Twisted Marriage: Filthy Vows Sequel

by Torre, Alessandra

  19

  Brad De Luca found us in the media room, stretched out on dark leather Restoration Hardware sofas that I was already plotting to steal. I’d ignored six more calls from Chelsea, drank two bottles of wine with Julia, and had been chewed out by her house manager for putting my shoes on the ottoman. Floyd had left at some point, giving me a wry smile as I gave him an over-enthusiastic and fairly sloppy hug.

  “Wow.” The man stood before Julia, his hands on his hips and looked down at his wife, an affectionate smile breaking the stern lines of his face. He was really handsome when he smiled. “How drunk are you?”

  “A wee bit,” she informed him, holding her thumb and index finger an inch apart.

  “Oh damn.” He bent over and kissed her. “Been corrupting our realtor?”

  “No corruption,” I interrupted. I attempted to sit up and somehow swayed to the other side. “We were just about to do the seller’s disclosure.” Seller’s somehow turned into weller’s and Julia giggled.

  “Yeah, let’s wait on that.” Brad sat down on the end of the couch by Julia’s head, carefully repositioning so that her head was on his lap. He ran his hand over her forehead and she closed her eyes, letting out a low hum of approval.

  “How did the photos go?”

  “Good,” Julia said. “Martha kept him in the areas we talked about while Elle and I held down the couch in my office.”

  He grinned at me, and it really wasn’t fair for a man to be that attractive. “You’ll have to excuse my wife. She’s a naughty thing.” His hand, which had been resting on her stomach, slid over her breasts.

  I looked away. I should go. They probably had stuff to talk about. Mob defense strategies to coordinate. Hot people sex to initiate. I groped along the floor for my phone. “Do you know what time it is?”

  There was a pause, while Brad checked his watch. “Almost six-thirty.”

  “Crap.” I half fell off the couch as I dug through my purse. “My husband’s flight is landing any minute. I need to get home.”

  “Why don’t you have him swing by here?” Brad ran his fingers along the top of Julia’s hair. “We can put steaks on. I hate to be a prick, but you can’t drive home. We can take you if he can’t come here.”

  “Oh, no.” I found my phone and hefted upright, aware that my butt had been stuck in the air like a burnt offering. “That’s fine. I can get a ride.” Yep. I was officially the worst Realtor ever. They’d probably email me the minute I left. Sorry, Elle. Things aren’t working out. It turns out you’re an emotional train wreck who drooled all over our couch.

  As if on cue, my cell vibrated. I glanced down, expecting to see Chelsea’s number again, but it was E. I hesitated. “This is my husband now. He must have landed.” So much for my plan to have started dinner.

  “Give me the phone,” Brad ordered. “I’ll talk to him.” He looked at me, really looked at me—and I don’t know how anyone ever refused him anything. I tossed the phone toward him and he caught it with one hand, swiping across the screen and lifting it to his ear. Our eyes held as he said hello, and he winked at me. In between my legs, I clenched.

  “He’s really bossy,” Julia apologized in a whisper loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. “But it’s sexy, right?” She laughed, and I laughed, and I’m glad she didn’t want a response, because she was right. It was sexy. My overeager fantasies began to churn and I killed that mental detour before it had a chance to take flight. Even drunk I could recognize that being this attracted to my biggest client was a bad thing. A very bad thing.

  * * *

  Easton showed up just after seven, his tie tight, concern etched on his handsome features. I launched myself into his arms and felt him stiffen, his arm circling my waist protectively. “Thank you for calling me.” He stuck out his hand to Brad and there was a minor skirmish of alpha male egos in the middle of the foyer. “I’ll get her home. Have a good night.”

  “Wait, Easton.” Julia appeared in the doorway, and I felt him straighten a bit at the sight of her. Sober, I would have been jealous, but I was in the sort of love-everybody mood that was impossible to crack. “We just put some steaks on. You’ve got to be hungry. You’re on LA time, right? Please, stay for dinner.”

  “She’s right. Come on.” Brad turned away and waved over his shoulder, eliminating the option to decline. “We can’t waste this meat. Besides, I’ve got a box of Cubans I need an excuse to smoke.”

  “Are you okay?” Easton asked quietly, keeping me in place beside him.

  “I’m fine. Slightly drunk.” I laughed. “Relax, babe. I promise, it’s all good.” Dipping out of his arms, I tugged at his hand and he reluctantly followed me through the great room and toward the outdoor kitchen.

  * * *

  Dinner was paired with drinks, and after two Scotches, Easton’s tension had mellowed and his bromance with Brad was in full force. As it turned out, Brad was familiar with his failed baseball career and had played himself, in college—not pro. Their conversation turned in the general and boring direction of sports, while Julia and I bonded over peppermint schnapps and books. It was almost ten before we found ourselves back in our respective couples, tongues loose and limbs languid, clustered across from each other on the circular seating that framed the dark fire pit.

  Around eleven, the conversation turned sexual, and we laughed over Brad and Julia’s stories about sex resorts and awkward misunderstandings. They spoke freely and without shame, and I found myself less and less embarrassed of our own minor experience that seemed like a fairly tame drop in the bucket compared to their hedonistic adventures.

  Brad blew a stream of cigar smoke into the dark night air. “Julia.” He patted his leg and she rose, stepping before him with confidence. I expected her to sit sideways on his leg but instead she straddled it, the hem of her skirt riding up to expose a toned and tan thigh. She bent her head and kissed—or maybe bit—the side of his neck. “How do you feel when I fuck other women?”

  She grinned and slid her hand down the middle of his dress shirt. “It drives me crazy. I come alive with this raw and insane possessive instinct.”

  “So, you don’t like it?” I asked, curious.

  She glanced at me. “I hate it, but it also turns me on so much. Like, more than I’ve ever been turned on by anything.”

  “I’m just not sure I could do it. The idea of it turns me on, but I’m worried I wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” I looped my fingers through Easton’s. “What if I hated him for it afterward? And what if the girl became a problem?”

  “Single girls don’t work,” Brad interrupted. “They’re either prostitutes or problems. And prostitutes can work, but there isn’t as much of a feel of authenticity there. That’s why couples swap—or you borrow a wife for a night.”

  I could see Easton weighing the idea and I hurried to cut his thought process off at the pass. “If we wanted to do that. But a lot of couples just do threesomes with a guy, right? We could just hook up with single men, and not do anything else?”

  “You can do anything you want. Anything you both are comfortable and happy with.”

  “But you said the thought of seeing Easton with a girl turns you on.” Julia turned to me. “Is fear the only thing holding you back?”

  “Maybe?” I struggled to find the right words to describe the mix of panic and arousal that I felt when I thought of Easton with another woman. But what was I afraid of? No one knew E’s body and needs better than me. No one. I knew that more than I knew anything else in this world.

  “Elle.” I turned to look at Easton and found strength in his quiet smile. The firm hand that he cupped against my waist. The confidence in his eyes when he looked at me. “You know, I was terrified that night with Aaron.”

  “You were? Why?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? My wife—you—were about to be touched by him. Pleased by him. I didn’t know how you’d react to that, and I didn’t know how I’d react to it. I knew him, and I knew you, a
nd I trusted both of you enough to push through that fear and try it out.”

  “For me,” I said quietly.

  “Yeah…” He grinned. “But it was good for me too. I figured that out the minute he walked into the room. I thought I’d hate it, but I didn’t. I saw the way you responded and I fucking loved it.”

  I lifted my glass of wine and took a small sip. “Do you think I’d love it?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Let’s try an experiment,” Julia proposed from her spot on Brad’s lap. She spun forward and met my gaze. “How would you feel, right now, if I sucked your husband’s cock?”

  She threw it out so casually, as if we were deciding who was going to drive to dinner, or whether we should brew a pot of coffee. Do you prefer decaf? A blowjob for Easton? Brad said nothing, his features calm and unaffected, though I watched his hand slide possessively up the front of her shirt, almost high enough to cup her breast.

  From beside me, Easton inhaled in surprise, his grip on me tightening. Did he want it? Normally, I’d be alive with jealousy and territorialism, but instead… arousal was licking up from between my legs, tingling and growing as it skated up my belly and coiled around my nipples. She wouldn’t do it. Not right here. Not right in front of her husband. These were all hypothetical questions. Right?

  Everything boiled down to that question, and my focus tightened on her. Her sharp and intelligent eyes, holding to my face. Her hand, still gripping Brad’s. Her posture, curved toward us. The excitement that radiated from her. She wanted to do it.

  I gave an awkward laugh. “Is that a hypothetical question?”

  “It’s a serious question. How does the thought of it make you feel? If it pisses you off, or turns you off, then you guys should probably stick to just you and a guy. But if it turns you on… then let’s try it right now and see how you feel. If you, at any point, hate it—then I’ll stop.”

  “I’m sorry,” Easton interrupted. “I’m not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you’re talking about giving me a blowjob, right here? Like, right now?”

  Brad thumbed the end of the cigar. “If Elle and you are comfortable with it.”

  I didn’t have to look at E to know what he was thinking. I could feel him stiffening against my leg. I had picked up on the vibration in his voice, the husky catch in his question. He wanted it. Of course he wanted it. It had been six years since another woman had seen his dick. Six years since anyone, other than me and a medical professional, had touched his dick.

  He started to speak, to politely protest, and I stopped him. Inside, I was on fire. Hot, panicked arousal. It was roaring through my head and out of my ears. It was chasing my heart around my chest and drumming a beat of pleasure between my legs. I was already wet. I was terrified. And if I was ever going to do it, this was the time. My eyes met Brad’s and he nodded as if to command me to speak. “Let’s try it and see.”

  Julia turned to Brad and kissed him deeply, her fingers skating across his chest and wrapping around his tie, tugging it toward her as she deepened the contact, then broke from him and turned toward us.

  I looked at Easton and wondered if I should kiss him too. He studied me warily, his hand tightening on mine when I went to stand up. “Stay,” he said gruffly. “And kiss me.”

  I kissed him swiftly, almost desperately. His hand curved around my head and he pulled me tighter, pinning me against him. I pulled away from his mouth and watched as Julia took a seat on the other side of him, her leg close enough to brush his. I expected her to comment on his erection, which was now tenting the front of his pants, but she didn’t. Instead, she relaxed against the back of the white cushion and picked up Easton’s Scotch, bringing it to her lips. “Will you show me how he likes it?”

  “Jesus,” Easton swore under his breath as he stretched out his legs and tried to adjust his dick to a less painful angle. I glanced at Brad, who watched his wife with dark eyes. How much had this couple done together? What boundaries did they have?

  “I—ah…” I swallowed hard and watched as Julia sat up, then reached forward and gripped the leather end of Easton’s belt.

  “You don’t have to,” she said softly, just loud enough for me to hear. “But it might help. We can do it together.”

  “I really fucking like that idea.” Easton lifted his arm up and around me, urging me forward and closer. “Show her. Please.” The beg tore out of him, the word rough and jagged, as if he was choking on the single syllable.

  Could I? If it wasn’t for Brad, I’d already be on my knees, his dick out and pushing down my throat. But knowing he was watching… I… Fuck. Could I do this?

  As if he could read my mind, Brad pushed to his feet and reached forward to stub the cigar out on the tray. “I’m going to go get a refill on my drink.” He walked behind the sofa and bent over the back of it, his hand sliding down Julia’s chest and squeezing her breast. “Behave, wife.”

  She laughed and tugged on the ring finger of his hand, looking up at him in adoration. “Take your time.”

  He released her, then turned and headed up the series of steps that led to their back deck. I watched him move up the first set of stairs, his steps confident and relaxed, then focused on Easton. Dragging down his zipper, my hand brushed hers and I let out a shaky breath at the twist of anticipation that unfurled in my gut.

  “On your knees,” Easton breathed, his bossy dominance coming out to play now that Brad had gone. I pulled a pillow from the couch and put it on the ground, kneeling onto it and working him out of the opening of his pants. Julia fully undid the belt and button, helping me to peel back his slacks and underwear until his cock popped free.

  She grinned in approval. “Wow.” Reaching out, she brushed her fingertip along the bulb of his head, then all the way down his rigid shaft. It twitched, and I felt a flare of jealousy that her touch had caused the reaction. She turned to me, her grin dropping and a studious concentration came over her features. “Show me how you suck it, what he likes.”

  I scooted forward, my hands settling on his thighs, and opened my mouth, running my tongue along the underside of his shaft and flicking it along the ridge of his head. I relaxed my throat and took him as far as I could, then worked him in and out of my mouth. He let out a groan of approval and leaned forward, gathering my hair in his hand and securing it away from my face.

  She knelt next to me, sharing the tight area between his open knees, and I flinched in surprise when her hand ran up my side. I pulled my mouth off his cock and worked it with my hand, watching as she undid the top button of my blouse, and then the second.

  She opened up the material, exposing the top of my cleavage to the warm night air. “Is this okay?”

  I nodded, curving into her delicate and cool touch, the sensation so foreign compared to Easton and Aaron’s firm and masculine hands. “You’re beautiful,” she said, pulling apart the final buttons, her hands skating over my lace bra and undoing its front clasp.

  If it was possible for Easton to get harder, he did, his foreskin stretching drum-tight as he watched Julia lift my aching breasts in her hands. My hand, which had grown lazy, worked back into action as I tried to pull my attention off my tender nipples and toward his cock. She brushed her lips over one of my nipples and I inhaled at the soft touch of her mouth. “Here,” I said quickly. “Take it.” I needed to see her put that mouth on him. I needed to get the focus off me and onto him before I ripped all of my clothes off and begged someone to fuck me.

  She lifted her mouth from my breast and moved toward his cock. I needed her to do it quickly, before my wave of arousal crested, or turned into insecurity, or some other card in this towering stack fell out of place. The fire in my head roared and when she wrapped her hand around him and lowered her head to take him in, I expected it to burst. She slid her mouth down on his shaft, her lips gliding over the thick rod, and I braced for impact.

  Nothing. Nothing but the slow and mounting need to be fucked six ways to Su
nday. Nothing but the love burning through me for my husband, who gripped her ponytail in his fist and stared into my eyes. He short thrusted up into her mouth—Julia De Luca’s mouth—and worshipped me with his stare. I lowered my face until it was beside hers, my nails skimming along his thigh, and flicked my tongue out and along the base of his cock. She tilted her head to one side and together we licked up along his thick shaft. I took in the swollen head, then she did, and when I looked back at him, his features were almost delirious with pleasure and arousal.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. Pulling at my arm, he lifted his chin. “Sit on my face. I have to taste you.”

  I sat back on my heels and pushed to my feet. Unbuttoning my slacks, I pushed my underwear and pants down, then ripped my shirt and bra off, stripping down to nothing in the middle of their backyard. From above me, I heard the slide of the door and realized Brad was returning. Empowered, I stepped onto the cushion and over Easton, straddling his shoulders and fisting his blond tufts as he kissed my hips and fought for access to my pussy. Slow footsteps sounded as Brad came down the steps.

  “Kneel on the back cushions,” Easton gasped and I heard Julia gagging, looked down to see her face buried in his lap, his thick dick fully down her throat. I held on to his head for balance and knelt on the cushions on either side of his face, struggling to stay upright as I pitched dangerously over the back of the sectional.

  “Here.” Brad’s voice came out of the darkness, his hands gripping mine, supporting me as I balanced over Easton’s face. My husband’s mouth settled between my legs, right where I was hot and aching, and I moaned aloud as his face buried in and focused on the most intense spot of my need.

  “Does that feel good?” Brad’s voice was gruff and close.

  I kept my eyes closed as my back arched in pleasure. “So good,” I panted.

  He moved my hands to either side of his neck. “Keep your hands on my shoulders.” He leaned forward and his breath tickled my hair. “Can I touch you?”