The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3)

by Nikki Sloane

  Travis issued a soft noise of contentment, like he was enjoying himself, and I squeezed my eyes shut to listen better for a moment.

  But my eyes blinked open to find his had too, and his mouth lifted away, just enough so he could speak. “You like this?” His question wasn’t for me—it was for the other man, and his tone was sinful. “Do you like how I’m licking the taste of you from her pussy?”

  I turned my head, tucking my face into the side of my arm so I could muffle my groan of pleasure. His dirty talk was so fucking hot.

  “Yeah, I do.” Clay exhaled loudly, still off-balance. “Do you?”

  Travis mirrored Clay’s evil smile from before, and awareness washed over me.

  Perhaps Clay had given this command to Travis to exert his power over him, to put the dominant who’d broken the rules back in his place. But if so, it’d failed spectacularly. The tables were turned, the power had flipped, and now it was all Travis’s.

  Clay wasn’t the one in control of the scene anymore, and Travis didn’t just know it—he relished it. “I could eat this pussy all night.”

  I writhed beneath his tongue that was determined to finish its task and undo both me and the man standing nearby at the same time. Clay wasn’t touching anyone, but he was just as much a part of the scene as everyone else. His hurried breath echoed in my ears the same way Travis’s murmurs of enjoyment did.

  My legs trembled as my climax approached, growing closer every second. I strained against the ropes holding my wrists together, wanting to put a hand on Travis’s head and hold him in place. He’d focus in on exactly the right spot, only to move away as my moans swelled, drawing out my anticipation.

  I’d hung so long right on the precipice I couldn’t take any more.

  “Please,” I whispered on a broken breath. “Please make me come.”

  He lifted his mouth and grinned up at me from between my thighs, his lips wet. “So, she does beg.”

  My head thudded back against the table. He was too sexy to look at when power ripped through his eyes. And I couldn’t look at Clay either, but I didn’t need to. I could picture him standing there with his mouth hanging open in pleasant surprise. If Travis was his protégé, he had to be proud.

  Travis’s tone was wicked as he spoke to the other man. “What do you think?”

  I could hear his corrupt smile. “She asked so nicely.”

  Travis’s tongue was lush as it massaged my clit, starting so slow and whipping faster to match my ragged breath. Sparks rolled up my shaking legs. My heart sprinted to keep up with the urgency he created. The need for release was so strong, it narrowed my vision to a singular point . . .

  And then it burst into unfocused stars as pleasure erupted.

  The orgasm wasn’t like yesterday’s. It went on, and on, and on. So long, I wondered if the sensation was ever going to end. As satisfaction gripped my body and mind, it caused me to contract and shudder. I thrashed against my restraints and the hands around my thighs.

  I was still recovering when Travis gave a soft laugh of disbelief, but it was the sweetest sound. He loved witnessing how powerful the pleasure was as it washed through my limbs, and then he turned to glance at the other man, as if wanting to confirm what he was seeing was real.

  Or perhaps he’d glanced at Clay to acknowledge his part in the scene. They’d worked as a team to bring me to this point, so he wanted to share the credit. The thought only sent me soaring higher. How the hell did I get so lucky to find—and have—both of these men?

  Travis straightened to stand upright, wiped a hand over his mouth, and gazed at me with longing in his eyes. It wasn’t sexual desire—it was a different kind of ache, and it made me jittery. I liked the way he looked at me now, but what if it didn’t last?

  What if I came to dread it like I always had before?

  I pushed the thought away as he walked to the other end of the table and undid the knots at the handle, allowing me to lower my arms. He helped me sit up, intent on untying the ropes around my wrists, but when his hands landed on mine, he paused. He saw the opportunity and wasn’t going to waste it.

  He stepped to the edge of the table, cradled my face in his hands, and lowered in. His lips pressed to mine in a kiss that rivaled the one he’d given me last night. He hadn’t asked anyone’s permission, but Clay’s silence allowed it.

  If I weren’t already weak, the long, lingering kiss would have made me so. It tasted like gratitude, like he was thanking me for the scene. My brain was foggy and floaty, and enjoyed the simplicity of it. When it ended, I sat dutifully still and let him undo the ropes my other partner had put on me.

  Travis hadn’t come. The only time he’d been touched was the hand Clay had set on his chest. Yet he seemed satisfied, and without acknowledging it with words, we all sensed it was late and the evening was coming to an end.

  Clay picked up his jeans and shoved a leg into them, surveying us as if he felt like an outsider in his own home. As he dressed, Travis fetched my clothes, and while I put them on, he coiled the rope into a neat figure 8 and set it on the workbench.

  It was Clay who helped me down off the table, but once I was on my feet, he didn’t want to let go of me. Seeing him uncertain was strangely reassuring. He was human, capable of making mistakes, and didn’t have every moment of his life figured out.

  I didn’t want to add to his confusion but couldn’t help myself. I rose onto my toes and pressed my mouth to his. The kiss wasn’t about possession or ownership. It was meant to show how happy he’d made me, and I was thrilled when he responded in kind. It wasn’t in his design, but his embrace strengthened around me and I sank into our connection.

  It was over sooner than I wanted, but Clay broke the kiss as if he just thought of something and it needed to be said right that very moment.

  “It’s important we all understand that while this arrangement works for us now,” his voice was serious, “it can change at any time.” He searched for the exact words and weighted them. “It’s temporary.”

  I exhaled slowly. Maybe he’d said it to be helpful, to protect Travis from falling for me when I wasn’t built for the long term. But it also felt like he’d reiterated it was temporary as a reminder to himself, and to me to not become too attached.

  It served as a warning to us all.

  Dr. Lowe’s house was larger than Clay’s and had an inground pool in the backyard. It was the spot we’d chosen to kick off the celebration for Cassidy’s twenty-first birthday, and I sat on the lounger by the deep end, watching the people playing in the pool with mild interest.

  The original plan had been a small get-together. Just Cassidy, her boyfriend, and a few of her friends from high school. But there was serious overlap in friends between Cassidy and Dr. Lowe’s son Preston, and since it was his house too, the laid-back barbeque had grown into an all-out pool party.

  Preston was an ass, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised he’d decided to co-opt Cassidy’s birthday celebration. When they’d been together, he alway had to be the center of attention, and that hadn’t changed when they’d broken up. She claimed he’d done a lot of growing up over the last year and was getting better about her dating his dad.

  But I wasn’t convinced.

  I surveyed the people, trying to remember names and who was dating who. I was older than everyone else—except for Greg—but he was smart enough to pretend he was too busy manning the grill to hang out with the folks in his pool who were considerably younger.

  Preston, I knew, because I’d met him before. It was also easy to remember his friend Troy’s name. He sat at the edge of the shallow end, his feet dangling in the water, staying right on the cusp of joining in with everyone else.

  Two weeks ago, he’d just been a guy trying to make it in the Music City, but last week he’d won an online competition, and now the whole town was buzzing about the pool boy who could be the next big thing.

  Something caught his attention because he cl
imbed out of the pool and hustled over to the grill. Horrible Judy Malinger’s house was on one side of Greg’s, but his neighbor on the other side had appeared and was deep in conversation with him. I’d met her once or twice before. She was the music agent, and likely Troy’s, judging by the way she smiled at him.

  A guy plopped down on the end of the lounger, nearly sitting on my feet, but I drew them back just in time. Water dripped down his toned, tan chest, and he slicked his hair back out of his eyes, slinging droplets everywhere.

  “Hey, there,” he said. “I’m Colin.”

  He was probably my age or a few years younger, and cute, but judging by his wide grin, he knew it.

  “Hi, Colin.” I gestured to myself. “Lilith. I’m Cassidy’s friend. We work together at—”

  “Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I asked Preston about you, like, a second after I got here.” He tucked a foot under himself, swiveling to face me, and his posture was carefree. His gaze swept over my body, taking in the white crocheted cover-up I wore, and I appreciated how he didn’t seem to be peering through the small holes to see what was beneath. “How come you’re not swimming?”

  “I’m not hot enough to want to get in,” I lied.

  His smile was cocksure. “Gonna have to disagree with you there.”

  It was so over the top, I couldn’t help but laugh. Confidence was sexy, and this guy had it in spades. A few months ago, I probably would have eaten him up. But everything was different now. This cute boy couldn’t compare to the two men I was in a relationship with.

  “Can I get you another drink?” He glanced at the can of Miller Lite beside me that I’d been nursing the last thirty minutes. Like Cassidy, I’d taken the day off from the clinic, but it was barely six o’clock on a Tuesday night, and it felt weird to be drinking so early. Plus, I assumed harder liquor was coming later tonight when we went out to the bars, so it was best to switch to water until then.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Colin wasn’t deterred. He wiped at the water dripping down his chest, and I wondered if it truly bothered him, or if he’d done it to call my attention to his muscles. “You going to Troy’s show on Saturday? He’s opening for Stella.”

  “I heard, but I—”

  “I’ve got an extra ticket if you want to go with me.”

  I paused, lifted my eyebrows, and gave him a smile. “Straight to the point,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

  He winked. “I figured you would.”

  Oh, he was smooth, and I immediately began to catalogue my brain for my single friends. I wasn’t interested, but I didn’t want to see this guy go to waste. Someone could have fun with him.

  I shot him a regretful look. “Thanks for the offer, but I have a boyfriend.”

  He put his hand over his heart, acting like I’d mortally wounded him, and his tone was teasing. “Do you need another?”

  It just came out of my mouth without thought. “No, I already have two. Three is a bit much, even for me.”

  He blinked and evaluated if I was joking, and must have decided I was, because he laughed and shrugged.

  There was a splash and water rained down on us. Troy had returned from his conversation and was gathering up his stuff when Preston had playfully flung water at him. Colin and I were merely bystanders caught in the crossfire.

  Preston stood in the shallow end and grinned up at his friend beside the pool, who was stepping into his flipflops.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” Preston demanded, but it sounded like he totally knew the answer. The only response Troy gave him was a rueful smile, and then he was off, carrying his bag and towel toward the side gate in the fence.

  “Boy,” Colin said, “he’s sure in a hurry to clean Ms. Graham’s pool.”

  And to make sure I didn’t miss his innuendo, he stared at me with an all-knowing look, as if he were letting me in on a big secret. I laughed softly and shook my head. It was always hilarious to me when guys gossiped. Most of them couldn’t keep a secret for shit.

  Which of course, made my thoughts drift back to Clay and Travis.

  This time when Preston splashed us, it was intentional, and I gasped as I was doused with cold water. It slapped me in the face and soaked my hair. “What the fuck?”

  He was oblivious to me; his focus was on Colin. “Hello?” he cried to his friend. “Why am I in here all by myself?”

  Fucking Preston. I was drenched, and he didn’t care. Hell, he didn’t even notice. I swung my legs off the chair and stood, wiping my fingers under my eyes, and probably smudged my makeup.

  “I’m getting a new drink,” I announced to no one in particular, snatching up my half-empty, warm beer.

  Greg’s house had a walkout basement, and just inside the door was a small bathroom. With the air conditioning going and my drenched cover-up, it was freezing in the house, and I marched through the kitchenette and straight into the bathroom. I flipped the light on and peered at myself in the mirror, surveying the damage.

  Thankfully, it was okay. My mascara wasn’t running, and none of my eyeliner had relocated beneath my eyes.

  My gaze dropped down to the soaked cover-up. Should I wring it out? Or maybe it made more sense to just change back into my regular clothes and steer clear of the pool. In hindsight, it’d been stupid to put on my bikini in the first place. I knew I was never getting in the pool.

  I couldn’t, because there’d be questions.

  I sighed and pulled the cover-up over my head, then grabbed a towel from the stack on the sink. As I wiped at my damp skin, I peered at my reflection and the faint yellowing purple bruise by my hip. It’d been six days since Clay’s rough hand had pinned me to the table, and I wore the memory of it still.

  It turned me on just looking at it.

  “Who left the light on in the bathroom?” a male voice grumbled to himself.

  I was slow to react. I’d just finished turning to face the doorway when Greg stepped in and pulled up short at the sight of me.

  “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

  His innocent gaze swept over me and came to an abrupt stop on my bruise. I shifted the wet fabric in my hands, holding it over my waist to hide the mark, and tried to act natural.

  “I got splashed,” I said like an idiot.

  My clipped voice and quick move to cover up only made it worse, and Greg’s handsome face turned serious as he nodded toward my hip. “What happened there?”

  “Nothing.” I dry-swallowed, buying myself time to come up with a plausible lie. “I caught the edge of an exam table at work.”

  He kept his tone even, non-accusatory. “And the backs of your legs?”

  What?

  I turned, realizing dimly he could see all of my back side through the mirror. The worst of the marks were hidden under my bikini bottom, but red-purple lines peeked out beneath and crisscrossed the top of the backs of my thighs.

  Clay had instructed Travis to use the flogger last night, and the sweet sting of it had been heaven. I loved the beautiful patterns it’d left on me, but I hadn’t realized they would show until I’d slipped into my swimsuit earlier this afternoon.

  “Uh . . .” I racked my brain for an explanation.

  Greg glanced out into the kitchenette, and when he didn’t see anyone, he stepped all the way inside the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He spoke in the low, soothing voice of a doctor. “Lilith, is everything okay?”

  I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, trying not to be embarrassed. “It’s fine.”

  “Is someone hurting you?”

  I exhaled and shook my head. “No, no. It’s not like that.”

  “Cassidy said you’re dating someone new. Did he do this?”

  Dear God, I was going to have to come clean. Greg was a doctor, which meant he had a legal obligation to report suspected abuse. I hated having to tell him though, because Clay was so private,
and it was extremely likely Greg was going to figure out who I was talking about. I didn’t care who knew I was into the lifestyle, but I didn’t want to ‘out’ Clay to one of our neighbors.

  My face heated, but I lifted my chin and tried to look confident. “It was consensual.”

  “Consensual,” he repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” His concern didn’t fade. “You sure? No one’s making you do anything you don’t want to, right?”

  I gave a tight smile. “I’m sure. Trust me, I like what we do.”

  He slowly relaxed a degree. “Okay.” He’d probably seen a lot of shit during his residency, so there wasn’t judgement in his eyes. Just the conditioned doctor response. “We don’t know each other that well, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or start to feel unsafe with your partner . . . you can come to me. I’m here.”

  My chest was tight with awkwardness, but with warmth too. He was a good guy, and I was glad Cassidy was with him. Despite their age difference, and the messed-up situation with Preston, they made a great pair.

  “Thanks, Greg.”

  He nodded, reached for the door handle, but didn’t open it. “I hope he’s taking good care of you, during and after.”

  Maybe I’d sat in the afternoon sun too long, because for the second time today, I spoke without thinking. “Don’t worry, they are. One of them is a doctor.”

  TWENTY

  After I’d changed out of my swimsuit, I went back outside and took a seat at the patio table beside Cassidy. Like me, she was drinking water in preparation for the main event tonight.

  “You know,” she said, “there’s plenty of room on the party bus if you want to invite a friend.” She pulled at the strands of her hair to tighten her dark ponytail. “Like, say—Dr. Eckhart.”

  Two girls in the pool squealed with laughter as Colin did a backflip off the diving board and splashed them with water. Nearly everyone here was paired up, or at least they all knew each other. There were inside jokes and conversations about past high school friends I didn’t know, and while I was probably Cassidy’s closest friend now, it was hard not to feel like an outsider.