Enticement Page 14

  They weren’t. She knew it in her heart, and for once her head was actually in agreement.

  Uneasily, she tried to squirm free of Ross’s grasp.

  He wasn’t having it. He surprised her by straddling her lap and ripping her top up over her head.

  Goosebumps peppered Evie’s skin. Kit put down his game controller and turned sideways on the sofa. He slowly wetted his upper lip as his gaze fixed upon her breasts. Fire streamed into Evie’s cheeks. She longed for the audacity to stick her hand in the air and stop this long enough to ask what the hell was going on.

  Ross leaned closer, sandwiching their loins together. Like Kit, he bore the faint shadow of stubble around his jaw, only his whiskers were the pale golden brown of malt whisky in a glass. Deep down he had the same sort of burn too. I know what you’ve been up to and you’re a bad, bad, girl, said his eyes. But did he really know?

  Evie allowed herself to wallow in their azure depths a moment, pretending Kit didn’t exist, but considering he had the sort of presence that made you sit up and pay attention, she couldn’t maintain the ruse for long.

  “Now the bra.” Ross made minimum effort of the catch. He drew the shell-pink silk down her arms and then threw it over the sofa back. Evie clamped her folded arms across her breasts, the large nipples of which were puckered up tight. “Aw, Eve. Don’t go hiding ’em from me. You know how much I like to feast upon them.” In two easy actions, Ross had uncrossed her arms, and sucked one dark pink peak into his mouth.

  A groan erupted from her throat.

  Ross roughly crushed her other breast within his palm. Then his hands were moulding both breasts and his lips were tight to her ear. “Don’t look at him,” he whispered.

  This of course, made her stare directly at Kit, and once trapped, there was no helping herself. There was just something about his make up—the sooty lashes that framed those dark eyes, the curve of his cheekbones, and that overindulgent pout, that held her completely captive.

  Oh, God, please make this happen.

  She could hear the harsh rasp of Kit’s breathing, an only marginally less steamy purr than the one that currently rumbled in Ross’s throat.

  Please, God—she closed her eyes tight—please!

  The sofa springs squeaked as Kit shifted his weight, in order to edge a fraction closer to the necking couple. He’d seen the confusion in Evie’s eyes, mixed up with her blatant desire for what she imagined was happening. Kit wasn’t so sure that Ross had the same thing in mind. His lover’s jaw was locked so tight his chin jutted out.

  Kit didn’t crowd the pair, but he settled close enough to feel the heat radiating off them and to smell the heady musk of their bodies replace the sweet scent of Evie’s pamper products.

  Evie looked terrific post-coalhouse tryst and invigorating shower. Good enough to eat. He wanted to lick her like he would an ice-cream. Her skin had a slight shimmer to it, giving it a golden glow that added a more tactile quality to her soft curves. Her breasts especially, he wanted to touch. Two nipples, two men… But, it still wasn’t happening tonight, not unless he’d completely forgotten how to read Ross. Still, he admired the sight of her. Kit liked that she was shapely and rounded, all soft curves, a real exemplification of pagan sexiness. Androgyny, in either sex, had never appealed to him. He liked opposites, soft femininity in women and hard brawn in men.

  Already braced for rejection, he stretched his hand towards Ross’s back. For several blissful seconds he enjoyed the feel of Ross’s muscles working under the skin, as he pressed his palm flat to the bare band of flesh visible below the hem of Ross’s decrepit jumper, then the rejection came. Even expected, it jarred. There were no words, Ross didn’t even turn. He simple lifted Kit’s hand from where it rested and laid it upon the sofa cushion instead.

  If a more eloquent way of saying “no” existed, Kit had yet to experience it. He didn’t wait for a verbal reiteration, knowing it would only chafe an already open wound. Ross understood that he wanted to be part of their relationship, not a bleedin’ voyeur. Fuck that! If Ross thought that he was going to sit here like a good boy and watch, he was sadly mistaken.

  Hoping to prompt a reaction, Kit scooped Mimmy from her basket and left the room. He sat on the stairs, nursing the squirming kitten and an outrageous hard-on.

  How mental was this? Still he held off from charging back in and making demands. He wanted this to work, which called for the softly-softly approach to certain aspects of it, anyway. They’d made it over several hurdles today; best he didn’t risk another quite yet.

  He noticed they’d begun talking the moment he left. The two voices tumbled over one another in what he presumed were strings of adjectives and excuses. He didn’t want them to admit to what was going on to one another yet. Too much remained at stake. He wasn’t convinced Evie was ready to entertain the idea of an intimate relationship between himself and Ross. When he’d hinted at it, she’d exhibited classic signs of denial. So far, her concept of a threesome consisted of a whole lot of male attention lavished upon her, and no straying into gay. They needed to address that, really needed to, because he had no intention of keeping his hands off Ross, as he loved the sandy-haired powerhouse far too much.

  The hum of voices abruptly ceased. Judging by the grunts and gasps, Ross had taken charge and Evie was now blowing him.

  Kit closed his eyes and recalled the taste of Ross’s cock upon his tongue, and then the sensations of both Ross and Evie giving him head. Curious that they’d both lavished that particular pleasure on him today. Evie definitely won on technique, although he admired Ross for his teasing and enthusiasm.

  Absentminded of the cat, Kit hugged himself. Mimmy objected by sinking her claws into his arm. Talk about a passion killer. He released her and rubbed at the wounds, and watched her bolt back into the living room, presumably intent upon taking up her favourite radiator perch.

  He couldn’t resist. Down he followed as far as the door, which sat slightly ajar thanks to Mimmy’s entry. Kit lurked in the shadows, his fly undone and his waistband slung low on his hips. He could see Evie’s face over the back of the sofa. Her head thrown back, chin up, as Ross noisily sucked upon her nipples. He had her breasts squeezed together, forming an incredible cleavage that he was lavishing attention upon, while she frigged herself and stroked his cock.

  Nice, he thought, supplanting himself from his outpost to a central position behind Evie, facing Ross in his fantasy recreation of the scene. He plastered himself to her naked back, roughly jostled with Ross for possession of her breasts, then while rolling her huge nipples between his fingers, he nuzzled closer and sucked hard upon her neck, leaving a vivid mark.

  “That’s right, Evie, suck it down. God, you’re loving this.”

  Ross certainly was. He reckoned he could probably get off on just the image of her on her knees, half-naked with her head bobbing. The fact that she happened to be doing exactly that was a major bonus. The only thing he’d change in an ideal world was that they’d be doing this in the shower or outdoors in a thunderstorm. Although, it’d have to be a nice monsoon-type thunderstorm so the rain wasn’t too cold.

  One of these days he really was going to have her do this outside in the rain in some nice romantic location, maybe even on their honeymoon, if she ever let him get that old-fashioned. For now, he wanted to hold her. Coming in her mouth, while nice, lacked the same intimacy as lying pressed together, bare skin moving against bare skin.

  Ross clasped the base of his cock and coaxed Evie to release him with a gentle push upon her shoulder. She gazed up at him from her knees, her pale-blue eyes full of glamour.

  “Upstairs,” he said. “Go.”

  She shot off as though it was a race.

  Ross scooped her clothes off the floor and threw them into the kitchen so that they landed before the washing machine, then turned off all the lights, the games machine, and the TV.

  Evie sat on her side of the bed facing the window, a black silhouette against the cream curtain
s, when Ross entered the room. She turned her head to eye him across the expanse of the duvet.

  Ross gently shut the door. For a moment, he simply drank down the image of her, with her soft curves and lovely, oval-shaped face. Even in the semi-dark, he could make out the dimple in her cheek that formed when she smiled.

  “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees,” he said quietly. He didn’t want it to be a command, even though that’s what it was.

  Unhesitant, she obeyed.

  Ross stood for a moment, his hand wrapped around his stiff cock, trying to make sense of what he was doing. He wanted her, and yet he had an image of Kit in that damn leather wingback chair he had at work, all curled up and desperate to fuck. The same thirty second video loop had been playing in his head all afternoon.

  But he’d sent Kit away. Wordlessly banished him. Okay, he hadn’t intentionally done so, but he should have realized that Kit wouldn’t tolerate being relegated to the side-lines. Nope, he liked running the show too much.

  The thing was, everything was changing, and he wanted tonight—now—to be about Evie and him. They both needed to wise up to the risks they were taking, and realize exactly how much was at stake if they let Kit have his way. And yet as he climbed onto the bed, still fully clothed, all thoughts of making things perfect between them vanished.

  “You want him don’t you?” he said ever so quietly—a sharp contrast to his more violent action as he ripped the flimsy lace thong she wore from her body.

  Evie gave a small gasp, but didn’t offer a denial.

  “Maybe you wish it was him here now, with his cock out ready to fuck you, rather than me. Maybe he already has.”

  “Uh!” she said, reduced to making inarticulate grunts as he pushed his cock into her wet, hot sheath, and she welcomed him with unprecedented eagerness. Damn, if all this talk of Kit wasn’t turning him on as much as it was Evie.

  That was a good thing, he reminded himself. Leastways, it ought to be.

  “How would you like it if I called him in here right now? I could sit back here stroking myself as I watched you and him fuck.” Ross rocked his hips, enjoying the easy slide that made his balls slap against her skin. “You’d like it, wouldn’t you, Evie? Jeez, you’re so fucking hot for it I can barely keep a grip on you. You’re not even denying it.” To be fair, she wasn’t actually saying anything, but Ross knew arousal when he saw it, and currently, forget cloud nine, Evie was up on cloud ninety-nine.

  “I want you.” She gave a mangled gasp.

  “You don’t want Kit?”

  She began to shake her head and then stopped. Lying had never been Evie’s forte.

  Evie tried to say more, really she did, but couldn’t seem to get her vocal chords to cooperate. She’d never seen this side of Ross before, so rough and possessive, but in a screwed up, back to front sort of way. She understood that what he was really asking was, “Do you like him better?” and “Evie, are you still in love with me?” But she didn’t have any simple answers to give him.

  What she had with Ross she never wanted to end, but at the same time, it was safe, familiar and comfortable. There were no big shocks and no nasty surprises. Kit appealed to her in a fundamentally different way. She didn’t expect him to stick around, wasn’t even sure if she wanted him too. Kit was one hundred percent prime fling material, a bad boy with a spectacularly good ass. She found him sexy and curiously addictive. That he could turn her on so easily she found both enthralling and terrifying.

  But he wasn’t partner material. He wasn’t the sort of man you settled down and started making baby plans with.

  Baby plans!

  That’s why they’d moved here, because she wanted to settle down and get serious. Mucking around with her boyfriend’s best mate and hankering after a threesome were hardly the acts of a woman looking for commitment.

  Ross shuffled over a bit and stretched towards the bedside cabinet, although his grip remained firm upon her backside. He yanked open her bottom drawer. Heat flooded Evie’s cheeks as he raked amongst her ancient collection of hair curlers and odd socks to find her vibrator. Somehow, when Ross lifted it, it seemed twice as huge and far more realistic looking. It actually pre-dated their relationship. He only knew she had it because she’d used it as an impromptu back massager one time when he’d got a crick in his shoulder.

  “Ross,” she croaked. “What are you doing?”

  He squirted the latex cock with lube and rubbed his hand up and down the flesh-pink shaft, making it shiny.

  “Ross?”

  He pulled out of her in response, leaving her feeling bereft. A moment later, he pushed the squirming vibe into her cunt instead and revved it up a bit.

  “I know you’re curious, Evie. So, why don’t I give you a taste? You can’t get that camping story he told you out of your head, can you? I’ll bet you’ve been frigging yourself in the toilets at work imagining having us do you together.”

  “Tents make me horny.”

  “Cocks make you horny. I know how much you like playing with mine. The prospect of two must leave you sopping.”

  “Personality,” she whispered under her breath. It wasn’t just about exposure. Cocks could be works of art, but it wasn’t them, but rather the whole mental mind-fuck thing that she really got off on. It wasn’t the motion of his hand upon his shaft that left her breathless when she watched him masturbate. It was the knowledge that he was engaging in a taboo act for her entertainment. Right now though, Ross seemed intent upon exploring another taboo act. Even before he drew his thumb along the channel between her cheeks and circled around the puckered ring of muscle, she’d understood his intention.

  They’d been dancing around this act for so long now… She guessed the time was ripe.

  The very tip of his finger teased its way inside her arse.

  The new sensation combined with the buzz of the vibrator set her hips in motion. Ross drew another item from the drawer, this one an ancient unused Christmas present. He tied the multi-coloured scarf over her eyes, causing another shiver of excitement to roll down her spine.

  “I’m going to let Kit fuck you, Evie. You know that I’m in your cunt right now, well, I’m going to let Kit take you in the arse. We’re going to have you together. Do you understand? We’re going to have you together.”

  Blinded, Evie became completely submerged in the fantasy. She squirmed over the intrusion of Ross’s fingers into her arse, even when her nerve-endings lit like sparklers. Sensations assaulted her from her front and back. Ross’s cock felt huge. Huge and hot. He slid into her really slowly. She wasn’t sure if that didn’t serve to make it worse. It didn’t hurt precisely, but it was raw. The sensations involved right on the edge of what she thought she could tolerate. “Ross,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes together beneath the blindfold. “Oh, God! Ross.”

  “I know. I know.” The low rumble of his voice soothed some of the tension from her body, as did the slow reassuring stroke of his hands. “Slowly, that does it.” He started to rock, sliding into her and withdrawing slowly. “That feels so good. You feel so good, Evie. Shall we pick the speed up a bit?”

  He swirled the dial on the vibe up a bit. Ross jerked into her, gasping, and immediately twitched the dial back down again.

  “That’s a little too good,” he squeaked. “Oh, boy!”

  Evie wished she could see his face, so she could gauge how close to the edge the sudden buzz had taken him. He wouldn’t let her turn though and smacked her arse when she tugged at the blindfold. His strokes quickened, and he began jerking the vibe in time with his motion so that it became easy to fall into the fantasy that both Ross and Kit were filling her.

  Ross continued to murmur into her ear, painting fantastic pictures of the three-way coupling, until Evie stopped hearing the words. Her thoughts collapsed inwards as the sensations in her cunt and in her rear overwhelmed her completely. She gave herself up to motion and the rippling stream of pleasure that swirled around her clit and flowed outwards. She came
hard, screaming and bucking like a thing possessed, and hugging the pillow as if it truly were Kit.

  Ross held her through the waves and stayed with her even when vibe slipped free. He licked the sweat from her back, drawing his tongue up to her shoulder blades, so that he lay so deep inside her, his balls pressed against her swollen, sensitive skin. “I love you,” he whispered and squeezed her tight.

  The hug dissipated a second later. Instead, he clamped onto her hips and rode her so that their bodies repeatedly slapped together, and only released her once he’d come deep inside her.

  “God, you’re fucking amazing.” Ross held her until erection faded, then rolled off the bed and padded away. Evie tentatively eased her muscles out of their stiffened positions. She was still rubbing the kinks out of her knees when Ross returned with a warm flannel to help clean her up.

  “Ross, I don’t want us to fall apart,” she said.

  He caught her gaze, but couldn’t hold it. Ross plumped the pillows up and settled on his back. He tugged Evie into the crux of his shoulder. “You do fancy him, though?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “It’s hard not to.”

  “I know,” he soothed. “I know. He’s hard to resist.”

  “I’m sorry, Ross.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You know I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  Now was the time when she really ought to make her confession, tell him exactly what had happened in the coal shed and out on the hillside, but a quick glance at Ross confirmed that he was already sliding into post-coital exhaustion. Maybe now wasn’t the time. Then again, when would there ever be a good time to confess?

  “Hypothetically,” she began and bit her lip.