by Sam Mariano
COMING HOME
Deleted Scene One
This is more smutty goodness! In the vein of Sexy Scrabble Parties. If you panic, just keep reading. Basically nothing I write in this series can be taken at “I read part of this” value.
Naughty Gremlins
Mia
“Take a shot.”
Adrian groans, his head falling back against the soft surface of the black leather couch. “No more.”
“Rules are rules,” Mateo states, shaking his head and smiling.
We’re supposed to be watching Gremlins, but at this point I think Mateo is more entertained by his increasingly wasted best friend than the movie. They started a drinking game before the movie, but this was after having their usual drink before dinner, then another drink after dinner while they were talking business. Mateo has a higher tolerance than Adrian to begin with, but I think he’s cheating. Adrian is super drunk and Mateo is barely buzzed, but they’ve supposedly been drinking the same amount.
Adrian has stopped keeping track. In the beginning he made sure his mischievous boss was matching him shot for shot, but by this point he doesn’t even look Mateo’s way.
“Is this movie over yet? I’m going to die,” Adrian replies.
“Nah, you’ll just feel like shit tomorrow,” Mateo tells him. “Drink up.”
Heaving a sigh, Adrian leans forward and grabs his shot glass and the decanter off the ground. Apparently holding both things is too much work for him in this state, because he balances the shot glass on my thigh and tells me, “Hold this.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, my fingers curling around the glass and holding it in place while he uses both hands to hold the decanter. He manages to fill the glass, but some of the liquor sloshes over the edge and soaks my dress.
“Aw, shit. Sorry, Mia.”
It’s obviously not a big deal, but I still lightly shove him in the arm and tell him, “Good job, Adrian.”
Mateo puts his shot glass back on the ground—I guess he did take his shot, too—and leans heavily against the couch. “What’d he do?”
Adrian answers before I can. “Got whiskey on your wife’s pretty dress.”
“Good job,” Mateo answers.
“Yeah. Oh well,” Adrian adds, decisively, before tipping back the shot and emptying it in his mouth. Leaning forward to put it back on the ground, he says, “Guess she’ll just have to take it off.”
My jaw drops and I cut Mateo a look of stunned amusement. “Oh, my god. He is so drunk.”
“He’s got a point, though,” Mateo replies, his warm gaze raking over my body. “Can’t very well sit here in a wet dress, now can you?”
I shake my head, turning my attention back to the television. “Wow, you are both hammered.
“I’m not hammered, I just like when you’re naked,” Mateo states.
I jump at the weight of Adrian’s hand, suddenly on my thigh. He’s just feeling the spot on my dress that he got wet, but my gaze snaps to his face, then his hand. My heart beats harder, unsure how to process the behavior of these two men that I love.
Adrian’s hooded brown eyes meet mine. “It’s wet, all right.”
“You heard the man,” Mateo pipes in. “Take off your dress, Mia.”
I don’t know what to do. I break Adrian’s gaze to look at my husband. “Are you serious?”
“It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before,” Mateo tells me, lightly amused by my reluctance. “We’ve fucked in the backseat of the car. He has a rearview mirror.”
To this, Adrian objects. “Hey, no, fuck that. I have always been a gentleman. There was nothing I could do about hearing you two fuck, but I never looked. I’ve been tempted, but I haven’t done it. Unlike some assholes on this couch, I’ve always tried to respect Mia’s privacy.”
Without much thought, I give his thigh a little pat. “I appreciate that, Adrian.”
Adrian’s gaze falls to my hand on his thigh. I should move it, but I don’t. I tell myself it’s not doing anything wrong—nothing he didn’t do just a moment earlier—but my shit-stirring husband robs the moment of any claim to innocence, asking, “What color panties are you wearing, sweetheart?”
“I’m not wearing panties,” I murmur back.
Of course Mateo knew that.
Of course Adrian’s mind follows the trail Mateo leads it down
His gaze moves from my hand on his thigh to my legs, trailing up. His eyes drag the material up my thighs, revealing my bare pussy to his hungry gaze. Then his hands follow. That surprises the hell out of me, but I’m helpless to resist when those strong, capable hands—generally used in violence to build and maintain my husband’s empire—yank the red cable-knit material up, bunching it around my thighs. I shift my weight, letting him pull it up around my waist. His eyes devour me and arousal stirs between my legs. My breath comes quicker and I steal a look over at my husband, uncertain whether or not he’s okay with this. For obvious reasons, it’s never come up. He knows I love Adrian, he knows Adrian would die to protect me, but this is uncharted territory.
Mateo gives me a brief nod of encouragement.
My heart does a freefall from my chest cavity, but then Adrian is tugging the dress off me and tossing it on the floor.
Now I’m naked, save for a black, lacey push-up bra.
Adrian’s left arm snakes around my bare waist and he pulls me to his side, dipping his head and brushing his lips against the swell of my cleavage. God, that feels so good.
I dart another uncertain glance at Mateo. Surely we should stop this. This is wrong on so many levels. In a less inebriated state, Adrian would never do this.
If I expect my husband to save us from sin, I’m looking for help in the wrong place. His gaze is dark, following Adrian’s lips as they trail along the lacy material. Adrian’s tongue darts out to cover my nipple through the material and I gasp.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, my fingers threading naturally through Adrian’s hair, keeping him close.
“Touch him,” Mateo directs.
I’m already getting lost in a sea of sensation, Adrian’s hot mouth making me forget where I am and why I shouldn’t be here. The hand not tangled in Adrian’s hair drifts down his back, then skates across his shoulders. I’ve always admired these beautiful, muscular shoulders. I want to tug his shirt off and leave kisses all over—the perfect, smooth side, and the scarred side.
“Not there,” Mateo says, lightly amused.
My heart beats in my throat, but I swallow it down and obey Mateo’s command. I let my hand drift between Adrian’s muscular thighs so I can rub him through the fabric of his pants.
“Take it out,” Adrian murmurs.
Desire curls through me. I unbutton his pants and reach inside, caressing his cock. Oh, god, I want it. I love the feel of him in my hand, the look of relief on his face as I close my fingers around him.
“Fuck, Mia.”
“You want me to suck your cock, Adrian?”
Instead of answering, he fists a hand in my hair and pulls my head down where he wants it. I push my ass back and bend my head, opening my mouth and taking the salty tip of Adrian’s cock between my lips. I run my tongue around the tip, delving into the opening, then I open wider and lower my head, taking his entire length into my mouth, inch by inch.
Adrian groans, letting me know I’m pleasing him. I’m hungry for his pleasure, my own arousal growing as I move my mouth over his cock, then I jolt as a firm hand runs over my ass. Long fingers move between my thighs, breach my slick entrance.
Mateo.
Oh, god. My eyes roll back and I moan around Adrian’s cock while Mateo’s thumb circles my clit.
Oh, fuck.
It’s hard to concentrate. One hand is curled around Adrian’s cock but my free one digs into his side. I’m so turned on it almost hurts, but I need more.
I want them both. I need to please them both.
I want to fuck them both.
Mateo strokes my pussy as the thought goes thro
ugh my mind and I cry out, the muffled sound vibrating around Adrian’s cock.
“Fuck,” Adrian groans, fisting his hand tighter in my hair. I move my mouth around him, caressing him with my tongue as I come up. Then I move my tongue and take him deep in my throat, shocks of pleasure coursing through me as he hisses with pleasure, as Mateo’s fingers push inside me at the same time. I’m so wet. He spreads my arousal, playing with my clit as I pleasure Adrian.
I need more.
I need someone to fuck me.
Popping off Adrian’s cock, I cry a little insensibly, “Please.”
I don’t have to specify what I need; Mateo already knows. He’s behind me on the couch and now he yanks me back against him, his deft fingers unhooking my bra while his lips find my neck.
“You like that, Mia?” he murmurs.
“Oh, god, yes,” I tell him, melting back against him.
“Adrian, touch my wife’s pussy.”
I could come right now, just hearing it. I don’t, but it’s harder to hold back when Adrian obeys without hesitation. His big, strong hand cups my pussy, then he slides his index finger inside me like it belongs there.
I’m breathless, needing more.
Mateo’s lips blaze a hot trail down the center of my back as Adrian continues to finger me. Oh, my god. Too many sensations coming from too many different places. I’m going to explode.
“Mia, do you want Adrian to fuck you?”
“Yes,” I cry, desperate for more.
“Is that how you ask?” he murmurs against my ear.
“Yes, please,” I amend, snaking against him as Adrian pushes his finger deep inside of me.
Mateo’s fingers skim my side, following a familiar path. He knows every inch of my body—owns every inch of my body. He knows just how to work me, just how to please me. His hand moves up my torso and he catches the weight of my breast in his palm, expertly teasing my nipple with the rough pad of his thumb. I lean my head back against his strong chest, then twist so he can lean down and claim my lips.
I gasp against Mateo’s lips as Adrian’s blunt finger rubs my clit. He teases it some more and I cry out against my husband’s mouth. “Please,” I murmur again, between kisses.
Mateo breaks away just long enough to issue a single order. “Make her come.”
I don’t have time to look at Adrian; Mateo’s mouth covers mine again, his hands cupping and playing with my breasts as Adrian explores my pussy. This is new territory for him. He doesn’t know my body the way Mateo does, isn’t familiar with every trick to wring the most pleasure out of me. It’s completely foreign, feeling Adrian push a second finger inside me.
It’s almost too much, being stimulated by both of these impressive men. Mateo already knows exactly how to touch me, so he plays me like an instrument. As Adrian stimulates my sensitive clit, Mateo squeezes my nipples and a spike of intense pleasure shoots through me.
“Oh, yes, please.”
Mateo knows what I respond to. He pinches, rolls, squeezes and flicks my nipples until I think I might die from the pleasure. This is fucking incredible. My body is loving every second, every caress, this delicious intimacy with both of them. As my husband obliterates my ability to think, Adrian’s very capable fingers find the spots that bring me the most pleasure. He’s a fast learner, that Adrian. My heart pounds in my chest as he caresses me, stokes the fire inside, threatening to burn me up.
Mateo’s lips drift away from my mouth, down the column of my neck. His voice is low and rough as he asks, “Do you want us to use your sweet little body, Mia?”
“Yes,” I plead, arching my body. “Please. Use me.”
Mateo’s words and Adrian’s fingers push me closer to the edge. My husband is so addictive; it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else when he’s playing with me.
I break away from Mateo, needing to get closer to Adrian. He catches me around the waist with his free arm, smiling tenderly as he tugs me close. He keeps thrusting his fingers inside me but now he pulls me into his lap. I brace my hands on his strong, sexy shoulders. God, I love his shoulders. It makes my heart pound to meet his gaze, but I do. Part of me wants to kiss him, but somehow that feels more intimate than what we’re doing now, across some line we haven’t stepped over yet.
His eyes lock on mine, the same thoughts and feelings reflected back. Somehow him holding my naked body against him, playing with my pussy… this doesn’t feel too far, but some instinct we both possess tells us to maintain some sort of boundary.
I can’t kiss him, but that only makes me want it more. I want to know what his lips feel like pressed against mine—soft and gentle, or fierce and demanding? I need to be closer regardless, so I lean in and rest my forehead against his. His pace slows for a moment. I’m fitted against his body, my arms wrapped around him as his fingers move inside me. There’s tenderness here, in this moment, neither of us expected.
Then Adrian’s free hand slides up my body and he gently cups my face. His hand slides around to the back of my head and then, with exquisite tenderness, he pulls me in for a kiss, consequences be damned.
An explosion of affection pours through me when our lips touch and my lips part, inviting him to deepen it. He doesn’t hesitate to accept.
It’s too much. His lips brushing mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his fingers moving inside me. It’s not what I’m used to, but the sweetness consumes me and I come, hard and fast, riding his hand, crying out against his mouth. I hold him tighter, like I need him. I do, in this moment. It’s not what I’m accustomed to, but I could get addicted to this.
My orgasm subsides, but I don’t want to move. I love that he’s still touching me. I love the lazy strokes of his tongue against mine, the calm pleasure pulsing through my body. I want to know more. I want to know the feeling of Adrian hard and aroused, pushing inside my body to take his pleasure. I want the tenderness; I want to give back what he gave me.
I break from his mouth and trail kisses along his jaw, in toward his ear so I can tell him, “I want you inside me.”
Anchoring a hand at the small of my back, he pushes his hips up so I can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me. “You want that?”
“So much,” I say, a bit breathlessly. I snake against it, longing for that hardness inside of me. “Please, Adrian.”
“This is a bad idea,” he states.
“I love bad ideas,” I tell him.
He laughs lightly, unable to argue that long-proven fact. “Yeah, you do, don’t you?”
I nod, bending to kiss my way up his neck. “They’re my favorite.”
Wherever this moment is heading, it gets abruptly cut off when my husband decides he’s been ignored long enough. He wraps my hair around his fist and hauls me off Adrian’s lap, dragging me back against the couch. My heart kicks up a few speeds, initially alarmed that he might be legitimately mad. I did just tell his best friend I wanted to fuck him, after all. I also kissed him, and I know Mateo is territorial about my kisses.
I probably shouldn’t have done that.
I don’t know the rules here.
I don’t know if there are rules here.
This is Adrian, after all. He dedicates his whole life to protecting us. Trust isn’t something Mateo hands out, but I know he trusts me and Adrian.
My gaze jumps to his for a read, to make sure I didn’t hurt his feelings or piss him off. When my gaze focuses on his, though, there’s no anger. There’s heat in his gaze, but it’s not anger—it’s sexual. It’s desire. He’s turned on.
Pleasure moves through me. I reach out to him and he leans down to kiss me. His kiss is harder than Adrian’s, more brutal. Adrian offers, Mateo takes. Exhilaration moves through me. His kiss takes me higher. Where Adrian is loving and protective, Mateo is dangerous and forceful. Adrian’s embrace offers love and comfort; Mateo’s offers boundless excitement.
When he breaks the kiss, Mateo’s gaze roves over my body while he addresses Adrian. “Do you enjoy playing
with my wife, Adrian?” When he hesitates to answer, Mateo glances his way. “It’s all right. She’s fun to play with.” He looks at me now, his gaze burning with intensity. “My favorite toy.”
Even recently sated, I throb with need.
“It’s nice of you to share,” Adrian remarks, getting up on his knees and planting himself between my legs.
“I’m a nice guy,” Mateo says, dryly, as he skims my arms with the tips of his fingers, then takes hold of them and pins them above my head. My heart skips a beat as one hand closes like a shackle around my wrists, leaving the other hand free to toy with me as he sees fit.
Adrian’s fingers slip each button through the holes of his dress shirt. I try to free my hands to touch him, but Mateo doesn’t let go. Between him and Adrian, I’m pinned down, completely at their mercy.
A lazy smile stretches across Adrian’s face as he looks down at me. A desperate, answering need coils through me. I tug at my arms again, but of course Mateo’s grip is firm. My pussy throbs at the denial. I writhe, needing one of them to touch me.
Adrian tugs his shirt off and tosses it on the floor, then comes down on top of me. When his mouth closes around my hardened nipple, I arch closer, moaning. I try to get my hands free again. I know it’s pointless, I know Mateo won’t let go, but I can’t help the urge to try.
“Nice try,” Mateo murmurs, before burying his face in my neck.
This is heaven. My hips rock forward against Adrian, my pussy demanding attention. His mouth moves to my other breast, lavishing the same attention there he showed the first. He plants one hand on my hip and lets the other drift down the curve of my abdomen. His hand drifts between my legs and he pushes two fingers inside of me. I moan, half frustrated, half with pleasure. It feels so good, but it’s not enough. I need his cock.
“We need to switch positions,” Mateo states, glancing at Adrian.
Adrian’s gaze flicks to Mateo’s, but he looks a bit reluctant. Switching positions puts Mateo between my legs, Mateo fucking me, and Adrian wants to do it himself. Regardless, this is ultimately his game, so we play by Mateo’s rules. Adrian’s hands skim my thighs one last time. I feel an uncharacteristic spike of regret, but then Mateo moves between my legs and it swiftly dissipates. I could never feel regret about my wonderful husband fucking me, even if I wanted to play with Adrian tonight.
