Delightful Temptation

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Delightful Temptation Page 9

by Scarlett Avery


  “If it’s any consolation, I don’t know how much of this blinding sun I can take. You do realize I’m forced to take two showers each and every day. Well, three if I hook up with a willing pussy,” I tease.

  “Funny.”

  “I thought so. I gather London is bright and sunny as usual. Are you spending much time working on your tan?” I mock.

  “Pardon me while I ignore you,” Ethan says. I can almost see him point his finger inside his mouth as if he’s puking his guts out.

  I chuckle. “Seriously, every time one of us has to travel abroad for business, I’m always reminded of how much time we spend together. We’re inseparable. We need to make new friends,” I joke.

  “I agree.” Ethan laughs. “I think it’s unrealistic for either of us to expect anything else considering we’ve known each other since we were three years old.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Ethan is one of the rare people on this planet I’d die for.

  “Our friendship runs deeper than many blood siblings I know.”

  It’s something I’ve observed as well. Our tight bond has been a blessing over the years and I believe it’s kept us grounded because no matter what, we’ve always had each other’s back. But there’s a flip side to everything. Most women we’ve dated find our unshakable friendship and our particular living arrangement intimidating. I guess that explains why our relationships are so short-lived.

  “All right, mate, enough of this sappy talk. We sound more like teenage girls than successful businessmen,” Ethan says before changing the subject. “Are you already sitting on the beach with your shades pulled over your nose, sipping on a stiff drink? I’m willing to bet my fortune that there’s not a cloud in the sky,” he teases.

  “First off, I’m not an alcoholic. I at least have the decency to wait until lunchtime to start drinking,” I say, feigning being insulted. “And just to be clear, I started my day with strong coffee and not whiskey,” I add. “Second off, you’ve always been the one to take calculated risks. There’s practically no chance whatsoever for you to lose that bet. It’s a little past nine o’clock in the morning, I’m standing in front of the very large window of my hotel room and it’s blue sky as far as the eye can see. There’s not a trace of a white cloud.” I know very well that I’m pouring salt on an open wound, but I can’t help it. I’m sure my answer irritates the heck out of him.

  “Wanker.” He chuckles.

  I let out a long, theatrical exhale. “I swear, at this rate, I’ll come back home with a serious tan. You won’t even recognize me.” I’m on a roll now.

  “Thanks so much for rubbing in the fact that you’re in paradise, while I’m stuck here in ever-grey London. This weather is dreadful,” Ethan complains.

  “That’s because you don’t have the cool career that affords you the luxury of traveling out here to oversee your clients’ skyrocketing careers. The best you can hope for is New York City. The temperatures there may soar, but the level of humidity will suffocate you,” I jest.

  We both laugh.

  “Seriously, are you just getting up?” he inquires.

  “I am. I don’t have to rush since my first meeting isn’t until twelve. I have plenty of time to ease into my day. I just really wanted to talk to you.”

  “Really? You missed me that much?” he mocks.

  “Oh, shut up, will you?”

  “Where did the love go, bro?” he asks innocently.

  “I’m going to ignore you and keep talking,” I reply. Ethan’s boisterous laugh rings on the other end. “As I was saying, with the eight-hour time difference and how busy our schedules are, we’ve been missing each other. I wasn’t sure if you were in a meeting or not, but I decided to take a chance. I’m glad I was able to catch you because text messages aren’t the same.”

  “You’re right. It’s good to hear your voice, Xander.”

  “The first time I called it got cut off only after a few—”

  “I heard my phone ring, but didn’t have time to pick up.”

  “Were you with a client?” I ask.

  “Well…” He hesitates. “I was dealing with a messy situation earlier.”

  “You’re having problems with one of the galleries?”

  “No. All my relationships with my vendors are solid. Thank God.”

  “If that’s not the case, it can only be one thing then. Someone you shagged came back begging for you to fuck her again?” I snicker.

  “That wouldn’t be a messy situation, it would simply be a question of coordinating our schedules.” He laughs aloud.

  “Good one,” I concede. “I’m fresh out of guesses, mate. What sort of drama did you avert before I called?”

  “Hold on for just one second.”

  “Okay.”

  “The coast is clear,” he announces. What? “I was looking around me to make sure no one is within earshot.”

  “That bad?” What is Ethan dealing with?

  “The last thing I want is to traumatize a small child with what I’m about to reveal.”

  “Now you have me worried,” I confess.

  “You’ll understand why I said that in a minute. It’s behind me now, but one of the curators I work with offered to suck my cock.”

  “And you said no for professional reasons or is it that she doesn’t turn you on?” I’m nearly on my back laughing.

  “I know in your business anything goes and sexual depravity is just a rite of passage.” He pauses for effect. As a matter of fact, he’s right. “This is different. I refused because it was a man.”

  “Again?” This time I can’t hold it back, I burst out in laughter.

  “I know.” He huffs.

  “How persistent was he?” I ask once I’ve regained my composure.

  Over the next few minutes, Ethan tells me everything—from Benjamin’s bold come-on, to his unwillingness to back off, to Ethan making it clear that he prefers pussy to cock.

  “I’m seriously thinking that I’m giving off a gay vibe or something. It’s been happening to me a lot since we left the public’s eye,” he laments.

  “Mate, there’s nothing remotely gay about you and you know it. I can be slightly domineering in the bedroom—okay, I demand total submission—but compared to you, I’m a kitten.” I know Ethan’s feral side first hand. “Not to mention that given the number of threesomes we’ve had, if we had wanted to experiment with guy-on-guy action, we would have done so a long time ago. Even when we both take a woman at the same time, we barely touch each other. There might be the inevitable friction in the heat of passion, but that’s as far as it goes. How many times have we been pissed drunk? I never woke up the next day with your lips wrapped around my cock and vice versa. I think it’s safe to say that neither of us swings that way.”

  “Exactly,” he exclaims. “I’ve seen you wank your cock more times than I can count while you watch me fuck a woman we share. If I had any inclination to get down on my knees and suck you off, I wouldn’t have asked for permission. And if I wanted your lips around my dick, I wouldn’t have to ask twice. That’s exactly why I don’t get it, Xander.” He exhales. He sounds quite frustrated.

  “Ethan, you strut with a don’t-fuck-with-me-attitude. Women drop their panties when you walk in a room. I’m sure it fuels a few fantasies among gay men. I don’t think these guys care if you’re gay or not. They just want to taste you.” I pause for a beat and suddenly I crack up.

  “What’s so funny?” Ethan asks.

  “I’m telling you, it’s the Black Anaconda effect.”

  “Not that again.” I’m sure he’s rolling his eyes in his phone. He always does when I bring that up.

  “No, seriously. I know you don’t want to believe me, but my theory is solid. These guys see a tall and buff black man and they automatically assume he’s very well hung.”

  “And they’re absolutely right.”

  Yes, they are.

  We both laugh.

  “So why are you surprised by my the
ory?” I don’t know why he keeps fighting me on this instead of owning it.

  “Listen, I’d have to be a liar not to admit that online porn has played a huge role in our sex education as teenage boys and young men. That said, I doubt anyone in their right mind would compare me to that porn star. Firstly, we look nothing alike. I’m far more handsome and I’m in tiptop shape—”

  “That you are,” I concede, grinning to myself.

  “Well, thank you, sir,” he jokes. “Secondly, our cocks might be as impressive, but I stand six-three to his five-seven. It’s like comparing apples to potatoes.”

  Ethan and I grew up playing football, like every other British kid. That means we spent a lot of time in the changing room after practice just goofing around. When you’re fourteen and your cock is much bigger than everyone else’s, you quickly chalk it up to hitting puberty before your mates. By sixteen you start thinking there’s something wrong with you because with each passing birthday your cock is growing into this massive thing. It’s not as if you can ask your religious dad about it. Having this conversation with your equally pious mum would be the epitome of awkwardness. Ethan’s God-fearing parents are of no use. There’s only one source that can provide a couple of curious teenagers with the answers they so desperately need—Google.

  That’s how Xander and I discovered while we were on tour in Dublin that although our very large cocks weren’t the norm, they were certainly coveted. The first time we watched a video of porn superstar Chance Steele, aka the Black Anaconda, we stopped stressing out and we started enjoying the ride.

  “That’s exactly why these men want you. You’re a way better version,” I add.

  “But you’re also black. You don’t get hit on nearly as often as I do,” he states.

  “I’m mixed. It’s not the same thing,” I correct him. “It doesn’t matter how big my cock is, I don’t have the whole straight-out-of-Africa appeal like you do.”

  Ethan roars. “You’re hilarious, mate.”

  “Face it, it’s the price you pay for being handsome and having a twelve-inch cock with a generous girth.” I might be making fun of him, but my cock is as big. His girth is a little more substantial than mine, but not by much.

  “I’ve never had any doubt about my sexuality. Give me a nice full ass, big heavy tits hanging down, large pink aureoles and wide hips and I’m in heaven. The only use I have for another man’s cock is to watch him fuck another woman while I’m in the room.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I chime in.

  “Speaking about women with generous curves, I’m surprised you even have time to talk. Have you already kicked the flavor of the day out the door?”

  “I resent how ungentlemanly you think I am. I’d certainly offer her at least a cup of strong tea before letting her go. If she made me come really hard, I’d even throw in a scone, some jam and clotted cream,” I quip.

  “Idiot.” He laughs.

  “No. I’m considerate,” I retort.

  “Right. From your last few messages, it seems you’ve banged half of LA.” He’s not far off. “I’m sure your sense of humor and your accent guaranteed you got plenty of action.”

  “Yes and yes. And for the record, I haven’t done anything you wouldn’t have done had you been in my place.” Ethan doesn’t fool me one bit. “It’s a little trickier to meet voluptuous women in my body-obsessed industry, but I was invited to a number of galas that allowed me to gorge on some pretty sexy women.” Ethan loves real women as much as I do.

  “Good for you. None of that size triple zero rubbish. I like meat on my bones. Anorexics, please refrain,” he mocks.

  “I couldn’t have said it better. What about you? Did you finally ask that American out for a drink? The one who works for Ashley. What’s her name again?” I snap my fingers together, hoping to jog my memory. “You know who I’m talking about.”

  “Delilah.”

  “That’s it. It’s such an original name you’d think I’d remember it, but then again I meet so many people every day.” I chuckle.

  “You’re right. Her name is as unique as she is.”

  “Is she single?” Why make your life a living hell by going after a woman who’s attached when there are so many single ones out there?

  “I believe she is.”

  It’s not like Ethan to be this vague.

  “But you’re not certain?”

  “I know she’s not seeing anyone here in London. I was trying to inquire about a potential boyfriend she might have left back in New York, but I never got a straight answer. I wasn’t going to leave that gallery without asking her out—because that would have confirmed things—but things didn’t quite turn out as expected.”

  “What happened?”

  Over the next few minutes Ethan gives the play-by-play of his morning at Harrow Sloane Arts.

  “It sounds to me like you’re losing your touch, my brother,” I sneer once he’s done.

  “Bugger off.” Now it’s Ethan’s turn to pretend to be offended.

  I laugh him off. “The only reason you’re telling me to bugger off is because I’m right. The Ethan I know doesn’t pussyfoot around a woman he wants.” That man is way too much of an alpha male to bother with such pretenses. He’s like a bulldozer when a woman catches his eye.

  “It’s a temporary setback,” he counterattacks. “I have to approach this with finesse. As much as I want to get to know Delilah more, I don’t want to jeopardize the relationship I have with the gallery. Ashley wouldn’t take it lightly if she knew how much I lust over one of her new recruits.” Good point. “It’s a fine balancing act, which is why I’m so eager to ask Delilah out. Once I get her on neutral territory, there’s no stopping me.” I have no doubt about it.

  “When do you see her next? Or are you going to need time to work on a plan of attack?” I mock.

  “I’m off for Monaco tomorrow so I won’t see her for the rest of the week. After my meeting with this client I’m flying down to see, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of new orders. I’ll find a reason to go back to the gallery next week and I can assure you, nothing will prevent me from getting her phone number.” Ethan inhales a long breath and continues. “She’s gorgeous from head to toe. I’m completely mesmerized by her, Xander. I’ve been dropping hints here and there, but it’s impossible to put a woman like that into words.”

  “That’s something I never thought I’d hear you say. Since when can’t you describe a woman?”

  “The only reason you’re making fun of me is because you haven’t met the smoldering hot American,” he throws at me. “She has a savvy sense of fashion that highlights her best assets—I quite like that about her. I bet underneath her stylish clothing she’s hidden cock-hardening lingerie—saucy little underwear that’s delicate and lacy. She looks like the type. I’m sure black lace against her fair, almost luminous skin is arresting. Her blue eyes leave me weak in the knees and those pouty lips were made to be wrapped around my Black Anaconda.” Finally, Ethan finds the words. “One encounter and you’ll be as awestruck as I am.” It surely sounds like it.

  “The imagery is pure decadence. Intoxicating, even,” I marvel.

  “You have no idea, Xander. And I haven’t even talked about her womanly curves yet.”

  “You have my undivided attention, mate,” I say.

  “I love how she wears skirts more often than trousers. The grey one she had on today clung beautifully to her body. Her whole outfit looked like it jumped out of a fashion magazine. It was more on the casual side, but still very chic.”

  “Sounds like you’ve taken in every millimeter of this woman.”

  “I have. A few dozen times.” We both laugh. “You know how I have a thing for shoes?”

  I shake my head, laughing inwardly. Ethan and his fetish. “Indeed, I do,” I mock.

  “Today, she was sporting adorable flats, but I’ve walked behind her when she was wearing sexy-as-fuck high heels and let me tell you, it’s a magnificent sight.
Her hips sway in such a tempting way when she walks, regardless of her selection of footwear.” He pauses.

  “Are you still there or did I lose you?”

  “I was looking around me to make sure I’m not about to expose a young child to inappropriate words. Luckily, the park is still fairly deserted.”

  “I guess it’s the time of the day when Londoners are either rushing home or hanging out at a pub,” I observe.

  “Lucky for me because there’s nothing PG-rated about what I’m about to say.” Reassured, Ethan continues. “Every time I lay my eyes on her plump behind, all the blood from my brain rushes to my cock. Bloody hell, I could lose myself in her ass and never come out for air—”

  “It’s that glorious?” I interrupt.

  “More than words can say. Don’t get me started on her tits. Even under her stylish tops, it’s clear they’re a generous handful. In fact, I’m willing to predict she’d overflow in my large hands.”

  “Fuck,” I exhale. “Now you’re making me jealous. I wish I had laid eyes on her first,” I lament. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get that description out of my head all day.” In fact, I predict that a week from now, it will still be imprinted in my memory.

  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanked myself in the past few weeks dreaming of loosening that tight bun she wears all the time and running my hands through her brown hair. I’d give anything to fist a handful of her silky mane and tilt her head back, forcing her blue eyes to lock into mine, just before I slide my throbbing hungry cock into her mouth, demanding she sucks every last drop of me. With my moisture still glistening on her chin, I’d grab her in my arms, carry her to the bed and have a raunchy night of no-holds-barred, sweat-drenched, wake-the-neighbors and think-you’ve-seen-God shagging. I want this woman with every fiber of my being.” He pauses. “Damn it. I’m so fucking turned on again just telling you about her.”

  Ethan’s confession is downright dirty.

  “Fuck, mate. You’re giving me a major stiffy. My erection is so massive, I’m sure the people way out in Malibu can see it.”

  “They’d certainly get an eyeful,” he jokes.

 

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