Young, Allyson - The Promise [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour]
Page 1
The Promise
In the heat of passion, Peter tricks Jillian into making a promise to participate in a week of sexual adventure with him and his best friend, Sean. Jillian has been very attracted to both men for a long time but questions the propriety of such a relationship and also wonders how two gorgeous men could be so attracted to her.
Peter and Sean want far more than just sex with Jillian. They want her with them forever, and are determined to persuade her to keep the promise she made. A careless action, also made in the heat of passion, will take the final decision out of all of their hands and decide the future for them all.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 43,244 words
THE PROMISE
Allyson Young
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
THE PROMISE
Copyright © 2012 by Allyson Young
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-247-9
First E-book Publication: February 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
For another Jilly, who honoured her own promise.
THE PROMISE
ALLYSON YOUNG
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Jillian startled awake. She stared around the bedroom, disoriented, and for a moment had no idea where she was. This wasn’t like her, just as the vague headache and dry mouth that signaled a hangover wasn’t like her, at least not since college. What the hell had happened? What had she done?
She became aware that she was naked under the sheet and duvet, and how tender her breasts were, as well as the area in between her legs. Jillian touched those lips and felt the swollen contours. Oh Christ, she had fucked Peter. No, please, no. She covered her face with her hands and rolled into a ball, now struggling to deny the memories that flooded in.
They had finished the presentation to the client last evening, and the euphoria of gaining the contract after months and months of long hours and hard work in close quarters made the team positively giddy. They had gone out for a late meal and a few drinks. Jillian had perfect recall now. She and Peter had been sparking off of one another during the whole process of the agency vying for that account. The attraction was something she had resolutely forced to the back of her mind. One of her talents was total focus and commitment, and she had come too far in the man’s world of advertising to let chemistry interfere in her career. Plus, the chemistry hadn’t only been with Peter, the rep responsible for double-checking every nuance and style of the proposal. Mr. Quality Control. But she didn’t want to think about the other reason for the chemistry.
Peter was gorgeous, no doubt about it, and totally hot. He was maybe eight inches taller than her five-six, and Jillian groaned inwardly at another eight inches she had become quite closely acquainted with if memory served, and it did, quite well. His thick hair, shot through with all manner of shades of blond, screamed for a woman’s fingers to run through it before she stroked down his sculpted face to touch his firm, sensuous lips while she got lost in his navy-blue eyes. Good grief. Get a grip, get a grip.
Jillian now knew that Peter’s torso was nicely muscled and his chest lightly sprinkled with soft blond hair. His back was broad and smooth, his spine a joy to stroke. She was lost in a daydream despite what she had done, opening a door she wasn’t sure she could close again. Peter’s legs were long, his thighs lean and muscled, and his ass perfect, not too large, not too small. Jillian didn’t want to think too much about the iron velvet of his cock. He also smelled wonderful, just like the sheets and the pillow her head rested on. It was a nice citrusy yet woodsy smell. Jillian sat up and struggled off the huge bed, wincing as her feet hit the cold hardwood. She ached from head to toe, albeit in a good way, a satisfyingly tired way.
Where were her clothes? There were no signs of anything that belonged to her, no jewelry, no shoes, nothing. Jillian made her way to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Nothing of hers in there either, although a new toothbrush and paste was set on the counter. Jillian cleaned her teeth quickly, trying not to look in the mirror, then took the plunge. Oh my God. Her hair was a massive cloud around her face and shoulders, and her scalp felt tender. Jillian remembered Peter holding her head captive with both fists in her locks, guiding the movements of her mouth over his cock. The whisker burn on her cheeks and chin did nothing to draw attention away from her swollen mouth. The love bites and whisker burn on her breasts caught her eye next, and she carefully reached between her legs to part her labia. Yup. Peter had put that full eight inches to prolonged and punishing use there, too. There was no real residual stickiness between her thighs, and Jillian breathed a sigh of relief as she figured that he must have used a condom. Or ten. She had been on her back, her knees, her belly, and on top. Ride ’em cowgirl. The colour rose in her face, clear up from the top of her breasts as she recalled some of the arousing, praising comments he had made and her own pleas
for more, harder, not to mention the screaming orgasms.
Time to go. Must find clothes. Even her thoughts were disjointed today, but Jillian had a single-minded focus. Get the hell out of Dodge. She had promised Peter something last night in a strangely lucid moment, and, despite her innate honesty, was about to renege. Before the other “shoe” dropped.
Jillian wound a bath sheet around her body after using the toilet and splashing water on her face. She would go home in a cab wearing the towel if need be, so great was her desperation to flee. She made her way through the condo, following the smell of coffee. Peter stood in the kitchen, his back to her, working at the stove. Jillian’s mouth watered, and not at the enticing smell of frying bacon. He looked positively wonderful, wearing only a pair of cutoff pajama pants, the fabric draping across his impressive, tight ass. His back and shoulders were as broad as she remembered, and even his large bare feet were sexy. The pink scratches on his back pulled matching color to her cheeks.
Peter turned to face her and cocked a brow. “Morning, Jilly. Breakfast is nearly ready.”
Jillian swallowed and took a deep breath, trying not to look at his crotch and certainly not looking at the red love bites scattered across his chest and neck. “Good morning, Peter. I’m not hungry. Actually, I would like to know where my clothes, purse and car keys are.”
Peter smiled at her, a dark, knowing smile. “Has someone forgotten her promise?” he asked.
Jillian thought fast and rejected denying any memory. Peter was too good to fall for that one. “I’m reneging,” she announced.
Peter shook his head and said, “You aren’t, sweetheart. We have a week off work because of the Penney account, and we are holding you to your promise. Today is day one.”
Jillian quaked and fought not to show it. She tried a tentative smile and tried harder to ignore the “we” in his announcement.
“I can’t, Peter, and neither should you, and…well, none of us can afford this type of involvement and continue to work together. It will get awkward.”
“We’ll be in the same firm, but it’s unlikely that we’ll all be working the same account together again. There’s too much work to go around. And it really doesn’t matter. You promised,” Peter assured her.
He set the fork down and moved toward her, caging her against the wall as she tried to retreat. Jillian fought down her panic and arousal and made a determined effort not to show either.
* * * *
Peter hid his worry with equal skill. He and Sean had been pursuing this beautiful, sexy, intelligent, driven woman for months. The chemistry between them had been electric, and despite Jillian’s arm’s length approach, for she knew better how to work than play, the acquisition of the Penney account had forged both a bond and an opportunity. Peter had coaxed the promise from her in a weak moment, with Jilly sated and exhausted yet begging for her sixth orgasm of the night, but Peter wasn’t playing by any fair rules of combat. He wouldn’t keep her there by force, but she didn’t know that. Sean would soon be over, and then Jilly would hopefully be too overwhelmed by passion to break her promise. Sean was much darker and more forceful than he was, and he needed his buddy to help.
Peter hooked a finger in the top of the towel, right between her breasts, and pulled her to him. Jillian fought to retain the towel, but he sensed that already her body was responding to him. When he slanted his mouth across hers, the towel slipped to the floor between them, forgotten. Panting, Jillian broke away from him and pushed ineffectually at his chest. Peter stroked her hair away from her face then turned her in his arms, walking her out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Jillian tried to set her feet, but his superior height and weight inexorably moved her along.
“Wait. What are you doing?” she protested.
Peter smiled against the top of her head. “Go take a shower while I finish making breakfast, sweetheart,” he said and pushed her into the bathroom, tossing in the towel after her and closing the door on temptation.
Jillian had the pale, clear, milky skin of the true redhead, and it shone, nearly translucent and pure. Her entire curvy body was like that, blemish-free except for a tiny mole high on the inside of her right thigh, just below her pussy. Peter’s mouth watered with the anticipation of showing it to Sean. Unusual turquoise eyes, slanted slightly upward at the corners and framed with thick, black lashes, had drawn him first, hell, had mesmerized him. The mass of titian-red hair, always confined to severe chignons at work, made it all the more glorious when it was released to stream down her back and over her breasts, the myriad of shades breathtaking. He loved to wrap his fingers in it. The red flame of curls at her sex was so sexy, too, although Peter expected Sean would have them gone pretty quickly.
Remembering the feel of her silky skin, those firm breasts tipped in an unusual pink and coral shade, and the way her buttocks swayed nearly undid his resolve to wait for Sean. He wanted to see the blush of passion rise from Jillian’s breasts and up over her throat again soon. Peter leaned against the wall staring at the closed bathroom door, listening for the sound of the shower to kick on. He so wanted to bathe her, but knew his limits. None of them would get to eat breakfast, and Jilly was going to need her strength. He returned to the kitchen to find Sean poking at the bacon.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he commented.
Sean turned to face him and offered, “I’d hate to think you were fucking our woman again. I’m rethinking last night already. I should have come over, even if it was late. You should have called me.”
Peter shrugged. “We talked about this, Sean, many times, and the opportunity finally arose. If I had waited for you to get your shit organized, we might have lost that opportunity.”
“You could have called me in between sessions, buddy,” Sean said, “and not hogged her for yourself.”
Peter sighed. He and Sean shared women almost all the time, and this was the first time there had ever been a hint of jealousy. He acknowledged that it would have been better to introduce Jillian to their lifestyle and expectations up front, but Sean had had to rush off and deal with some minor glitch from work, missing Jillian’s overindulgence with alcohol and subsequent agreement to a night of sexual celebration. Lawyers. To tell the truth, Peter had never found a minute to call Sean, because Jilly had kept him so occupied. He could have used Sean’s expertise and the extra pair of hands, not to mention his mouth and his cock. Jilly was everything they had hoped for in bed.
“Sorry, Sean. There was no in between.”
Sean’s eyes narrowed then flared with lust. “Really?”
“Really.”
Sean stretched like a big cat and flexed his hands. “Where is our honey now?”
“I sent her to shower as a distraction. She was looking to find her stuff and clear out of here before you arrived or I got sexual with her again,” answered Peter.
Sean glowered at him. “I thought she promised us this week?” he muttered.
“She did,” answered Peter, “but she got scared in the cold light of day, I’m sure.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” said Sean, “because we don’t allow anyone to go back on a promise. She’ll soon understand that and be happy we didn’t allow her to do so. Besides, we’ve agreed that she is the one. No more dating, searching for a woman who won’t just fuck us together but will be willing to stay with us.”
Peter smiled back at his friend. “We’re going to have breakfast, and then Jilly is going to learn what we like.”
Chapter Two
Jillian wiped the steam from the mirror and rubbed her hair vigorously with a hand towel. The bath sheet wrapped right around her, but she wasn’t fooled by the hint of armor. Sean would soon be here if he wasn’t already, and she was scared silly, despite the arousal she fought pooling between her legs.
Peter had sweet-talked her into a night of sexual excess. With her defenses down, tumbled by the euphoria of gaining the lucrative account and too many margaritas, Jillian had gone along with the plan, the e
rotic things he had crooned into her ear right in the middle of her coworkers turning her on beyond belief. He hadn’t waited for the door of the condo to close before he was on her like white on rice, pulling her hair out of its chignon, eating at her lips, and stealing the breath right out of her body. To be honest, she had been pulling at his suit jacket in a frenzy to get it off and flinched to remember how she had yanked his shirt open so hard that the buttons popped and flew across the room to plink against the furniture and the floor. Peter had stripped her efficiently and lost his pants and shoes and socks without any help from her, and they had rolled down the wall to the floor. The cool texture hadn’t cooled her off at all, and she’d arched into Peter, seeking his cock.
Jillian’s memories of the previous night kind of flowed into one another after that. Peter had chuckled against her breasts, lapping and nipping at her before testing her wetness with a finger. She didn’t know how he got the condom on or his boxers off, but he had plunged into her right away, with no further preliminaries, stealing her breath again, stroking and pumping until she came hard on him. They had somehow found their way to the bedroom, where Peter had splayed her at the edge of the bed and explored her pussy with his fingers and mouth. The second and third orgasms, hard on the heels of the first, had actually hurt in their intensity, a good pain, sobering her but never making her question if she was doing something she would regret. Not then.