As we approached the door to my condo, I turned to him. “Now, I’m really leaving you alone with your stupid and silly ideas.” I would continue to defend myself against these thoughts that left me breaking eye contact with him. When I twisted my body slightly to open the door that led to my loft and kissed him on the cheek, I sprinted up the stairs to get my Kindle and vibrator ready. Andrew had made matters so much worse, and my insides ached with need.
I found the first free Kindle book that was man on man. I didn’t care about the writing because all I needed was action. After I put new batteries in my vibrator, I read about a doctor who was treating his ex-lover’s son as they waited for a heart transplant. It flashbacked to when they first dated one another, and the young soon-to-be doctor engulfed his new lover completely in his mouth. I envisioned Arden pleasing Daimen. My vibrator caused an orgasm that lasted much longer than my battery-powered friend usually did.
To make this scene more realistic, I shouted out their names, both of them, as if they were here for my viewing pleasure. When I walked back from my bathroom to clean up and wash my vibrator, my phone rang in the den, startling me.
Andrew had probably gotten home and was going to ask if my battery-powered friend had got some action tonight. He knew I was a very sexual person. More so, as my best friend, he understood I loved the sensation of an orgasm. We’d always been the best girlfriends. When I picked up the phone, I looked at the name, seeing an A, and said, “Yes, Andrew, it was super hot, and I got off on the idea, literally, just now.”
In a mere second, my hands started to shake as a deep-bellied laugh greeted my ears. “Now that’s hot, the idea of you getting off, but on what?” I looked at the screen again. It didn’t say Andrew; it said Arden.
Now, I had to backpedal. “Ah, shit, you totally took that out of context, Arden.”
“I don’t think so, my horny friend. But why did you think this was Andrew?”
I was frozen. I couldn’t move, though the bile rose from my stomach to the back of my mouth. I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. I stood mute for a second until I was able to speak. “Apparently, I must need to go back to freaking kindergarten. I saw the A and assumed.”
“And, Ms. Elliot Arnold, what have we learned about assuming?”
“Okay, jackass, is there a reason you’re calling me?” I blurted out, forgetting I’m talking to the man I’d be working with for the next two years.
“Yes, there was, actually, but now, you’ve made me forget everything with this little visual bouncing around in my brain. Though, I’m curious. Did you just have sex? An orgasm maybe? Some lucky bastard on the side? Maybe just your handy friend that operates on batteries? Inquiring minds must know.” I could envision his smile widening on the other end of the line.
“Your mind couldn’t handle the truth,” I teased back. “And anyway, it’s an inside joke between Andrew and me.”
Arden didn’t say anything for a second. “Was it a good orgasm at least? Did you cry out in release?” Oh, he was baiting me. If he only knew what I cried out, he’d be speechless. Or he’d fire me. Or he’d be over here in ten minutes.
“Arden, what is the reason for your call?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll have to give me a second to recover. The idea of you having an orgasm is hot.”
“Shit, I work with you. Not only that, but you’re also very spoken for,” I added, gauging if what Andrew had shared with me was indeed true.
“I am, and I’d never cheat on him to save my life. I love him so much. But I love women, and I’m very attracted to you. You must know this. And I think the feeling is mutual.”
“You don’t say.” Well, where does that leave me? I wanted to say those very words but only added, “So that is all you wanted to tell me? You think I’m good looking, but it can’t go anywhere. Well, I’m nothing if not professional, so that’s how we can keep it. Goodnight, Mr. Blakely.”
“No, Elliot, that’s not what I’m saying.” Arden’s words did hold the tone of denial, but I was still confused and sexually frustrated.
“Then what? I’m taxed out from my major stress-relieving orgasm I just had—are you happy now?”
This time, the line went silent except for a long, deep breath on the other end. Finally, he replied, “Oh, good, you admit it. Yes, I’m very happy. Okay, now that this is off your chest, I can let you go.”
“Wait.” I stopped him. “What was the reason for your call, anyway?”
“Nothing specific. I’m glad you got some relief. It’s important. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I need to have lunch with you again. More design issues … I guess that could be my reason. Have a good night and try to have some more orgasms. Think of me if you need to.”
The line went dead, and I sat there with the phone in my hand, completely blown away by what had just transpired. I went to sleep soundly with images of both men making love to each other as my comfort.
14
Daimen
“Hey, love,” Arden mused as though he was British, finding me after a phone call he claimed he had to take in our home office. “Thanks for tonight. You were sexy as fuck but also relaxed in the you most don’t see out of the office. I think maybe now you and Elliot may not spar so much.”
I didn’t want to think about Elliot Arnold nor the fact that Arden had us living a happily ever after in his mind. “I don’t know about that.” My arms reached for his long, lean body, pulling him down to where I laid on the couch in our living room. “And you’re right about one thing, though. But don’t you fucking dare read too much into this, babe.”
“What?” he asked inquisitively.
My lips twisted a little because I knew it was like giving a spark to a pyromaniac. “She’s hot as hell,” I claimed, affirming the female anatomy still turned me on. I thought maybe after Lana, I had lost all attraction toward women. My mind was creating images of Elliot in a bikini and how stunning she’d be. “I assume she’s taken?”
“No.” Arden’s little tip of his lips indicated his cockier than thou attitude.
“Get that fucking look off your face. I only mentioned this because I’m not as jaded after Lana; that’s all.” Okay, so now I needed to know what was wrong with this beautiful woman and why someone hadn’t scooped her up. “But no boyfriend, why?”
“You remember Jeffery?” Arden asked, and my blood boiled. If that fucker Jeff, Scarlet’s Jeffery that was, touched her, I would end him, and this time it would be physically and not just financially.
“You mean Scar’s Jeffery? Elliot dated him?” I questioned.
He chuckled. How could he fucking chuckle at a time like this?
“It wasn’t physically him,” Arden began. “The man who ruined Elliot was named Keith. But the same type— take what they want and leave them hurt and wounded.”
Now that I wasn’t going to jail for killing Jeffery, I continued, “I only mentioned finding Elliot attractive because after tonight, I know women still do it for me. I’m willing to find the person who’ll complete us.”
His eyes sparkled as he brought me closer to him, and his words were what I’d expected. “So, Elliot, is she a possibility?”
“Hell, no! Don’t go there again, babe.” And maybe I protested too much. I needed perspective. Tomorrow, I’d find it during our meeting, and I’d put this back on the train tracks as nothing but a professional relationship. No one at this point suspected, not even Arden, how much this woman was messing with my mind. We’d now find a female we could agree on, and Elliot Arnold would be a distant memory.
* * *
The second Arden passed the threshold of our room, I was ready. But it was raw, and it was going to be rough. The thoughts of Elliot both at his hand and my own was tearing me up. As I leaned against the door, my eyes met his. “Strip now; your ass is mine tonight.”
Arden had given me so much in our life together, and trust was one of them. Though the dirty fucker loved it naughty. Even when we fucked, he let me have him
all. When I was angry, as I was now, he never stopped me. We were pound for pound, and he could hold his own. I’d never, nor could I ever, hurt him. I would never allow myself this sort of angry sex with a woman, but with a man close to my height and weight, it was entertaining to us both even as it was visceral and brutal.
“You gonna fuck me? Will it be quick? Will it be hard?” The bastard liked to tease me too. To make it primal—even more so—than I intended. “You going to use lube? Or will you push into me dry? Will you stretch me?” His one eyebrow was cocked higher than the other as he walked toward me, pulling down his pants, his dick looking for mine.
Scrubbing my fingers through my thick black hair, I proclaimed, “You’re my schoolboy, and I’m your master. You’d better watch the back talk, son.” I walked in one direction, and he followed me as if we were both on the same invisible circle.
It was no time before he stopped and sauntered toward me, his hands reaching for mine. “I submit to you, Master,” he replied, and his voice was smoother than whiskey in his timbre. It was then my dick stretched farther than I thought it could. It hurt and ached only for Arden.
I opened a door to the left of our bed and pointed past it, making his eyes twinkle. “In the room. Now! I fucking need you.”
Behind the closed door laid our own sex room. It was nothing like 50 Shades, but I’d designed a bench for Arden. It was made with his specifications in mind, and when he was bent over it, I had great access to his ass.
With his hands in front of him on the table, I cuffed him, then grabbed the lube out of our supply drawer. And because my cock needed to be buried in his tight ass right fucking now, I wouldn’t—no, more like couldn’t— be gentle. And for that reason, he was certainly not fucking getting gentle tonight.
“Who owns you?”
“Fuck me, Master. You. Own. Me! Fuck! You. Own. Me!”
That was what I needed. I demanded to own something, and as I pounded the man who was my future, I managed to lean my head over to his and whisper in his ear, “Thank you.”
* * *
We never said much after our long session of fucking. It was what was necessary, and as Arden knew me better than I knew myself, he allowed it.
Lying in his strong arms, I listened to his breathing level out as my fingers fanned across his six-pack. This was the man who rescued me from my abusive mother most nights. There’d be days he’d show up at my house when I had my younger brother and sister, Dominic and Daria, locked in a closet with me, hiding from our mom.
He’d carry Daria in his arms, and Dominic would cling to me. Every time, his parents welcomed us with open arms. We’d be forced to go back home only to repeat it almost every week when Mom noticed our absence.
It could be said that part of my clinginess came from the abuse I endured at the hands of my parents. Having set out to make my own way in this world, I was going to do it on my terms. Love was one of those things you couldn’t always account for. After Lana’s departure almost killing me, losing Arden would be like losing a limb or two or four.
My heart almost stopped beating at the thought of losing Arden, and he was my only focus. That was until SHE permeated my mind, and at that moment, I knew I was fucked.
15
Arden
“Hey, babe, where you going?” Daimen asked casually while I laced up my running shoes and slipped on my long-sleeve shirt.
“It’s supposed to be a little bit warmer this morning in this fucking miserable Chicago winter,” I started, “and I want to take a jog. I’ll be home in time to shower and head to the office with you by eight.”
“No can do, you handsome devil.” Daimen pulled me in for a hug, and I took a long sniff of his freshly showered body. He was covered in just a towel and part of me wanted to rip it off. “I have to go in early for a conference call with Spence.” His sneer told me all I needed to know. “He wants to go over the financials of the condo project. I’m fucking over him coming to me with this. I fucked up, but I’ve saved us a lot of money over the years. So, once in ten years, I messed up. But he’s up in arms over the increased cost.”
My hand reached his freshly shaved face. “Shit, honey.” It was all I could say. Since we parted ways and he took Lana from us, Spencer had become a different person. More menacing, demanding, and at times, I wondered if he abused her.
I could never prove it, and I wouldn’t share it with Daimen, but Spencer had changed. He’d become dark, and I didn’t want to associate with the man I’d once known. But because I’m me, I teased his way. “But it’s sort of your fault.”
A little smirk covered his face. “I know, you arrogant asshole, and thanks for reminding me of that every time you get the chance. Have a good run, but don’t get run over, please. Love you.”
I chuckled at his warning. “I’ll try not to get hit by a car. See you later in the morning.” I pulled him in for a long kiss, and as I always did, I took in the deep aroma of my man—citrus and spiced oranges. His unique fragrance would be with me until I saw him later.
It wasn’t hard to figure out her address. I mean, she ran her business from there, and her business cards had it listed, which could not be safe. Case in point, I found her easily. I was clearly not psychotic, albeit a bit stalker-ish.
When her small building came into view, it was easy to wedge my way through the door when a couple departed. With a knock, she’d opened her door quickly in a towel. She left it ajar, walking away without peering at who she’d let in. Making a mental note to discuss safety with her later, I fantasized over what was under the towel. Her sweet voice floated in the air. “Come in, Andrew. I know, I know, I’m running late like normal.”
“You need to be more careful, hot stuff,” I teased, yet it was said a bit sternly. This saucy breath of fresh air had captivated my mind, and her spirit in front of me made it easier to breathe.
I watched every little bit of her, from the way she flinched to her face reddening in front of me. “Ah, shit, you scared the fuck out of me, Arden. Turn around, I’m in a towel.” I didn’t, though she had. I wasn’t sure she’d heard me with the surprise of my arrival and what I had called her. After two more steps toward her room, she stopped and twisted toward me slowly and methodically.
“Wait.” Her face indicated it had caught up with her mind. “What did you call me?”
My hands were shoved in the pockets of my running shorts, the hood still on my head, and I shrugged. Realization dawned on her like a light bulb had turned on. “I called you hot stuff, like the first time we met. Thought it was appropriate.”
Her hands found her lips, and her gaze fell on mine. What else could I do but smile? Now that I knew the memory of our night was still somewhere in her feisty little body.
“You remember? Finally?” She fidgeted, squirmed, and stuttered. She was so precious, so cute, and so vulnerable. There was so much I wanted to do, taking her in my arms was the first, but I couldn’t. I fucking never would. Not like this. “When did you remember?”
My eyes darted down with the truth in my throat. In the revelation, I’d fully seen the personal space, the place where everything Elliot was. As I chose my words carefully, my vision whizzed from the little kitchen, no bigger than our closet, on the same wall as the door to the three-seat sofa and a small chair all the way to the openness of her bedroom and a double-sized bed that took up most of the space. Between her couch and the back wall was a large bookshelf containing more books than most libraries had. In front of her couch was the smallest television, maybe eighteen inches, on a smaller bookshelf with more books. This was Elliot, the girl who rocked my world for one night and had left a mark in my heart.
“Arden, I’m waiting.” The sternness leaving her mouth coupled with the towel that was still wrapped around her were as cute as a fucking button.
“The second I saw you for the first time,” I admitted, and the emerald of her eyes looked like smoldering stones ready to spit fire my way.
“Interesting …” sh
e added. It was all that came out of her mouth.
My legs stayed put. I wouldn’t risk closing the space between us. “If I had said something, it would’ve put the project at risk,” I admitted, “and we need you.” Sure, we needed her as an architect, but that was not the intention behind my declaration.
“See …” She was pacing back and forth. “I thought for the past couple of days that what we’d shared was not as …” She stopped.
“You can say it, hot stuff. It was life altering, earth shattering, and if you were anything like me, you carried that night around in your heart and mind for the past eight years.”
In just a towel, her entire body reddened. “Yeah, not sure I could have said it any better,” she confessed, her eyes widening. “You know, this will give Daimen more ammunition to hate me. Right?”
“Oh, hot stuff, he certainly doesn’t hate you.” I saw my man and felt him harden last night before dinner when I mentioned Elliot Arnold. He sure as fuck didn’t hate her. “But you let me worry about my guy.” After Daimen had his way with me in our little playroom, my dreams consisted of him and her. And in the same dream, they both had their way with me on the table my man loved to bend me over. But I’d probably already pushed my luck.
“Go ahead and get dressed,” I instructed. My head turned, giving her the privacy she’d requested while I made idle chitchat. “This is a nice place, Elliot. Not what I would expect for you but cute and girly all at the same time.”
“You better stay turned around.” I heard her tiptoe away from me when her voice carried, and for a couple of minutes, I looked at the door. “You can turn around. I’m decent.”
As I spun toward her, I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t have loved her to be naked, but she looked stunning in a brown wrap dress. One swipe was all it would take to expose her. However, I was having to defend myself, and my mind returned to common sense. “Hell, you’re hot and cute and funny and the whole package. I fell in love with Daimen when I wasn’t sure I was bisexual. I won’t ever leave him. I love him, but I can love a man and woman at the same time.”
Foundations: The Power of Three Love Series Page 7
