Encore: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Lane Hart

  “I took Clarke to get a massage today,” she says, her voice getting softer while her eyes stayed lowered to her fidgeting fingers in front of her. “We both got one together, and then after…”

  “Yeah?” I ask, when she pauses, stepping closer so that I can hear her soft voice better.

  “He picked up the massage where the masseuse left off…”

  “And,” I prompt, waving a hand for her to get to the good parts.

  “He used his fingers on me…”

  “To make you come,” I supply, causing her cheeks to turn bright red.

  “Yes.”

  “What else?” I ask, as my breathing accelerates, and my balls start to feel as heavy as bowling balls.

  “Then we had sex on the massage table.”

  Holy shit.

  “How, what position?” I ask, torn again on the need to know versus stabbing the pen in my hand through each of my ears.

  “I-I was bent over the end of the table,” she says, causing my cock to swell at the thought of her bent over with her ass in the air, ready and waiting. “And we…we had the kind of sex that doesn’t ever make babies.”

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter as I turn so that my hips are to the counter, needing something hard to press against the wood I’m starting to throw like a motherfucker. The woman isn’t just hot as hell, she’s actually kinky enough to let a man take her in every way possible. Clarke is one lucky son of a bitch, and I want to punch him in his satisfied dick.

  Clearing her throat like she’s embarrassed, Tessa says, “Now you know, so let me see the lyrics.”

  “Why him but not me?” I blurt out with my head still bowed, needing to know.

  Blowing out her breath so loudly I hear it, she tells me, “I dunno, Ford. Maybe because you propositioned me on the same night, hours after some girl gave you a blowjob in front of everyone. And I didn’t intend for this to happen with Clarke, it just…happened.”

  “Is it gonna happen again?” I ask through gritted teeth. When she doesn’t answer, I glance over and watch as she wets her lips, making me think she’s already considered it.

  “Maybe. I guess we’ll see,” she replies.

  “So why were you pissed when you came home?” I ask.

  “Oh, um, that was nothing,” she says, while tugging on the collar of her shirt.

  “Liar. Tell the truth, and I’ll show you the lyrics,” I bargain.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “I made an amendment.”

  She remains silent for so long, I’m certain she’s not going to answer. Then she tells me softly in a rush, “Because he said we were just fooling around, having fun or whatever, afterward. It was stupid of me to think sex could lead to more, but I’m a girl, and even though I know better, apparently we can’t help but have feelings get all twisted up in the act.”

  Ah, she was disappointed that my friend treated her like a piece of ass. That is fucked up, and I’ll have to talk to Clarke about that. Can’t he see that Tessa is more than that? I can, and I’m the biggest player on the planet.

  “Lately, I’ve, ah, been having shit get twisted up in my head too,” I admit to her, to hopefully make her feel better, and because it’s the truth. “You probably think I use them, but the groupies only want to be with me for bragging rights.”

  “But it’s not like you want more either, if you keep going through them like toilet paper after every concert.”

  Grinning, because I’m almost certain that the saying is Go through them like Kleenex, I tell her, “Who says I wouldn’t mind having one person I can count on to be waiting for me after every single concert? I’ve never had that, but I think it would be pretty cool, knowing that they are always there in the crowd for me.”

  “Wow, Ford Donohue, did you really just admit that?” Tessa asks with a grin.

  “I did. Don’t tell anyone that I’m apparently growing a pussy,” I mutter.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Tess replies. “And so are your lyrics. Hand them over.” She holds her palm out for my notepad, waiting. I’m surprised she isn’t tapping her foot as well.

  “Okay, but these are rough and right off the top of my head,” I warn her before I finally push aside my fear and give the pad to her.

  I watch her face the entire time as she reads, her eyes widening and cheeks flushing, obviously realizing that it’s about her.

  “That’s um, that’s…” she stammers and pauses as she hands the pad back, unable to meet my eyes.

  “About you?” I say for her. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Oh, my God, Ford,” she mutters. Her big golden-green eyes blink back the shimmer of tears, and then she shoots toward me without warning, wrapping her arms around my neck. When my head finally catches up with what’s going on, I put my arms around her waist to hug her back. “I don’t know what to say except thank you.” Pulling away, she says, “You don’t know how much this means to me. Even if you guys never record it, or no one else ever hears or sees the words, at least I was able to.”

  Great, now she’s made me feel uncomfortable and insecure. When was the last time I felt that way? Jesus, how does this woman manage to turn me inside out.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I pull out my phone and pull up the other notes I typed out in the app before handing it to her. They’re not nearly as intimate as the last ones felt. Or at least I didn’t think they were until Tessa’s face goes from pink to a deep crimson. Glancing over to see the upside-down words, I belatedly remember the harsher lyrics about fucking her. Or fucking the woman in the song, not that it was necessarily Tessa.

  Okay, who the hell am I kidding? They’re all about her.

  “These are…really great, Ford. I can’t wait to hear them.”

  “You really think so?” I ask as I take back my phone and read through them again. “These may be the start to choruses, but Clarke and I will have to do a lot of work to make them into full-blown songs.”

  “It’s an awesome start,” Tessa assures me, still sounding excited. “And that reminds me that I should probably go check in with my boss.”

  When she starts to walk away, I feel that ridiculous absence again, like when she left me on the roof. I tell myself it’s nothing, just being bored without anyone but her and Ben in the house to keep me company. Yet, I’ve never gotten so down when Ben walks away from our conversation.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tessa

  Oh. My. God. Did I just read Ford Donohue’s brand new songs that were written just for me? Okay, so he didn’t write them for me, but he admitted that the lyrics are about me. Wow. This day is like the ultimate fangirl’s dream come true.

  With my face so hot it’s about to go nuclear, I try to fan it with my hand as I head upstairs to the bedroom I’ve been staying in.

  Grabbing my phone, I hit my boss’s office number to call him, since he should still be there.

  “Black Hawk Records, Joseph Cole’s office,” Debbie answers.

  “Hi Debbie! Can I please speak to Mr. Cole? This is Tessa Graham, calling with an important update for him.”

  “Sure, just a second,” she replies sweetly, before putting me on hold so that I’m listening to elevator music. Why doesn’t a record label have any of its signed bands’ music playing for people on hold?

  “Talk fast,” Joseph says when he picks up the line.

  “Hi, I just wanted to let you know that Ford has already drafted three different songs, one heavy, one a power ballad, and another that’s pretty catchy.”

  “That’s great to hear, Tessa. Keep up the good work. It sounds like you’re really getting things done.”

  Oh, yeah, I’ve done Clarke and Davis…

  “Yes, sir,” I reply, and then the line goes silent, telling me that he’s already disconnected.

  While my phone is in my hands, I check my emails and see that I have a few text messages that I missed earlier today. I read the most recent one three times
before I finally know who it’s from. Honestly, since all of the words are written in shouty caps, I’m not sure why it took me so long.

  WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

  I should be offended by the text message, but I’m grinning instead, able to hear his gruff voice saying the words, wanting to sound tough even though he’s showing a vulnerable side. Not only did he cave and reach out to me, but the message behind the harsh words is clear—the grumpy grizzly bear misses me. I can imagine that it took a lot of his pride to even type that short sentence, so while I’m still upset about him bailing the last time we were together, I forgive him and don’t waste any more time replying to him. It’s not his fault that my feelings got hurt by thinking what we did together meant more than just a physical connection. When will I learn to just enjoy myself without getting twisted up in knots over sex?

  I type back to him:

  I’m free now. Do you want me to come over?

  I could’ve just said I’m on my way, but I would rather make him come out and say he wants me there instead.

  YES.

  His response is instantaneous, making my grin nearly split my face in half. I’m certain that a guy like Davis doesn’t like to ask for much in life. Before I give in that easily, I ask,

  Should I stop by the store to buy condoms on the way?

  His next response isn’t surprising at all.

  FUCK YES. HURRY UP.

  Anticipation zips through my lower belly, wondering what he’ll do to me when I walk through the door. If I had to guess, I’m pretty sure he’ll be waiting for me and attack without us even exchanging a word.

  I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself too, but then afterward, if he jumps up again, I’m gonna lay into him because that’s not how this is going to work. If the big man wants to fuck me, he’s gonna have to learn to cuddle a little bit too.

  A giggle nearly slips past my lips when I think of Davis and cuddling in the same sentence. I bet he’s never cuddled with a woman a day in his life. Which is incredibly sad if true. Guys need to be held once in a while too, and be doted on about how amazing a lover they were. If the man jumps up and leaves, he never gets that reassurance that he did well and should be proud of himself.

  It hits me when I’m thinking about showering that if I go to Davis tonight, I’ll have been with him and his friend in the same day, which is so incredibly slutty that I nearly send a message to Davis and cancel. But then I remember the disappointment that was on his face the other day and decide that feeling guilty about sleeping with multiple men in one day is better than hurting Davis.

  Besides, it’s not like Davis wants more from me than sex, and Clarke made it clear that we’re nothing but friends with benefits. That’s why, thirty minutes later, I’m in my car and on the way to the pharmacy before heading up to the cabin.

  I was right about Davis. He opens the door and throws me over his shoulder with my purse across my body and plastic store bag dangling from my hands before I can even say hello.

  “If I didn’t know better, I would think you missed me,” I tell his hard bottom that I’m left facing.

  A grunt is his response, which I take to mean he did.

  Davis doesn’t put me down until we’re in the bedroom. That’s where he gently lowers me to the mattress. Now upright, I finally spot several lit candles around the room, even though it’s not yet dark outside. He lit them to try and be romantic which is so freaking sweet. I debate mentioning it to him but figure a tough guy like Davis wouldn’t want me to bring up his unexpected gesture.

  The next few minutes are a blur of big, frantic hands undressing me and himself, then Davis stands at the foot of the bed looking down at me with his forehead creased like I’m a naked, complicated puzzle he can’t figure out.

  “What’s wrong, big man?” I ask, as I lie back on my elbows with my legs stretched out together in front of me. For whatever reason, the candles make me think that I made the right decision coming over to not only be with Davis, but spend some time with the lonely grizzly bear.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to fuck you without hurting you,” he grumbles. “Were you sore? You know, after last time?”

  “A little,” I admit. “But not enough to stay away.” He gives a single nod but doesn’t look happy about my answer.

  “How about we do it like before? Did you like me riding you?” I ask, as I go up on my knees to talk to him.

  “Fuck yes,” he mutters.

  “Then lie down, Davis. I’ll use my mouth to make sure your dick gets nice and wet to fit inside of me first.”

  The giant man groans before his knee comes up on the bed and then he flops onto his back with the heaviness of a redwood tree falling in the woods, nearly bouncing me off.

  “Now”—I straddle his waist and trail a fingernail down the center of his fuzzy chest and abs to his hard length—“I want you in my mouth, and I want you inside of me. But if your big, sexy ass jumps up right after we’re done to leave me again, like you’re dining and dashing, I’m gonna take these home with me.” I reach down to cup his balls, making Davis suck in a harsh breath when I roll them around gently. “What do you say?” I ask.

  “I won’t dine and dash,” he mumbles. “Now put your mouth on me.”

  “What’s the magic word?” I ask, while still playing with his manly marbles.

  “Please.”

  I scoot down his legs and lean my head forward, so that my hair is dragging over his pelvis and my eyes are locked on his, waiting…

  “Please, Tessa. Will you put your pretty little mouth on me?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answer with a grin before I finally concede to give him what he wants.

  …

  Davis

  Why did I even hesitate on trying to decide whether or not to send Tessa a message earlier today?

  Hell, after the way she sucked me and then rode me so damn good that I nearly blacked out, I wish I had sent her a message sooner.

  Or not let her leave at all the other day.

  I don’t know what happened in my head after we fucked. I worried that I was too rough with her, and then it felt so good to have her fingers caressing me afterward that I bolted instead of lying in bed with her and soaking up the happy post-blowout feelings.

  The fact is that the other day, I hadn’t even finished coming inside of Tessa when my head was already chanting, “More! You need more of this woman! Pin her down so she can’t ever leave you.”

  My thoughts were so fucking pathetic that I had to get some air to clear them before I gave in and tied Tessa to my bed to keep her here with me.

  When the same shit happens tonight after we finish fucking, I tell my head to shut the hell up and force my back to remain flat on the mattress, just like I promised Tessa I would.

  “You are allowed to move,” she teases, when I remain frozen underneath her with my arms thrown out to the sides in surrender. Tessa’s entire petite body is draped on top of me where she collapsed after she came on my cock the second time. “Want me to get off you?” she asks.

  “No,” I tell her.

  The truth is, if she wasn’t on me, I might be tempted to give in and flee, to avoid having to be here in bed with her when we’re not fucking. Am I supposed to talk? Hell, I don’t know what to do, so I just lie still and enjoy the warmth and softness of Tessa’s skin stuck to mine. Because we are stuck together, thanks to our sweat; hers from how rigorously she was riding me and mine from trying not to come before her the first time. It took all the willpower I possessed to not come before her the second time. The fact that I jerked off twice earlier today thinking about her probably helped increase my stamina.

  Would Tessa hate me if she knew I thought about her naked so much that I have to squeeze my dick in my hand and imagine it’s her mouth or pussy to give it some relief?

  I’ve tried thinking about another woman, any woman, a Playboy model from a magazine or an actress from a movie, but for the past few days, only Tessa’s face and body will do the tr
ick. It’s making me think I’ve lost my fucking mind and started having feelings for the woman who’s given me good head a few times. Not good head…amazing head. Her mouth is so incredible at taking my big dick that it should have songs written about it. Other women have tried giving me oral when I start out soft, but all of them gave up as soon as I got fully hard. Most even run away rather than fuck me, declaring my cock to be a pussy destroyer that they want no part of.

  It’s a miraculous feat that Tessa not only went down on me but let me put my cock inside of her pussy twice. And fuck, she’s so tight that my shaft is still lodged inside of her. Not that I mind the way her pussy continues to give my half-mast cock a snug little hug every few seconds.

  Crossing her arms on my chest and resting her chin on top, Tessa looks at me and asks, “Have you ever cuddled before?”

  “No.”

  “Aww, that’s so sad,” she says, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “Thanks for staying and cuddling with me.”

  “You didn’t really give me a choice,” I mutter.

  “If you wanted, you could easily toss me aside to get up,” she points out.

  “True,” I agree. “But I like being tucked away in your tight little pussy too much to do that yet.”

  “Hmm,” she says, wiggling her hips a little. “Are you still inside me? I had no idea.”

  I chuckle, knowing she’s being sarcastic, and the small bounce of my cock that accompanies the laugh makes her gasp sharply.

  “You remember where I am now?” I ask.

  “Oh yeah,” she agrees, her voice softer, almost panting.

  “We forgot to use one of those condoms you brought,” I remind her.

  “Next time,” she agrees when she sits up and plants her palms flat on my chest so that she can lift her hips and ride me again. “God.” She moans, as her beautiful, long eyelashes flutter. “You’re so big and thick, I think I could come like this with you soft.” Her hips rise and slam down on me again, making me groan.