by Lily Harlem
I murmured something incoherent and was glad when he seemed content to just hold me.
* * *
Considering the middle-of-the-night events, I slept well. When I woke Gabe was wrapped around me. His legs had tangled with mine and his cheek was pressed against my shoulder. His soft breaths tickled my skin.
I remained motionless and looked around the room. It was dark but light creeping in from around the curtains told me the sun was crawling up the sky.
My mouth was dry so I shifted and reached for my water. As I lay back down, Gabe opened his eyes and smiled sleepily.
“Hey,” he said.
“Morning.”
He scooped me close then shifted suddenly and tucked me beneath his big body.
I raised my eyebrows and looked up at him. His stubble was thick and his eyes were lazy and dreamy.
He shifted his hips and forced my legs apart, settling between them with his morning hard-on pressing onto my pubic hair.
“It is a good morning,” I said, studying his lips—lips that had kissed Brent the night before.
“It’s always good when I wake up next to you.” He slipped his hand downward and tugged at my knickers.
I wriggled and assisted him with pulling them off.
“What time did you come to bed?” I asked.
“Late. You were asleep.”
“Mmm…” I sucked in a breath as the head of his cock slid through my outer folds and he searched for my entrance.
“Ah, you’re so damn warm and sexy,” he murmured, propping onto his elbows and hovering his face above mine.
“And you’re hard and sexy,” I said. Hell. It had been sexy to see him with Brent the night before. I thought about it now and felt a flush of arousal between my legs. Gabe’s jaw, the way it had moved, that flash of tongue, the tiniest bit of saliva.
Would Brent think it sexy to see us like this? Fucking, in his house, under his roof? Would it turn him on?
Gabe stared down at me, unblinking, and eased into my pussy.
He filled me so absolutely, and as he hit full depth a moan of appreciation rumbled up from my chest and I shut my eyes.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “Hales, look at me, please.”
I did as he’d asked and stared up at him. I slipped my hands over his warm skin and rested them on his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes. I just need…” He frowned.
“What?”
He pulled out a little and rocked back in. His pubis caught my clit and I struggled to maintain eye contact.
“I just need you,” he said. “I need you to know…how much I love you.”
“I do know.” I brushed my hand over his hair. “I do know.”
God, was he going to tell me he’d kissed Brent while he was buried in me?
“Hales,” he said. “You’re so perfect for me.”
He picked up the speed; it wasn’t a fast, crazy fuck, but now it had really got all my erogenous zones homing in on the sensations he was giving me.
We could talk later.
Right now I needed to take what was mine.
Gabe.
His chest hair scratched my chest, his cock rubbed my G-spot and he rocked harder, faster against my clit.
After a few minutes I was panting and sweat was popping all over my body. I curled my toes and clenched my fists. My pussy had clasped his cock and I was jutting my hips upward to meet his thrusts.
“I’m coming,” I gasped.
“Me too,” he said. “Keep looking at me, as you come.”
Supporting his weight on his elbows, he pressed his palms to my cheeks.
He was all I could see. His face filled my vision.
I stared up at him, gulped in a breath and let the heavenly explosive feelings in my pelvis build and build then overspill.
I gasped, shoved my head back into the pillow and came as I looked into his eyes.
His cock surged within me and he came too—three deep thrusts—jettisoning his release high into my pussy.
I clung to him with all of my limbs. We were so close, so in tune.
I could see into his soul the way he could see into mine.
Him kissing Brent wouldn’t come between us. I’d make sure of it. If anything, if I played my cards right, it could bring us closer.
* * * *
We showered separately, dressed then went downstairs.
Brent was sitting on the patio in the sunshine sipping coffee. He wore dark denim jeans and a white polo shirt. Again, I was struck by how handsome he was. His features were angled, perfectly symmetrical and his lips were full and sensual.
“Good morning,” he said, folding his newspaper and standing. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Tea please,” I said, slipping my shades on. The sun was dazzling.
“Gabe?” Brent turned to Gabe, who was a little to my left.
“Coffee is perfect. Can I do something to help?”
“No, it’s done, please sit. I’ll bring it out.”
He smiled and walked past me and I got a fresh hit of his aftershave. It really was sumptuous, kind of tropical but also very expensive-smelling.
Gabe took one of the seats and looked out at the garden and the river beyond. “Another beautiful day in paradise,” he said.
“It certainly feels like a million miles away from Chelsea,” I said. “Almost as if anything could happen here and it wouldn’t matter to our lives back in London.”
He frowned and studied me. “What do you mean?”
I didn’t speak. I hadn’t planned on giving him an opening to tell me about kissing Brent, but it had just slipped out. It seemed my usual self-control had taken a bit of a nosedive lately with everything that was going on.
Shrugging, I said, “You know, it’s the kind of place all manner of fun could be had.”
“We’ve had some fun.” He paused, leaned closer. “In the shower yesterday and then before we even got out of bed this morning.”
“Yes, that was fun.”
“Here we go,” Brent said, walking out of the French doors carrying a tray laden with croissants and pastries.
I sat back and crossed my legs. “Mmm, this looks lovely.”
He set the tray down then poured my tea.
“Thank you,” I said as he sat next to me.
“You’re most welcome.” He grabbed a pastry. “What time do you folks have to head off?”
Gabe glanced at me. “I don’t think we have any great rush, do we?”
“No,” I said, adding a splash of milk to my tea. “Not really.”
“Oh, that’s good. I wondered if we might go for a stroll and then perhaps a swim after lunch.” Brent pointed to the pool on the opposite side of the garden to the tennis court.
I reached for a croissant. “A swim?” I repeated. “I didn’t bring my costume.”
Brent frowned. “Mmm, I wonder if I have some spare.”
“No, it’s okay.” A sudden idea came to me. “How about I skip the walk and nip into Henley and buy one? I’d love to have a wander around the shops there. They look adorable.”
“Are you sure?” Gabe asked. “I’ll come with you if you want.”
“No, seriously. You’ll only be bored. If you drop me off then go with Brent and I’ll get a cab back when I’m done, before lunch.”
“If you’re sure,” Gabe said.
“Yes. I’m sure.” I bit into my croissant and looked between the two men. Both devastatingly gorgeous, elegant and seriously hot, and after what I’d witnessed last night, both into each other.
So why was I leaving them alone?
I swallowed and opened a small jar of jam.
Because I trusted Brent. He’d told Gabe to come to me last night.
I also trusted Gabe, I trusted his love for me.
I was sure it would all be okay.
* * * *
Henley was the perfect English town to spend a Sunday morning ambling around
. A few shops were shut, the butcher and the hardware store, but the small Tudor-style shops, with lead-paned windows and bursting hanging baskets by the doorways were open for business.
I found a bikini—navy blue with white polka dots—and bought it without trying it on. I then found a scarf with little rowing boats printed on it and picked it up to go with my sister’s birthday present. It would easily squeeze into the leather bag I’d bought her to send to New York.
A curiosity shop caught my attention and I wandered into the cool interior. There was a tall grandfather clock made of beautiful polished wood and an art deco style cabinet.
Wandering deeper, I found myself in a small courtyard. There were more interesting artifacts here, all with handwritten price tags tied with string.
I admired a stone statue of a female figure holding a child then a bench that had intricate ironwork.
A sundial twinkled in a shaft of light. It was polished brass and the script on it was swirling and pretty. I checked the price and wondered if it would sit nice in our small courtyard garden.
I decided it would.
After paying for it and watching the young shopkeeper carefully bubblewrap it, I headed back onto the high street.
The sundial was heavy so I decided to go back to Hardon Manor. Luckily a lone taxi sat in a layby outside the town hall and I hopped in.
Within minutes I was alighting onto Brent’s gravel driveway. I paid the driver and as the car’s wheels crunched on the stones I set the sundial on the floor by Gabe’s car.
The front door to the house was unlocked so I let myself in and nipped into the guest room to change into my bikini. It fit perfectly. There was a small frill around the top of the knickers that fanned out. It was pretty, a bit vintage-looking, and I was pleased with it.
I ran my hands down over my breasts, checking the material’s support, and then over my flat stomach. It grumbled.
Yes, it was lunchtime.
Quickly, I grabbed a towel from the bathroom then made my way down the stairs.
Stepping out of the French doors, I heard shouts and splashing noises drifting toward me over the hot patio. I’d put on flip flops and they slapped gently on the soles of my feet as I went down the steps then over the lawn.
As I approached the pool I could see Gabe and Brent were playing some kind of game. It appeared riotous; they were yelling and laughing, scrabbling for a big black ball they kept hurling out of each other’s reach.
The way they were churning up the water made the pool look like it was boiling. White froth and waves sloshed against the sides and the slabs surrounding it were dark with puddles.
I ventured closer and set down my towel. They were so absorbed in the ludicrously loud game they hadn’t noticed my arrival. I studied Gabe’s face—he had a broad smile, his hair was slicked to his head and the sun glistened on his wet shoulders, which bunched and bulged as he scooped through the water and lunged for the ball.
Brent went for it at the same time, yelping, and his head then going under.
It seemed they both had hold of it and burst upward, tugging and yanking, laughing and sending water everywhere.
“Hey,” I said, walking to the edge and placing my hands on my hips. “Seems like you’re having fun.”
They both stopped instantly and stared up at me.
They brought to mind an image of a couple of naughty boys caught doing something they shouldn’t and I smiled. It was nice to see Gabe just being, playing, shirking the lawyer persona that caused him to be so serious and formal at work.
And Brent, I didn’t know him well but I knew he had a lot to deal with right now, so a laugh and mess around could only do him good.
“Hayley, you’re back,” Gabe said. “Did you get anything nice?”
“This.” I gestured down my body at the new bikini. “What do you think?”
“It suits you,” Brent said, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead. His gaze lingered on me and the right side of his mouth tipped into a smile. “Very much.”
“Thanks,” I said. Like the evening before, I enjoyed his approval, it warmed my belly and I flushed a little.
“Hey, are you ogling my wife?” Gabe said, his voice full of mock anger.
“Yeah, what you going to do about it, City Boy?” Brent said then laughed.
Gabe roared and threw himself at him. It was in fun and I could see them tussling and gripping each other.
I decided to join in and with one neat dive plunged into the water.
When I surfaced Gabe was right in front of me.
“Whoa, it’s cold,” I gasped.
He grabbed me and pulled me close. His hard wet body came into alignment with mine. “Nah, not once you move about.”
“Here, Hales,” Brent shouted.
I turned, surprised that he’d used the pet name that was reserved for Gabe.
“What?” I said.
“Catch.”
He flung the ball at me.
I caught it easily and slipped from Gabe. “What are the rules?” I called, wading away as fast as I could.
“Whoever has it is the winner,” Gabe said.
“I have it.” I held it aloft and grinned. “Winner.”
“Not for long.” Brent jettisoned himself through the water at me.
I squealed and headed in the opposite direction. I didn’t make it far and he wrapped his arm around my waist and grabbed the ball.
But I’d lodged it against my chest and he couldn’t get it free, or at least he pretended he couldn’t.
Gabe came up behind me, slipped his hands onto my buttocks and squeezed. “Give it up,” he said into my ear.
“No.” I giggled and gripped the ball tighter.
Brent was right in front of me, smiling, water sparkling on his face and in his hair. His broad chest was butting my forearms as he went for the ball.
Gabe was tucked behind me, his groin now against my ass as he too tugged at the ball.
I laughed, tipped my head back and looked at the blue sky. “No, no, leave me alone.”
“You don’t mean that,” Brent said, also laughing.
“I do, I do…ah…” I squirmed and twisted and released the ball.
Gabe was tickling the side of my ribs. He knew that was my weak spot.
“Hey, no fair, Gabriel Stone.”
“All is fair in love and water ball,” Brent said, grabbing the ball from me and backing off. He turned and dived beneath the surface.
“Ah, baby, you lost it,” Gabe said, kissing my cheek.
“Only because you don’t play fair.” I pretended to be huffy. And I was a little bit. I’d enjoyed being hemmed in by two hard, masculine bodies. There were worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than surrounded my muscle.
We played for a few more minutes, tussling and chasing and getting out of breath. I hadn’t seen Gabe so carefree or laugh so much in ages and I could see it was good for his soul to be here, with me and Brent.
Eventually I spied a jug of iced water on a table at the side of the pool and I hopped out, planning on sating my thirst.
“Good idea,” Brent said, following me up the steps. “Thirsty game, this.”
He slipped his feet into a pair of Havanas and came over to the table. The slabs were hot on my soles so I quickly poured a glass of water.
In my haste I jarred the table with my leg. A tall glass wobbled then tipped and tumbled to the floor.
It was like watching it in slow motion as it fragmented into hundreds of sparkling pieces around my bare feet.
“Oh, shit,” I said, my hand having barely reacted in an effort to catch it.
I couldn’t move an inch—shards of glass sat everywhere.
“Hayley,” Gabe called from the pool. “Stand still.”
Before I could reply I was in the air, pressed into Brent’s chest and cradled in his strong arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I rested my palms on his hot, wet shoulders. “Yes.” I studi
ed my feet. There was no evidence of blood. “I think so.”
He pulled me a little closer, the arm he had wrapped around the backs of my thighs tipping slightly so he could examine my feet. “Yeah, no harm done. Could have been nasty, though.”
“Yes.” I swallowed and looked up at him.
His gaze connected with mine. His face hovered so close, if I moved a few inches forward our mouths would touch.
What was he thinking? That he’d kissed my husband the night before?
Did he want to tell me, confess?
He licked his lips and his fingers moved, just lightly, over my skin. “Let’s get you away from this mess,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Chapter Ten
After cleaning up the glass and enjoying a ham salad lunch, Gabe and I stashed the sundial in the back of the car and stowed our overnight bags in the boot.
We wanted to get back to Chelsea before the traffic built up, which it often did on a Sunday evening on the M25.
“Thanks for a wonderful weekend,” I said, giving Brent a peck on the cheek.
“Thank you for coming. We must do it again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” I said, turning and climbing into the car. “Very much.”
Gabe walked up to Brent with his hand held out.
Brent took it and gave it a firm shake. “Thanks, mate, safe journey back.”
“Yep, and I’ll give you a call. About the meeting with Nadia’s lawyer.”
“That would be great. I’m back in London tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay. I’ll get on top of it when I get into the office in the morning.”
“Appreciate it.” Brent smiled and dropped his hand. For a moment it looked as though he might give Gabe a hug, but instead he stepped backward and folded his arms.
“Er, yeah, see you,” Gabe said, turning, his feet slipping a little on the gravel. He walked around the front of the car then sank into the driver seat.
With one last wave we were on our way.
“Such a big house to rattle around in alone,” I said, watching its reflection shrink in the wing mirror.
“Yes, it’s huge isn’t it? Although probably not if you grew up there.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s what you’re used to.”
