it slow at first. As soon as I get the sense that you’re on board with something, I’ll push a little harder. Should there be a next time, we’ll have plenty of time to discuss what to do for that then, but today it’s all about you getting your feet wet, among other things.”
Despite the tension—or maybe because of it—that really bad pun made me laugh, the sound muffled by his hand.
“Anything else?” Simon mused, the fingers of his free hand drumming an all-too-familiar rhythm on my left hip. “Ah, right. We use condoms for everything that goes beyond oral sex, and on the cupboard over there are our STD tests. I know you regularly get checked, so I’m trusting you. Mine is from three days ago, and Jack’s from last week. He said he did have sex with one woman in between, but we both know her and know she’s a responsible adult, so I feel comfortable with considering that as a go. If you object, now’s the time.” With that, he uncovered my mouth.
That definition meant that Jack’s last had very likely been Kara. I didn’t know how I felt about that, but it wasn’t much of a surprise. Better than any of the bimbos from last night. I had thought about asking about test results, but then relied on Simon’s general penchant for being a stickler for details. It was very reassuring that he had everything covered.
“No objections.”
I wondered if I should have used that stupid appellation, but either he hadn’t expected me to, or let it slide.
“Good. You have sixty seconds to undress. We’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”
He then let go of me, and without another look back walked deeper into the house.
For a moment, I was simply stunned. So, this was it, whatever ‘it’ was going to turn into. I was so excited that even standing still was a feat. The hint of trepidation from before was gone, but now there was a lump in my stomach that made me rue eating anything for breakfast.
Then Simon’s last words finally sunk in, and I started to scramble out of my clothes. A minute could be over damn fast, and although I’d used the bathroom before leaving home, I felt the sudden if likely unnecessary need to urinate. Deciding that his warning was something I wanted to heed at least once, I forced myself to ignore my mind’s antics and raced down the hallway and into the living room before I could have any second thoughts.
I’d never felt so damn naked in my entire life.
Simon and Jack were waiting for me, both wearing identical, closed off expressions, standing around at ease as if nothing particularly out of the ordinary was about to happen. For them it maybe wasn’t, but my entire system was on high alert, and I had to close my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.
That’s when I realized that I didn’t really know what to do.
Being naked in front of two fully clothed men felt strange—exciting, yes, but still strange, which was something that I hadn’t expected. Sure, they’d seen me in a bathing suit many times in the past, but somehow this made all the difference. I felt vulnerable and exposed, and the irrational need to try to cover at least parts of my body rose in the back of my mind. I forced myself to stand up straight and do no such nonsense, but swallowing was suddenly a monumental task.
And then they were just staring at me, taking all of me in, while my pulse raced and my chest kept heaving with every shallow, fast breath.
Nervously, I licked my lips, then let my eyes drop to somewhere between the couch and Simon’s knees. I really didn’t know how he expected me to behave—he’d left that out of his instructions completely, and holding his gaze was hard. Then I felt stupid about that because I really didn’t want to appear like a demure, shy girl, and looked back up. They were still staring at me, but Jack was trying hard to hide a smile, which kind of helped ground me a little. Taking another, deeper breath, I forced myself to calm down, and this time when my eyes found Simon’s, I didn’t look away.
He took pity on me about ten endless seconds later, looking over to Jack while he jerked his chin in my direction.
“Hold her.”
Then he walked up to me, just as Jack circled around to my back, and before I had a chance to react, Jack had wrapped his fingers around my upper arms and held them steady. Simon made a grab for my left wrist and buckled a thickly padded, black leather cuff around it. Swallowing turned just a little harder still when he did the same to my other wrist, and without needing any further direction, Jack then pulled my arms behind my body and snapped the cuffs together. That position forced my shoulders back and my tits to stand out. My breath caught in my throat, but I forced myself to let it out as evenly as possible.
Simon gave me the barest hint of a smile before his features evened out again, and he reached up to thread his fingers through my hair at the back of my head. I’d left it loose for once, maybe out of some silly notion of trying to appear sexy or something, but instantly rued that decision when he yanked hard on it, forcing my head to the side. I winced but otherwise didn’t protest. My heart skipped a beat or two when he leaned in, almost close enough for my eyes to lose focus on his face.
“Are you going to be a good slut today?”
I’d kind of dreaded this part—fantasizing about name calling was one thing, but I normally didn’t let anyone use any kind of derogatory term when talking to me. Often, even “girl” drew my ire. With Simon and Jack, my expectation had been different, more in the direction of uncontrollable laughter.
Right then, laughing was the farthest thing from my mind, and there wasn’t even a hint of irritation in sight. In fact, him calling me a slut made me feel kind of sexually empowered, as if I’d suddenly morphed into a seductive vixen. If that worked, I might as well give the rest a shot, too.
“Yes, Sir,” I tried to offer confidently, but it came out more like a shaky breath.
Simon pursed his lips as if he had to consider believing me.
“We’ll see about that.”
Without further warning, he slapped my left thigh hard enough to sting, then the other when all I did was give an undignified yip.
“Spread your legs and keep them open until you’re told otherwise. Whenever you’re lazing around idly, you’re going to assume a position like this, knees apart, arms behind your back. Don’t make me tell you a second time.”
It irritated me a little that he seemed to expect me to guess ahead of his orders what to do, but when I widened my stance, he reached for my pussy, and any protest that had started to form dwindled rapidly. He didn’t tease or linger, but brought two of his fingers right to my clit, then eased them downward between my labia and thrust them into me. I made a face at the rather obvious wet sound he caused, but he looked more pleased than smug. As quick as he’d started the maneuver, he withdrew his fingers again, idly rubbing them clean on my naked hip. Even with the contact gone I could still feel the aftershocks of it, and it made me so damn horny that I was almost afraid I’d come right there if he did it again.
He didn’t, but instead turned around and walked over to the couch where several things lay on a blanket. I got distracted from tryin
g to make them out when hot, hungry lips appeared on my shoulder and started kissing up a warm trail to my neck right below my ear. My eyes fluttered shut for a moment and I leaned back into Jack, my fingers incidentally touching down on his crotch.
Oh, someone was happy to be here, and that wasn’t just me.
Jack chuckled softly, the proximity of his mouth to the sensitive spot on my neck making me shiver, but when I tried to withdraw my fingers, he bucked his hips forward to keep the contact up. Not that I could have done much to evade him, anyway, considering the cuffs and the way he was still holding me. Nor did I want to.
“You can touch me as much as you like. In fact, why don’t you open that zipper and reach into my jeans while you’re at it?”
I was a little surprised that he suggested rather than told me to, but I remembered Simon’s comments about Jack’s preferences all too well. For a moment I considered playing coy, but then his mouth went back to kissing and nibbling on my shoulder and neck, and any residual thoughts about propriety fled my mind.
The cuffs were comfortably restrictive but left my wrists enough room to rotate to facilitate the task, and once Jack felt that I was busy getting into his pants, he let go of my arms in favor of reaching around my body for my breasts. Hyper aware of everything as I already was, feeling his fingers stroke over my hard nipples before he closed them around my tits made me moan. Then the zipper gave and I felt warm, soft skin push against my hand, sending my pulse racing even more.
I would have been lying if I said that I didn’t have a vague idea of what Jack was packing. Even in college we’d spent many summers camping, surfing, or going for a swim, and I’d never been a modest wallflower who turned around just because someone was changing out of their swimming trunks. Guessing was one thing, but having the hard evidence, pardon the pun, in my hand was quite another. Part of me wanted to savor that moment for whatever insane reason, but that was a part that was very easily shut up and forgotten. He gave me a delicious little growl as I wrapped my fingers around his cock and started stroking him, as much as my current position would let me.