“Sod off,” I quip. “Seriously, now, I have to meet this woman,” I growl. “You need to get your act together and ask her out.”
“Although she seems to love making a statement with her clothes, everything about her screams innocence. It’s an interesting dichotomy. If she weren’t so shy, I’d suggest we both go after her.”
“Really?” I grin from ear to ear. They thought of sharing a woman again hardens my already stiff cock. Although I’m wearing boxer briefs, my cock is sitting straight along my stomach with the tip peering out of the elastic. I’m that turned on by this conversation. Truth be told, I live for the chase, but a threesome with Ethan trumps pretty much any one of my sexual desires.
“Really. Today is the first day she looked at me straight in the eyes without averting her gaze.”
“So she’s into you?”
“As much as I’m into her. It became very clear today.”
“She sounds way too hot for you not to pursue this, mate. You just need to find a way to get her out of that damn gallery.”
“I know.”
“Well, with all this talk about luscious curves and sharing a woman, that’s all I can think about now. When are you coming back from your business trip in France?”
“I have a full day of meetings on Friday.” Ethan sighs. “Since I’m fairly certain I’ll be going out for dinner with some of my clients, I don’t want to cut the trip short. A lot of my most lucrative deals are made over a good meal and a great bottle of wine. That’s why I’ve booked a flight back to London on Saturday later afternoon. And you?”
“There’s too much going on for me as well. I had to push back my flight back to London to accommodate everything. Instead of arriving Friday, I’ll also be flying in on Saturday. Any plans for that night?” I ask.
“Not as of yet.” I can hear him smile in the phone. “What did you have in mind, mate?” Isn’t it obvious? “I already know where this is going.”
“You do?” I pretend not to understand.
“I thought you were getting enough international pussy.” That’s unlikely to ever happen. You can never have too much of a good thing.
“A girl here and there… it’s not the same thing. Seducing a woman we both want and worshiping her body together for hours on end? That’s Nirvana. Nothing comes close.” I pause for a beat to allow the words to sink in. “When was the last time we did that?”
“Too long.” He exhales loudly.
Neither of us says anything for a few seconds. I suspect we’re both flashing back to Adele Bradford—the sensual woman we shared for six glorious months.
I’m the one to break the long silence. “I think we should take advantage of the fact we’ll both be in London at the same time,” I suggest.
“Are we ready, Xander?” You mean are you ready? The hesitation in his voice is unmistakable. Only Adele would do that to an alpha like Ethan.
“It’s already been a year and a half, mate.” He doesn’t say anything for a while. I’m guessing he’s pondering my answer. “Eighteen months is a long time, Ethan,” I stress.
“You’re right.” It took him longer than I expected, but he finally agrees. I guess it’s a good start.
“As long as we keep everything casual, we don’t have anything to worry about,” I add to ease his mind.
“I’ll be honest, I’d much rather lose myself between Delilah’s shapely legs, but if I have to wait, a no-strings-attached ménage with my best friend is as good as it gets.”
“Now you’re talking,” I cheer.
CHAPTER 6
Delilah
I am so grateful the last few days weren’t too hectic. Thank God. It made the rest of the week more manageable. On Thursday and Friday, a lot of the curators were in negotiation mode, so my involvement was minimal. We still had our regular crowd of curious passersby walk in, but Gemma and Ashley had me on admin duty. It’s a lot of mindless and repetitive work. I had to make sure all of the artwork we have is well catalogued and our list of buyers is up to date. It’s basically me staring at a bunch of databases all day, sending emails or making calls. All things I can handle on autopilot.
I doubt I would’ve been able to deal with anything more demanding when Ethan has been clouding my head like he has. I’ve relived every scene from Wednesday over and over again. I guess you can say I’m totally consumed by him. You wouldn’t be far off. I think Gemma’s revelation gave me carte blanche to be honest about how much I’m attracted to this near stranger. I know it’s totally crazy, but I had my fingers crossed all day yesterday hoping that he’d drop by. Every time the doorbell rang, my eyes shot up to the door with bated breath, expecting to see the tall black god strut my way, flashing me his signature smile.
Alas, it wasn’t in the cards for me. I’ll admit, I was a bit bummed out—okay, I was crushed—but I’ll survive. In any case, I’m sure I’ll see him next week. I really hope I will. I’m still lost in my thoughts and it takes me a few seconds before I realize my phone is ringing.
“Oh, shit,” I growl. I’m so distracted by this guy, it’s like I’m on another planet. I drop my makeup brush on the counter and race from the bathroom to the kitchen. I pick up immediately when I recognize Piper’s number. “God, please don’t tell me you’re already ready? I’m still prancing around in my underwear putting the finishing touches on my make-up. Thank God my roommate isn’t here to see me in all my glory like this,” I continue without giving her a chance to answer my first question.
“No, not yet,” she says.
“I’m glad to hear that. I need a little more time. You told me to bring it on, so I am. I’m painstakingly paying attention to every detail from my new fabulous new hair all the way down to my shoes. I’m wearing super-high heels tonight. I even had time to run into a nail shop for a quick mani-pedi.” I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really looking forward to going to Hush after all. “Are you calling me for fashion advice?” I giggle. I’m so excited I haven’t even taken a breath.
“I won’t need a fashion intervention.” She lets out a giggle, but it’s devoid of joy or cockiness. There’s something abnormally subdued about her voice.
“Is everything okay, Piper?”
She lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t think I can make it.”
What? “How come?”
“Dermott and I just had a monumental fight. I mean the worst ever since we’ve been together.”
Oh, no. “I’m so sorry, Piper. I’m sure things will settle down.” I do my best to be supportive.
“He walked out on me, Delilah.” Shit. Okay, this is worse than I thought.
“He did?”
“Yeah. We had a big blowup. He said things. I said things. You know how it goes when two people are at each other’s throat.”
I tend to avoid confrontation. “Yes, of course, but it doesn’t mean you can’t work it out.” I’ve seen these two together. They love each other like crazy.
“I don’t know about that.” She doesn’t sound very confident.
“I’m so sorry, Piper.” I know I’m repeating myself. I’m just not sure what more to say. She’s clearly devastated, with good reason.
“It’s not your fault. My best friend is on her way over to hang out with me. It’s a code word for comforting me while I cry my eyes out. I can’t fathom being seen in public right now. I’ve already been bawling for the last half hour.” Jesus. “Sharon is bringing copious amounts of booze and we’re going to order greasy pizza. I’ll be so stuffed and so drunk I won’t have any brain cells left to think about how much of a fiasco this relationship turned out to be.” She sighs.
“Is there anything I can do?” I offer.
“You’re a sweetheart, but no.”
“What was the fight about?” I ask tentatively.
“It’s so futile, it’s not worth mentioning again.” Clearly that question upsets her, so I don’t push. “It’s one of those stupid arguments where you’re like, ‘What the fuck just happened?’
I’ve been racking my brain since he stormed out of here. I just don’t get it. Maybe Dermott is trying to find a way out. Maybe he doesn’t have the balls to just come out and say it.” She sighs again. I hope this is a big misunderstanding and somehow they’ll find a way to work it out. “Let’s not keep talking about it.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“On another note, I got the photo you sent after Gideon’s hair makeover. Wow, wow and wow.” I can tell she’s making an effort to sound cheery, but it’s still coated with so much sadness.
“Thanks.” Given the circumstances, I try hard to hide my giddiness. I have to admit I love my new look.
“I have a sneaky feeling you’ll break hearts tonight. Watch out, London. Here comes the Southern Belle.”
Huh? “I’m not going anywhere anymore. Other than the delivery guy who’ll bring me the takeaway meal I’ll be ordering later, no one else will get to see my hair until I go buy my groceries tomorrow afternoon. Even my roommate isn’t here. She’s spending the weekend at her boyfriend’s.” I chuckle.
“No, no, no, Delilah. This is precisely why I called instead of sending you a text message. You shouldn’t stay home. It would be a crime,” she declares.
What is she talking about? “Piper, I’m not going out to a bar on my own,” I protest.
“You look incredible. You have to allow others—and by that I mean men—to appreciate your beauty.” Her words take me aback. “Hush isn’t just a bar. It’s a lounge.” She says that like it makes much of a difference. Even in her moment of sorrow, she’s still as chichi as ever.
“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-to. It’s the same to me, Piper. Bottom line is, I’m not walking into a bar-slash-lounge alone. That’s just never going to happen.” Seriously. I haven’t lost my marbles.
“Why not?” she challenges.
I could list a million reasons, but I keep it simple. “One, I’m a foreigner. Two, I’m a woman. Three, I’d have to be high like a kite to ever attempt anything that ridiculous.” My heart is palpitating at the thought.
Piper comes back with a feisty repartee. “One, it’s not like you’re in a tiny remote Russian village where no one speaks English. Two, women in London do it all the time. Not to mention Hush is located in one of the poshest neighborhoods in the city. Three, living on the edge when you’re in complete control of all of your senses is the only way to go. You’ve already started your makeup. You’ve selected your wardrobe. You know which killer shoes you’re going to wear. You’re all set.” The way she says that, it sounds all so simple. “Do something you’ve never done before. It won’t kill you.” I beg to differ. “Take a taxi, go sit at the bar, have a drink or two, strike up a conversation with a stranger and then call it a night. You don’t have to stay for a long time and you don’t have to go home with anyone at the end of the night if the chemistry isn’t there.” That last one is so never going to happen.
“I don’t know, Pip—”
“You must go, Delilah.” Her statement is so forceful. “I know I’m being pushy, but woman, you’re smoking hot and I have no doubt once you’re all done up, you’ll look even more incredible.” Her tone softens. Well, if you put it like that. “I know one of the bartenders working tonight,” she says. “We go way back. I already texted him earlier this week to let him know I was coming tonight. I wanted to see if he’d be working. As luck would have it, he is. His name is Jeremy Spiviac. I’ll send him a text message and ask him to watch over you—that way you won’t feel like a fish out of water.” You want to bet? “You can’t miss him. He’s this tall blond with piercing blue eyes—like yours.” I remain silent. I guess she takes it as a sign of my acceptance. “Delilah, I think it would be a liberating experience for you to go out on your own like a big girl. In fact, something tells me if you’re up for the challenge, you’ll thank me on Monday morning.” My mind is churning at warp speed, desperate to find ammunition to shoot holes in Piper’s reasoning. Nothing comes up. “Listen, just go for one hour. If you hate it, at least you’ll be able to cross that experience off your list.” She’s really pushing this hard.
After a few minutes of hesitation, I speak. “Well, it would be fun to show off my new hair.”
“Exactly. Nothing boosts a girl’s ego and confidence like a guy gushing all over her. That feeling will carry you through the week. It might not be as mind-blowing as giving your fanny a good old-fashioned workout—”
“Piper,” I exclaim, horrified.
“Okay, I’ll be good. Just go out and show off your sexy self. That’s all I ask for tonight.” Her tone is so cajoling.
“Okay, you win. I’ll go. I doubt I can manage a whole evening out by myself, but I can wrap my head around enjoying a few drinks and a bit of conversation with this Jeremy guy.”
CHAPTER 7
Xander
It’s good to be back home, I tell myself as I get out of the taxi and step onto the pavement. Between the lack of sleep and my desire to party my head off, it’s unthinkable for me to drive my car tonight. As I scan my surroundings with a huge smile plastered on my face, I’m happy I made that wise decision. The affluent neighborhood is buzzing with activity. Smartly dressed men and women are making their ways to the restaurants and lounges lining the street. I have a feeling it’s going to be an amazing night. I can’t wait for Ethan to get here.
It’s eight o’clock at night now and it’s hard to believe I was still in LA a few hours ago. I waddled on the plane exhausted ten and a half hours ago still in party mode. Heck, I was still half drunk. It’s been one industry party after the other. Thursday night was the pinnacle. I had three parties in one night—the last being a huge bash at my friend Craig Taggart’s Malibu mansion. Craig is one of the biggest execs in the business. He also happens to be one of the youngest. He’s not even thirty yet and he’s made quite a name for himself. Ethan and I have known him since we were all teenagers. He and his mates were our American competition. Ethan took a different career path, but it’s surreal how Craig and I get to work and play together.
Craig surely knows how to throw a party. Everything is so plentiful—especially the hot women. I didn’t leave his place until nine the next day—there were a bunch of partygoers who were preparing a gargantuan breakfast on a Friday morning. Imagine that? I stayed because I was still having too much fun to bother with sleep. When everyone set off on their day, I went back to my hotel, showered, changed and dashed off to my last series of meetings. At seven o’clock last night, I left the City of Angels at the back of a chauffeured car and headed straight to LAX. Needless to say I slept all of the way back.
I landed in London at six. My chauffeur rushed me home by zooming through the afternoon traffic jam. Even on a Saturday, the roads are insupportable. When I get back to my place, I jump in the shower to wake up. Once I wash off the distinctive film and stench that are inevitable when you’re on a plane crossing half the planet, I prepare a strong double espresso to give myself a burst of energy. Two cups later, I’m human again. I don a new dark grey suit I bought last month and a crisp white custom-tailored shirt. No tie. Not tonight. It’s the only day of the week where I’ll break my rule—unless I’m going full-on casual. That’s a different story. I put on a pair of Foster & Son bespoke shoes and voilà. An hour after I walk through the doors, I’m out again. I didn’t even allow my ass to touch the sofa.
Ethan and I have big plans. I’d be crazy to let a little fatigue get the better of me—not when there’s the promise of a threesome.
Ethan texted me while I was up in the air to let me know he had to push back his flight. His wealthy client insisted on a yacht trip early this morning that had them sailing around the Mediterranean Sea since six o’clock. He was due to fly out of Nice at five. Since it’s only a two-hour trip, he should still make it back on time. “Hopefully he’s already landed,” I say aloud.
I’m still debating if I should go wait for him at the table we reserved at the restaurant or if I should head to the adjacent lounge area
for a drink. I look around, trying to decide, when a sexy blonde with short curly hair and plenty of curves trapped in a red fitted dress walks by me. Her ultra-low-cut V-neck hides very little. She’s headed straight to the lounge. And she’s walking in alone. That’s promising. My decision is made. Drinks first. Our reservations aren’t until nine anyways. This should give me plenty of time to get to know this buxom blonde a lot better. I pull out my phone from the inside pocket of the jacket to text my best friend to let him know I’m already here, but his name flashes across my screen. I pick up immediately.
“Xander,” he cheers.
“You’re back? How was Monaco?”
“Gloriously sunny, packed with indecently rich people and the streets are lined with a bevy of gorgeous women everywhere you turn. Basically it’s as decadent as always. All in all, it was fucking amazing.” Ethan never leaves an important detail out.
“That sounds eerily similar to my own business trip.”
We both laugh.
“Where are you? When the taxi dropped me off at my place a few minutes ago, I immediately popped by yours, but you were already gone. I thought you were going to wait for me.”
“I know. I was restless,” I say. “I decided to come and wait for you at the restaurant. I’m still outside. I might check out the lounge first.”
“Xander, you’re an hour early.” He chuckles.
“If I sit down, for even one minute, I’ll be out like a light and I won’t wake up until Sunday midday. We can’t have that.”
“No, we can’t. Please insert a heaping dose of sarcasm here.”
“Bugger off, Ethan,” I retort.
“I can’t wait to see you either, my brother.”
He’s making fun of me. I ignore him. “I’m so ready for tonight, mate.”
“So am I. My cock has been twitching since we talked a few days ago. It doesn’t matter how many times I wank, I’m still hard. Of course, I’ve been rubbing one off thinking of a certain curvy American, but at this point if my cock isn’t going to be inside her pussy tonight, we’d better find a luscious woman who will get both of us off like rockets.”
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