Carnal Passions Presents

Between Brothers

By

Lauren Gallagher

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Carnal Passions

A Division of Champagne Books

www.carnalpassions.com

Copyright © 2009 by Lauren Gallagher

ISBN 978-1-926681-23-8

September 2009

Cover Art  ©  Jenn Smith

Produced in Canada

Dedication

To Nichola—This book wouldn’t exist without you.   It’s all your fault, and for that, I am forever in your debt.

One

I woke one Sunday morning with a stranger in my bed and a sick feeling in my gut.

Watching him sleep beside me, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream, cry, or just shake my head and curse under my breath.

It wasn't the casual sex that bothered me. It wasn't the fact that it was my fourth one night stand since my husband and I separated three months before. No, what bothered me was replaying the previous night's festivities in my head and realizing that it had been no different than the others before him.

In short, it sucked.

Just like it always did.

I sighed, muttering a few obscenities as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. I was honestly starting to believe that sex was overrated. My husband had been my first and he’d never done much for me. After we separated, I decided to burn off a few years worth of sexual frustration, certain I'd find something better than the lackluster sex I'd "enjoyed" with him. Sex with someone else had to be better than sex with him. It had to be.

I stood, running my hand through my disheveled hair and pulling on my robe as I let out a frustrated sigh. I'd always heard that sex in books and film bore no resemblance to reality, but assumed that there had to be something on the spectrum between what I found in porn and what I found in my own bedroom. There was no way people would go to the lengths they did to get sex if it was really this bad.

There was one thing I couldn't deny: the only common

denominator among my less-than-thrilling partners was me.

So what was I doing wrong?  Was it just bad luck? Maybe bad taste?

I cast a quick glance at—what was his name? Ken, that was it. He was still sound asleep.

Ken wasn't bad looking. Quite the contrary, actually. He looked like he divided most of his time between a gym and a tanning bed, and his highlights probably cost as much as my car payment. Of all the men I’d met recently and the handful I’d slept with, Ken had seemed the most promising. He could dance, and he was a fantastic kisser.

He was a fantastic kisser, but that only seemed to apply when he was kissing my mouth. The second he put his mouth anywhere else, he had all the grace and precision of a blind man trying to spearfish with his tongue.

I couldn't complain about his cock. Well, that's not true. I couldn't complain about its dimensions. In fact, I distinctly remember laying eyes on it and thinking Jackpot! The previous couple of men I’d slept with had evidently done horrendous things in their past lives and were paying for it—dearly.

Ken, I soon discovered, hadn't escaped penile karma either: He was well-endowed, but it took longer for him to put the condom on than it did for him to have an orgasm.

Maybe it was good sex. Unfortunately for me, I blinked and missed it.

With a sigh, I wandered into the bathroom for a shower, wondering if this really was as good as it got. Maybe sex was like the emperor's new clothes: Everyone who had it knew that it sucked, but no one wanted to admit it because they didn't want to be the only one.

The thought made me chuckle as I stepped into the shower, but I truly was starting to wonder. As the hot water ran over my shoulders, I rested my forehead against the cold tile and sighed again. I wasn't lonely. I was still on the rebound from my marriage, especially since John and I hadn’t even settled on whether this was a temporary arrangement, or if we were truly calling it quits. Divorcing or not, I just wasn't interested in anything serious with anyone. In fact, I was enjoying being on my own, living in my own place, not being attached to anyone.

What I did want, though, was some decent sex. Some

satisfying sex. Hell, I'd have been happy with just one decent orgasm caused by someone other than myself. I knew what an orgasm could feel like, and the sad excuses for orgasms that these men gave me never seemed to hold a candle to the ones I had on my own. And at least my vibrator just went quietly back into the nightstand drawer when I was done, instead of lingering in my bed for awkward morning after small talk and empty promises to get together again.

I sighed and closed my eyes as the hot water ran over my neck. Something wasn't right. There had to be a man out there that knew how to please a woman. Or maybe I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was that something had to give, or I was going to have to buy stock in batteries.

By the time I was done with my shower, the sick feeling was still in my gut and Ken was still in my bed. He was not, however, still asleep.

He grinned at me from the bed. "Hey, beautiful."

Oh, I've never heard that before, Casanova. "Good morning," I said with a forced smile.

He winked. "It certainly will be."

I bit my lip. I couldn't do it. No way. "Actually, I, um." C'mon Marisa, think. "It's...you know...that time."

He eyed me for a second, puzzled, then made the connection. "Oh." He made short work of getting out of bed and dressed. We had some coffee and made awkward small talk in the kitchen before he left.

The 'period card', I thought with a smirk after he was gone. Works every time.

I made myself some breakfast and sat alone in the living room, mulling over last night, over the other one night stands, over my ex. Something had to give. Really. There had to be some decent sex out there. There just had to be.

The question was, how the hell did I find it?

Two

On my way home from work on Monday night, my good friend, Darren, texted me to see if I'd mind a visitor for an hour or two. This was hardly an unusual occurrence; ever since I moved into the apartment in Lynnwood, I lived about halfway between Darren's work and his apartment. When traffic was heavy, as it usually was this time of night, he sometimes stopped by for a cup of coffee. Darren had the patience of a saint except when it came to traffic, so it was just as well.

I really wasn't in the mood for a visitor. Between the usual bullshit at work and my lingering frustration from my one second stand on Saturday night, I just wanted to be alone. But I could always stand Darren's company, so I texted back a simple "see you shortly".

He knocked on my front door just seconds after the pot of coffee was ready. I don't know how he managed it, but he always showed up right when the coffee was done. He sat on one of the barstools on the opposite side of my kitchen counter as I poured our coffee and we made small talk.

Darren was an intriguing collision of masculine and feminine. His dark hair was perfectly trimmed, perfectly kept, parted just far enough off center that it perfectly complimented the contours of his face. He was fair-skinned with intense blue eyes and high cheekbones above a sharply angled jaw. When he moved, he carried himself with the grace of a woman but the swagger of a man.

What I wouldn’t have done to get that man into bed, but I didn’t dare cross that line. I wondered what he would have thought if he knew that all he had to do was say the word, and I’d fuck him. Then again, given my rather cynical attitude about sex at that point, it would probably be just as disappointing as sex had always been, and I didn’t want to spoil my fantasy.

Our small talk wound down and we drank our coffee in silence for a moment. He watched me over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. "Something tells me you've had a shittier day than usual."

I shifted my weight and set my coffee down. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you wear your bad moods on your sleeve."

I scowled. "Maybe that's why everyone was keeping me at arm's length at work today."

He shrugged. "Or it was you keeping them at arm's length."

"Most likely."

He set his coffee down and cocked his head. "So what's up?" He lifted an eyebrow. “Problems with John again?”

“Hardly,” I said bitterly. “We haven’t spoken since I moved out.”

“I thought you guys were trying to sort it out.”

I rolled my eyes. “John’s definition of ‘working it out’ is to go our separate ways for six months, see other people, then get together again and basically start over.”

He stared at me incredulously. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “Ever the romantic one, John.” With a shrug, I added, “So, I’ll see other people, wait it out, and talk to him then.” I looked into my coffee cup. “I hope we manage to work things out, but…” I let my voice trail off.

Darren didn’t push the issue. We’d been down this road. He knew that I still loved John, that I hoped against all hope that this separation was temporary. He picked up his coffee. “So if that’s not what’s bothering you today, what is?”

I took a sip, rolling it around in my mouth for a moment while I tried to decide just how much I wanted to tell him. We'd been friends for years; there weren’t many topics that were taboo between us, but I’d never gone into much detail about my sex life. I sighed and swallowed my coffee. "Well, it isn’t John per se, but it does have to do with

your gender," I said with a smirk.

He gave me a look of mock offense. "Impossible. What has any member of my gender ever done to piss you off?"

I snorted. "More like, what hasn't any member of your gender done?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

I sighed. "Can I ask you a really stupid question?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Jackass."

"Guilty." He took a drink. "Now ask away."

I swirled my coffee gently, avoiding his eyes. I tried to find the words. "Shit, I don't even know how to say it."

"No, you don't look fat in those pants."

I laughed. "Why thank you. Seriously though..." I bit my lip and thumbed the handle on my coffee cup. Finally I set the cup down and crossed my arms across my chest. "You watch porn, right?"

He blinked in surprise, then laughed. "You found my collection, didn't you?"

"No.” I paused, laughing. Then I cleared my throat and tried to be serious. “You do watch it, right?"

He shrugged. "I do, but not as often as you might think."

"Really?"

His cheeks colored a little. "I'm a bit more of a fan of the written word than crappy acting and plastic tits."

"An erotica fan?"

He nodded.

"Okay, so, that was my next question, if you read erotica." My cheeks were burning.

He watched me over his coffee cup. "Are you ashamed of me now?"

I laughed. "Please. I could probably loan you a few copies of things you've never read." Including a few short stories of my own starring you. Or your brother. My laughter faded. "My question, though…” I chewed my lip for a second, trying to find the words. “Does what you read even remotely resemble what you experience with a woman? In reality?"

He blinked. "Hell no." I was about to sigh with relief that I wasn't the only one, but he continued, "The real thing is so, so much better."

My heart sank. "Really?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You sound disappointed."

I looked away.

He leaned forward, folding his hands on the counter. "Don't tell me you've never..." Our eyes met and his lips parted. "You're kidding."

I shook my head. "I thought it was just John. I mean, he couldn't do crap for me." I let out a breath. "But every guy I've been with since we separated..." I shrugged.

He stared at me for a moment. "You mean," he paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes as if trying to comprehend what I'd said. "You've never gotten off during sex?"

I shrugged. "I do sometimes.  But it's nothing like, you know..." My face was on fire.

He smirked. "Like when you do it yourself?"

I kept avoiding his eyes, but nodded. Christ, I couldn't imagine having this conversation with anyone but Darren, but even with him, it was almost unbearable. "I just, anytime I've fucked a guy, I walk away feeling like, 'that's it?'"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"So, I mean, what are they doing? Or not doing, as the case may be."

I took a breath. "The last one barely lasted long enough to get the stupid condom on."

Darren laughed. "A minute man. Charming. Didn't he at least make up for it some other way? His mouth? His fingers?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please. The man couldn't have gotten me off with his mouth if his life depended on it."

"Okay, so Loser Number One is a minute man with a malfunctioning tongue. Next?"

"Then one was too rough with his hand, wouldn't go down on me—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up." He gestured sharply and shook his head. "Say that again? He wouldn't go down on you?"

I shook my head.

He clicked his tongue. "Philistine. Tell me he at least lasted more than a few minutes when he fucked you."

"Oh, he lasted a while," I said. "Long enough that I

was starting to sing '99 Bottles of Beer' in my head."

He laughed so hard he choked on his coffee. "My God, Marisa," he chuckled. "Where are you finding these guys?  I mean, if someone lasted that long, he should have at least been able to hit your G-spot a few times."

I stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw dropped. "Tell me at least one of them has found your G-spot."

I dropped my gaze. I had a somewhat vague idea of where my own G-spot was. The men I'd been with were liable to find Jimmy Hoffa before they found it, though.

Darren set his coffee cup down hard and eyed me. "My gender is truly letting me down, here."

"More like letting me down."

He shook his head. "So, have you told them what you like? Pointed them in the right direction?"

I thumbed the handle on my coffee cup and stared at the floor. Of course. Since I’m so good at that. Just like I can tell the man sitting across from me that I’d jump his bones at the drop of a hat. "Honestly? I'm not even sure how to steer them in the right direction."

"Tell them what you like, what you don't like."

"I know, of course," I said. "But, to be honest, I'm not even sure what to ask for. What I want." Besides you.

"You know what feels good, right?"

"Well, when I do it."

He shrugged. "Well, it'll probably feel good when they do it too, provided you give them some feedback. Men aren’t mind readers, you know."

I swallowed. "I tried that with John. A little. He just always brushed it off and insisted he knew what he was doing." I laughed bitterly. "I don't think he ever really gave a shit if I came anyway. Whenever I did, it certainly wasn't because of any concerted effort on his part."

Darren ran a hand through his hair. "Well, the first thing you need to do is find a man who wants nothing more in the world than to get you off."

I blinked. "A what?"

He smiled. "They're out there. Trust me. Making love to a woman is an art form, and there are plenty of artists out

there."

"If it's an art form, I'm getting all the ones that are in Remedial Scribbling 101."

He laughed and shook his head again. "Well, on the bright side, it means you have nowhere to go but up."

"So what do I do? Ask a guy if he enjoys getting a woman off before I take him to bed?"

"That's a start," he said. "Okay, seriously. You know, talk to him beforehand.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right, because every man doesn’t think he’s Casanova.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Darren said. “No guy is going to tell you he sucks in the sack. It’s not so much what he says, it’s how he says it.”

I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

“If a guy promises you thirty orgasms in a night,” he said. “He’s probably full of shit. The kind of guy who thinks a woman’s having an orgasm any time she moans.” He sipped his coffee and wetted his lips before he went on. “You want the guy who asks you what you like before he starts telling you all the reasons why he should be a porn star.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever run into such a guy.”

“They’re out there. I promise.” He eyed me. “But, the other side of that is that you have to actually tell them what it is you like.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered.

He shrugged and sipped his coffee again. “And I don’t know how it applies to men, but I can tell a hell of a lot about a woman by the way she kisses.”

I shifted my weight. “How so?”

“If she just sort of passively lets me kiss her,” he said. “Then I can pretty much guarantee she’ll be a passive, cold fish in bed.” He paused; watching me for a second, then went on. “If she’s practically chewing my face off, trying to stick her tongue down my throat, then she’s got quite the sexual appetite, but isn’t terribly responsive to my cues. When I start gagging, it’s time to back off, you know?”

I laughed, but as I thought about what he’d said, he was right. John was a very domineering kisser, the kind who made the decision between a gentle kiss and a deep French kiss without any input on my part. The guy from the other night went straight to challenging my gag reflex with his tongue the very first time he kissed me, and he certainly didn’t take his time with anything else.

In the back of my mind, I wondered what it would be like to have the kind of confidence to look Darren in the eye and ask if we could test that theory right there in my kitchen.

Instead, I set my cup down and ran a hand through my hair. “Sounds like I need a damned degree in psychology to figure out if it’s worth taking a guy home.”

Darren smirked. “It’s not as hard as it sounds. You’ll be fine. You just have to pay attention to his cues.” He sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Then, once you get him into bed, you’ve got to give him enough feedback to let him know if he’s doing the right thing.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “I guess that’s going to take some work.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” he said. “Trust me. All it will take is a few cases of ‘I want this’ resulting in earth-shattering orgasms, and you’ll have no trouble asking in the future.”

Prove it, Darren. Fucking prove it. Right here. Right now.  I swallowed hard. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He grinned over the rim of his coffee cup. “Trust me.”

Three

I met Marty in a club the following Saturday night. Scrutinizing him using Darren’s advice, he seemed promising. His kiss was assertive but not overly aggressive. When his hand came to rest on the small of my back while we danced, the subtle movements of his fingertips on my skin gave me goosebumps. Judging by the look on his face, he knew full well what he was doing to me, and it wasn’t accidental.

We danced our way into a dark corner, and didn’t bother dancing anymore. His hands were all over me as we made out like a couple of horny teenagers. He thumbed my nipple through my shirt and laughed softly as I moaned. I doubt he heard me over the thundering music, but I’m sure the look on my face spoke volumes.

I gasped as his hand moved between my thighs. He shielded me with his body so that the rest of the club didn’t get an eyeful, and his fingers found my pussy.

“I’ll bet you taste fucking amazing.” His voice was barely audible. He kissed my neck as he slipped his fingers inside me. In a throaty growl that I felt more than heard, he added, “Tell me you’re a woman who loves having her pussy eaten.”

My breath caught in my throat and Darren’s voice echoed in my head: Well, the first thing you need to do is find a man who wants nothing more in the world than to get you off.

Jackpot.

Speech eluded me, so I simply nodded, shivering at the ragged breath he exhaled against my neck. He kissed my shoulder, taking my breath away with the softness of his lips. Over the blasting music in the club, I couldn’t hear what he said to me, but I could feel his voice on my skin. I didn’t need him to repeat it to understand that he was suggesting we go someplace else.

He didn’t live far from the club, so he invited me to his apartment. When we got there, I realized it wasn’t an apartment at all: It was a spacious condo in one of the posh high-rises overlooking Puget Sound. If a woman wanted a sugar daddy, Marty was the man for her, but I wasn’t interested in his money or his house. I didn’t bother asking for the grand tour, and he didn’t offer. There was only one room in the house that I was interested in.

We wasted no time getting to his bedroom and into his California king-sized bed, but once we’d reached that destination, Marty slowed everything down.

My first couple of buttons were already open, but he took his sweet time unfastening the rest. He opened the first and focused his attention on the newly exposed flesh, trailing his fingertips across the “V” of skin until he was certain he’d explored all of it. I shivered at his gentle touch; it was the first time someone had taken his time with me like that, and between what he was doing then and the anticipation of what else he had planned, I was going out of my mind.

He opened the next button, and his lips joined his fingers, kissing and touching as if he’d never tasted or touched a woman’s bare skin before. By the time my blouse was completely open, he hadn’t even touched my breasts, but I was on fire. If he was this tender and attentive above the waist, I could only imagine what he would do for my clit. A shiver ran up my spine at the thought.

He finished undressing me and quickly got out of his own clothes. He kissed me, a long, tender kiss, running his hands all over my skin and through my hair. “You know,” he said. “You are a fantastic kisser.”

I smiled. “As are you.”

His smile turned into a grin. “I’d love to see what else your mouth can do.”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

He laid back on the bed and I took his cock into my

mouth. My jaw ached as I tried to accommodate him, but at least he was better-endowed than some of my previous conquests. With any luck, he would also last longer than Ken.

“Oh, wow, you are good with your mouth,” he said, scrunching my hair in his hand as I sucked him. “A little bit slower. Yeah, just like that. Oh Jesus, that’s good.” Then, he stopped me. “Keep going like that and you’re going to make me come.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said, running my tongue around the head of his cock and grinning as he gasped.

“Not at all,” he said. “Except that I want to fuck you.” I sat back and he reached for what I was quickly coming to accept as the Universal Condom Storage Receptacle, his nightstand drawer. I chewed my lip; though I was eager to have his cock in my pussy, I wanted more. That, and he hadn’t gone down on me with that rather talented tongue of his. Disappointment started to creep in, but I remembered what Darren had said: Men aren’t mind readers, you know.

Asking for anything in bed was miles out of my comfort zone, but really, what did I have to lose? And he’d given me direction, so clearly he was open to communication. I swallowed hard. “Wait.”

He paused, a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong?”

I smiled, hoping my embarrassment didn’t show. “I thought you wanted to taste my pussy?” Oh God, did I really just say that? Inside, I was cringing, and I was certain that my face was cherry red.

Grinning, he set the condom back on the nightstand. “You got me so turned on, I nearly forgot.”

Oh my God, I thought as he kissed my inner thigh. It worked. It actually worked. Darren, I could kiss you. That thought gave me pause, distracting me momentarily from where I was. I really could have kissed Darren. I’d have fucked him given half the chance. I’d—

“Oh, Jesus,” I breathed as Marty’s tongue circled my clit. It was heavenly, absolutely heavenly.

For a few minutes, anyway. Then he slid his fingers into me and started thrusting, the pain jarring me out of any almost-orgasmic bliss. I pulled away a little. Shit. I didn’t want him to stop licking my clit, but what he was doing with his fingers hurt.

Darren’s ever-present voice of wisdom penetrated my consciousness again: Once you get him into bed, you’ve got to give him enough feedback to let him know if he’s doing the right thing.

I wetted my lips. “Easy,” I said. “With your fingers, go slower.”

The rhythm of his tongue’s rapid movements faltered, and I worried that I’d broken his concentration. His fingers slowed, but only slightly. He had long fingers, long enough to hit my cervix with room to spare, and even when he slowed down, it smarted each time.

“That—” I flinched. “Not so deep.”

The breath he released sounded annoyed, but he did pull his fingers out a little. It was enough to take the edge off, but it still wasn’t comfortable, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to get me off. I didn’t want to nag, though; what he did with his tongue was perfect, but his fingers were so distracting that I could barely feel it.

I gritted my teeth and tried not to let him hear my frustrated sigh. This was definitely not working. Time for something else. “Fuck me,” I said. I flinched at the sound of my own voice. I’d used crude language since grade school, but it was surreal to use it in bed, let alone as a request. But I swallowed hard and said, “I want you to fuck me.”

He lifted his head just long enough to say, “I want you to come first.” Then he was back to my clit.

I moaned, thankful he didn’t seem to catch the fact that it was out of frustration, not arousal. I was fairly certain that his tongue had a chance of getting me off before daylight, but not with what he was doing with his fingers. Well, this is as good a time as any to learn to ask for what I want. “Just your tongue,” I said, forcing back my insecurities. “I like what your tongue is doing.”

Still he fucked me with his fingers, and still it annoyed me. It was also starting to get painful again.

“Just use your tongue,” I said.

“Trust me, doll, I know what I’m doing,” he said.

And I know what it’s doing to me. I remembered the condom on the nightstand, and cringed. If he kept this up,

my pussy was going to be sore as hell.

I took a deep breath, careful to disguise it as a pleasurable sound, and faked it. I knew the drill: arch the back, tighten my pussy around his fingers, moan, the works. Every second of it made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew I shouldn’t have had to do it, and it aggravated and annoyed me to do it, but it did have the desired result: It got Marty’s fingers out of my pussy.

When he put the condom on, I whispered another silent prayer that he wasn’t a minute man. After his abysmal efforts at fingering, he had to be a good fuck. He had to be. He’s a phenomenal kisser, please don’t let him be stupid with his cock.

I got my wish. He wasn’t a minute man.

It must have been hours later when he finally came after fucking me in the same position at the exact same speed, all the while asking if I liked it but not doing a damned thing I suggested to make it more enjoyable.

With a sore pussy and a knot of aggravation tightening in my gut, I lay beside Marty and tried to sleep.  All the while, I wondered what I was doing wrong.

Help me out here, Darren, I haven’t got a fucking clue.

Four

“So how did it go with the latest Casanova?” Darren asked over the rim of his coffee cup as he watched me from across the kitchen counter.

I rolled my eyes. “About as well as it always does.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “My God, the man just insisted he knew what he was doing. He didn’t listen to a damned thing I said.”

“So what did he do?”

“Skewered the hell out of me with his fingers,” I grumbled. “Insisted he knew what he was doing, but I assure you, he did not.”

“Oh Jesus, it’s not like it’s difficult. Slow, shallow, bend the fingers a little.” He shook his head.

My breath caught. Darren, you bastard, you’re killing me. I quickly took a sip of coffee so he didn’t notice the way I was reacting. After I swallowed it, I said, “Anyway, he might have gotten me off with his tongue if he’d taken his hand out of the picture. Out of me, for that matter.”

“Did you suggest that to him?”

I nodded. “More than once. I think it was just annoying him, so I stopped. I didn’t want to nag.”

“Nag?” He snorted. “If he’s doing it wrong, he needs to either fix it or keep hearing about it until he does. Especially if it hurts.”

I shuddered. “It did.”

“If his fingers were hurting your pussy, he had no business being anywhere near your pussy.”

“It was a little late for that.”

He shrugged again. “Doesn’t mean he needed to keep doing it.”

“What was I supposed to do? Throw him out of bed?”

He shrugged, then looked at me and said matter-of-factly, “I would’ve.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, if he was hurting you and insisted he knew what he was doing, then yeah, call it off.” He sipped his coffee and gestured dismissively. “Life is too short for bad sex, particularly with someone who has no interest in improving it.”

I let out an annoyed hiss of breath. “Well, I don’t quite have the spine for that, I guess.”

“Not yet. But you will.” He raised an eyebrow. “So how did you finally get him to stop?”

“Faked an orgasm and let him fuck me.”

“Was he at least decent there?”

I groaned.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“I hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t be a minute man,” I said, glaring into my coffee cup. “Careful what you wish for, I guess. The man lasted all damned night.”

Darren set his coffee down and cocked his head. “So, what am I missing here?”

“He lasted all night.” I sipped my coffee “In the same position. At the same speed. All. Damned. Night.”

He grimaced. “Oh Jesus.”

“Exactly. I suggested a couple of different positions, but he insisted that he wanted it that way. Never mind what I wanted, he wanted it that way.”

He rolled his eyes. “Philistine.”

I thumbed the handle on my coffee cup. “Maybe I’m just not asking for the right things, or I’m not telling him the right way.”

“Well,” he said with a shrug. “I assume you’re speaking in the English language, and not using some sort of Womanese metaphors.”

“I thought I was being clear,” I laughed. “Maybe I’m not.”

“Have you tried, say, guiding his hands? You know, body language?”

“I’ve tried, but as soon as I let go of his hand, it goes right back where it was before.” I sighed and shook my head. “I swear I feel like a virgin leading the impotent sometimes.”

He laughed. “I just don’t get where you’re finding these men who don’t know what they’re doing. It’s not exactly rocket science. Any man who doesn’t take the time to make sure a woman is thoroughly satisfied is not worth getting into bed.”

And the more we talk about this, the more I want to get you into bed. I swallowed. “I don’t know. I can’t expect them to read my mind.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m not communicating it well enough. I mean, it’s just…weird…”

“Asking for what you want?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “What am I supposed to say? I feel like an ass when I try to put it into words.”

“Ah, that might be part of the problem, then,” he said.

I cocked my head. “What?”

“Lack of confidence.” He set his coffee down and ran a hand through his hair. “How is a guy supposed to know you want him to lick your clit if you can’t tell him?”

My cheeks were on fire then. What I wouldn’t have given for the confidence to ask him to do that very thing right then. I’d been attracted to him since time immemorial, but the more we talked about this, the more I learned how much he loved pleasing a woman, the more I wanted him. I sighed.

He smiled. “That’s what I thought.” He folded his hands on the counter and leaned forward. “You just have to get up the confidence to make it clear what you want. Does it embarrass you to have a man eat your pussy?”

I chewed my lip. He said it so matter-of-factly, so unabashedly. It shouldn’t have surprised me coming from him, but it wasn’t comfortable to discuss with anyone. I took a breath. “I don’t think any man has gone down on me long enough to embarrass me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Neanderthals.”  He looked at me again. “Really, though, if it doesn’t embarrass you to have him do something to you, why be embarrassed about asking him to do it?”

I wetted my lips and avoided his eyes. He was

absolutely right, but I didn’t know if that revelation would magically grant me the confidence to be able to ask for it.

“Honestly, Marisa,” he said. “Assuming you’re with a man who’s worth fucking, there probably isn’t much you can ask him to do that would surprise him or make him uncomfortable.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “If he’s worth fucking, then he wants to please you, and trust me, there is nothing more frustrating for a man than trying to please a woman and not getting any feedback one way or the other.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

He smiled. “Really, all you have to do is ask. If he won’t do it, then boot his ass out of bed and find someone who will.”

Like you? I sipped my coffee, rolling it around in my mouth as I rolled his words around in my head.

“I’ve been with a few women who had a hard time with this,” he said.

You don’t say. “Really?”

He nodded. “One girl, she just couldn’t bring herself to ask for anything, and I wasn’t getting anywhere with her. We were both getting frustrated as hell.” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “Finally, I told her, ‘I want to please you, but you’ve got to give me some feedback so I know if I’m doing the right thing.’” He shrugged. “So she told me. It took a while, but she started talking more.”

“And it got better?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “After that, it was incredible.”

“Lucky woman,” I said with a laugh.

He shook his head. “Not lucky. Communicative. She told me what she wanted, and I gave it to her.” He paused for a second. "I do that with every woman. I’m not a mind reader, so she has to tell me what she wants.”

“Does it really vary that much? From woman to woman?”

“Absolutely. And from night to night with the same woman. Sometimes she wants a man to make love to her. Sometimes she wants to be thrown around and fucked within an inch of her life. I just let her tell me—implicitly or explicitly—what she wants. And I give it to her.”

Darren, you’re killing me. “Sounds like some of the men I’ve dated could use a few lessons from you.”

He chuckled. “No, they need lessons from you.”

“Fair enough.”

“It’s just a confidence thing,” he said. “You’ll get it. You have to learn to be a bit shameless. Don't be embarrassed of your own desires. Sex means getting vulnerable with another person just as much as it means asking them to be vulnerable with you; if you can't ask for what you want, then what's the point?"

"True." There was a long pause. Get a little bit shameless, you say? My heart pounded. Did I dare? Then I looked him in the eye and the words were out before I could think twice. "So what if I said I wanted you?"

Five

Darren took in a sharp breath, but held my gaze.

My words hung in the air between us. No taking it back now. I held my breath, waiting for him to respond.

Finally, he said, "I'd say it's cruel to tease."

I swallowed. My heart thundered in my chest. "And what if I said I wasn't teasing?"

He didn't speak for a moment. I wondered if I'd gone too far, if I'd crossed a line. He wanted me to be brazen, to ask for what I wanted, but had I gone too far?

I avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I’m—”

The sound of the barstool moving on the linoleum floor silenced me. I knew he had risen, but I couldn’t look at him. I thought he was going to pick up his coat and head for the door, that I'd just done irreparable damage to our friendship, that—

He came towards me. I resisted the urge to back away from him, from the sheer weight of his presence closing in on me. His hand came to rest on my hip, the unfamiliar contact taking my breath away. I looked up at him then, unable to breathe as I met his piercing blue eyes. He wetted his lips.

“You’re serious?” he whispered.

I nodded.

"Are you sure?" The words came out as a low growl.

I pretended I was calm and collected, that I wasn't more nervous than I'd ever been in my life. "Yes."

His hand slid around my waist and his other went to my face. "Good."

He didn't pull me to him. Instead, he came to me, pressing his lips to mine in the same instant that his entire body came in contact with mine. He rested his hand on the small of my back, running his other through my hair as his tongue gently parted my lips.

Darren’s kiss took my breath away. He didn’t try to ram his tongue as far down my throat as he could like other men often did. Instead, he let his intertwine with mine, gently, politely even, as if the object was to feel and taste me instead of gag me. His lips were insistent against mine, but not demanding.

And it wasn’t just his mouth: His fingers ran through my hair while the hand on the small of my back pressed into my flesh, pulling me closer to him. His kiss was truly a full body experience.

I lost track of time as we stood there in each other's arms, kissing like nothing else in the world mattered. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. We were silent, just looking at each other, holding each other.

He ran his tongue across his lips, as if trying to catch every last lingering taste of my kiss.

“So, is my kiss telling you anything?”

I shivered. “Yes.”

His hand went from my hair to the side of my neck, his fingertips feather light against my skin. “And what is it telling you?”

“That I should kiss you again.”

“Funny,” he whispered, drawing me closer. “Yours was telling me the same thing.” And time again stood still as his lips gently embraced mine. He drew my tongue into his mouth and let his own slide past mine, all the while trailing his fingertips around the back of my neck and into my hair.

After an eternity, he broke the kiss, but his lips were still almost close enough to taste. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. The entire English language was suddenly lost on me. If I’d ever had difficulty telling a man what I wanted, it was a Herculean task now. Each breath he took whispered across my skin and kept me speechless.

“Whatever you want,” he said. “Say the word.”

But I couldn’t speak. Instead, I gently freed myself from his embrace, took his hand, and led him into the bedroom. As soon as we were through the door, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His hands slid under my shirt and I gasped as his fingers touched my skin; for as intimate as our friendship was, it had never been physically intimate, and crossing this line with him was surreal.

He lifted my blouse over my head and let it fall to the floor as he bent to kiss my neck. The soft warmth of his lips was exquisite, brushing against my skin here, lingering there, finding all the secret sensitive places on my neck and shoulders that I never knew existed. My knees weakened and I held onto him for balance.

He put his hand on the small of my back and pulled me against him. He was rock hard and, from what I could feel, definitely not lacking in size. I moaned softly just before he kissed my mouth.

I wanted to feel his skin, his body. This contact was overwhelming, but still I wanted his entire body against me. I tugged at his shirt. With a quick motion, he pulled it off and dropped it before he pulled me into another long, hungry kiss. The heat of his skin sent a shiver down my spine. I grasped his bare shoulders, his arms, his narrow waist, anywhere I could put my hands. I wanted to touch him everywhere. I wanted to taste him everywhere.

Stepping back, he reached for his belt. I didn't need any further hinting and quickly got out of my own remaining clothes, my eyes never leaving his body as he undressed. I'd always known he had an attractive body, but I didn't know about the six-pack lurking underneath his shirt. It was almost an eight-pack from the looks of it. I don't think the man had an ounce of fat on him; he was nothing but lean muscle. Fit, sculpted, toned, gorgeous lean muscle.

And his cock. Holy hell, my first impression was certainly accurate: He was not lacking in any way.

He put his hands on my waist and kissed me as he guided me towards the bed. He touched my face and looked into my eyes. “So you say no man has ever been worth a damn going down on you?”

The thought of his mouth on my pussy made my head spin. “Never.”

He grinned. “I think it’s time to remedy that,” he said as he lowered me onto the bed. Gently pushing my knees apart, he knelt in front of me. His lips touched the inside of my knee, raising gooseflesh all over my body as he kissed his way up my thigh.

My head was spinning by the time he reached the top of my thigh, and I realized I’d forgotten to breathe at all. I exhaled and an instant later, gasped as the warmth of his mouth touched my pussy.

His tongue explored my pussy the same way it did my mouth: Gently, slowly, tasting me. Savoring me. He closed his lips around my clit, softly running his tongue over it a few times before circling it. My fingers clawed at the sheets and my entire body seized.

His mouth broke contact just long enough for him to say, “My God, you taste like heaven.”

I moaned as he continued devouring me and he released a growl, his voice vibrating against my clit. I gasped and closed my eyes. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, his fingertips gently teased me, then slipped inside.

“Holy…shit…” I breathed.

He looked up at me and grinned, his fingers sliding slowly in and out of my pussy. “And did I hear you say no man has ever found your G-spot?”

I could barely breathe. Even in my delirious, intoxicated state, I could read between the lines. I whispered, “Never.” And I knew full well that he was about to change that. I shivered.

“Pity,” he whispered, kissing my thigh gently before descending onto my clit again. He overwhelmed me, he made everything in the world revolve around what he was doing with his fingers and tongue. I couldn’t believe that it was possible for anything to feel so incredible. I couldn’t help the long moan that escaped my lips, and I was far too aroused to even think of being embarrassed, especially as he crooked his fingers and –

“Oh my God!” I cried, gripping the sheets and arching my back.

He laughed. “Found it,” he murmured, then circled my clit with his tongue again.

I’d had orgasms before. I knew what the icy-hot lightning bolts and rippling shudders felt like. But I’d never

felt anything like this.

My breath—and a cry that I’m sure would have been heard for miles around—lodged in my throat. Every muscle in my body trembled and I gripped the sheets for dear life as he pushed me higher and higher, as oblivion took over, and I saw white as I surrendered to an orgasm beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

When it became too much, I begged him to stop and Darren released my clit, but he didn’t withdraw his fingers yet. He came up and kissed me, his tongue sweet with the taste of my pussy. I tried to speak, but he moved his fingers inside me, taking my breath away.

“Cat got your tongue?” he said, kissing me gently.

Again I tried to speak, and again he distracted me. Finally, I bit my lip and gripped his shoulders. “Fuck me, now.”

He laughed, withdrawing his fingers slowly. Then he paused, his brow furrowing for a second. “Fuck,” he said. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”

I swallowed, trying to think in spite of my orgasm-induced fog. “Dresser,” I said. “Top drawer.”

He smiled. “Thank God,” he said. “I’d hate to have to put this off to make a run to the drugstore.” He kissed me gently and went to the dresser. I would have gotten them myself, but my legs were shaking too badly to stand, let alone walk.

He took one condom out of the box and tossed the rest onto my nightstand. He grinned. “Just in case we need more than one.” I blinked. He glanced at me as he put the condom on. A look of surprise crossed his face, then he rolled his eyes, “Christ, don’t tell me you’ve never been with a man who can go more than once.”

I laughed and nodded.

He got back into bed with me and kissed me as I wrapped my legs around him. “I can’t imagine how any man could only come once with you,” he growled. “With as turned on as I am right now, you’re not going to be sleeping tonight.” He didn’t give me a chance to process that particular promise before he thrust inside me. We both gasped. He closed his eyes and exhaled against my neck.

“Like that?” he whispered.

“I love it,” I said.

I clung to his shoulders, trying to remember how to breathe as my pussy yielded to him. He took long, slow strokes, and my head spun. The aftershocks of my orgasm still pulsed within me, and each thrust ignited more and more. How long he fucked me like that, I couldn’t say, and I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to him to stop.

He kissed me. “Why don’t you get on top?”

I nodded, not mentioning that I’d only been on top a handful of times. He pulled out slowly and we switched positions.

It took a moment to get accustomed to riding him. I rested most of my weight on my arms, moving my hips as steadily and rhythmically as I could. I avoided his eyes at first, terrified that I was revealing my inexperience, but a soft hiss of breath drew my attention to his face. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. He put his hands on my hips, raising himself to meet me each time I came down.

“God, that’s good.” He looked at me, his eyes half-closed.

My arms shook as I tried to keep my balance.

“Lean back, so you’re sitting up.”

I did, grateful for the relief for my arms. He closed his eyes again. “Fuck, you feel perfect.” He released a soft groan, then looked at me, his lip curling into a grin. “Enjoying yourself?”

I moaned softly and nodded. He tightened his grasp on my hips and thrust upward, knocking the breath out of me.

“You look absolutely amazing from this angle,” he said through his teeth. “And something tells me you’d look even more amazing in the throes of an orgasm.” One hand let go of my hip for a second, and he licked the tip of his thumb. I eyed him, puzzled, as his hand returned to my hip and he gave me a dirty grin just as his thumb gently circled my clit.

“Oh my God,” I said, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back. I could barely concentrate on any kind of rhythm anymore, but he didn’t seem to mind. He kept raising his hips to meet mine, moving in time with the gentle circles his thumb drew on my clit. My pussy tightened and I whimpered as he drove me closer to yet another climax.

“That’s perfect,” he groaned. “Come with my cock inside you. I want to feel you come.”

I moaned and leaned back a little more, giving him better access to my clit, which he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of. I rocked against him, pushing my clit against his thumb and at the same time, driving his cock deeper inside me.

“Oh yeah,” he breathed, the tautness in his voice echoing the intensity building in me. “Fuck, yes…”

All at once, a powerful orgasm exploded inside me. I lost my balance and fell forward, but he held me steady as he rammed his cock into me from below, sending me into orbit and beyond as his body rubbed my clit and his cock hit my G-spot.

I didn’t even have a chance to come back to Earth before Darren grabbed me and threw me on my back. He fucked me hard and fast, pounding me right through the aftershocks of my orgasm. I lost all sense of time and place. Nothing existed beyond his flesh and mine, nothing mattered except the explosive sensations he unleashed within me.

Darren’s breath caught. His brow furrowed and he exhaled through clenched teeth, his biceps and shoulders rippling, the cords in his neck standing out as he fucked me harder and harder. Just as he looked like he was on the edge, I tightened my pussy around his cock and rocked my hips back.

His eyes flew open and he gasped. “Oh Jesus…” I did it again, then again, until he slammed his cock all the way inside me and groaned.

He was still for a moment, his eyes closed and his body trembling against mine. Finally, he looked up. He rested his weight on one elbow and touched my face gently. “I told you sex wasn’t overrated,” he said.

I laughed. “Evidently I just haven’t been with the right men.”

Six

We both rolled onto our sides, facing each other. Neither of us spoke for a while.

In spite of the delirious afterglow of an amazing fuck, a knot wound in my gut. Though I had wanted Darren for a long time, I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I wasn’t quite sure where to go from here. The sex was better than I could have imagined, but what about our friendship?

Darren’s voice startled me. “What’s on your mind?”

I pursed my lips. “I’m just trying to figure out…” I trailed off.

“Where we go from here?”

I blinked. “Yeah, actually.”

He smiled and touched my face gently. “I figured.” Then his smile fell. “I was thinking about the same thing.”

“So,” I said. “Where do we go from here?”

“Well,” he said, pursing his lips. “I don’t want to change our friendship.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“Not necessarily.” He ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, we’ve moved into some uncharted territory, but it’s still just you and me.”

“This could,” I paused. “Complicate things.”

“It doesn’t have to. There’s nothing that says we have to get emotionally involved just because we’re physically involved now.” He smiled. “We’ve got a really great friendship, and I don’t want to lose that or change it. But,” his smile turned to a filthy grin. “I have to admit I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

I laughed. “I certainly wouldn’t object to that.” I chewed my lip. “But I can’t say I’ve ever done anything like this before.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “I have an idea.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Neither of us wants this to become anything serious, right?”

“Right.”

“And you want to learn to come out of your shell, sexually, right?”

I nodded.

He ran his fingers through my hair. “Why don’t we keep it casual, then? Still friends, just like always, but I’ll help you come out of your shell.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re going to teach me how to have sex?”

He laughed. “No. You obviously know how to have sex. Quite well, I might add.”  He kissed me gently. “I’m going to teach you how to enjoy sex.”

“Obviously I do enjoy it. I’m still tingling from everything you did to me.”

He grinned and kissed me again. “But I can help you learn to get what you want from other guys.” He shrugged. “We’re both free to fuck other people. No strings, no commitment, just friends with benefits.”

I considered his words for a moment, furrowing my brow and chewing my lip. “So, what happens if one of us does get serious with someone else?” I paused. “Or if John and I decide to give our marriage another shot?”

“Then we kick the ‘benefits’ part and stay friends.”

“It’s that simple?”

“Why not?” he said. “It’s just sex, Marisa. I know people get hung up on sex and love, as if the two are completely inseparable, but they’re not.” He trailed his fingers up and down my arm. “And if either of us decides we aren’t comfortable with it anymore, it stops. As long as we are honest with each other, there’s no reason we can’t have a physical relationship and a friendship.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Most people don’t.” He cocked his head. “Do you have any objection to sleeping with me, knowing that I may be

sleeping with other women?”

I thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t.”

“And I don’t have any issue with you doing the same.”

“You don’t mind me sleeping with other women?”

He grinned. “Absolutely not. In fact, I’d encourage that.”

“Pervert.”

He laughed. “And to think, before today, you thought I was a decent, respectable member of society.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. I’ve never thought that about you.”

“Well good,” he said with a smirk. “Then your expectations of me are completely realistic.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“That shouldn’t surprise you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He slid an arm around my waist and pulled himself closer to me. “Would it surprise you if I told you I wanted to fuck you again?”

I blinked. “Already?”

He kissed me, pressed his hips against mine, and silently answered my question in no uncertain terms.

Seven

A stack of manila folders dropped onto my desk beside my keyboard and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I didn’t need to turn around to know who was responsible for the file folder ambush. Trudy, the purchasing manager, seemed to delight in startling the hell out of me every time she gave me paperwork.

I gritted my teeth and said over my shoulder, “When do you need them?”

“Before the end of the day.” Her snappy, impatient tone grated my nerves, just as it had every single day of the long, long five years we’d worked together.

“I’ll do what I can.”

An irritated sniff. “I need them by tomorrow’s nine o’clock meeting.”

My chest tightened. Every week, we went through this. Every week, she waited until the day before the meeting to give me the documents to reconcile with our departments’ reports before her meeting with the company’s brass. Every. Damned. Week.

A million retorts of “then don’t give them to me at the last Goddamned minute” and “piss poor planning on your part is not an emergency on mine” ran through my mind, but I did as I always did and quietly said, “I’ll have them to you by five.”

“Good.” And she was gone.

I rubbed my eyes and released a breath through my teeth. Trudy was the office harpy, the one whose sole purpose in life was to make co-workers miserable. That wasn’t entirely true: She picked one co-worker to wreak havoc upon, and for the last five years, I had been the lucky winner. Every time someone new was hired on, in any department, I secretly hoped that Trudy would shift her sights over to that person, but it never happened. Neither of our bosses seemed to care. I was too much of a wimp to take it up with Human Resources, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to confront Trudy herself.

Dear Santa, please bring me a spine this year. I don’t think I can put up with her for another year.

I sighed and tried to get back to the e-mail I’d been composing to send to several of the outside sales reps, letting them know I needed their expense reports and several other financial documents before month’s end. I reread what I’d already written. Couldn’t comprehend my own words.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes again. Trudy’s bullshit aside, I was just too damned tired. I couldn’t complain about that, though. Sure, I’d been up until almost three in the morning, but it was worth it. Well worth it.

A grin spread across my lips in spite of my fatigue and frustration. I gave the stack of file folders a flippant glare, picked up my almost-empty coffee cup, and went to the break room for a refill.

From halfway down the hall, I could hear the familiar voices of the gossip mill in the break room. I rolled my eyes. Supposedly, these women—affectionately called “The Millers”—actually had jobs to do, but I swore they were always gathered around the coffee pot, discussing the latest sins of everyone in the company.

I usually felt more or less invisible to the Millers. I’m sure they’d caught wind of my separation, but maybe they just didn’t think it was worth discussing. As I walked into the break room, though, I suddenly felt uncomfortably conspicuous. My cheeks burned and I dropped my gaze, biting my lip as I walked past the group to pour myself a cup of coffee.

The rational side of me knew there was no way they could know about what I had done with Darren the night before or the unusual arrangement we’d agreed upon, but in the back of my mind I also knew that these women could sniff out gossip in a church choir. The NSA could have learned a thing or two from them. If there was gossip to be had, they would find it.

Sure, Darren and I were unattached, consenting adults, but the Millers frowned upon casual sex. Oh, what they would have thought if they found out that I’d spent most of the previous night having sizzling hot sex with my best friend before agreeing to let him take me under his wing like a sexual apprentice, with both of us intending to have copious amounts of wild sex with other people in the foreseeable future.

I filled my coffee and got the hell out of the break room. I felt more than a little ridiculous even worrying about it; they were certainly not the moral authority of the company, but the reality was that if the Millers found out about something, the whole company would know about it. I had enough crap to deal with without everyone and their mother knowing my sexual misdeeds.

As ridiculous as I felt, I made a quick exit, avoiding their scrutinizing eyes as I did. It was as if all I had to do was look one of them in the eye for a moment too long, and they’d know.

The minute I stepped out of the break room, though, I forgot all about the Millers.

A short distance down the hallway, leaning against a cubicle wall and chatting with one of the receptionists, was Max Gordon. He was one of the regional sales representatives, and only came into the office two or three times a month, usually to meet with one of the brass or—as I realized with a nervous tingle in my gut—me.

His hips were twisted slightly to one side as he leaned on his elbow on the cubicle wall. His other hand rested on his hip, pushing his leather jacket back and drawing my attention to the way his jeans clung to his gorgeous ass. He obviously wasn’t meeting any clients today if he was dressed so casually, and I didn’t mind at all. When he came to my desk for our meeting, he’d shed the leather jacket as he always did, and I wouldn’t be able to focus. Not with the way his broad shoulders filled out the polo shirt I was certain he was wearing, which they did just as well as they did a dress shirt or a sport coat. What I wouldn’t have given to touch those shoulders.

His face was turned just enough that I couldn’t see it, but it didn’t make a difference. I’d long since memorized his thin-lipped smile, his rugged and perpetually stubbled jaw line, and his arresting green eyes.

I walked past him and tried not to trip over my own feet as I caught a whiff of his familiar, mouthwatering smell—a vague hint of cigarette smoke beneath the suggestion of an enticing cologne.

He didn’t notice me, or at least he didn’t acknowledge me, which wasn’t unusual. I was fairly certain his attention was focused down the front of the new receptionist’s plunging neckline. If the Millers were to be believed, Max had bedded more than a few of the receptionists that had gone through the company since he’d been here.

And what I wouldn’t have given to be another notch in that man’s bedpost.

I went back to my desk and tried to stay busy and focused until my meeting with him.

“Hey Marisa.” His voice raised goosebumps under my clothes as his presence filled my tiny cubicle.

“Hey Max,” I said, shuffling some papers aside. I caught that familiar scent, along with the hint of leather from his jacket and—oh shit, Max, you’re killing me—the vague smell of mint. You just have to chew gum today, don’t you? I hated when he chewed gum. Well, that wasn’t true. I loved it. I loved the way his jaw moved. The way his tongue played with his gum behind closed lips when he was thinking always drew my attention to his mouth and made me wonder what else he could do with his tongue.

I loved it when Max Gordon chewed gum. I just hated the fact that when he did, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

I heard the soft rustle of his jacket sliding off of his shirt, then the zipper bumped the cubicle wall as he hung the jacket on the corner as he always did. I took in a long breath through my nose. Please God, tell me he didn’t wear the white polo today. Please. Please. Please.

He dropped into the chair beside me, and I sent up a silent “damn it” as I looked at him. He looked good in anything, but this particular shirt was just thin enough—and stretched tight enough—to let the vague shadows of his tattoos show through beneath the sleeves. I loved ink on a man, and I’d been tempted more than once to ask to see them, but I just didn’t have the guts to.

“Marisa?”

My head snapped up and I silently cursed the burning in my cheeks. “Sorry. Um. Where were we?”

He laughed, rolling his gum around in his mouth and driving me insane. “I think you had a question about my figures for last month.”

I took a breath, pulled out the paperwork in question, and tried like hell to concentrate.

Eight

There is no way in hell I could have ever convinced John to set foot in a lingerie store, particularly one like Undertones.

Darren, however, strode right past the “This ain’t your Grandma’s bra store” sign without batting an eye, his hand on my elbow just in case I suddenly chickened out and ran. He paused near the entrance and looked around, pursing his lips, then nodded towards the back of the store. “This way.”

“Darren, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this isn’t the first time you’ve been here,” I said as I followed him past racks of lace and satin.

He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me. “Never been here in my life,” he said with a grin that told me otherwise.

“Liar.”

He laughed. “I’ve been here a few times. My last girlfriend liked to let me pick out my own birthday presents.”

I snickered. “For her to wear, or you?”

“I’ve been known to wear a thing or two from here.” He stopped in front of a rack of garters, then glanced at me and laughed. “Not this kind of thing. Over there.” He gestured across the store. I turned and made a silent “oh” with my mouth as I caught sight of a section of apparel made of various types of leather and metal.

“I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing,” I said.

“I’m full of surprises.”

I glanced at the BDSM section again, then back at Darren. I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Instead, I gestured with my chin towards the garters that had caught his eye. “So, what am I looking for?”

“Something sexy,” he said, rubbing his chin idly with his thumb and forefinger as he surveyed the racks.

I rolled my eyes. “Could you narrow it down just a little bit? Everything here is some degree of sexy.”

He snorted. “Please. I want you to look sexy, not trashy. Ah, here we go.” He pulled a scarlet red garter and matching bra off a rack. “Perfect.”

I swallowed. “I assume I’m supposed to wear something with that, right?”

He looked at it, then at me, and shrugged. “Well, you’d want to wear some thigh-high pantyhose with it.” He laughed at the incredulous look on my face. “All of it’s under your clothes.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I said. “I’ve just, I’ve never worn anything like that.”

“And you’ll look great in it.”

He picked out several other combinations for me, then sent me into the dressing room to try them on.

Alone in the cramped dressing room, I took off my shirt and tried on the first bra. It was black, lacy, and showed more of my breasts than it covered. It looked like it should be uncomfortable as hell because I expected the lace to be scratchy and the narrow straps to bite into my shoulders, but it wasn’t.

I tried on several of the others, keeping or rejecting various pieces. For a moment, I scrutinized the ones I had chosen. I wondered if I dared wear something like that to work. Of course no one would see it, but I wondered if I’d feel different. Slutty? Sexy?

Knowing my luck, though, that would be the day I got into a car accident and gave the paramedics an eyeful. I shuddered at the thought. No, I decided I’d keep these little surprises to myself. And Darren.

I hung the rejects outside the dressing room and walked out to find Darren.

“Hey, Marisa,” he called from halfway across the store. I turned towards his voice just in time to see him hold a bright purple negligee against his body and strike a pose. “What do you think? Is it me?”  He tossed his hair

dramatically.

I burst out laughing, as did several other people in the store. Darren snickered and hung the negligee back on the rack before joining me by the dressing room. “So,” he said. “Show me the keepers.”

I held up the red garter and bra, a similar ensemble in blue, and a couple of lacy bras. He nodded with approval, then gave me a sly grin. “There’s one more thing I want you to try.”

“I’m not wearing a gimp mask,” I said.

He pretended to pout. “Well, damn it, there goes my plan for tomorrow night.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

My joke proved to be well-timed as he led me towards the leather-and-metal section he’d pointed at earlier. “I’m serious,” I said. “No gimp mask.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not what I have in mind.”

I was almost afraid to ask what he did have in mind. He disappeared amidst the racks of flogs, harnesses, and more than a few things I couldn’t possibly identify.

A second later, he returned, holding up two hangers. My lips parted in surprise. “A corset?”

He nodded. “Give it a try. You’ll look amazing in one.”

I stared at the black leather corsets for a moment, trying to figure out how I was supposed to put the damned things on, let alone breathe in them. They looked uncomfortable as hell. One was made of a soft, matte leather, the center lined with two rows of silver D-rings through which the leather laces were intertwined. The other was glossy patent leather with a wide zipper running up the front.

“Just try them,” he said. “If you don’t like them, don’t get them. But at least give them a try.”

I pursed my lips, then let out a breath and we traded hangers. On the way back to the dressing room, I marveled at just how heavy the corsets were. I couldn’t imagine they were any less cumbersome once they were on, but I’d give Darren the benefit of the doubt.

I took off my shirt and bra and scowled at the first corset, the one with the laces and D-rings. “Let’s start out simple, shall we?” I muttered. I unzipped the other corset and pulled it around myself. After some circus-worthy contortions and more than a little cursing, I got the thing on and zipped.

I looked in the mirror and took a breath. Well, I tried to take a breath. It wasn’t the most forgiving article of clothing I’d ever worn, and it didn’t allow for much more than shallow breaths.

Admittedly, I liked what it did to my figure. There is nothing quite like a corset to add a little curve to a woman’s waist, and it made my breasts look at least a cup size bigger.

But it wasn’t me. Something like this was intended for the kind of woman who was unashamed of her sexuality, who didn’t care if the neighbors heard her screaming, and didn’t bother to ask for what she wanted: She told her man what she wanted and she damn well better get it.

I let out a breath, my shoulders slumping slightly, the top of the corset biting into the bottoms of my shoulder blades. No, this was definitely not me.

I took it off, savoring the first couple of deep breaths I could finally draw before I put my own clothes back on.

Darren cocked his head as I stepped out of the dressing room with the two corsets still securely on their hangers. “Don’t I get to see them on you?”

I shook my head. “They’re not me.”

He didn’t object, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes. “Well, they’re here if you ever change your mind.”

I smiled. “We’ll see about that.” I nodded towards the exotic lingerie I’d already agreed to buy. “I think that’s enough for me for one day.”

“We should take them back to my place,” he said.

I glanced at him as I hung the corsets on the reject rack. “Why? So you can wear them?”

He put his hands on my hips and kissed just behind my ear. “No. So you can.”

Nine

On Saturday afternoon, Darren and I went to a baseball game with his brother, Eric. When we got into the stands—about as far into the nosebleed section as we could get without requiring oxygen tanks—Eric was already there. We exchanged greetings and took our seats, the brothers sitting on either side of me.

I hadn’t seen Eric since the first time I slept with Darren, and I caught myself casting surreptitious glances at both of them as the game started. I’d been attracted to Eric for as long as I’d been attracted to Darren, and getting into bed with one had only intensified my curiosity about the other. Darren was better in bed than I’d ever imagined, and I couldn’t help wondering how Eric would compare to the Eric who frequently appeared in my fantasies.

The resemblance between the pair was as striking as the contrast. They were anything but twins, but undeniably brothers. They had the same chiseled jaw and prominent cheekbones, and Eric's green eyes had all the same intensity as Darren's blue ones. Their dark hair was cut almost exactly the same, though Eric’s was never kept quite as meticulously as his brother’s.

But while Darren struck an intriguing balance between masculine and feminine, Eric was all man. His broad shoulders were tattooed, as were his biceps. Smoking had roughened his voice, but that roughness suited him in the same way his rarely-shaved jaw did.

He wasn't classically handsome, he wasn't beautiful like his brother, but my God, the man radiated sex from every pore of his rugged body. He was masculinity personified.

Some men seem to hide a layer of unbridled lust, of filthy, bed-breaking sexuality, just beneath the surface. Their eyes suggest that if the right words are spoken or the right touch is made, a woman can unleash a man so deliciously dirty that he’ll have her screaming in no time flat.

Eric was just such a man: The way his eyes narrowed when he grinned. The way he lifted his eyebrows when he spoke. He didn’t bother to hide that layer of unbridled lust, though. If anything, he wore it like a badge of honor.

He glanced at me and I realized I’d been staring. He smiled, sending a shiver up my spine. I bit my lip and tried to focus my attention on the game that went on far, far below us, but all I could think about was the brothers on either side of me.

Darren had certainly not been a disappointment in bed, and more than ever, I wanted to know what Eric was like. He had to be as good as Darren. Maybe even better. What a cruel joke it would be for a man to be that palpably sexy but a dud in bed. If he was anything like his brother, he would probably make me burst into flames.

I couldn’t imagine how I’d go about getting him into bed, though. They lived together, which made locations somewhat complicated. On one hand, Darren and I were just casual lovers, so I was free to sleep with whomever else I chose. On the other, I was fairly certain that they would both balk at fucking the same woman.

An image of fucking both of them at the same time flickered through my mind. My mouth watered. I’d always thought a threesome with two men would be hot, but Eric and Darren? I’d have sold my soul for something that hot.

“Eric, check that out,” Darren said in a conspiratorial whisper, bringing my attention back to the present.

“What?” Eric said, leaning forward.

Darren gestured a few rows down. “The girl with the pretzels.”

Eric and I both looked in the direction he pointed, and I rolled my eyes as I saw the girl selling soft pretzels. She was Barbie doll cute: big breasts, blonde hair, long legs. Definitely Eric’s type.

“Oh damn,” Eric said, taking in a hiss of breath. “Now she is hot.” He looked at Darren. “I’ve got a twenty that says I can get her number.”

“You’re on,” Darren said. They each pulled a twenty out of their wallets and handed them to me. I laughed and shook my head. This was pretty much a tradition at every game; hardly an inning passed that the brothers didn’t make some sort of ridiculous, good-natured bet that resulted in me holding the ante until the bet was won.

Eric shoved his wallet into his back pocket as he got up. The row of seats in front of us was empty, so he jumped over the back of one seat and started out of the stands.

“This should be entertaining,” I said.

“It always is,” Darren replied. We watched Eric bound down the steps and approach the girl. They exchanged pleasantries and gestures over the bags of pretzels, and Eric pulled his wallet out of his pocket as the girl plucked three bags from the case.

“If she knocks him back, I’m going to laugh while he eats his three pretzels of shame,” I said, barely keeping myself from cracking up.

“Pretzels of shame,” Darren snorted, shaking his head.

Eric paid, took the pretzels, but made no move to leave. He laid on his charm, and he laid it on thick. It always amazed me how easily he could go from rough-around-the-edges to almost boyishly adorable with just the right curl of his lip and shift of his eyebrows. Her smile broadened and the sudden color in her cheeks was visible even from where we sat.

“Eric Knight is up to bat,” Darren whispered in a mock-announcer voice. “He’s got her attention…he’s bought her pretzels…he’s testing the water…he’s complimenting her shoes…” He paused. Eric was saying something. Darren said, “And he goes for the pick-up line. Here comes the pitch, he swings, and-oh no!” We both stifled laughter as the girl gave an apologetic shrug and showed him her left hand. The stadium lights caught the ring just enough to let us see it sparkle. Darren snickered. “And Knight strikes out again.”

I struggled to contain my laughter and put on a sympathetic face as Eric came back up to our seats, pretzels in hand.

“Most expensive damned pretzels I’ve ever bought,” he muttered, shaking his head. He took one for himself and held the others out to us as he returned to his seat.

“No thanks,” I said.

“Bro, those pretzels of shame are all yours,” Darren said. I lost it. So did Darren.

“Pretzels of shame?” Eric said, trying unsuccessfully to sound disgusted. “Fuck you both.”

I handed Darren the twenties and glanced down at the pretzel girl just in time to see her look up at Eric. She was still blushing, a wide grin on her face. Then, she went back to selling her pretzels.

Her loss, I thought.

Ten

Lying in bed, after we’d caught our breath, Darren kissed me and whispered, “You look like you’re thinking about something.”

My face burned. “You could say that.”

His smile fell and he cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

“What? No, no, definitely not, I just…” I trailed off, then took a breath. “I’ve just been thinking about…” Oh come on, just say it. I looked him in the eye. “Have you ever had a threesome?”

His eyebrows jumped slightly. Then he nodded. “I have, yes.”

“Really?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

He flashed me a toothy grin. “Been doing a little fantasizing?”

My cheeks were on fire, so there was no point in denying it. I shrugged and laughed. “I’ve always thought it would be interesting.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “It is. It definitely is.”

I regarded him silently for a second, then said, “So if I wanted you to join me for a threesome, you’d do it?”

“Depends on the third person,” he said. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to it on principle, no.”

“And if the other person was a man?”

“Depends on the guy,” he said without hesitation. “I mean, I’m not into guys, so I wouldn’t be doing anything to him, but if you wanted to have two guys paying attention to you…” He grinned. “I’m certainly not opposed to that.”

“Duly noted,” I said. “Now I just have to find another guy.”

“Good luck,” he chuckled. “Some guys really don’t dig the idea of being naked in the same bed with another guy, even if there’s a woman between them.”

I wonder what you would think about being naked in the same bed with your brother, even with a woman between you. The thought made me snicker.

“What?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Nothing.”

“It had to be something,” he said. “Come on, tell me.”

There’s no way in hell I’m telling you that, not tonight. “Just picturing two guys freaking out if they bumped into each other.”

He laughed aloud. “It happens. But if you get a couple of guys to agree to a threesome, one would hope they could be adults about it. It’s not like other guys have cooties.”

I laughed. “Well, I’m going to hold you to this. When I find a willing third party, that is.”

He smiled and kissed me. “Like I said, it depends on the guy. But if he’s cool, hell yeah, I’d do that for you.”

“So you don’t mind sharing?” I teased.

He snorted. “Yeah right. Mr. Possessive, that’s me.” We both laughed. Then he ran his fingers through my hair. “And to be honest, I think it would be hot.”

“You would?”

“Absolutely. Seeing you get railed by another guy? Watching you getting that turned on?” He released a breath. “Yeah, it would be fucking beautiful.”

I grinned. “And here I thought I would have to twist your arm into doing it.”

“Not at all,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me again. “Are you sure you don’t have any friends you could call tonight?”

Is your brother home? “I’m afraid I haven’t approached this with anyone else yet.”

“Damn,” he whispered. He put his arms around me and kissed me. “I guess I’ll have to take care of you myself tonight.”

Eleven

Well, here goes, I thought as Will and I got into a cab to go back to his place. As we kissed in the backseat, barely keeping ourselves from tearing each other’s clothes off right there in the taxi, I prayed that he wasn’t a dud in the sack. Now that I knew what good sex—no, sizzling hot great sex— was like, I just couldn’t deal with another night of sexual idiocy.

I met Will at the same club in which I’d met Marty. He didn’t stir quite the same cravings in me that Darren and his brother did, but he was attractive: A dimpled smile that preceded a deep, attentive kiss. Expressive grey eyes that alternated between boyishly cute and devilishly devious. Broad shoulders—tattooed by the looks of it—that just begged to be gripped during the throes of an orgasm.

“I can’t wait to taste your pussy,” he growled as the cab pulled into his drive.

I shivered. Please let him be good at it. Please, for the love of God. Will paid the cab driver and fumbled with his house key. I kissed his neck and ran my hand over the front of his jeans. He sucked in a breath, sliding an arm around my waist as he struggled to get the door unlocked. He cursed under his breath, but the key finally cooperated.

In his bedroom, he released his grasp on me and went about taking off his own clothes. I took his cue and did the same. To my great delight, his shoulders were indeed tattooed. My mouth watered; I loved ink, and he had no shortage of it. His shoulders and upper arms were covered with various designs, some hinting at a military past, others appearing to be tribal in nature. To my surprise, he also had a large tattoo of a howling wolf on his right hip, and my hand was immediately drawn to it, needing to touch its soft ridges. He pulled me into a kiss as I ran my fingers over his various tattoos.

As his body pressed against mine, his cock prodded my thigh. He wasn’t enormous, but he wasn’t lacking either. I just hoped he knew how to use it.

I silently cursed my own cynicism. Obviously some men out there knew what they were doing. I couldn’t go into this assuming that Will was a sexual idiot, particularly not when his mouth was telling me otherwise with his gentle, insistent kiss.

I swallowed my doubts and bitterness, vowing to give him the benefit of the doubt, particularly as he laid me on the bed and nudged my knees apart.

The heat of his tongue met my pussy. He lapped gently, sliding his tongue in and out, running it all around my pussy lips. Everywhere but my clit.

Patience, I told myself. He’s getting there.

His tongue continued its exploration, very nearly hitting my clit a couple of times, but still missing. Close. Closer. Not quite. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, buddy, it’s right there.

Men aren’t mind readers, Darren’s sage advice reminded me.

I wetted my lips. “A little higher.”

He responded with a deep moan that vibrated across my flesh. But he didn’t change what he was doing.

“What you’re doing,” I said. “Do it, a little higher.”

No change.

I clawed the bedcovers beside me, hoping he mistook it for a pleasurable response, not the frustrated balling of my fists. Then again, maybe if he realized what I was doing, he’d get a clue.

Okay, so he doesn’t know what he’s doing with his mouth. Mustering my best “I’m really enjoying this” voice, I said, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Not yet,” he murmured. “My God, you taste incredible.”

And you have no idea what you’re doing. “I don’t want to wait,” I said, thankful that my exasperation could easily

be mistaken for arousal.

He mercifully came up then. When he kissed me, his mouth was sweet with my own taste. Christ, he may not have been worth a damn going down on me, but I loved the taste of his mouth afterward. He pulled my thigh up and his cock teased the entrance to my pussy. His kiss, his spine-tingling kiss, distracted me almost to the point of oblivion, but reality came back in a hurry as he started to push his cock into me.

“Condom,” I said.

He paused, pulling out but not away. “What?”

I stared at him. “A condom. Not without a condom.”

“I can’t come with a condom on,” he said, his tone suggesting that this was just common sense.

“And you’re not coming in me without one.” For all of my insecurities about asking for what I wanted, this was one area in which I was not backing down.

He scowled, but nodded. For a man who couldn’t come with a condom, he obviously had need for them from time to time, since he had plenty of them in his nightstand.

And he was right. He couldn’t come with a condom on.

I guess that made us even.

Twelve

The day after my aggravating night with Will, I went to another baseball game with Eric and Darren. Their presence raised my spirits, as it always did, but it just wasn’t enough to completely erase my sour mood.

During the third inning, it was Eric’s turn to go get beer. As soon as he was gone, Darren said, “You’re not your usual self today. What’s wrong?”

I shrugged and picked at the nachos the three of us had been sharing.

He cocked his head. “More work bullshit, or more dick bullshit?”

I laughed. “A little from column A, a little from column B.”

“Well, I can’t help much with the work bullshit,” he said. “But what’s up on the dick front?”

“Just more fun with the sexually challenged,” I muttered.

“So what happened this time?” He paused. “Or didn’t happen, as the case may be?”

I gave him a brief rundown of the previous night’s festivities. Just as I finished, Eric reappeared in the stands, carrying our beers.

Darren squeezed my thigh gently and said, “You have tomorrow off, don’t you?”

It was a three day weekend for me, thanks to a Monday bank holiday. “Yes, why?”

He grinned. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to show you how to take the reins

and get what you want.”

I swallowed hard. He gave me a devilish grin and a wink.

I could barely sit still for the rest of the game, particularly after Eric left in the seventh inning to go to work. I had no doubt that Eric knew what was going on between Darren and me, but we didn’t want him to feel like a third wheel when we were all out together, so we kept the come-ons and physical contact to a minimum. When he was gone, however, it was a different story.

To anyone else, we probably looked like a couple of lovebirds, not best friends who also happened to fuck. To outsiders, it probably looked like romantic affection, but every bit of contact we made was purely sexual. When Darren put his arm around me, it wasn’t a possessive, “this girl is mine” gesture, nor was it protective. For him, it was an opportunity to touch me, to run his fingers up and down the back of my neck or over the edge of my bra strap through my shirt. When he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, it probably looked cute and cuddly to anyone else, but they didn’t hear the filthy promises he was whispering in my ear as he did.

On the way, out to the parking garage after the game, he held my hand, but no one could see the little circles he was making on the inside of my wrist with his thumb, the arousing little circles that were distracting me to the point of tripping over my own feet. While we waited in a crowd for the elevator to take us to the floor on which his car was parked, he put his arms around me from behind and held me close. I don’t think anyone but us knew the two purposes that gesture served: To give him a chance to run his thumbs along the undersides of my breasts, and to cover his very obvious hard-on.

As he unlocked the car, he kissed me, a long, deep kiss, and whispered, “I swear to God, if I had a condom with me right now, I’d fuck you right here in the parking garage.”

At that, I balked, but I didn’t let him know. Our surreptitious flirtations were one thing; actually fucking in public was a bit much. The lack of a condom made it a moot point, though, so I didn’t mention it.

Getting out of the parking garage was, as it always

was after a game, like herding cattle through a pet door. Roll forward a couple of inches. Stop. Roll forward a couple of inches. Stop.

Darren’s mouth tightened into a scowl. “Christ, there has to be an easier way to do this.” His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. Patience of a saint, except in traffic. “Patience, Darren-san.”

He tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “Traffic is bad enough when I’m not horny as hell.”

I feigned shock. “Darren! Are you suggesting that you’ve been thinking impure thoughts?”

In spite of his frustration, he cracked a smile. Then he laughed and put his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Baby, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked you in my mind since that game started.”

At that, my cheeks burned. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

I swallowed. He was so matter-of-fact about it, so casual about the fact that not only was he horny—which, of course, I knew—but that he’d been quietly thinking about fucking me all day. I wasn’t upset or disconcerted by it in the least, but it was still so surreal to hear him speak so blatantly about his thoughts about me.

He glanced at me. “You’re not offended by that, are you?”

“Hardly,” I said. “If I was, I wouldn’t be in your car on my way back to your place for a night of debauchery.”

“La Casa de Knight, your place for all-night debauchery,” he chuckled.

And what I wouldn’t give for a night of debauchery with the other Knight brother, too, I thought with a shiver. Darren satisfied me with room to spare, but I couldn’t help my curiosity about Eric. Or my curiosity about both brothers at the same time.

“Finally!” Darren said, startling me out of my thoughts. We pulled out of the parking garage and onto the congested street, where the car promptly halted amidst throngs of other people trying to go the same direction. Darren rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a

second. “Oh for God’s sake.”

I laughed. “We’ll be out of it soon enough.”

He looked at me, then back at the choked intersection. To the people in front of us, he shouted, “I’ve got a hot woman in my car who needs to be fucked within an inch of her life tonight! Get out of my way!”

We both howled with laughter. As we continued through the endless maze of cars, I looked at him and said, “You know, I was thinking about this arrangement we have.” I paused, wetting my lips as I tried to find the words. “This ‘friends with benefits’ thing.”

He glanced at me, then back at the road. “I’m listening.”

“Are you sure it’s not…” I trailed off, thinking for a moment.

“What?” He sounded unsettled.

“Are you sure it’s not,” I paused. “Too one-sided?”

He looked at me again, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “Well, you’ve said yourself you don’t deal well with women who aren’t giving as much as they’re receiving. I just don’t want this to be too one-sided, you know? With everything you’re doing for me…”

He flashed me a grin. “Trust me, Marisa, this is anything but one-sided.” He patted my leg, then ran his finger up my inner thigh and he laughed as my breath caught.

“Seriously,” I said. “You’re doing so much for me—”

“Honestly,” he broke in. “If taking you home and fucking you every chance I get is what I need to do to help you see just how enjoyable sex can really be,” He paused, stiffening his lip melodramatically, pretending to choke back tears. “Then damn it, that’s the sacrifice I’ll make.”

We both laughed until we cried. I wiped a tear away with the back of my hand. “Okay, fair enough, but…I want to make sure you’re getting what you want, too.”

He winked at me. “Trust me. I am.” He pulled the car onto the interstate and the engine whined as he accelerated hard. He wasn’t kidding; he really was in a hurry to get home.

“Okay, well, if you say so,” I said with a shrug and a laugh. “If we’re calling it even, I won’t bother with that blow-

job or—”

“What? Wait, what blowjob?”

I put my hands up defensively. “You said we were even, that it wasn’t one-sided—”

“Well, that was before you brought a blowjob into it.”

“You said—”

“Tease.”

I shot him a playful glare and he returned it. A moment later, he glanced at me again, and I gave him a tarty wink and licked my lips.

He accelerated.

Thirteen

As we pulled into the parking lot, I looked at Darren and said, “You know, we’ve both been out in the sun all day. Maybe we should grab a shower first.”

He nodded as he put the car into park. “Oh, we’ll be taking a shower. Don’t worry.” On the way up the stairs to the apartment, he grabbed my ass. “But the shower can wait a few minutes.”

Over my shoulder, I said, “And why is that?”

He stopped on the landing beside me and put an arm around my waist, pulling me against him so that I could feel his hard-on. “Because if I don’t get my cock inside you in the next sixty seconds, I’m going to have to hurt someone.”

“Hurt someone?” I said with a grin as he unlocked the door. “Sounds kinky.”

He pulled me through the door by the hips and kicked it shut behind us. “Kinky hell,” he said. “I need to fuck you.”

“Is that right?” I avoided his kiss, giving him a teasing grin.

He nipped my shoulder. “Don’t make me drag you into bed by your hair.”

“Neanderthal.”

“I’m allowed to be a Neanderthal,” he said as we stumbled down the hall, pulling clothes off each step of the way.

“Are you?” I tugged at his belt. “Just why is that?”

He pressed his hips against mine as he unhooked my bra. “Because I have a big fucking club.”

“Yes, yes you do,” I laughed. I freed myself from his

grasp and laid on the bed, squirming out of my own jeans. “And you’d better get a condom on it right now.”

He was already pulling it out of the nightstand drawer and ripping it open by the time I finished saying it. Seconds later, he joined me on the bed. He kissed me, that ravenous kiss that always made me forget what day is was, and slipped a hand between us. When his fingers met my pussy, my back arched off of the bed.

“Jesus, you’re wet,” he exhaled against my mouth. “Wet enough for me to slide my cock right in.”

I responded with a soft moan, the only sound I could muster, and he was inside me.

“Oh my God,” he groaned against my neck. “Oh my God you feel…” He sucked in a breath. It was almost a startled sound, then he said, “My God you feel perfect.”

I buried my face against his shoulder to muffle the torrent of screams and moans that threatened to come out as he thrust into me again and again.

“Do you like that?” His voice was little more than a groan. “Oh fuck, tell me, baby, tell me if you want—oh fuck…”

I moaned an affirmative, exhaling against his shoulder as he rode me. Christ, why couldn’t other men feel this good?

“Oh God, I’m gonna come...” And seconds later, he did, releasing a sharp breath against my neck as his body shuddered. “Oh my God,” he whispered.

After a moment, he raised his head and kissed me. “Jesus, babe, you just had me too turned on to wait.” He grinned. “But you will come plenty of times tonight, rest assured.”

I smiled into his kiss. If my other nights with Darren were any indication, he wasn’t kidding.

“Join me for a shower?” he asked against my lips.

“Absolutely.”

We couldn’t keep our hands—or mouths—off of each other in the shower. Darren kissed my mouth, my neck, my shoulders, even as we rubbed soap all over each other. Then he looked at me and grinned as he soaped my breasts. “Now that we’ve gotten that first round out of our systems,” he said. “We can take our time. Tonight, you’re calling the

shots.”

I swallowed. “How so?”

He thumbed my nipples gently. “You are going to tell me what you want.” He kissed me, his tongue melting my spine with each gentle brush against my lips. “You’re going to tell me what you want, and I’m going to give you what you want.”

“As long as I ask for it,” I said, that nagging uncertainty creeping into my consciousness.

He cupped my breasts, watching his own hands seeking out my nipples amidst the thick suds. “It’s the only way you’ll learn to get what you want.” His gaze never left his hands on my breasts. “Whatever it is, whether it’s a change of position, or you want me to lick your clit…”

My cheeks burned as he said that, and I silently cursed myself. It was Darren, for God’s sake. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet there I was, blushing like a schoolgirl as he offered me suggestions and played with my nipples oh fuck Darren, you’re killing me with what you’re doing with your fingers, but don’t you dare stop, why are you stopping?

His hands went from my breasts to my face and he lifted my chin until I was looking into his eyes. In a voice so gentle it almost brought me to tears, he said, “Anything you want, Marisa. All you have to do is ask. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I swallowed hard. “It’s just, asking, it’s…”

He nodded, smiling, and kissed me. “You’ll get used to it. I’ll help you get out of your shell and expand your comfort zone.” Then he laughed, a sly grin on his face. “And once Marisa is out of her shell in bed, heaven help the men of this world.”

We both laughed and he kissed me gently. After we’d rinsed the soap off and stepped out of the shower, he said, “So, since you’re calling the shots…” He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.

Feeling a bit more brazen than before, I said, “Well, I think some oral action is in order, don’t you?”

He wetted his lips and came towards me to pull me into another kiss, his hard cock pressing into my thigh. “I think that sounds like a great idea. Why don’t we—” He stopped abruptly, his words catching in his throat as I knelt and took his cock into my mouth. I distantly heard his hand hit the wall as he braced himself. “Oh, wow,” he said.

I stroked him with one hand and ran my tongue around the head of his cock, flicking it across the underside, then swirling it around the head again, then flicking it again. His fingers ran through my wet hair, twitching against my scalp each time I hit a sensitive place or touched him just the right way.

“Oh fuck, baby.” His speech was slurred. “Holy hell, that’s good.” He exhaled. “That’s perfect.”

I put my lips around his cock and took as much as I could without actually deep-throating, giving myself enough room to still maneuver my tongue along the underside of the shaft. As I fucked him slowly with my mouth, I ran my tongue along him, barely containing a grin as a shiver ran through his body. Then I did it faster. A little harder. His compliments on my technique turned into pleas for more, which turned into barely audible moans.

He tightened his hand in my hair, not enough to hurt but enough to impede what I was doing. “Let’s take this in the bedroom,” he said, breathlessly.

I stood, still stroking his cock even while he kissed me. He held me tight, a hand on my lower back and another in my hair, kissing me like his life depended on it. I broke away just enough to say, “But I wasn’t done going down on you.”

A low growl vibrated across my lips. “If you keep doing what you were doing,” he said. “I’m going to come again. And I’m not going to come again until you do.” I grinned and tried to go down again, but he held me up. “Bedroom,” he ordered.

In the bedroom, he lowered me onto the bed, pressing his cock against me again. “I loved what you were doing with your mouth,” he said, kissing my neck. “But you haven’t come yet tonight. And tonight is about you.” He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me, cupping my breast with his other hand. “Tell me what you want.”

My mouth suddenly went dry. “You know what gets me off.”

He laughed and kissed me. “I do. But I want to know

what you want. I want you to see how easy it is to ask for—and get—what you want.” He bent and flicked his tongue across my nipple. “So tell me, what do you want me to do?”

I bit my lip. In my mind, I saw him eating my pussy, fucking me, fingering me, all the things I knew he could and would do, but the words stuck to the roof of my mouth along with my tongue.

“Do you want me,” he said. “To finger your clit and your pussy?” I swallowed. He circled my nipple with his tongue, then said, “Or eat your pussy until you scream?” He came up and kissed me. In a hoarse whisper, he said, “Or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore?”

I closed my eyes, avoiding the gentle scrutiny of his. I knew that he wouldn’t laugh at me or reject me, that he was in fact waiting for me to tell him the things that embarrassed me, but it didn’t make it any easier to say it.

His fingertips stroked the side of my face. “Whatever you want,” he said. “Tell me.” He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, “All I want is to make you come, over and over, but I want you to tell me how.”

A shiver ran up my spine. Finally,  I said, “I want you—” I swallowed. “I want you to eat my pussy.”

He grinned and kissed me. “Music to my ears,” he growled. As he kissed his way down my neck and chest, a strange sense of relief flooded over me. Though I knew he wouldn’t respond negatively, seeing was believing. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t tease, just worked his way down to do exactly what I’d asked.

His tongue circled my clit, slowly, barely touching it. Goosebumps prickled my skin. He did it again, the tip of his tongue so soft against me that I wondered if I was imagining it. I wanted more. Needed more. A shudder rippled through me in anticipation of his fingers on my G-spot, which he always did when he went down on me, but this time, he only used his tongue. I moaned softly, pushing my hips towards him, as if searching for his fingers.

Then I realized what he was doing: He was waiting for me to ask. For his fingers, for more pressure, for his tongue to move faster.

I swallowed my inhibitions. “Your fingers…I want…” My tongue barely formed the words, let alone a coherent

sentence.

His fingertips grazed the lips of my pussy, sending a shiver up my spine. His mouth broke contact with my clit just long enough to say, “What about them?”

Frustration gnawed at me, but I knew what he was doing. He wasn’t withholding, he was waiting. All I had to do was ask. “Your fingers,” I said. “Inside…in my pussy. Please.” And just as the words came off of my tongue, his fingers slipped inside me. They moved slowly, sliding in and out, narrowly missing—no, avoiding—my G-spot. “Bend them,” I said, worrying that I was coming across as a nag, as being critical of his technique, as— “Oh, fuck, just like that.” My back arched off the bed as his fingertips ran across my G-spot. He moved them faster. “Slower,” I said. “Just a little bit slower.” And his fingers slowed down. “With your tongue, a little bit harder, just—oh, God, yes.” All of my inhibitions and embarrassment melted as he did everything right, everything perfectly, and in seconds, I was over the edge. I’d always been afraid of being loud during sex, of just letting go, but I moaned, I cried out, I let it all come out, and just as my climax peaked, everything culminated in one desperate plea:

“Fuck me!”

Fourteen

Darren didn’t hesitate. I was vaguely aware of the drawer opening and the foil packet tearing, of my own voice repeatedly begging him to fuck me. He was about to do just that, lowering his hips between my parted thighs, when I stopped him.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Let me get on my knees,” I said.

He blinked, startled, then grinned. “Absolutely.” He sat back so that I could change positions. “You know, your hips are the perfect size for my hands,” he said, grasping them gently.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I murmured. “All I noticed was that your cock is the perfect size for my pussy.” My cheeks burned as I realized what I’d said. Thank God he can’t see my face, I thought. Shit, he probably thinks I sound ridiculous.

But he didn’t. “I noticed that, too,” he said, slowly sliding into me. He took his sweet time getting his cock all the way into my pussy, making sure I felt every last inch. He paused when he was all the way in. “Jesus, we are a perfect fit.” Then he pulled out just as slowly, holding my hips still as I leaned back.

Each time he moved, the head of his cock brushed my G-spot and sent lightning bolts coursing through my veins.

“Faster,” I pleaded. “Harder.”

He brushed my hair over my shoulder. “I can’t hear you.”

“You heard me.”

“Maybe I didn’t.” He took even slower, gentler strokes now, one hand resting on my lower back while the other played with my hair. “Tell me again.”

“Fuck me harder,” I said, looking over my shoulder.

He slammed into me once, hard and deep, just the way I wanted it, then went back to fucking me slowly. “What?”

That single stroke sent tremors up my spine and rendered me completely speechless. I wanted more. I needed more. I was drunk off of the little taste he’d given me. Stop fucking with me, Darren, you know exactly what I want.

He slammed into me again. Once. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He ran his hand up and down my side while the other wound fingers into my hair.

Frustrated and tongue-tied and so turned on I wanted to scream, I dug the heels of my hands into the mattress and took over, slamming my hips back against him. He grunted in surprise and suddenly gripped my hair tighter, pulling harder than he probably intended.

“Shit, sorry.” He released my hair and put his hands back on my hips as he fucked me.

“Put it back,” I said.

“What?”

I wetted my lips, trying to speak even as I kept slamming back against his cock. “Your hand. In my hair.” It was primal and rough, and I wanted more.

He closed his hand around my hair, but he didn’t pull.

“Do it again,” I said, trying to form a coherent sentence. “Pull it again.”

“Pull—are you sure?” He didn’t sound like he was teasing me this time. He sounded surprised, uncertain even.

“Yes,” I said through my teeth. “Pull my hair and fuck me.”

His hand wrapped around my hair and he tightened his fist, pulling it hard enough to make me yelp, then moan. And he fucked me. God Almighty, did he fuck me. “Is that the way you wanted it, baby?” He panted. “Tell me, tell me if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, yes!” I cried, losing myself in the deliciously violent pounding he gave my pussy. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Darren, you’re going to make me come.” And at that, he gave it to me even harder, his fist tightening in my hair, his cock slamming into all of the right places, and I was gone.

Over my own cries and moans and pleas for more, more, and more, I heard Darren’s breath catch, heard a deep, primal growl. He released my hair and seized my hips, giving me everything he was worth until he gasped, groaned, and relaxed.

After a moment, we sank to the bed as one, collapsing under our own weight. Darren pulled out slowly, made quick work of getting rid of the condom, and came back. He put his arms around me and we lay in silence for a long time, neither speaking, just breathing.

When the room stopped spinning, I rolled onto my side so that I was facing him. “That,” I whispered. “Was hot.”

“As it should be,” he said, lifting my chin and kissing me gently.

“Even if you were teasing me, you brat,” I said.

He laughed. “I was just making you ask for what you wanted. And you got everything you asked for, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Santa Claus, thank you.”

He gave me a playful glare, then laughed as he ran his fingers through my hair. “I didn’t realize you liked having your hair pulled.”

“Neither did I.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”

“Please do.”

He kissed me, a long, gentle kiss, just his lips against mine. “Who knows what else we’ll learn about Marisa tonight?” He snickered at the incredulous look on my face. “Oh come on, now, you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“I’m just trying to help a friend learn the joys of hot, crazy sex.”

“All at terrible personal expense, I’m sure.”

He took a deep breath. “Absolutely. You know that sex is excruciating for men, right? The worst form of torture, truly.”

“Oh, of course it is.” I had a much harder time keeping a straight face than he did. “Wait, I thought lack of sex was excruciating for men.”

He pretended to consider what I’d said for a long moment. “By God, I think you’re right!”

I cocked my head, trying not to smirk. “Oh?”

He kissed me and rolled me onto my back. Then he raised his head and looked at me. “You’re right, it’s lack of sex that’s torture.” He batted his eyes and gave me his best “sad puppy dog” expression. “You wouldn’t want to torture a friend, would you?”

I didn’t even try to keep a straight face anymore. “I don’t know, torturing you is kind of fun.”

He kissed my neck, flicking his tongue just below my ear. “You’re an evil, sadistic woman.”

“Well, if you put it like that…”

“You’ll let me fuck you?” The boyish excitement in his voice made me laugh so hard I almost cried. My laughter stopped abruptly as I gasped at the goosebumps that sprang up my spine when he kissed my collarbone.

I swallowed. “Keep doing that, and you better believe I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Duly noted.”

He did keep doing it.

And I did let him fuck me.

Fifteen

I had the next day off, but Darren had to work. He was gone before I woke up, so I took my time getting out of bed and taking a shower. Wrapped in just a towel, I stepped out of the bathroom towards Darren’s bedroom to get dressed.

Just before I reached the door, though, Eric stepped out of his own bedroom. We both stopped, looking at each other in surprise.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt and I caught myself staring at the tattoos on his arms and shoulders. I wondered what it would be like to let my fingers trace the grooves between the muscles of his abs.

Then I realized he was checking me out, too.

I cleared my throat, my cheeks burning. "I didn't realize you were still here.”

"Likewise," he said with a smirk. “I’ve been home for quite some time, actually.” He winked at me.

I cocked my head, wondering what he meant, when the penny suddenly dropped. Darren and I were anything but quiet the night before, thinking Eric was out for the evening. My cheeks were on fire. “Oh.” I chewed my lip. “I hope we didn’t, um…” My eyes flicked towards Darren’s door, then back to Eric’s. The bedrooms shared a wall. “You heard us, didn’t you?”

He nodded and I barely stifled a groan of embarrassment. It had been difficult enough getting up the courage to let Darren hear me, to let go like I had the night before, but knowing that Eric had also heard me was too much.

“Not to worry.” He smiled. “I wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you were turned on by it.”

He laughed and I thought his cheeks colored. Then he nodded. “What man in his right mind wouldn’t be?” Leaning against the doorframe and folding his tattooed arms across his broad chest, he made no effort to hide the fact that he was looking me up and down.

I was familiar with the phrase "undressing me with his eyes", but I never understood it more profoundly than I did in that moment. By the look on his face, he was long past undressing me and already had me flat on my back and screaming.

He wetted his lips and before I could stop myself, I did the same.

When he met my eyes, there was a lusty twinkle in his, and there was no misinterpreting the way he was looking at me. I had a feeling that if I dropped the towel, he would have fucked me right there in the hallway, and I seriously considered doing just that.

Instead, I folded my arms across my chest and grinned at him, hoping he didn’t see the gooseflesh he was raising on my skin. “So, it didn’t bother you to listen to your brother fucking someone in the next room?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t hear him at all.” He licked his lips again. “I heard you. Only you.”

I swallowed. “Is that right?”

Nodding, he opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then met my eyes and said, “I imagined I was the one making you moan, and whimper, and scream.”

My breath caught. I tried to ignore the way my heart was racing as I wetted my lips again. “So what do you do while you’re listening to us? To me?”

His lip curled into that devilish, mouthwatering grin. “I don’t have to do a damned thing.”

“You don’t jerk off to it?”

He laughed, then looked at me with an expression that was as full of lust as it was amusement. “I don’t have to. Just the sound of your voice when you’re right on the edge, right before you let go and come,” he paused, closing his eyes for a second and exhaling before looking at me again. “That does more for me than my hand ever could.”

I swallowed hard.

Eric pushed himself off of the doorframe with his shoulder and came towards me. “You make the most incredible sounds when you’re in bed, Marisa,” he said, his voice more of a growl than a whisper.

I swallowed again. He was close enough to touch, but I couldn’t move.

He, however, wasn’t quite so paralyzed, and slid his hand around my waist, just as Darren had the first time he’d touched me. “When you’re about to come,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You sound like you can’t quite breathe, like you’re so fucking turned on, you want to moan or scream, but can’t.” His fingers pressed into my back, drawing me towards him. A vague hint of smoke mingled with his musky, masculine scent. My mouth watered. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to taste his kiss, his skin, anywhere he’d let me.

He grinned and dipped his head slightly, his lips nearly touching mine. “And when you do come,” he growled. “The way you moan and scream is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” He kissed me then, drawing the breath out of my lungs as his tongue explored my mouth.

He paused and whispered, “I’ve wanted you for a long, long time. But after hearing you…” He trailed off, kissing me again and pressing his hips against mine so I could feel how hard he was. I whimpered into his kiss.

I reached for the towel and gave it just enough of a tug to loosen it. He looked down, drawing back to let the towel fall away and pool at our feet.

"Jesus Christ,” he growled, sliding his hands down my back and pulling me to him, his skin hot against mine. He kissed my neck. “God, I want to fuck you.”

His words pulled the breath right out of my lungs. I melted against him, grasping his shoulders and kissing him hungrily.

“Bedroom?” he said.

I murmured an affirmative and he led me into his bedroom. He put his arms around my waist and we tumbled onto the bed, my body on top of his. His hands were all over me: in my hair, on my back, along my waist, on my breasts. His touch was rougher and more demanding than Darren’s, but I loved it. I loved the way his fingers pressed into my flesh, the way his mouth devoured mine as he grasped my hips and pulled me against his rock hard cock.

All at once, he rolled both of us over and pinned my wrists to the bed. His lips went to my neck, then my collarbone. A moment later, he took my nipple into his mouth and sucked on it just hard enough that it almost hurt. I arched my back towards him and moaned softly.

“God I love that sound,” he growled, and closed his lips around my nipple again. He rolled it gently between his teeth.

Releasing my wrists, he propped himself up on one elbow, kissing his way back up to my mouth as his free hand parted my thighs. He exhaled hard as his fingers found their mark, pausing to tease my clit before sliding easily into my pussy. His palm pressed against my clit and his fingertips effortlessly found my G-spot, sending a tremor through my entire body.

“Oh my God,” I moaned.

He kissed my neck and circled my clit with the heel of his hand. “God, I want to fuck you,” he said, flicking his tongue across my collarbone as his hand released ripple upon ripple of pleasure inside me. “I want to hear you scream while I fucking rail you.”

I whimpered softly, struggling to remember how to breathe at all as his hand and his words sent me into orbit. I rocked my hips in time with his hand, pulling his fingers deeper and pressing my clit harder against his palm.

He kissed me, then said, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

More than anything in the world, fuck yes, I wanted to say. I somehow managed a feeble, “Yes.” It was barely a whisper, not because I felt any need to be quiet, but because I couldn’t muster anything more.

“I can’t hear you,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, louder this time.

“Yes, what?” His fingers crooked, pressing harder against my G-spot and rendering me almost unable to breathe, let alone speak.

I moaned. “Fuck me,” I finally said.

“Louder,” he growled.

I was on the edge. I wanted him to fuck me, but I didn’t want his hand to stop. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“Tell me what you want,” he said. I couldn’t decide if it was a command or a plea. “Tell me.”

“Don’t…stop…” I wanted to scream it, to cry out the way I knew he wanted me to, but I was lucky I could speak at all.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re this close.” His voice was taut with his own desire, the strained sound of a man who may have been in total control of me, but was barely in control of himself.

His palm circled my clit just a little bit faster, and I was over the edge. I don’t know if I screamed, if I moaned, if the overwhelming explosion of ecstasy came out as nothing more than a muted whimper. All I know is that when I could at last draw breath and I looked into his eyes, his expression was one of barely restrained need.

He kissed me, then said, “Don’t move.” He didn’t need to tell me; I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. As his jeans hit the floor and the nightstand drawer opened and closed, my mouth watered. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I questioned the idea of fucking my other lover’s brother, but those thoughts disappeared as soon as Eric was over me again.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled.

I moaned. “You know what I want.”

“I want to hear you say it.” We both gasped as he pressed his cock against my pussy. One thrust, and he’d be inside me, but he didn’t move. Through his teeth, he said, “Tell me.”

I licked my lips. “Fuck me,” I breathed. His hands slid under my back and grasped my shoulders. I took a breath and looked into his eyes. “Fuck me now.”

He grinned and kissed me. “That’s more like it.” Before I could respond, he slammed his cock into me and fucked me, each stroke knocking the very breath out of me. “Oh fuck,” he said. “You feel incredible.”

He dug his fingers painfully into my shoulders as he drove himself deeper inside me, fucking me harder than I’d

ever thought possible, and I loved every second of it. I raked my nails up his back and his spine arched, a throaty groan escaping his lips just before he kissed my neck.

I rocked my hips, drawing him deeper, and we both moaned. He fucked me harder. I rocked my hips faster. Everything around us ceased to exist and I was aware of nothing but the tremors coursing through me with each deep stroke he took.

He shifted his weight onto one arm, never once losing his incredible rhythm. He reached back with his other arm and hooked his elbow under my knee. As he brought my knee up, his cock slammed against my G-spot and I saw white. My entire body seized with the power of his thrusts and the electrifying orgasm that overtook me.

“Oh God, yes,” he roared, but I could barely hear him over the sound of my own voice, over the helpless, breathless cries I hadn’t even realized I was releasing.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, digging my nails into his shoulders.

He gave a deep, primal growl and slammed himself into me as deep as he could, his body shuddering against mine. After a moment, he relaxed, looking into my eyes, both of us struggling for breath.

I ran my fingers through his hair. “So my suspicions about you were correct.”

He cocked his head, lifting his eyebrow. “Suspicions?”

I grinned. “I always thought you’d be dynamite in bed.”

He laughed. “Why thank you.” He kissed me. “I had similar suspicions about you. Even before I got audio confirmation last night.”

My smile fell a little as reality crept in and I remembered that I was sleeping with Eric’s brother, too. “Fuck,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Darren.”

“What about him?”

I bit my lip. “Should we be doing this?”

He shrugged, propping himself up on one elbow as he played with my hair with his other hand. “You two just have

a casual thing going, don’t you?”

“So he told you?”

He laughed. “We talk about everything. You know that.”

“Fair enough.” I swallowed. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m, that—”

“That you’re fucking my brother?”

“Right.”

He shook his head. “If it bothered me, I never would have touched you.” He kissed me gently. “Now, as far as Darren…”

“Should we tell him?”

Eric took a breath. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

I nodded and ran my fingers through his hair. “I think we’ll keep it between us for now.”

“I can do that.” He grinned. “I’d be happy to keep a lot of things between us.”

“Like what?”

He nuzzled my neck. “What do you think?”

I laughed. “I think you’d better show me.”

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I said. “Unless someone’s man enough to satisfy me.”

“Oh, now that sounds like a challenge.”

“It is. You up for it?”

“Bring it on.”

Sixteen

A few nights later, Darren texted me about stopping by after work. Swallowing my guilt about fucking his brother, I waited for him to come over.

Over and over I told myself I had no need to feel guilty. We weren’t in any kind of committed relationship. He knew full well I was sleeping with other men, and in fact encouraged me to do so.

But I couldn’t help but wonder what he would think if he knew that I’d slept with Eric. Or that I would have given my right arm to do it again.

The knock at the door startled me and I gave myself one last silent command to push Eric out of my mind for the evening. I opened the door and greeted Darren with a long kiss.

“So,” he murmured against my lips. “You say you’re having better luck with my gender these days?”

I grinned, trying to not to think about Eric. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. “Tell me.”

I swallowed hard. “Tell you?”

He kissed just beneath my jaw. “Come on now,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve heard about all of the cretins you’ve fucked.” In my ear, he growled, “I want to hear about you enjoying it, too.”

I shivered. So much for not thinking about Eric. “Pervert.”

“Damn right.” His hand went to the back of my neck and the other to the small of my back. He pulled me against him and kissed me, the rigid bulge between us taking my breath away. He wanted me to talk, I wanted him to fuck me.

“Now how am I supposed to concentrate on telling you a story,” I said, pressing my hips against his. “When you’re distracting me with your cock?”

He laughed, almost hiding the gasp and the shiver as my hand slid between us and squeezed him through his jeans.

“Maybe we should get the distractions out of the way first,” I said.

He grinned. “I have a better idea.”

“Do you?”

He nodded and released me, leading me by the hand into my bedroom. Anticipation rippled through me as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me again. A moment later, he lowered both of us onto the bed, his body over mine.

“I was thinking,” His hand slid under my shirt. “That you could tell me all about this new Casanova…” He kissed down my neck and along my collarbone. “And all of the things he did to you…” His fingertips brushed my breast through my bra. “And by the time you’ve told me everything, we’ll both be too turned on to wait anymore.”

“I’m already too turned on to wait anymore,” I said as he flicked his tongue across the hollow of my throat.

He laughed softly, his breath hot against my shoulder. “So am I. But I want to hear this.”

Oh God, don’t make me tell you about him. Guilt knotted in my gut. I swallowed hard, hoping he mistook it for anticipation. I told myself over and over that I had no reason to be guilty, but there was something odd about regaling him with stories of my romp with his own brother.

“Tell me,” he whispered. He looked into my eyes and grinned. “It makes you nervous, doesn’t it?”

For reasons I am not about to explain, yes. I nodded.

“Good. Remember what I said about making yourself vulnerable.” There was a slight growl in his voice, an edge, and it reminded me of Eric’s smoke-roughened voice. “Tell me everything.”

I took a breath. I had nothing to hide, so why not?

And it wasn’t like I had to tell him who it was. Besides, Darren hadn’t steered me wrong yet, and if this was something that turned him on, it had to be worth a try.

I skipped over the “I came out of your bathroom and your brother saw me wrapped in a towel” part, and went straight into Eric’s bedroom. “He pulled me down on the bed,” I said. “On top of him.” My cheeks burned. I wasn’t embarrassed by what I’d done, but repeating it to someone else, particularly someone who was obviously turned on by such things, was as unsettling as knowing that Eric had heard me with Darren.

Darren wetted his lips. “Go on.” He started unbuttoning my blouse, but his eyes never left mine.

“He was rough with his hands.” I paused, biting my lip and suppressing a whimper. “But it was amazing. It was like he wanted me as close as possible to him, like we couldn’t get close enough.”

Darren exhaled. “I know that feeling.” He pushed one side of my blouse aside and kissed the exposed ribbon of skin. “You’re fucking irresistible.”

I ran my fingers through his hair and tried to continue. “Some of the things he did hurt,” I said, barely keeping myself from moaning. “And, oh my God, it felt good.”

He exhaled against my skin. “You like it rough?”

I shivered at the memories of Eric’s teeth on my nipple, the way he gripped my shoulders, the way he drove himself into me so hard he took my breath away. I licked my lips. “I do now.”

“Duly noted,” Darren said with a grin. He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “Why don’t we get out of the rest of these clothes? I have a feeling that once you’re done telling me all of this…” He looked at me and grinned, the unspoken suggestion in his eyes taking my breath away.

We both quickly got out of the rest of our clothes. He pulled a couple of condoms out of his jeans and set them on the nightstand, winking at me. “We should probably keep those handy.”

I could only nod. He put his arms around me and kissed me before laying me down on the bed again. He lay beside me, propping himself up on one arm. The heat of his skin against mine was almost unbearable, especially as he caressed my breast and thumbed my nipple gently. I wasn’t sure how he expected me to be able to think about anything other than him, let alone put it into words, but he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “What else did he do?”

I chewed my lip for a second. Between Darren’s touch and the discomfort of trying to talk like this, I could barely speak. “He…” I wetted my lips. I couldn’t find the words. “He said he loved the sounds I made.”

“You make the most incredible sounds,” Darren whispered hoarsely, running his tongue around my nipple. “And if he was hearing what I hear every time I fuck you…” He exhaled, closed his eyes for a second, then took my nipple into his mouth instead of finishing his thought.

I squirmed against him, my body on fire with need for him. Between Darren in my bed and Eric in my mind, I was going insane.

He looked up at me again. His hand drifted across my stomach and onto my thigh. “Tell me what he did to your pussy.”

I closed my eyes as a violent shudder rippled through me. I thought I moaned. God in heaven, what didn’t Eric do to my pussy?

Darren laughed. “Good man,” he said. “I ought to buy him a beer.”

You’ve bought him many, many beers, darling, I thought. “I should buy you both beers,” I said, trying not to smirk at the irony.

“Tell me what he did.” The growl in his voice was more strained now, almost pained, like he was begging for more.

“He didn’t go down on me—”

“What? Fuck that, I’m taking his beer back.”

I shook my head and laughed. “Trust me, he earned his beer.”

Darren’s fingers parted my thighs and he kissed my mouth gently. “Tell me,” he whispered.

My embarrassment was gone. I was far too aroused by both Eric and Darren to even think of being embarrassed. As Darren’s fingers slipped inside me, I said, “He fucked me with his hand. He had his hand on my clit and his fingers on my G-spot and—” I took in a sharp breath as Darren’s hand came to rest exactly where Eric’s had. “Like that. Just like

that.”

He kissed my neck. “Did he make you come this way?” He sounded almost breathless.

I could only manage a nod as I moaned. His fingers moved slowly, his palm circling my clit.

“Like this?” he whispered.

I wasn’t entirely sure if he was asking if I liked what he was doing, or if Eric had done it like that, but the answer to either question was an emphatic “yes”. I moaned an affirmative and he quickened his movements. He was far gentler than Eric had been, but his touch electrified me.

“Tell me more,” he whispered.

I struggled to breathe. The more I told him, the hungrier his expression became. And the more I told him, the more I relived that morning with Eric, and the more I needed Darren to fuck me. Finally, I managed, “He made me beg him to fuck me.”

“Did he?” Darren crooked his fingers slightly inside me, just like Eric had, taking my breath away as his fingertips found my G-spot. “And did you beg him?”

“God yes.” My body was trembling now, white light creeping into the edges of my vision as he beckoned the beginnings of an orgasm out of me.

He kissed my neck and moved his fingers faster. There was no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he whispered, “Did you beg to have his cock inside you, Marisa?”

I moaned.

“Did you scream for him to fuck you?” His palm pressed harder against my clit. “Did you beg for him to do what I’m about to do to you?”

The promise and the desperation in his voice propelled me over the edge, my body shuddering with violent, electric tremors, and somewhere amidst the breathless cries, I heard myself say “Fuck me, oh my God, fuck me.”

He broke contact just long enough to get a condom off of the nightstand and put it on. Then he was over me, and he was inside me, and I was on the verge of coming again. His hunger and desperation were palpable in each deep, hard thrust he took, and in the throaty groan he released as he fucked me harder and faster than ever before. He tried to

kiss me, but neither of us could remember how.

I watched his face, watched the way his lips parted and his brow furrowed, the way he closed his eyes as his body began to tremble. The sound that escaped his throat was both a primal roar and a helpless cry, and a second later, he drove himself deep inside me and shuddered, his shoulders tensing as he tried to hold himself up.

Finally, he collapsed against me. I ran my fingers through his hair as we lay in silence.

My guilty feelings lingered in the back of my mind, but all I could really think about just then was what had just happened. Just like Eric had been turned on hearing me fuck Darren, Darren was turned on hearing about the things Eric had done to me. Even as I stumbled, embarrassed and uncertain, through my story, it had aroused him. It had driven him wild.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that I was uncomfortable even telling a man what I wanted or letting him hear me moan or scream. Yet there I was, basking in the afterglow of an amazing fuck that had been fueled by the story Darren had coaxed out of me the same way he coaxed my orgasms out of me.

I played with his hair and grinned. What will you teach me next, Master Darren?

Seventeen

“So is Eric working tonight?” I asked as I slid out of the passenger seat of Darren’s car.

Darren nodded. “He said the place is packed tonight.”

“When isn’t it?” Ambrose’s, the restaurant in which Eric tended bar, was one of the more popular restaurants in Bellevue. Even on a Tuesday night, anyone without reservations was going to wait at least thirty minutes for a table.

He locked the car and we walked across the parking garage. Pushing the button for the elevator, he gave me a wicked grin. “Do you think they have security cameras in the elevators here?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Probably. Why?”

He shrugged and looked at the numbers above the closed door, watching them change as the elevator came up. His mouth was curled into a smirk, the kind of look he always had when he was thinking something or trying not to laugh. Or both.

“Why?” I asked again.

He shook his head. “No reason.”

“Liar.”

His lips tightened. He was definitely thinking something.

“Darren?”

The elevator dinged. He grinned at me. “Elevator’s here.”

I eyed him suspiciously as the doors opened and we stepped inside. He pressed the button for the bottom floor, and as the doors closed, I started to ask again, but before I could comprehend what was happening, I was in his arms. He propelled us both across the tiny space, slamming me up against the back wall and kissing me.

He inhaled through his nose as his fingers ran through my hair and his other hand pulled my hips against his. I was only vaguely aware of the railing biting into my lower back; all I cared about was the desperate, unrestrained way he kissed me. He kissed me and touched me as if this would be the one and only chance he ever had to do it again, that as soon as those elevator doors opened, he could never touch me again, and he was hell-bent on getting as much as he could between now and then.

The elevator jolted slightly as we reached the bottom, and as soon as the bell dinged to announce our arrival, Darren released me. One second he was kissing me like his life depended on it, the next he was standing next to me, waiting for the doors to open so we could go to dinner.

He started for the open doors, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate. He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got a table waiting.” That devilish twinkle in his eyes made me want to smack him.

Finally willing my legs to hold me up, I followed him. “That was just cruel.”

He laughed. “Just thought I’d give the security guys something to break up the monotony of their day.”

I shot him a playful glare. “I’m sure that was exactly what you had in mind. Completely selfless.”

“I’m a giver, what can I say?”

“You’re a tease.”

“Nonsense.” He winked at me as he held open the door to Ambrose’s. “You know damn good and well that I’ll finish what I started later on.”

“You’re right,” I said. “You will.”

“Feisty.” He grabbed my ass as he followed me into the restaurant.

The hostess approached us with a clipboard. “Hi, welcome to—Oh, hi Darren.”

“Hey Wendy,” Darren said. “We should have a reservation for two.”

She flipped through the pages on the clipboard and nodded to the other hostess. “Table twenty-seven.”

“Right this way,” said the other hostess. We followed her through the main dining area. Ambrose’s was an upscale restaurant, one that could be described as swanky but still laid back. A coat and tie weren’t required, but ratty jeans and worn out tennis shoes certainly wouldn’t fly.

Most of the light was provided by flickering candles, giving each table a deceptively intimate feel, in spite of the proximity to the other diners. Darren and I had spent more than a few dinners here trying to contain our amusement as we caught bits and pieces of nearby conversations that we probably weren’t intended to hear. I knew far, far too much about several women’s troubles with their ex-husbands, and we both swore that one trio of businessmen was planning either a hit or a bank heist.

We passed through the dimly lit dining area and into the lounge. Here, the tables were arranged in front of a massive bar that boasted only the finest top shelf liquors. After working there for the past seven or eight years, Eric probably would have had an aneurysm if anyone asked him to make a screwdriver with anything less than Grey Goose.

The hostess showed us to our table and Darren looked over my shoulder towards the bar, nodding to someone. Eric, I guessed.

As we looked over the menus, Eric came by the table. I had to contain my reaction; it wasn’t the first time I’d seen him in his work clothes—black slacks and a white button down with the top button casually left open and the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms—but it was the first time I’d seen him like this since we’d slept together. He greeted Darren with a fist bump and gave me a quick hug, whispering “You look fucking hot tonight” into my ear—sending my temperature soaring—before pulling away. To both of us, he said, “Drinks?”

“Guinness for me,” Darren said.

“And for the lady?” Eric said with a wink. “Or should I surprise you again?”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Every time we came into Ambrose’s, I told Eric to surprise me with a mixed drink. I wondered if the question had ever had the thinly-veiled flirtation in it before, but it certainly did tonight. I swallowed and said, “Surprise me, as always.” He shot me one last devilish look before he excused himself back to the bar.

Moments later, he returned with our drinks. He set the Guinness in front of Darren, and handed me a glass of what appeared to be orange juice with a hint of pink. I couldn’t decide if the pink was from the dim light or something in the drink.

“So what is this one called?” I asked.

Eric smiled. “Try it first.”

I lifted it off of the napkin, but paused as something caught my eye. Written on the napkin, slightly smeared from the dampness of the glass, were the words “Let’s do it again.” My eyes flicked towards his, and he ran the tip of his tongue across the inside of his lower lip. You two are killing me tonight.

I took a sip and grimaced. “Wow, that’s stronger than I expected.” It was delicious, incredibly sweet, vaguely tart from the orange juice, but undeniably alcoholic. I took another sip, then said, “So what is it called?”

The wicked expression on Eric’s face almost made me regret asking. “They call it a Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall.” He glanced back at the bar. “And I have customers, so I’ll leave you to enjoy it at your leisure.” Don’t wink at me, don’t you dare give me that wink, you sexy fucking…  Damn you.

And he was gone. I went for my ice water.

“So when are you and Casanova getting together for a rematch?” Darren asked as he set his glass down.

I choked on my drink. “What?”

He laughed. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you aren’t getting together with him again.”

I cleared my throat. “Trust me, I fully intend to get together with him again.” I was thankful that my back was turned towards Eric. Though Darren and I were completely fine with sleeping with other people, I still couldn’t help feeling a little guilty about sleeping with his brother.

“Good, I’m glad you’ve found a guy who knows his way around a woman.”

“Besides you?”

He laughed. “Well, at least now you believe me that they’re out there.”

“True.” And they all happen to live in your apartment, by the looks of it.

“It probably doesn’t hurt that you’re getting more confident and assertive in the bedroom.” His voice was low, just loud enough for me to hear, but my cheeks still burned. It was odd to have such candid conversations about my sex life, even with someone who was an active participant in the same.

I sipped my water, sucking on a piece of ice for a moment. “I’m learning. It’s just nice to finally be with men who are responsive.”

“Well, you’re learning to communicate what you want and what you need. Not to mention learning not to be embarrassed of what you want and need.”

I rolled the ice cube around on my tongue and nodded. Truer words were never spoken.

He closed his menu and laid it across the table, folding his hands over it as he leaned a little closer to me. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll start branching out now. Try some new things. Get a little daring.”

The ice cube clicked against my teeth as I abruptly stopped playing with it. I swallowed it and said, “Daring? How so?”

He shrugged, that “trying not to laugh, but definitely thinking something” smirk twisting his lips again. “Well, you don’t have a problem saying what you like, asking for more, things like that. Right?”

I nodded.

“Now who’s to say you won’t start suggesting totally new things? New positions. New places.”

I raised an eyebrow. “New places?”

He laughed. “You know, somewhere other than the bedroom?”

My cheeks were on fire. “Right, of course.”

It was his turn to choke on his water as he figured out what I’d been thinking. “That’s not what I meant. Though if you’re into—”

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

I sipped my other drink. “So, when you say other places…” I trailed off.

He absently ran his fingers up and down the sides of his pint glass. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you haven’t spent a lot of time somewhere other than the bedroom.”

“Just call me Plain Jane of the Bedroom,” I said.

He chuckled. “We’ll fix that, babe. Don’t worry.”

I have no doubt. No doubt in my mind. “So, tell me about some of the crazy places you’ve fucked.” Someone at a nearby table stiffened, and I realized my voice might have carried farther than I thought. I couldn’t decide if it amused me or embarrassed me more, but I lowered my voice after that. “I’m assuming you’re speaking from experience on these things.”

He rolled a sip of Guinness around in his mouth for a second before swallowing it. “You could say that.”

“Do tell.”

“You would probably never be able to touch a single piece of furniture in my apartment if I told you.”

I blinked. “Like, the couch?”

He snickered. “The couch. The kitchen table. The kitchen counter.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am, believe me. You know, that kitchen table I have is the perfect height for—Jesus, Marisa, I have never seen that shade of red on your face before.”  He paused. “No, scratch that, I have. Usually right before you—”

“Darren.”

“I’m just saying.”

I shook my head and laughed. “The more you tell me, I swear, the more naïve I feel.”

“You have to start somewhere,” he said. “Eventually, you’ll get ballsy enough to come out of the bedroom. Try new things. There are things that probably horrify you right now, but down the line, you’ll be itching to try them.” He paused. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even get up the nerve to try something in public.”

I could only imagine the stunned expression on my face just then, and I was thankful that I hadn’t been taking a drink. “In…public?”

“Absolutely.”

“I think I’d be too afraid of getting caught.”

He leaned farther across the table and lowered his voice. “It's the thrill of almost getting caught that makes it so hot.” He grinned. “Trust me on this one.”

I sipped my drink, neither tasting it nor feeling the burn in my throat. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Eighteen

We stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage, our footsteps echoing in the silence. As we walked across the garage to the car, my mind wandered back to our conversation in the restaurant.

Try something out in public, he'd suggested with that wicked grin and devilish sparkle in his eyes. "It's the thrill of almost getting caught that makes it so hot."

I looked around the parking garage. A few levels down, a car door slammed. Somewhere above us, footsteps and voices. Four elevators and numerous doors accessed this level, and another car could appear on one of the ramps at any moment. But for the time being, we had the entire level to ourselves.

We stepped between Darren’s car and a black SUV. He reached to open my door, but I took his wrist and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled into my kiss and returned it. After a second, he started to pull away towards the car door, probably thinking I’d stopped him for just a brief kiss, but I nudged him with my body until he was backed up against the car.

He looked at me in surprise, cocking his head in an unspoken “what is this?” I kissed him, and after a moment, he put his hands on my waist and met my tongue with his.

I slid my hand between us and gave his cock a subtle squeeze through his jeans. He gasped, pulling the air out of my lungs. I broke the kiss and grinned at him, giving him another gentle squeeze while I reached down with my other hand to unbuckle his belt.

His lips were parted in surprise. "What—" He stopped abruptly as I unzipped his jeans.

"You said to try something in public," I said, kissing him lightly.

He glanced around us quickly, his expression still one of total shock. “I did, but…”

“But what?” I slid my hand into his jeans and wrapped my fingers around his cock.

He started to speak again but stopped as I dropped to my knees in front of him. He laughed. "I've created a monster, haven't I?"

"Are you complaining?" My lips were close enough to his cock for my breath to whisper across his skin.

He tensed. "No. No, not in the least." His sharp gasp echoed in the silent garage as I ran my tongue around the head of his cock. I immediately understood what he meant about the thrill. We weren't out in the open, but we weren't exactly hidden either. All it would take was a well-timed glance from someone passing by, and we would be seen.

He exhaled as I devoured him. I looked up at him and ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, grinning with satisfaction as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. Then I deep-throated him, fucking him rapidly with my mouth. His legs trembled as he struggled to stay standing.

“Oh God, that’s perfect.” He groaned softly, running his fingers through my hair.

The elevator dinged, the sound echoing through the garage. Voices and footsteps spilled into the silence. Darren tensed a little, but I didn't stop, and he made no attempt to make me stop.

The footsteps came closer. Darren was getting closer to the edge. Car doors opened nearby, voices laughed and chatted. Darren took in a sharp breath and grabbed the side mirror for balance. Car doors slammed. Darren released a soft moan, which he stopped as abruptly as he started, probably startling himself with the sound.

The thrill was incredible, knowing how close he was to the edge, how close we were to being discovered. My heart raced and I thought I was close to coming myself.

The engine turned over. In moments they would pass us on their way to the exit. I gave Darren everything I had, and in seconds, he came, the helpless moan echoing even over the sound of the other car’s engine. His knees trembled. He leaned against his car for balance. I kept going, stroking and sucking, until he pleaded with me to stop.

I rose and wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand a second before he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. The nearby engine crescendoed, then faded as it passed us by, and in moments, we were alone again in the parking garage. If the people in the car saw anything, it was just a couple of lovers sharing a kiss. They would be none the wiser, but I knew, and Darren knew, and it was fucking hot.

He broke the kiss and looked at me. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. His entire body was shaking, and I loved it. He kissed me again. “That was fucking incredible.”

“You were right,” I said. “It is a thrill in public.”

His eyes widened and he nodded. “Particularly when it’s unexpected.”

I smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to surprise you.”

He laughed and pulled me closer. “Pushing me up against a car and sucking my cock in a parking garage is a pretty damned good way to surprise me.” He kissed me again. “Now why don’t we get back to my place before I have to put you across the hood and fuck you?”

I gave him a playful wink. “I don’t know, I’m kind of enjoying this public thing.”

He grinned and put his hands on my hips. “If I do that, I guarantee we’ll get caught.”

“Oh really?”

He nodded. Just before he kissed me again, he whispered, “Because the entire damned city will hear you after what I plan to do to you.”

Nineteen

Darren was out of town for a week, so it didn’t surprise me in the least when my phone beeped with a text message at work. Eric had written: Doing anything tonight?

I immediately thought of the napkin under my glass at Ambrose’s. Even now, the thought of those half-smeared words made my skin prickle with goosebumps. Let’s do it again. I was thoroughly satisfied with Darren, but craved Eric, too. They both satisfied in their own ways, and I wanted more.

I quickly sent back, What did you have in mind?

Moments later, he replied with, I think you know.

I chewed my lip. Time and place? The rest of the day was going to crawl by now, knowing what was ahead.

My place. As soon as you can.

I swallowed hard. Indeed, the rest of the day was going to be an eternity.

When that eternity finally ended, I drove to the apartment Darren and Eric shared. Eric opened the door and almost knocked me off my feet with a deep kiss.

“I have been dying to fuck you again,” he whispered.

“That makes two of us.” We fumbled with clothes, cursing at uncooperative buttons and buckles as we left a trail of discarded clothing in our wake.

We fell into bed together, mostly undressed and completely overwhelmed with need. His erection pressed against my thigh and drove me almost out of my mind. It was one thing to fantasize about him all day. It was another thing entirely to be this close to him.

“Fuck me,” I said, my lips barely leaving his. “Fuck me. Now.” There was no need for foreplay, not after hours of going crazy waiting for this moment.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He broke contact just long enough to pull a condom out of the nightstand drawer. In seconds, it was on, and barely a heartbeat later, he was inside me. My back arched off of the bed as soon as he took that first thrust.

He gripped my shoulders and drove himself into me, faster and harder. I moaned, rocking my hips in time with him, my breath catching as he fucked me right to the edge.

“Come, baby,” he said, his voice strained. “I know you’re close.”

“Faster,” I whimpered. I was close, I was on the edge, but I couldn’t get enough of him. I needed more, just a little bit more. I was drunk off of him, off of the sensations he unleashed inside me. “Faster.”

“Any faster and I’m going to come,” he growled. “God, I can feel you getting close, you’re…fuck!” He slammed into me and shuddered, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, his voice shaking as badly as his body. After a moment, he raised his head and looked at me. “You didn’t come.” It wasn’t a question. Not a complaint or an accusation. It was just an observation.

And before I could confirm what he obviously already knew, he lifted himself up and a second later, his mouth was on my pussy. My back came up off the bed before his tongue had made a single circle around my clit. His fingers slipped inside me, igniting a shower of white sparks behind my eyelids as he found my G-spot

“Oh my God,” I murmured. He’d already driven me so close when he was fucking me, and what he was doing now was beyond intense. In seconds, my back arched, my body seized, and I stole one last gasp of breath and begged him not to stop just before a powerful orgasm crashed through me.

He didn’t stop. Even as my orgasm rose, peaked, tapered, he didn’t stop. He eased off of my clit, making slow, gentle circles with his tongue, but he didn’t stop. I tried to catch my breath in the wake of my climax, but another was building on the heels of the first. Before I’d fully recovered

from the first, I was gone again.

This time I begged him to stop. He released me, withdrew his fingers, and quickly got rid of the condom while I was recovering from two earth-shattering orgasms in a row.

By the time he came back to bed and laid down beside me, I could finally see again. “Oh my God, Eric,” I breathed.

He kissed me gently. “I just wanted to make sure you got yours. You’re supposed to come first.”

I smiled and ran my fingers through his hair. “If you’re going to make me come like that,” I paused to wet my lips. “You can have all the orgasms you want first.”

“I may take you up on that,” he laughed.

“You are amazing with your tongue,” I slurred.

He kissed my neck. “And your pussy tastes incredible. I could do that all night.”

“I wouldn’t have a clit left,” I said.

“Well, we can’t have that,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to fuck you instead.”

“I can’t wait,” I said with a grin.

“Wait? Who’s waiting?” He leaned across me towards the nightstand.

I looked at him, my jaw slack. “Already?”

“Of course.” He kissed me and pressed his hips against me, letting me know that he was, indeed, ready to go again. “Did you think I was just going to fuck you once and send you on your way?”

“I’d have to hurt you if you did that.”

He tore the condom open with his teeth and rolled it into place. “You can hurt me all you want, baby.”

“As long as I let you fuck me?”

“Let me?” he snorted. He lowered himself over me and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he said, “Be careful, I’ll make you beg me to fuck you.”

“You’d only be torturing yourself.”

He paused, as if considering what I’d said, then shrugged. “Okay, you got me.” And with that, he thrust into me.

“Oh God,” I said, digging my nails into his shoulders as he fucked me, as he pounded me.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he growled. “Oh my God…”

I moaned, rocking my hips to drive him deeper. He tried to kiss me, missed, tried again, then gave up and went for my shoulder. And still he fucked me, knocking the breath out of my lungs with each powerful thrust.

Then he stopped abruptly. “Get on your knees,” he ordered.

I moaned softly. I didn’t want this to stop. It just felt too fucking good.

“I want you on your knees,” he said. He started to pull out, but I hooked my ankles behind his back and pulled him back inside me. He gasped softly, then recovered. “Come on, on your knees.”

“And why should I do that?” I replied.

He kissed me and fucked me slowly, moving as much as my legs would allow him to. “Because I want to watch myself fuck you.” A shiver ran up my spine. I swallowed. He laughed and kissed my neck, thrusting deep inside me. In my ear, he whispered, “I love watching myself fuck you from that angle,” he said. “I can see my cock going all the way into your pussy.”

Any playful resistance I’d offered evaporated and I unhooked my ankles. With a devilish grin, he kissed me as he slowly pulled out. He was almost all the way out when he suddenly slammed back into me, knocking a startled breath out of my lungs. After taking a few more violent thrusts, he said again, “Get on your knees.”

We changed positions and I couldn’t help but moan as he gripped my hips and rode me from behind. The bed sheets bunched in my clawing hands.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he growled. “Just watching this is fucking hot.”

I moved my hips from side to side, grinning to myself at the throaty groan he released.

“I love watching myself fuck you,” he said, his breath catching. He leaned forward and grabbed my hair, pulling just hard enough to take my breath away. “You know what I’d also love?”

I struggled to comprehend his words, tried to draw a breath as his cock pounded my G-spot. “What?” I finally managed.

He tightened his grasp on my hair. “I’d love to watch

another man fuck you.”

I sucked in a breath and my spine stiffened. Did I just hear that right? “You—what?”

He pulled my head back, laughing softly at the whimper that escaped my lips. “I said, I’d love to watch another man fuck you.”

“You…” I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think.

“Would you like that, baby?” he said.

“I…” I couldn’t tell what was putting me closer to the edge: Eric’s cock on my G-spot, or the thought of living out one of the hottest fantasies I’d ever dared to consider with two of the hottest men I’d ever fucked.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he growled. He released my hair and grabbed my hips again, slamming his cock into me. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you’d like that.”

“I’d…” The room was turning white. “Fuck…” Rippling currents of electricity radiated from within me. I slammed my hips back into him.

He fucked me harder. “Tell me.”

I said the only thing I could manage: “Fuck me. Jesus Christ, fuck me.”

He rammed his cock into my pussy so hard that it hurt. It hurt like hell, and I moaned and screamed for more. He gave me more, and still I pleaded for more, until I came, shaking and moaning and damn near crying because it just felt so. Fucking. Good.

“Oh God,” he groaned. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m—” He slammed into me, desperately getting just a few more violent strokes in before pulling my hips against his and shuddering. The roar that usually signaled his orgasm was little more than a stifled moan, a barely audible sound of total surrender.

We both slowly collapsed into a breathless heap on the bed. He kept most of his weight off of me by leaning on one elbow, but his body—sizzling hot and damp with sweat—was against mine. He rested his forehead on my shoulder for a long moment, until both of us stopped shaking.

He pulled out and saw to the condom while I rolled onto my back, still trying to remember how to breathe. A moment later, he joined me, lying on his side next to me.

“Fuck, that was hot,” I said.

He cupped my breast. “It always is.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” I murmured, my voice slurred with post-coital delirium. “Were you serious? About wanting to see another man fuck me?”

The lusty grin on his face told me he was. “Absolutely.” His thumb circled my nipple. “There’s nothing hotter than seeing a woman fucked to the brink of insanity.” He laughed as I shivered.

“So you wouldn’t have a problem being naked in the same bed with another man?”

He considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “As long as he knows I don’t swing that way.” He kissed me. “It would be all about you, baby.”

I held my breath, expecting him to add a caveat about Darren. Any man…except him. Sure, I can handle it…but not with Darren. But it didn’t come, and I didn’t ask.  Instead, I whispered, “Duly noted.”

More than ever, I desperately wanted to confess to Darren about my trysts with Eric. I may have come out of my shell, but I wasn’t nearly far enough out of it to tell Darren that not only had I been sleeping with Eric, but I wanted to have both of them at the same time.

Twenty

As I came out of the shower and started getting ready for work one morning, a black strip of satin caught my attention in my dresser drawer. I paused, then pulled it out and looked at the skimpy, lacy black bra that Darren had helped me pick out at Undertones. I had worn it for him a couple of times, had even considered wearing one of the garters, but aside from my little liaisons with Darren, the sexy underthings had mostly stayed in my drawer.

That morning, though, I felt a little brazen.

My blouse and coat were light in color, but the material was thick enough to cover a dark bra. My skirt’s hem reached just above my knees, safely obscuring a garter if I chose to wear one.

Oh what the hell? No one’s going to see it. I couldn’t help but grin. But I’ll know it’s there.

When I was dressed, I looked in the full-length mirror. Though I looked no different than I did every day at work—a conservative skirt and coat, a blouse that didn’t show even a hint of cleavage, an outfit that was as professional as it was bland—but I knew what was underneath. Even though the lingerie was hidden, it felt daring, naughty even.

I loved it.

I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

As soon as I walked through those double glass doors at the office, though, my confidence dipped. Was I absolutely certain that none of it would show? What if my skirt didn’t cover the garter as well as I thought? I surreptitiously ran a hand down my thigh, fingering the strap through my skirt. I glanced down. There was easily three inches between the bottom of the garter strap and the hem of my skirt. In the safety of my bedroom, those three inches seemed like more than enough. Here, it seemed about as safe as being three inches from a hand grenade.

Fuck, I thought as I headed to my cubicle. Good luck concentrating on a damned thing today. I groaned quietly to myself. I was going to spend the whole day wondering if my sassy lingerie was visible to anyone.

And if I thought my blood pressure couldn’t jump any higher, I came around the corner and ran right into Max Gordon.

Good Christ, he was wearing a suit that day. A tailored, shoulder-hugging, mouthwatering black suit.

“Hey,” he said with a smile.

“Hey,” I said, swallowing hard. Just what I needed. A meeting with a sexy man who was totally out of my league while I tried to survive the day without anyone realizing I was dressed like a slut in a businesswoman’s suit.

We sat down at my desk and started going over some reports. At one point, he leaned over to get a better look at the section I’d highlighted. As he did, I caught that familiar mix of smoke and cologne, and my head spun as I wondered if his kiss tasted anything like Eric’s.

Focus, I ordered myself. Work. Not sex.

Trying to get comfortable, I crossed my legs and rested one hand on my thigh. To my horror, I realized that my posture had pulled my skirt taut over my leg. All it would take was a downward glance, and he would see the outline of the garter beneath my skirt. Panic surged through me. If I didn’t move my legs, he might see it. If I uncrossed and crossed them, the movement might catch his eye. I couldn’t be the only woman in the world who wore a garter, but I knew how Darren had responded to them. It was nothing if not provocative, something that was worn to be noticed, and I suddenly wasn’t so sure I wanted Max to notice.

“Marisa?”

My head snapped up. Max raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry, I’m just not running on a lot of sleep.” Because I’m a fucking slut, and God Almighty am I dressed the part today. “What were you saying?”

I fumbled my way through the rest of our meeting. After Max left, my friend, Colette, swung by my desk to see if I wanted to go for lunch.

“Definitely,” I said. “I need to get out of here for a while.”

“I’ll drive.”

On the way out to the car, Max came around the corner in the hall and walked out with us.

“You mean they actually let you ladies eat once in a while?” he said, smiling at both of us as we turned into the lobby.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, so I just laughed softly. She said, “I’m sure they wouldn’t if we had a slave driver like you in charge.”

Max snorted. “If they put me in charge, more than just the lunch breaks would be changing.”

“Yeah, the place would probably go out of business in no time flat,” she said.

He feigned offense. “I’m hurt, Colette, I really am.”

“No you aren’t. Now get out of here before someone thinks we keep company with the likes of you.”

He laughed and headed across the parking lot to his own car.

“If he made the rules,” she said. “We’d probably all have to dress like the receptionists.”

Well, if that were the case, I’m off to a damned good start today. “Good thing he’s not in charge then,” I said. My cheeks were on fire. Please don’t notice. Please don’t notice.

“Are you blushing, Marisa?”

Damn you. “No,” I said with a laugh that I instantly knew wouldn’t convince her.

“You still have a crush on him, don’t you?” she teased as we got into the car.

I laughed, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

She shrugged. “Can’t say I blame you.”

“He certainly isn’t husband material,” I said. “But damn, what I wouldn’t give to—” I cut myself off, suddenly remembering I was talking to Colette, not Darren.

Her jaw dropped. “Did I just hear you right?” She certainly had no qualms about saying things like that, but I

had never been quite so candid about such topics at work.

My cheeks must have been bright red at this point. “Nevermind.”

She clicked her tongue and laughed. “Like you’d do anything like that.”

Oh, if you only knew. “Well, every girl has her secrets,” I said.

She blinked, but didn’t ask.

“Anyway,” I said with a shrug. “He’d have to notice me before I had a snowball’s chance in hell with him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s not going to notice you if you keep wearing camouflage to work.”

I eyed her. “Camouflage?”

“Yeah. Cubicle camouflage.”

“What are you talking about?”

She gestured at my clothes. “Come on, you’re dressed in almost the same color as the cubicle walls.”

I looked down at my light tan skirt and coat and thought of the bland cubicle walls of the same color. Holy shit.

“He doesn’t notice you,” she said. “Because you’re dressing to go unnoticed. He notices the receptionists because they’re dressed to be noticeable. No one’s going to notice a chameleon when he’s too busy checking out the Birds of Paradise.”

I thought of the receptionists for a moment, mentally scrutinizing their short skirts and dangerously low cut blouses.  Colette was absolutely right. Max noticed the girls that dressed to be noticed. I was dressed to blend in with the damned furniture.

I sighed at the sinking feeling in my gut. I couldn’t come to work dressed like that, with just enough skin covered to keep me within the company’s relatively lax dress code. Just wearing sexy lingerie underneath my clothes had raised my blood pressure several points and rendered me almost paralyzed by self-consciousness.

Darren may have tugged me partway out of my shell, but dressing like that would be a bit much. If that was what Max wanted, then he was, as I’d long suspected, out of my league.

“Well,” Colette said. “I don’t blame you a bit for

wanting a piece of him. I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”

“I wonder what he’s like in bed.”

“I still can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.” Colette giggled. Then she said, matter-of-factly, “I’ll bet he’s incredible with his mouth.”

I stared at her. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s a smoker,” she said with a shrug. “He’s always chewing gum. If he isn’t chewing gum, he’s chewing a pen.”

“And?”

“Two words,” she said, grinning at me. “Oral. Fixation.”

Be still, my beating heart. “You think so?”

“Hell yeah,” she said. “The man is always doing something with his mouth. Always.”

I had never thought of it that way, but she was absolutely right. And I wanted to smack her right then, because now I would never, ever be able to concentrate in Max Gordon’s presence.

Twenty One

Darren’s flight was due to land around one o’clock on Thursday afternoon, so it was no surprise when I received a text message at one fifteen.

Busy tonight?

I laughed, then wrote, I suppose that’s up to you, isn’t it?

Moments later, he came back with, I’ll be there when you get home.

I almost squealed with excitement. So much for getting anything done that day.

The afternoon crawled by, but mercifully, five o’clock finally showed up. All the way home, I prayed that every cop in the area was busy, because if one of them pulled me over at that speed, I was going to be paying through the nose. Fortunately, the interstate was free of speed traps, and I made it home in record time.

My heart leaped when I pulled into the parking lot and saw Darren’s car in one of the visitor spots. As soon as I got out of the car, he was out of his and next to mine. He kissed me, pushing his hips against me and making sure I felt just how hard he was right then.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he said.

“It was only a week,” I laughed.

“I know,” he said, kissing me in between speaking. “But…fuck, I’ve been looking forward to this for days.”

His kiss melted my spine. I broke away just long enough to say, “Then let’s take it inside.”

“We could do it in the car.”

Tempting. So very, very tempting. “In the house,” I said.

We made it into the house—barely. We were still pulling clothes off even as he fucked me over the back of a chair in the living room. It was fast, furious, and perhaps five minutes after we came through the door, we were lying in bed and relaxing.

“So how was your trip?” I asked as we lay together afterward.

He shrugged. “Typical business bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know why they needed me to go with them. There’s nothing they needed to tell me that they couldn’t have told me via e-mail. Fuckers.” Then he grinned. “But hey, if the client’s providing free booze and entertainment, I’m not going to bitch.”

“Entertainment?” I raised an eyebrow. “Just what kind of entertainment?”

“Actually the client just took us out to some of the restaurants in town,” he said. “But a couple of my buddies and I went to a strip club the other night.”

“A strip club?” I smirked. “I didn’t think you were the type to enjoy such filth.”

He batted his eyes innocently. “I hated every moment, of it, I promise.”

“Liar,” I laughed.

He grinned and kissed me gently. “I should take you to a strip club with me sometime.”

“What?” I blinked.

“Sure,” he said. “You never know, you might enjoy it.”

“What is the attraction to strip clubs, anyway?” I asked. “I mean, how aggravating is it to watch a girl take her clothes off, when you can’t touch her anyway?”

He laughed. “That’s half the fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“Restraint.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

He shifted his weight and propped himself up on one elbow. “Think about it,” he said. “It’s that thrill of ‘you can look, but don’t touch’. A hot, naked, gyrating woman, close enough to touch, but you can’t.”

“So you’re paying to be teased?”

“They don’t call it a striptease for nothing.”

I pursed my lips. “Guys really enjoy that sort of thing?”

He let out a breath. “Fuck yes. Especially if it’s a lap dance. When you can actually feel her against you, when she’s close enough to taste, but there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it…” He trailed off, closing his eyes for a second and exhaling.

“Interesting,” I said.

He smiled. “It may not make a lot of sense on paper, but trust me on this one,” he said. “Tease a man like that—tell him he can look at you, but he can’t touch you, and he’ll lose his ever-loving mind.”

I paused, then laughed. “So that’s why you were so horny tonight.”

His cheeks darkened. “Okay, you got me.” He kissed me. “But trust me, it wasn’t just the strip club that had me climbing the walls wanting to get back here.”

“I suppose that’s a compliment.”

“Trust me, babe, it is.” He smiled. “Strippers are hot, and they teased me to no end, but I’ve been wanting your pussy since before I even set foot in that club.”

“Maybe I should strip for you,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He sucked in a breath. “I think you’d kill me.” His brow furrowed and his lips twisted into a grin. I could tell he was picturing it.

“I was kidding, Darren.”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “Watching you strip would be fucking hot.” He touched the side of my face. “In fact, you should try it with Casanova.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re not serious.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “It’ll mean taking a serious step out of your comfort zone, but I promise you, it’ll be worth it.”

“You really think so?”

“Baby, I guarantee you, if the man is a true red-blooded male, and you give him a striptease and a lap dance, he will be dying to fuck you within an inch of your life.”

My breath caught in my throat at the thought of doing that to Eric, of driving him wild. I swallowed. “But, I don’t even know the first thing about stripping or lap dancing or

anything like that.”

“Trust me,” he said with a wink. “You don’t have to do it perfectly. Just slowly taking your clothes off, getting in his lap, touching him, but not letting him touch you…” He swallowed, then licked his lips. “Just, trust me.” Before I could speak, he pulled me close. “In fact, just thinking about you doing that is turning me on.”

Twenty Two

I chewed my thumbnail and paced in the living room. Eric would be along any minute, and I was second-guessing my plans for the evening. He would think it was ridiculous. I’d look like an idiot.

I caught my own reflection in the TV screen and quickly looked away. Though I was dressed like I always dressed for work, all I could see was what was hidden under my ultra conservative skirt and coat.

I glanced at the clock and wondered if I had time to quickly change into something a bit less risqué, but he’d be along any second. “Fuck,” I said aloud.

No, I was going to do this. I had to. Darren hadn’t steered me wrong yet, and this was his idea.

The doorbell rang.

Too late for second thoughts.

A shiver, one of both anticipation and sheer terror, ran up my spine as I went for the door. I let him in and he pulled me into a deep kiss, the kind of breathtaking kiss I had come to expect from him.

He leaned me up against the door and kissed me again. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

“So have I.” I pushed him back gently and looked him in the eye. “In fact, I have some plans for us tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Is that so?”

I nodded. “I’m calling the shots tonight.”

“Feisty.” He bent to kiss my neck, sliding his hand over my hip to my thigh, his body tensing when his fingers grazed the hidden strap beneath my skirt. Cocking his head, he looked at me as he ran his fingers up the telltale shape of my garter. “That’s new.” His eyebrow lifted slightly and his lip curled into a dirty smirk.

“Indeed it is.” I grinned, hoping he didn’t see my waning confidence.

He ran his hands up and down my thighs, fingering the garter straps. “So what is this evil plan of yours tonight?”

“What makes you think my plan is evil?”’

“Well, if it isn’t evil, then I don’t want any part of it.”

“I assure you, you want a part of this.”

He grinned and kissed me. “Then it must be evil.”

“Fair enough. Then I suppose I should tell you the rules.”

“Rules?” He scowled, but his eyes were still sparkling with mischievousness.

“Yes,” I said. “You are going to sit in that chair,” I gestured over his shoulder at my black leather armchair. “Until I tell you otherwise.”

He glanced at the chair then looked back at me, that eyebrow lifting again.

I went on. “And you can’t touch me until I tell you that you can touch me.”

“I can’t touch you?”

I shook my head.

“But I want to touch you.”

“You will. When I tell you that you can.”

He grinned as he took his hand off my thigh and stepped back. “You’re the boss.”

I nodded towards the chair and he gave me another devilish grin before crossing the living room and sitting in the armchair as I’d ordered.

I turned towards the stereo and swallowed hard as I pushed “play”. When I faced him, he was watching me, his expression as curious as it was devilish. The music started and drowned out my thundering heartbeat.

I swiveled my hips and moved in time with the music, running my hands over my clothed hips and breasts, just like the dancers did in the videos I’d watched earlier that evening. A heartbeat’s worth of embarrassment flickered through my consciousness, but it faded as Eric’s lips parted. He shifted in the chair.

Still uncertain, but feeling a bit less self-conscious, I

unbuttoned my jacket and let it slide off my shoulders, then off of my arms, before tossing it aside. I started on the buttons of my shirt, watching his eyes as he watched me.

Without taking his eyes off of me, he reached into his pocket and pulled three condoms out, setting them on the table beside his chair.

“You seem pretty confident that you’ll be needing those,” I said as my shirt fell away enough to reveal my lacy red bra.

He exhaled and looked into my eyes. “With what you’re doing,” he sounded breathless already. “I don’t think three will be enough.”

I smiled and my self-consciousness was forgotten. I let my shirt fall to the floor and a moment later, dropped my skirt with it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed, staring at me, at the red garter belt. “Oh my God, that…” He chewed the second knuckle of his index finger, shaking his head and gripping the armrest with his other hand. Finally, he looked in my eyes and said, “You look fucking incredible.”

“Why thank you,” I said with a grin. I moved towards him, slowly, watching the way his breath caught each time my hips moved. He was holding the armrests with both hands now, barely breathing, his jeans barely accommodating how obviously turned on he was.

I had him right where I wanted him.

I turned around and put my hands over his on the armrests, slowly lowering myself into his lap. Leaning into him, I pushed my ass against his rock hard cock, grinning with satisfaction as his knuckles turned white and his breath whispered across my shoulder. He groaned softly.

I let my head fall back beside his. “Do you like that?” I whispered.

“Oh fuck yes. I love it.” He turned to kiss me, but I gave him a coy smile and stayed just out of reach. If he kissed me, I wasn’t going to be able to keep this going. As it was, I was barely keeping myself from trembling as badly as he was. I hadn’t counted on how difficult it would be to restrain myself.

I stood and turned around. I put one knee on the cushion beside his leg, shivering at the soft moan that escaped his lips when our legs touched, even if it was through my thigh-high stockings and his jeans. I brought my other knee up beside his other leg, straddling him in the chair and leaning forward so that my breasts were just out of reach of his mouth.

I bent and kissed his cheek, then flicked my tongue across his earlobe. He exhaled against my neck. Into his ear, I whispered, “Unhook my bra.”

He tensed and looked at me, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“Unhook it,” I said.

His hands shook as he reached behind me and struggled to unhook my bra. I grinned. He could unsnap a bra in his sleep most of the time, but not tonight. Indeed, I had him right where I wanted him. He cursed under his breath and a second later, my bra went slack around my shoulders. He started to pull it over my arms, but I leaned back and shook my head.

“I just said to unhook it.”

He released it and leaned back, chewing his lip and gripping the armrests again. “I want it off.” He was shaking, begging. And I loved it.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Why do you want it off?”

He closed his eyes and swallowed, then looked at me. “Because I want to see your tits.”

I reached up and pulled one of the straps over my shoulder, keeping my other arm across my breasts. “You want to see them?”

He chewed his lip and nodded. I let the other strap fall. He exhaled slowly, his eyes flicking back and forth between my eyes and my covered breasts.

Finally, I lowered my arms and let my bra fall into his lap.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. Leather creaked beneath his hands as he gripped the armrests tighter.

I leaned forward, but still stayed out of his reach. “If I let you touch me right now,” I whispered. “Where would you touch first?”

He wetted his lips. “Baby, the second you let me touch

you, I’m going to throw you down on that couch and fuck you.”

I grinned, loving what I was doing to him. “But if that wasn’t an option,” I bent and kissed his shoulder before rising to look him in the eye again. “What would you do?”

He swallowed hard and looked at my breasts, wetting his lips again as he struggled to speak. He raised his eyes to meet mine. “I’d have my hands all over your tits right now.”

I cupped one of my own breasts. “Like this?”

He nodded, breathing as if it took every bit of effort he could muster.

Bringing my other hand up, I let him watch my hands for a long moment. “Or would you do it like this?” And I took my nipples between my fingertips.

“Fuck yes,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help the soft moan as I rolled my nipples between my fingers. I was close to asking him to throw me down and fuck me, but I wasn’t ready to let this end, not yet. “What would you do next?”

A shiver ran through him. “I’d touch your clit,” he growled. “Until you came.” He drew in a long breath as he watched my hand drift down my side, across my hip, and over the garter belt towards my pussy.

My fingers circled my clit once and I whimpered. For a moment, my self-consciousness came crashing back to the surface. I wasn’t really masturbating in front of someone, was I?

But then I looked at his face, looked at the way he was looking at me, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “Jesus.” He looked into my eyes. I loved the barely-restrained desire in his voice, the unsteadiness. “I want to fuck you right now.”

“I know you do,” I said. “And you will. But not until I’m done with you.”

“You’re an evil woman.”

“Then we’re a perfect match.”

My fingers circled my clit, then again. A tremor rippled through me and I braced myself against the back of the chair with my other hand. I whimpered softly and kept working my clit with my fingers.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “I could watch this all

fucking night.”

I chewed my lip and looked him in the eye, watching him getting more and more aroused as I brought myself closer and closer to the edge. Then I turned my hand just slightly so that the back of it brushed his clothed erection with each rapid motion.

Letting his head fall back, he groaned in surprise, clinging to the armrests for dear life. “Holy…fuck.”

I wanted him, I needed him, I couldn’t wait to have him inside me, but I couldn’t stop. I was so close to coming, so close I couldn’t remember how to breathe. He looked into my eyes and he was as breathless as I was, his brow bunched and his lips parted as if he too was on the edge, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

With a cry of ecstasy I let myself go, bracing against the chair as my body shook, my fingertips still circling my clit until I couldn’t take anymore. I collapsed against him and his hands flew to my hips, holding me steady as I waited for the trembling to stop.

“Let me fuck you,” he pleaded. “Oh God, please let me fuck you now.”

I couldn’t speak. I could barely think. All I could do was nod, because I needed him like never before.

He grabbed one of the condoms off of the table as we both stood. He didn’t bother getting out of his clothes, pushing his jeans just far enough out of the way to free his cock as he ripped the condom packet with his teeth.

I started for the couch, but he grabbed my hips and turned me around. He bent me over the armchair and thrust his cock inside me. I held onto the armrests as he gripped my hips and fucked me, as he railed me. The room spun around me and everything went white as I came again.

He wasn’t far behind. Just as my orgasm was tapering, he groaned, “Oh my…God.” He released a growl that turned into a roar and kept pounding me until he drove himself as deep as he could inside me. The roar faded to a moan.

Pulling out slowly, he kept a hand on my hip. I’m not sure if he was trying to keep his own balance or keep me upright, but judging by how badly we both trembled, it may have been a little of both.

“That was incredible,” he said, turning me around and

pulling me into a kiss. “Absolutely fucking incredible.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said with a grin.

His eyes widened and he nodded. “That would be an understatement.” He ran his finger along the garter strap on my thigh. “That was easily one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.” Just before he kissed me again, he whispered, “And believe me, we are nowhere near finished tonight.”

Twenty Three

I met Chris at a club downtown one Friday night. He was an incredible dancer, a spine-tingling kisser, and judging by the rigid bulge beneath his jeans, he wasn’t lacking in size. He had a gorgeous ass and beautiful shoulders; I couldn’t help but wonder if he was hiding any ink under that black shirt. It was barely nine o’clock when we decided to get the hell out of the club and back to my place.

We were both a little lit, so we caught a cab. As soon as we were in the backseat and the driver knew where to go, Chris’ arms were around me and his tongue was in my mouth. I melted against him. My heart raced and my pussy ached with anticipation.

We made out all the way to my apartment, in the stairwell, against the front door, down the hall, finally making it into the bedroom after God only knows how long. He undressed me quickly, but I only managed to get his shirt off before we tumbled into bed. I was mildly disappointed that shoulders that gorgeous were free of ink, but what he was doing to my mouth, my neck, and my breasts more than redeemed his lack of tattoos.

He kissed his way down my stomach and I whimpered as his fingers drifted towards my pussy. His fingertips circled my clit gently a couple of times, then slid inside me, slowly at first.

“You like that?” he said.

I moaned softly. “Fuck yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m just getting started.”  With that, he suddenly thrust his fingers into my pussy and I yelped in pain and surprise. He continued in spite of my obvious flinch, apparently unaware that the sound that came out of my mouth was one of pain, not pleasure.

I tried to draw my hips back, so that he wouldn’t go quite so deep, but his hand followed. “Slower,” I said. “Just, go easy.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he said. “Trust me, baby.”

No, trust me, asshat, I know what feels good to my pussy. I gritted my teeth. He was really no worse than the clueless guys I’d had a lifetime ago, back before Darren showed me the light, but I was more frustrated than I’d ever been with any of them. Now that I knew what good sex was, I had very little tolerance for shitty sex, and even less for men who didn’t respond to my cues.

I swallowed my frustration and grabbed his hand. “Really,” I said. “Not so deep, not so fast.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “Gently.”

He nudged my hand away. “I told you, baby, I know what I’m doing.” He winked at me and resumed his two-fingered cervix jab.

Christ, enough. “Stop,” I said, the firmness in my own voice startling me.

He did, staring at me, completely dumbfounded. “What?”

I closed my eyes for a second and swallowed. Just the lack of his jack-hammering on my cervix was almost orgasmic. “What you’re doing,” I said, trying not to sound as aggravated as I was. “It’s not comfortable.”

With a snort of laughter, he said, “Come on, baby, I know how to do this.” He started again and I seized his wrist.

It wasn’t frustration that flared up in my chest this time: It was anger. “No,” I said through my teeth. “You don’t.”

He stopped, his jaw slack.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t like it. Please, stop.”

Running his free hand over my thigh, his caress doing nothing more than piss me off, he grinned and said, “No woman’s ever objected to it before.”

“Obviously I am.” I sat up, scooting back on the bed so that I was out of his reach.

He stared at me. “What are you doing?”

“Look, I like things a certain way, other women like

things a different way.”

He rocked back on his heels and furrowed his brow. “Why don’t we try something else, then?”

“Such as?”

He nodded towards the bed. “Lay back again.”

“Why?”

He leaned forward and kissed me. “I want to eat your pussy.” I hesitated, but it seemed like I had his attention, so I opted to give him another chance. I’d been dying to know what he could do with his mouth all night, and maybe he was better with his tongue than his hands. I couldn’t imagine that his tongue could be much worse. He laid me down on the bad and pushed my thighs apart gently.

The first few strokes of his tongue were exquisite, swirling around my clit until the room spun. Indeed, his tongue was far, far more talented than his fingers. I was more than a little thankful that I’d given him another chance.

That is, until he slid his fingers into my pussy. I tensed, anticipating the rough thrusting he’d done earlier, but he was slow and gentle. After a moment, when I was sure he had gotten the clue, I relaxed.

I let my guard down just in time to be bombarded by, not only his two-fingered cervix stab, but the roughest, most painful contact a tongue had ever inflicted on my clit. I yelped and heaved myself backwards, out of his reach.

“Come on, baby, relax,” he said, frustration tingeing his voice. He glared at me, infuriating me even more.

Just what right do you have to be frustrated, jackass? I thought. I’m the one whose pussy is being treated like a fucking dartboard.

I was done. A few months ago, I might have laid there and taken it, happy just to have a warm body in bed with me, but I wasn’t going to put up with his cocky attitude and clueless touch. Not when someone like Eric or Darren was a phone call away.

“Look, forget it,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and reaching for my bathrobe.

“What?” He stared at me, completely stunned.

“You know where the door is.” I started towards the bathroom. Though it unnerved me to leave a strange man alone in my bedroom, I was afraid that if I stayed in his presence another second, my foot was going to give his balls a slightly exaggerated demonstration of how painful his “skills” were.

“What the hell?” he called after me, his voice shrill with confusion and anger. “Every woman loves that.”

I turned on my heel in the doorway and glared at him, folding my arms across my chest. “Of course, so since I’m not enjoying it, clearly something is wrong with me.”

He blinked. “You just have to relax.”

“Pain makes it difficult to relax, you know.”

His lips twisted into an arrogant smirk. “Every woman before you came that way in no time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then clearly they were either masochistic or they were faking it.”

His jaw dropped. The anger evaporated from his expression and I swore that he was about to cry. Part of me felt mildly guilty; nothing killed a man’s ego like stealing his thunder in the bedroom. It bordered on cruel. But then, my cervix was aching furiously and my clit was throbbing in a very unpleasant way, so I couldn’t have cared less about his ego. I wasn’t about to pretend I was enjoying any of that crap just to appease his ego. My pussy wasn’t a charity.

“You’re a bitch,” he growled.

“Be that as it may, I’m going to go take a shower, and you are going to leave.”

Thankfully, he was still half-dressed, so all he had to do was snatch his shirt off of the floor and head out. I stepped out of his way and watched with no expression as he stormed out of my bedroom. He pulled his shirt over his head just as he was turning the corner into the living room, and I suppressed a laugh as he clipped his elbow on the corner of the wall and cursed.

My front door slammed and I released a breath, leaning against the wall. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d tensed until the knots of fury in my shoulders relaxed.

I went into the living room and turned the deadbolt. Chris didn’t strike me as the type to get violent or threatening, but I wasn’t going to take chances. He was likely waiting for a cab out in the parking lot, so he’d be in the area for at least a little while. The last thing I wanted was for him to come back up and try to apologize or—I

shuddered at the thought—try again.

I cursed under my breath. In spite of the soreness from Christopher McPussystabber, I was still horny as hell. I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even ten.

Darren was probably out, but he always had his phone with him. Eric was undoubtedly working, since it was Friday night, but I didn’t think I could handle him that night anyway. He was fantastic in bed, but I needed a somewhat gentler touch after what Chris had inflicted on my poor

pussy.

I fished my phone out of my purse and sent Darren a text message: Busy tonight?

Fifteen minutes later, I was pouring myself a second cup of coffee when my phone beeped. I flipped it open and laughed at his reply: Just out trying to get laid. You? Before I could reply, a second message came through: I thought you were going out tonight too.

I wrote back: Come over and I’ll tell you all about it.

Within seconds: Be there in twenty.

I laughed against the rim of my coffee cup. Men like Chris couldn’t take simple, direct instructions, but Darren could certainly read between the lines.

Twenty Four

“So what happened with this douchebag tonight?” Darren asked. He was laid back on my bed, one hand behind his head and the other playing with my hair.

“Put plain and simple, he was an idiot,” I said, smiling in spite of thoughts of Chris. My anger from earlier had evaporated, replaced by that delicious post-coital bliss.

Darren looked at me inquisitively. His blue eyes seemed more intense that night, the vivid color making my breath catch. I wondered if he ever wore colored contact lenses to make his eyes appear more blue, but I didn’t ask. He played with a strand of my hair and cocked his head. “An idiot? Do tell.”

I rolled my eyes. “Evidently he thought that stabbing my cervix with his fingers should be a turn-on.”

He laughed. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. He insisted that he knew what he was doing, that he always made women come in very short order that way.” I paused, then suppressed an evil giggle. “When he told me that…” I snorted with laughter.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said, snickering uncontrollably.

“Tell me,” he said. “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to stop laughing enough to speak. It had infuriated me hours ago, but now I found it hysterically funny. “I told him that they were either masochistic or they were faking it.”

His jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“I probably shouldn’t have. I’d already kicked him out of bed, so that was just insult to injury.”

Darren howled with laughter. “You kicked him out of bed?”

“Hell yeah. Was I supposed to let him keep doing that?”

“Absolutely not.” He beamed proudly. “I knew you had it in you.”

“What?”

“I knew you wouldn’t put up with shitty sex once you knew what good sex felt like,” he said. “And you wouldn’t put up with a jackass that couldn’t, or wouldn’t, figure out what he was doing.”

“You’ve taught me well, Master.”

“You’ve learned well, Young Grasshopper.”

I elbowed him playfully. “Thanks for coming over and taking care of me.”

He kissed me lightly. “The pleasure’s all mine.” He paused. “So, enough about bad sex. You mentioned that Casanova enjoyed your little lap dance?”

“I think he did.” I ran my fingers along the smooth grooves that divided Darren’s sculpted abs.

“The question is, did you enjoy it?”

I considered his question for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, I actually did. I wasn’t sure if I would, but it was fun. It was hot.”

“Told you it would be.” He trailed his fingers over my bare shoulder.

“You haven’t steered me wrong yet,” I laughed. “Where were you years ago?”

“Learning all of this stuff myself.”

I gave him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. “Come on,” he said. “You don’t think I was born knowing this, do you?”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder.” Especially since wild sex seems to be written into your family’s DNA.

“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “There was a time when I was so bad, I probably would’ve been no better than some of the guys you fucked not too long ago.”

“Now that I find hard to believe,” I said.

“Believe it.”

“You couldn’t have been as bad as the guy tonight.”

He paused. “Okay, I wasn’t that bad. But I had my moments.”

“I can’t imagine you being crap in bed.”

Darren shrugged. “Believe what you will. Everyone has to start somewhere.”

I was quiet for a moment, then looked at him and said, my tone serious, “But you don’t strike me as the type that’s ever been a selfish lover. Being inexperienced is one thing. Being selfish? I can’t imagine you that way.”

“I certainly hope I’ve never been that way,” he said, running his fingers through my hair again. “But I think someone who’s selfish in bed is no different out of the bedroom.”

I cocked my head. “How do you figure?”

“Well, if someone only cares about himself,” he said with a shrug. “Why would he be any different in bed?”

“Good point.”

“He might be able to pretend that he’s a charmer, a caring guy, but I don’t think he could keep that façade up in bed.” He paused. “Like that douchebag tonight? I’d be willing to bet money that he was a total charmer, but say you started seeing him? Six months from now, he’d be treating you like crap.”

I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t even thought about that. “Really?”

“In my own experience, the bedroom is where those true colors always begin to shine first.”

“Had a few selfish women?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded. “God, yes. One of them—Kate—Jesus, I don’t think she knew anything existed beyond the tip of her own damned nose.” The bitterness in his voice startled me. I vaguely remembered Kate. They’d only dated a few months, and she’d always struck me as a bit of a narcissist. He continued, “She seemed really sweet at first, but I should have known that first night in bed.”

“Do tell.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You want to hear my horror stories now?”

I snickered. “I’ve told you about the losers I’ve fucked. I think I’ve more than earned the right to hear some of your

bedroom failures.”

He laughed as he shifted his weight and sat up. “All right, all right. So, Kate…” He paused, pursing his lips. “That first night, it wasn’t too bad, but the first inklings were there. She didn’t just ask for what she wanted, she demanded it. And if I didn’t do it right, good God, she let me know it.”

“How so?”

“Oh, she’d roll her eyes, grumble, tell me to figure it the fuck out.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I mean, tell me what you want, guide me a bit, but don’t treat me like an idiot if I don’t get it right the first time.”

I sat up beside him. “I can’t imagine you getting anything wrong in the bedroom.”

He laughed and kissed me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s happened.”

“So what happened with Kate?”

“She just got worse and worse,” he said. “Demanding little cunt. I finally decided I’d had enough when she’d let me get her off a few times, then go to sleep and leave me to my own devices.”

I blinked. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am. I ended it in fairly short order after that. I mean, if I’m going to have sex with someone, I’m going to get her off, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect a bit of reciprocation.”

“Not unreasonable at all,” I muttered. “I can’t believe how many jackasses I’ve been with that don’t reciprocate.”

He trailed his fingers up my spine, sending a shiver through me. “But you’re not going to put up with that bullshit anymore, are you?”

“After fucking you, there isn’t much I’m going to put up with anymore.”

He laughed and kissed my shoulder. “Silver-tongued she-devil.”

I kissed him lightly. “So tell me more. I want to hear about the other crazies you’ve had in your bed.”

“Sadist.”

“So?”

“You’re evil.”

Funny, your brother said the same thing. “Tell me

about them.”

“Well, there was Dana. Remember her?”

“The blonde with the ‘Vette?”

“The one and only.”

He’d dated her for almost two years. Christ, that woman was a bitch. “So what happened with her?”

“She was actually fun in bed, at least at first,” he said. “She’s the one that was into BDSM.”

I blinked. “Really?”

He nodded. “In the beginning, it was awesome. We’d take turns being dominant and submissive. It was hot. Smoking hot.” He rolled his eyes. “But after a couple of months, things started to shift. It was always about what she liked, what she wanted, and she really wasn’t interested in putting any effort into what I wanted. That imbalance was painfully obvious in our sex life, and within a few months, it was the same in the rest of our life.” He exhaled. “You really can tell a lot about someone by the way they fuck, I’m telling you.”

“So I’ve come to understand.” I paused, pursing my lips.

“What?”

I looked up. “Huh?”

“You’re thinking something.”

I hesitated. “You, you said you were into BDSM with her.”

He shifted a little, turning so we were facing each other, and rested his hands on my knees. “I’ve been known to dabble in it with the right woman, yes.” He winked at me.

“Let me ask you something,” I said.

“No, I won’t wear a gimp mask.”

I laughed aloud. “Not that.”

“Thank God. Okay, shoot.”

I chewed my lip. “The whole BDSM thing,” I said. “Why?”

He smiled. “Why not?”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, smartass. Seriously, what’s the attraction to it?”

“Besides the black leather and corsets?”

“Besides that.”

“Okay, in all seriousness,” he said. “It’s three things:

Trust, pain, and control.”

I raised my eyebrows. He went on. “There’s two sides to the control thing. One is being in control of someone else. You have total power over someone else, you control how much pleasure they have, how much they can move. On the other hand, there’s being submissive: Letting someone else control you.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“It’s a blast,” he said with a devilish grin. “But in order to let someone control you, you have to trust them completely. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to let some girl I’ve just met handcuff me to a bed and whip me.”

I grimaced. “I don’t know that I’d let someone I knew do that.”

He winked at me. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” He laughed at the incredulous look on my face. “Seriously, being able to do that with someone—to surrender completely to their control—is a thrill in and of itself. And having someone else surrender completely to you—” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. “There’s nothing in the world quite like it.”

I had to admit, I was intrigued at this point. I’d never considered getting involved in any kind of bondage or dominance, but he’d piqued my curiosity. “So, what about the pain?”

Darren grinned. “It’s hard to describe, but it ties into the trust and control. There’s also the endorphin rush, and just the intense sensations.” He cocked his head. “You like being fucked hard, right? Thrown around a bit?”

I smirked. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He laughed. “And sometimes it hurts, doesn’t it?”

“When it’s done right, yes.”

“Bingo.” He grinned. “Different people like differing degrees of pain, but I think we understand each other, no?”

I shivered. I’d never thought of it that way, but he was absolutely right. I thought I’d enjoyed the roughness, the hair-pulling, the fingers digging into the point of bruising, in spite of the pain. But now that he mentioned it, the pain was just as thrilling as the pleasure.

He put his hands on my knees and traced his thumbs

in small circles on my bare skin. “So, about that gimp mask—”

“Absolutely not,” I laughed.

He chuckled. “Kidding. But you should give some of this stuff a try. I have a feeling you’d enjoy it.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to have my hands cuffed,” I said, suppressing a shudder.

“Well, no, but you don’t have to start with that,” he said. “Play around with some light restraint, nothing hardcore.” He grinned at me. “You said that Casanova likes to play rough, right?”

“Oh yes, definitely.”

“And he enjoyed your lap dance, when he wasn’t allowed to touch you?”

I thought of the way Eric chewed his lip, the way he begged me to let him fuck me. “You could say that.”

“Try some domination with him, then,” Darren said. “A little bit of restraint for him, putting yourself in complete control of him.”

“You want me to tie him up?”

He laughed. “Not necessarily. Honestly, ‘bondage’ is a bit of a misnomer. It’s more about restraint than actually binding someone to something. You don’t have to use cuffs, or anything like that. A pair of nylons, a shirt, even—” He closed his hands around my wrists and pinned them to my sides. “Hands. Because now, just by holding you like this—” He leaned towards me. “I can do whatever I want to you, and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it.”

He kissed my neck. I tried to pull my hands away, wanting to put my arms around him, but he held my wrists. “See?” he whispered. “I’m in control.” He flicked his tongue across the hollow of my throat, and I whimpered.

He let me go and leaned back, chuckling as I shivered. “Give it a try with him,” he said. “Seriously. He’ll love it.”

“So, what do I do? Just restrain his hands and…” I shook my head. “What?”

“Restrain his hands and do whatever the fuck you want to him. It doesn’t mean you have to beat the hell out of him or any of that. Just being the one who’s one hundred percent in control of everything—of what he touches, of how fast you’re fucking him, of how deep he can get inside you—can be incredibly hot.” He ran his fingertips along my inner thigh. “For both of you.”

Indeed, I was intrigued now. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned forward. “Trust me. Take control. He’ll love it.”

I gave him a devilish grin. “Assuming he’s a pervert like you?”

He feigned offense. “I am not a pervert.”

“Bullshit,” I said with a grin just before I kissed him. “The depth of your perversion never ceases to amaze me, Darren.”

“My perversion?” He laughed against my lips and pulled me into his arms. “You are mistaken.”

“Liar,” I said.

“If these accusations were true,” he said, lowering me slowly to the bed. “And I was the pervert you claim I am, then I’d grab another condom off the nightstand and fuck you until you screamed again.”

“Is that so?”

He kissed me. “Indeed, it is.”

He reached for the nightstand.

Twenty Five

Take control, he’ll love it. Darren’s words resonated through my mind as I waited for Eric to show up. I lounged on the sofa, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time. I wasn’t nervous this time, not like I was the night I’d given him a lap dance. If anything, I was anxious. I wanted him. I wanted him now.

And I wanted to see the startled look on his face when he came through the door and saw me waiting for him…completely naked.

A knock at the door startled me. “It’s open,” I called out. A split second’s worth of panic went through me as I thought it might be someone else, but when the door opened, it was him.

His jaw fell open and his eyebrows lifted. He pushed the door shut and leaned against it, still staring at me.

I grinned at him. He returned it and came towards me as I got up off the couch. He put his arms around me and kissed me, his smoky-flavored kiss making me weak. Stay in control, I told myself.

He kissed my neck and slid his hand towards my pussy, but I stopped him. He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m calling the shots again tonight,” I said.

“Is that so?” He kissed my neck and ran his fingers up my back. I resisted the urge to shiver. My knees shook as he rested his hand on the small of my back and pulled me towards him. As confident as I’d been before he arrived, I’d forgotten just how hard it was to keep myself in control, let alone dominate him.

I swallowed hard. “Yes, it is so.”

He looked at me and smirked. “And just what makes you think I’m going to let you take control again?”

I grinned. “Because I know how much you enjoyed it last time.”

His lips parted slightly and he shivered. Busted.

“That’s what I thought,” I said with a laugh.

He kissed me, then cocked his head. “So what evil things do you have in mind tonight?”

I stepped back. “Strip.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” I gave him a cheeky grin.

“I don’t have to dance, do I?”

I laughed. “No. Just get your clothes off. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. I chewed my lip, staring at his tattoos, his muscles. It never ceased to amaze me how gorgeous he was, particularly without clothes on. I resisted the urge to lick my lips as he tossed his jeans over the back of a chair.

He looked at me, lifting his eyebrow curiously. “I suppose I’m not allowed to touch you?”

I grinned. “Absolutely not.” I stepped towards him, putting my hands on his shoulders. “But I’m allowed to touch you.”

“You’re evil,” he whispered hoarsely as I kissed his neck.

“You haven’t seen evil yet,” I said. He opened his mouth to question me, but I slid my hand between us and wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking it gently. He took in a sharp breath. I leaned forward and kissed his neck, flicking my tongue across the edge of one of his tattoos. “I’m going to do whatever I want to you,” I said, letting my lip brush his ear as I spoke. “And you’re going to lie back and take it.”

He laughed softly. “You make that sound like some sort of punishment.”

“Punishment? Not at all. But I loved watching you beg for it last time.” I squeezed his cock. His breath caught. “And I intend to make you beg for it again this time.”

He tried to speak, but I trailed a fingertip along the underside of his cock and he paused, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. He exhaled, then said, “You’re an

evil woman.”

“And?” Before he could respond, I went to my knees and ran my tongue around the head of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered as I did it again.

I stroked him lightly, my hand barely touching him as it ran up and down his cock. My lips were less than an inch away from him. I looked up at him and he was watching me, barely breathing, his eyebrows lifted slightly. I licked my lips and he closed his eyes and did the same.

“Fucking tease,” he growled in that smoke-roughened voice.

“Last time I checked,” I said, making sure I was close enough to his cock that my breath whispered across it. “You enjoy being teased.” His cock twitched in my hand and I grinned at him.

“You’re a wicked, wicked woman,” he said.

“How so?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but without warning, I deep-throated him. He grabbed the back of the sofa to brace himself as I did it again and again. “Jesus Christ…”

I fucked him with my mouth and stroked his cock, savoring his every gasp and groan.

His cock twitched in my mouth and his knees buckled. “Fuck…” It came out as little more than a whisper.

I slowed down, not wanting him to come just yet. “Tell me what you want,” I said, looking up at him as I squeezed his cock with one hand.

He moaned. “I want—” His breath caught as my tongue circled the head of his cock.

“I can’t hear you,” I said with a grin. Again he tried to speak, and again I distracted him with my tongue.

Finally, he managed a hoarse “I want to fuck you.” The unmistakable desperation in his voice turned me on.

“I still can’t hear you,” I said, not even trying to hide how much I loved this.

He looked down at me. “I want to fuck you. Please let me fuck you.” I shivered; just like the night I’d stripped for him, I had him exactly where I wanted him.

I stood and kissed him. He started to put his arms around me, then stopped, evidently remembering the rule about not touching me.

I led him into the bedroom and handed him one of the condoms off of the night table. He quickly tore it open, his hands shaking as he put it on. As soon as it was on, he pulled me into a deep kiss. For a moment, I forgot my own rule and let him do it, but through the delirium of his ravenous kiss, I remembered.

I stepped back and nodded towards the bed. “Get on your back.”

His expression was blank as if he was either surprised at what I’d said or was struggling to comprehend it. Perhaps a little of both. From the way he was trembling, I doubt he understood much of the English language at that point.

I gently pushed his shoulders. “On your back.”

His eyes never leaving mine, he did as I ordered. I followed, straddling him and leaning forward to kiss him, rubbing my pussy against his cock.

“Fuck me,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“God, yes.”

I pushed harder against his cock. “You’d like to be all the way inside me, wouldn’t you? Fucking me hard and deep?”

He groaned softly and nodded.

“How do you want my pussy, Eric?” I whispered, letting the head of his cock just barely press into my pussy. “Slow and gentle? Hard and fast?”

He moaned, then took a breath, but each time he tried to speak, I moved just enough to make him lose his concentration. Finally he grabbed my hips and growled, “I want to fuck you hard and fast, until you scream.”

I snatched his wrists, first one, then the other, and pinned them to the bed beside his head. “Hard and fast?” I asked with a grin.

His eyes flicked towards my hands on his wrists, then back to my eyes. Though he was easily stronger than me, he didn’t fight. Even if it was killing him, he was playing by the rules,.

I took just the head of his cock inside me. He groaned with both pleasure and frustration. Leaning forward, I swiveled my hips and whispered in his ear, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” he said. His brow furrowed and his lips parted. In my hands, his arms trembled. “Please, fuck me.”

I rose off of him, then took just a little bit more of him into my pussy, moving as slowly as I could. “Tell me more.”

He exhaled, lifting his hips to try to fuck me deeper, but I moved out of his reach. He groaned with frustration. “Fuck me hard and fast, baby.” He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “Oh my fucking God I want you now.”

I took him a little deeper, then rose.

He licked his lips again. “Fuck, I want—” But he stopped abruptly as I suddenly took all of him into my pussy in one quick stroke. His eyes flew open and he gasped. “Jesus Christ…”

A moan threatened to escape my own lips, but I forced myself to stay in control in spite of the overwhelming desire—need—to fuck him as hard and fast as humanly possible. I rose slowly, as slowly as I could, then came back down. He shivered beneath me and moaned as my pussy yielded to his thick cock. I was barely in control, but he was long past that point.

The muscles in his wrists twitched within my grasp as he clenched his fists. “You’re such a tease,” he groaned.

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.” He looked at me as I rose off of him again. Through his teeth, he said, “I could easily—” I silenced him by taking him all the way inside me in another quick stroke. He released a helpless moan.

Smirking, I said, “You could easily what?”

He took a breath. “Throw you on your back and fuck the hell out of you.”

That suggestion was oh so tempting, but I wasn’t giving this up yet. I loved the way he was begging, the way he was losing his mind. “You could,” I said, raising myself off of him with another long, slow motion of my hips. “But you won’t.”

He met my eyes and I know he heard the challenge in my voice, but he didn’t struggle. I quickened my pace just slightly. His back arched and he exhaled as my pussy enveloped him inch by agonizing inch. His entire body was trembling.

Leaning forward and flicking my tongue across his

earlobe, I laughed softly as he took a sharp breath. I was almost all the way off of his cock as I whispered, “Why are you shaking, Eric?”

He swallowed. “Because you’re driving me—” His words disintegrated into a moan as I took him all the way inside me again.

I started to rise off of him. “I’m driving you, what?”

“Fucking…” He took a shallow breath, licked his lips. “Insane.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I have you right where I want you.”

He looked into my eyes, scrunching his brow as if trying to comprehend what I’d said, but a moment later he closed his eyes and exhaled. His hips lifted off the bed to meet mine, but I adjusted my movements each time so that I was still in complete control of how deep and how fast we fucked. His breath came in short, shallow gasps now.

“Faster,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh Jesus, faster.”

But I didn’t fuck him faster. I kept my slow, steady pace, taking his cock into my pussy inch by agonizing inch as he lost his mind beneath me.

“Oh God,” he groaned. “Oh fuck…” He drew in a ragged breath. “Faster, baby, oh fuck…”

But still, I didn’t. His entire body trembled, the cords in his neck taut and his eyes closed as he surrendered to me with each slow stroke.

“Oh…my…God…” he growled. His breath caught. His eyes flew open and looked into mine, his brow furrowing as his lips parted. He was on the edge, right on the brink, but still it kept building, and still I kept moving slowly, so slowly as he released a throaty, helpless moan. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come…”

That’s when I gave him everything I had, abandoning my slow pace and fucking him as hard and fast as I possibly could, and a second later, his back arched. He cried out, thrusting his hips upward and driving his cock deep inside me. I kept riding him as he roared and shook and cursed beneath me, kept fucking him until he wrenched his wrists free and grabbed my hips, forcing me to stop.

He lay still for a moment, holding my hips tight as he

struggled to breathe. I squeezed him with my pussy and he gasped, then moaned softly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips. “That was…” He looked at me, at his own hands on my hips, at the ceiling, at me again, and took in a long breath. “Holy hell…” Sliding his hands up my back, he pulled me down to him and kissed me. “You are a wicked, wicked woman.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughed. “Not at all.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “But rest assured, I am going to get even with you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Twenty Six

I walked into the break room with my empty coffee cup, and didn’t bother dropping my gaze as the Millers eyed me on my way in. They continued their gossiping without missing a beat, not caring what I overheard.

“Oh, if his wife only knew about the way those two flirt,” Marilyn said, clicking her tongue.

“You should have seen them the other day at lunch,” said Darleen. “The way they were whispering, I’d almost think they were planning something.”

“Morning, ladies,” I said with a smile as I brushed past them and filled my coffee.

Their heads turned as one towards me, pausing their conversation long enough to exchange brief pleasantries. On my way out, I couldn’t help but laugh at the conspiratorial way they discussed and analyzed our co-workers’ alleged relationship.

I think every last one of them would have had heart failure if they knew that I, the quiet, shy girl in accounting who looked at the floor more than anything else, had a man pinned down and begging for more the night before. I grinned into my coffee cup. Oh Millers, if you only knew the gossip fodder lurking quietly in the accounting department.

My good humor didn’t last long. Not five minutes after I returned to my cubicle, the inevitable stack of file folders slapped onto my desk, scaring about ten years off my life as it always did.

“By five, of course,” Trudy said. She must have been in a hurry; she didn’t stay to watch me quietly fume.

“Whatever, bitch,” I muttered when I was sure she was out of earshot.

“What?” Colette’s voice startled me.

“Oh, sorry.” I rubbed my eyes and gestured towards the files. “The Wicked Witch of Purchasing just left.”

“I figured as much. You know, I would pay good money to see you tell her off one of these days.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered. “I’d be too afraid of getting fired.”

She snorted. “Come on, I think you’d get a promotion if you told that witch off.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Please. There isn’t an employee here that wouldn’t gladly kick that woman in the box.”

I snickered.

“My God, I would have expected you to turn beet red over that,” she said.

If you only knew what it took to turn my face red now, Colette. I shrugged. “Guess I’m not surprised by you anymore.”

“Well, fuck,” she said. “Guess I’ll have to change my shtick.” She sat in the chair beside my desk. Her voice low, she said, “Seriously, if you tell that bitch off, I don’t think anyone here will condemn you for it. She deserves it.”

“And I’m the only one who can do it?”

“Of course not, it’s been done. But if Marisa the Church Mouse did it, it might get her attention. Or at least blow a synapse or two in her head.”

Marisa the Church Mouse who had Eric Knight losing his ever-loving mind while she held him down on the bed last night. I laughed and shook my head, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Twenty Seven

Darren kicked his bedroom door shut behind us and pulled me into his arms. “So,” he said, guiding me towards the bed “Did you try taking control with Casanova?”

I put my arms around his neck. “Try? Please.”

He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Obviously it worked, then.”

“Quite well, if I may say so myself.”

He put his hands on my hips and pulled me against him. “So he enjoyed it?”

“From the way he came, it wouldn’t surprise me if my neighbors had to have a cigarette.”

“Good,” he said with a slight nod. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“With as much as he enjoyed it,” I said, dropping my gaze and biting my lip. “It kind of…got my attention.”

“How do you mean?”

I shrugged, my cheeks burning. In spite of my comfort with him, it was still embarrassing to admit to having desires that went beyond what most considered “normal”. “I, well, I think I’d like to be on the receiving end of it sometime.”

Running his hands up and down my sides, he kissed me. “I expected as much.”

“What?”

He smiled. “I had a feeling that once you tried it, you’d like to give it a try from the other angle.”

“That was all part of your evil plan, wasn’t it?”

Feigning offense, he said, “Marisa, I would never send you out to do something sexual with any ulterior motives on my part.”

“Lying bastard.”

“Hey, it benefits you either way.” He grinned as he kissed me again. “So you think you’d like to give the submissive thing a try, do you?”

“Well, Casanova seemed to enjoy it,” I said, very nearly using Eric’s name, which I’m sure would have killed the mood.

He paused, thinking for a moment. Then he trailed his fingertips up my spine. “What did you have in mind?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I have no qualms about helping you live out this little fantasy,” he said with a wink. “But there are so many different degrees of dominance and submission. I can just hold you down and have my way with you.” He laughed softly as my breath caught. “Or I can handcuff you to the bed. Pull your hair and throw you around. Flog you. It’s really up to you.” He paused, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “I might even have a—”

“No gimp mask.”

“Damn.” He laughed. “So, just submission, or do you want to try some bondage?”

I chewed my lip. A few weeks ago, that word would have made me visibly cringe, but I was intrigued. “That could be fun.”

“Excellent,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to tie you up.” He laughed at the startled expression on my face, but then his expression turned serious. “Just tell me how far you want it to go. Whatever you want, short of a gimp mask, I’m game.”

I considered it for a moment. “A little bit of bondage, maybe. And I think I like the sound of pulling my hair and throwing me around. Basically, you take control and do whatever you want to me.” I narrowed my eyes and gave him a challenging look. “Assuming you have it in you to get that rough.”

He twisted my hair in his hand and said, “The question is, can you handle it?”

“Whatever you can dish out. Bring it on.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He laughed and kissed my neck before loosening—but not releasing—his grip on my hair. “In all seriousness, though, just tell me if I get too rough, if you want me to stop. I’m not in this to hurt you.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” I said.

“Just in case,” he said. “You know how a safe word works, right? Just say it, and everything stops immediately, no matter what.”

I nodded, as much as I could with the firm grasp he had on my hair.

“If you want to stop, just say the word ‘red’.”

“Got it.”

He parted his lips as if to speak, but instead, he suddenly twisted my hair in his fist and pulled my head back. I gasped, more from surprise than pain. I hadn’t expected it, but I loved it. Through his teeth, he said, “You can start by sucking my cock.” The snarl in his voice—the uncharacteristic command—turned me on, and my knees buckled willingly as he led me down by my hair. I whimpered, almost silently.

His demeanor softened, though his grip didn’t. “You all right?”

I murmured an affirmative. My scalp hurt just a little bit, but I loved it. More than that, I loved the fact that he was in complete control, that I was going to do whatever he told me to do and I was going to like it.

With his free hand, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. I licked my lips.

“You want that, don’t you?” he said with a laugh as he brought his cock out and stroked it, keeping it just out of my reach. “Do you want to suck my cock, Marisa?”

I licked my lips again, trying to crane my neck, but he tightened his fist around my hair, triggering another whimper.

“Say please.”

Oh fuck, now you want me to speak? “Please,” I whispered.

“Please what?”

“Let me…” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as he slowly stroked his cock just inches from my mouth.

“Let you what, Marisa?” He inched closer to me. My mouth watered.

“Let me…” I looked up, hoping that I would have an easier time talking if I took my eyes off of his cock, but when I met his eyes, I couldn’t even think. The intensity in his narrow blue eyes and the way his lip curled into a snarl that was as arousing as it was intimidating conspired to make my mind go completely blank.

“If you want it,” he growled. “You’re going to have to ask for it.”

I wetted my lips again. “I want…let me…” I swallowed. Somehow, I found my voice. “Let me suck your cock. Please.” He said nothing, just pulled me forward by the hair and gave me the head of his cock, no more.

“That’s all you get for now.” Pushing his cock between my lips, he exhaled slowly as I eagerly took what he gave me. He pulled away, then came back, teasing my lips just as I’d teased Eric with my pussy, letting no more than an inch slide in. The more he withheld, the more I wanted it. I don’t think a man had ever tasted so fucking incredible.

I tried to lean forward, to steal just a little bit more, but his fist in my hair kept me still. He pulled away, laughing at the frustrated sound I made when his cock slipped out of my reach.

“I didn’t say you could have more.”

“Please…”

His snort of laughter infuriated and aroused me. “I don’t know, you tried to take more than you were allowed to have. You aren’t being very obedient.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, only slightly surprised by the sheer desperation in my own voice.

“You won’t do it again, will you?” He brought me closer to his cock, so close that I could have licked it, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t even dare lick my own lips for fear of touching him and making him take it away again.

“I won’t,” I said, barely moving my lips as he stroked his cock dangerously close to my mouth. “I promise, I won’t.” He drew back and I couldn’t stop the pitiful, frustrated sound that came from my mouth.

“You do want more, don’t you?”

I tried to nod. In spite of his vise grip on my hair, I stood a better chance of successfully nodding than speaking.

“You want to suck the whole thing, don’t you? The whole damn thing?”

“Yes,” I somehow managed. “Please.”

His voice was barely a whisper—a hoarse, growling whisper—as he said, “I know how I can keep you from taking more than you’re allowed this time.”

I gulped. Anticipation? Fear? Arousal? I had no idea. All I could do was repeat, “Please.”

“You can’t take more than you’re allowed,” he said. “If I give you the whole fucking thing.”

He didn’t give me a chance to react, to even comprehend, before he pulled my face to his cock. I took it all, easily—as easily as I could, given his size—and eagerly. Electricity traveled up my spine as if he were fucking my pussy instead of my mouth.

I tried to move back and forth, letting him slide in and out of my mouth, but his grip on my hair impeded me. He must have felt my struggle, because at that moment, he loosened his fist, letting me devour him. I put my hands on his thighs for balance, sucking him harder and faster, taking as much of his cock into my mouth as I could. I’d always loved going down on Darren, but he’d made me ache for the taste of his cock like I ached for my own orgasms, and if this continued much longer, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I came just from this.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. His fingertips gently kneaded my scalp and his hips moved slightly, in time with my own movements. “Fuck, just like that.”

I moaned, and in that instant, his fist tightened around my hair and he abruptly pulled me away from his cock.

“That’s enough of that,” he said, his tone one of playful teasing.

“But…” How the hell was he so in control? I was going down on him, he was the one receiving, yet I was the one losing my mind?

“That was just to give you a taste.” His voice darkened to a low growl. “Now stand up.” His fist echoed his command, twisting my hair just enough that I had no choice but to follow.

He released my hair and stepped back. The sudden lack of contact was jarring, as was the intense way he stared at me. “Take your clothes off and lay on the bed.”

I blinked. I wasn’t accustomed to this demanding side

of him. It startled me, unsettled me, but I loved it. Trying to ignore the way he watched me, the scrutiny in his expression, I did as he ordered, letting my shirt fall to the floor, followed shortly by my jeans. For some reason, I paused before taking my bra and panties off. I had no reason to doubt that he meant I was to remove all of my clothes, but I hesitated. I gave him an inquisitive look.

He nodded. “All of it.” His hand was on his cock, stroking slowly as he watched me.

I swallowed and unclasped my bra. It was odd to feel so modest, so exposed, in front of Darren, but this was an odd scenario. He’d seen me naked many times before, but he was watching me. He was giving me orders. He’d already chastened me once when I didn’t do exactly as he’d told me.  I didn’t want to make a wrong move, not for fear of humiliation on my part or anger on his, but because I didn’t want to give him anymore of a reason to withhold his cock.

I realized then that my hesitation was not a result of modesty, but vulnerability. Though I trusted him implicitly, he was in absolute control. Even without touching me, without saying a word, without doing anything more than watching me and stroking himself—fuck, Darren, you’re killing me—he was completely, one hundred percent, in control.

“Now lie down on the bed,” he said as I dropped the last of my clothes on the floor. I did, and he quickly got out of his own clothes. His belt buckle clanged a moment before his jeans hit the floor, and I chewed my lip. Oh Jesus, Darren take it all off. I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing steady. Tried to remember how to breathe at all. I couldn’t remember ever needing him this badly, so badly that I couldn’t even look at him.

He sat on the bed and leaned towards me. No, across me. I opened my eyes and out of the corner of my eye, something silver glinted in the light. I turned my head just in time to see him snap one side of a set of handcuffs onto one of the vertical slats of the headboard.

My lips parted in surprise. He flashed me a grin and picked up my hand, pulling it gently towards the headboard. I swallowed hard as cold metal snapped around my wrist. Then he did the same with another pair of cuffs and my

other wrist. The cuffs creaked as he adjusted their tension.

“Is that too tight?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I shook my head. It wasn’t comfortable, the edges bit into my skin, but I’d manage.

He trailed his fingertips down my side. The softness of his touch contrasted dramatically with the sharpness of the cuffs digging into my wrists. “Now I have you right where I want you,” he whispered, his breath hot on my nipple. His fingers brushed over my hip bone, then pushed my thighs apart. I moaned as he touched my clit, but he only circled it once or twice before he moved his hands away. I whimpered in protest.

He laughed. “You want more of that?”

“Please,” I said.

He rested his hand on my inner thigh, dangerously close to my pussy, but not touching it. “You want me to play with your clit, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do. Please.”

He kissed my shoulder, my neck. “Maybe slide my fingers into your pussy and let my hand play with your clit instead?” The hand on my inner thigh moved slightly, almost imperceptibly, imitating the delicious movement I so desperately wanted him to perform on my clit.

My entire body was trembling. “Please.”

His lips brushed my earlobe, raising goosebumps all over my arms as he said, “You want me to do that, and keep doing it until you fucking scream, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

He kissed below my ear. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes. Please, Darren, please.”

“No.”

It was a simple declaration. No explanation, no additional thoughts, just a one-word denial. It echoed in the silence between us as he kissed the side of my neck.

I clenched my fists and strained against the handcuffs as he trailed his fingers up and down my sides, my inner thighs, over my breasts. For an eternity, he did nothing more than touch me. Caress me. Breathe on me.

I bit my tongue. I wanted to call him a tease, to tell him to just fucking put his hand on my pussy and stop teasing me, but I didn’t dare. He was calling the shots. I was at his mercy. Resistance would only mean more frustration, more denial.

“I love watching you like this,” he said, his voice breaking the stillness and startling me. “You’re losing your fucking mind, aren’t you?”

No point in denying it. I’m sure my aggravation was written across my face, if not across my trembling, squirming body. “Yes, I am.”

He laughed. “Good.”

Then he stopped what he was doing. His body shifted and my pulse jumped. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard as the trembling worsened. Up until that second, I’d wanted him to stop teasing me, to  just do something instead of just tormenting me, but now that he was about to do something else, I wanted to scream at him to just go back to what he was doing. The uncertainty of what else he had up his sleeve was maddening.

I waited. My eyes were screwed shut. I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid to move, afraid to just lie there. I sensed him close by, but he was still and silent. He was planning something. No. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t planning a damned thing: He was executing it, using this silent stillness to drive me insane before his next move. I had no doubt he was watching me with a look of total amusement as I squirmed in anticipation.

I chewed my lip. I waited. I twisted my hands around and gripped the chains on the handcuffs, just to stop the shaking.

My every sense was heightened. The nerves in my skin may as well have been electrified, the hairs standing on end, waiting for him to finally make contact, somewhere, somehow.

The mattress shifted slightly; Darren was moving. I sensed him over me, felt the heat of his body near my hip, but still he didn’t touch me.

I held my breath.

Fuck. Fuck.

A single cool breath touched my hip bone. I gasped and my entire body came up off the bed as if he’d shocked me. My eyes flew open and I looked down at him. He blew on my hip bone again, grinning at me, at the way I shook

now more than before.

“Jesus Christ,” I said.

He laughed. More breath on my skin. I shivered.

I moaned and closed my eyes again. I’d always expected any kind of BDSM to involve whips and chains, roughness and pain. Yet Darren was, aside from when he’d held my hair earlier, being more gentle than ever. Gentle, but completely dominant. Completely in control.

I had never imagined that this level of frustration existed. More than that, I would never have believed that I could be so damned frustrated, so fucking infuriated, and so breathlessly aroused all at the same time. I wanted to smack him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to fuck him until the end of time.

He moved again, this time settling between my thighs so that I could feel his breath right on my clit. I jumped when his fingertips touched my pussy lips.

“Your pussy is so wet,” he whispered. He let one finger slide into me, then a second. “Christ, I could fuck you right now.” He looked up at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I clenched my teeth. There was no right answer. If I said no, he wouldn’t. If I said yes, he’d drag it out. My frustration made it to the tip of my tongue before my brain could hold it back: “Fuck.”

He laughed, kissing my inner thigh gently. “I will, don’t worry.”

I’m sure you will. I’m sure you fucking will. But for the love of God, Darren, don’t wait much longer or your bed is going to burst into flames. But the only sound that came out was a pitiful moan.

I moaned again as the heat of his mouth made contact with my pussy. Finally. Finally, he was going to do something to give me the release I needed.

Or so I thought. His tongue made slow, gentle circles around my clit. Around it, but not touching it. Staying just far enough away to keep from stimulating it directly, but close enough to keep me from drawing a proper breath.

His fingers slid in and out, bending slightly, but narrowly, deliberately avoiding my G-spot.

And he kept doing it, licking around my clit, fingering around my G-spot. Playing with me, but refusing to give me what he knew I wanted, what he knew I needed. And knowing him, with his endless patience and self-control, he could have done it all night.

Stop fucking teasing me and give me a Goddamned orgasm, you son of a bitch!

He laughed. “Making demands now, are we?”

My breath caught. It was only then that I realized that I had actually spoken the words aloud.

He brought his head up and looked at me, still making those maddening strokes inside me with fingers. “You know I’m making the rules tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He clicked his tongue. “Ah, but you’ve broken the rules twice tonight.”

Bloody hell. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered his head again. When he spoke, his breath whispered across my clit, sending lightning bolts through me. “You’re going to have to make up for that, you know.”

I swallowed. “How?”

“There’s really only one thing you can do.”

If I wasn’t shaking before, I was now. I had no idea what to expect, no idea what he could possibly do to torment me more than this. My mouth was dry as I said, “Tell me what I have to do.”

He didn’t speak. He kept his aggravating movements going. The silence, the anticipation of his “punishment”, combined with what he was deliberately not doing to my clit and G-spot, were making me come completely and utterly undone.

“Tell me,” I pleaded. “Please, tell me.”

He stopped what he was doing with his tongue just long enough to whisper a single word. “Come.”

The word hadn’t even registered in my consciousness before he made contact with both my G-spot and my clit, and I did exactly as he ordered. Everything went white, everything spun, and I must have screamed every obscenity I knew a dozen times over before I finally came back to Earth.

He pushed himself up and came up to kiss me. I was vaguely aware of the heat of his body against mine, but most of my conscious thought was distracted by his erect cock

pressing against my thigh.

“I think,” he said, kissing me with the sweet taste of my pussy on his tongue. “That I should fuck you.” He didn’t wait for me to tell him if I wanted him to do it or not. I’m sure he knew the answer, and he was calling the shots anyway.

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, sitting back so that he could put it on.

I released the chains on the handcuffs and turned my hands, trying to get them comfortable. I’d almost forgotten about them, but now that I was slightly calmer, the discomfort was noticeable.

Darren glanced up at my hands. “Are the cuffs hurting you?” He wasn’t playing around this time, he was being serious.

I shook my head. “They’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Good.” He lowered himself over me. I tensed, not sure if he was going to tease me, or if he—

He slammed his cock all the way inside me, taking my breath away, then immediately withdrew. “Do you want more?”

Oh God, he isn’t done yet, is he? “Yes,” I moaned. “God yes.”

“Beg for it.” He slammed into me again, withdrew. “I want to hear you scream for my cock.” The head of his cock teased my pussy, melting any chance I had of forming a coherent thought. “Come on,” he said softly, letting his lips brush the side of my neck. “Beg for it. Scream for it or I will pull all the way out.”

My chest seized at the thought of him pulling out. He couldn’t. Not with how badly my body ached for his cock. “Fuck me,” I said. “Fuck me. Please. Hard.”

“Louder.”

I raised my voice just above a desperate whisper. “Fuck me.”

He slammed into me again, pulled out. “Say it like you mean it, Marisa. Let the whole damned city know how much you want my cock.”

Eric’s face flickered through my consciousness. I

imagined him in the next room, listening, getting turned on by my screams.

Darren started to pull all the way out, but I lifted my hips, took a breath, and made sure he heard me. “Fuck me! Oh God, Darren, fuck me, please!”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he growled, and he fucked me.

Now that I’d found my voice, I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I screamed for him, begged for more, begged him not to stop. I was desperate to touch him, to claw at his sweating, quivering shoulders and hold on to him, but I couldn’t. My arms strained against the handcuffs and I didn’t care how much they dug into my wrists. Since my hands were restrained, I planted my heels on the bed and thrust my hips up to meet him.

In the back of my mind I wondered if he would stop, would punish me for daring to move, but the groan that reverberated against my neck told me the time for games was over. He fucked me harder. I returned his thrusts harder. My throaty cry faded into a helpless moan as a breathtaking orgasm sent icy waves of electricity rippling up my spine from my G-spot, from my clit, from God only knew where, from everywhere.

And still Darren fucked me. Each breath he released against my neck was shorter and sharper than the last. His rhythm faltered and his shoulders bunched above his trembling arms. His breath caught and he slammed into me, a violent shudder working its way up his spine as he released a deep roar.

For a long moment, he was still, just breathing against my neck, trembling. Then he lifted his head and kissed me lightly.

He shifted his weight to one arm and reached over my head. One of the handcuffs released. A second later, the other. I brought my hands down, flexing my fingers and wrists gingerly.

“Shit, that’s going to leave a mark, isn’t it?” he said. I looked at my wrists, and sure enough, an angry red welt encircled each just below the heel of my hand.

“I’ll live,” I said.

He smiled. “I know.” He kissed me, then eased himself

off of me and went to take care of the condom. When he came back, he put his arms around me.

“That was incredible,” I said.

He kissed me gently. “Even when you wanted to kill me?”

I laughed. “How did you know?”

“I had a hunch.” He played with my hair. “You wouldn’t be the first sub that was thinking of kicking the dom’s ass.”

“You’re lucky I was handcuffed.” I kissed him. “You can be a merciless tease, you know that?”

“Well, that was the idea, wasn’t it?”

“Fair enough.”

“I won’t tease you anymore tonight, I promise,” he said, kissing me deeply.

“Don’t say that.”

“Are you suggesting that you want me to tease you some more tonight?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m telling you that unless you want your ass kicked, you will do it again.”

His eyebrows jumped. His hand snaked into my hair. “Now, that’s awfully mouthy of you.” The gentle, playful Darren slowly transformed back into the dominant, commanding Darren. His fingers closed around my hair. Through his teeth, he said, “What did I tell you about making demands?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Refresh my memory.”

His fist tightened in my hair, taking my breath away. “Rest assured,” he snarled into my ear. “You won’t forget this time.”

Twenty Eight

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I gently freed myself from Darren’s arms and got up to get a drink. I found my T-shirt and panties in the darkness and slipped out of the room, careful not to wake him up. It seemed a bit strange to feel the need to cover myself in a house occupied only by men with whom I frequently had sex, but wandering around naked seemed even stranger. Modesty won, regardless of the irony of the situation.

The apartment was dark and silent, so I assumed that Eric was either still at work or asleep. As I turned the corner into the kitchen, though, the telltale wisp of smoke wafted in front of the sliding glass door. He was home, and he was awake.

I couldn’t make out his face; the bright city lights backlit him, so his profile was only visible in silhouette. He lifted the cigarette to his mouth and its end glowed orange as he took a drag. I thought of his lips around the end of the cigarette, of the things his lips were capable of on my body, and shivered.

I turned on the faucet and his head turned. He turned away again and the cigarette glowed. I thought for a moment that he was going to stay out there, but a second later, the cigarette fell to the patio and he rose, pausing to crush it under his heel. My heart thundered as the sliding glass door hissed open, then closed behind him.

The silent darkness of the kitchen came alive with his presence. The air between us was electrified and goose bumps prickled my skin. The faint smell of cigarette smoke met my nose and reminded me of the taste of his kiss. My mouth watered and I licked my lips behind my glass.

Each muffled step he took echoed through my consciousness as he moved closer. He came around the island in the kitchen and there was nothing between us but empty space. We stared at each other in silence, in the darkness. I swallowed hard. Although I could barely see his face, the intensity of his presence was palpable. I shivered. It had been a solid week since we’d fucked, far too long since I’d felt his touch. Even though Darren had satisfied me several times over earlier that evening, I suddenly wanted Eric like never before.

We came together in a deep, ravenous kiss. As soon as I was in his arms, there was no question who was in control this time. He grasped my hair and leaned me against the counter, pressing his body—and rock hard cock—against me.

His tongue parted my lips and his hand parted my thighs. I barely suppressed a moan against his lips as he moved my panties aside and easily slipped two fingers into my pussy. The heel of his hand pressed against my clit and only his mouth over mine kept me from crying out.

All along, Eric had encouraged me to moan and scream and tell him how much I loved his touch, but that night, with Darren sleeping dangerously close by, we had to be silent, and it was sheer torture. As the delicious motions of his hand drove me mad, I struggled to stay quiet, struggled to remember why I needed to do so in the first place. Nothing existed but his hand on my pussy and the taste of his mouth against mine. I gripped his shoulder and the counter, trying to stay silent, trying to stay standing, as he worked his magic on my pussy.

He broke the kiss, leaving me to bite my tongue in a feeble effort to keep quiet. In my ear, he whispered, “I’m going to get even with you for the other night.”

I moaned softly.

Pressing his palm against my clit just a little harder, he brought me closer to the edge. His voice was barely audible over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. “Next time, you’re going to be the one who has to lie back and take whatever I dish out.” He crooked his fingers inside

me, stroking my G-spot.

I whimpered softly and he laughed.

“Not tonight though,” he growled. “Not when we have to stay quiet.” His tongue grazed the edge of my earlobe and his fingers moved more rapidly now, his palm circling my clit. I could barely breathe as he whispered, “You won’t be able to stay quiet when I get even with you.”

A shiver ran up my spine and he covered my mouth with his just in time to silence a helpless cry. My body shuddered against his and my knees went out from under me, but he held me upright, drawing my orgasm out until I saw white.

He broke the kiss just long enough to say, in a throaty whisper, “God I want to fuck you.” I couldn’t speak. I was still struggling to breathe and stay standing as he pulled a condom out of his jacket pocket and tore the package open with his teeth. His belt jingled softly, sending a jolt of panic through me, reminding me of our need to stay quiet.

Grabbing my hips, he turned me around and bent me over the counter. I chewed my lip as he pushed my thighs apart with his knee, and I barely kept myself from moaning as he slammed his cock all the way into my pussy. As soon as he was inside me, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet, not with the way his cock pounded my still-throbbing G-spot. I bit my tongue, trying to keep from crying out, but each deep, violent stroke he took drove me closer and closer, and I was losing control.

I let out a whimper and my body started to shake. A cry rose in my throat and was just about to escape when Eric clapped a hand over my mouth. His hand muffled the sound, but the delicious smell of my own pussy on his fingers drove me right over the edge. He kept his hand over my mouth, kept fucking me, kept riding me harder and faster as I came.

He exhaled sharply, the hiss of breath whispering across the side of my neck. His body tensed and he buried his face in my hair and barely muffled a deep groan.

He released my mouth and I let out a long, ragged breath. I wasn’t sure who trembled more as we stood in silence, trying to catch our breath, neither moving for a long moment.

Finally, he turned me around and gave me a long,

deep kiss. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” he whispered breathlessly.

“You, if you play your cards right.”

He laughed. “Your place. After work.” It wasn’t a question.

I smiled and kissed him. “You’d better get some sleep, then.”

His lips curved against mine into that devilish, spine-tingling grin. “Likewise.”

He kissed me one last time before we parted ways in the dark, silent apartment. I stripped out of my clothes and climbed back into bed with Darren. He stirred and draped his arm over me, kissing my shoulder gently before drifting back to sleep.

Twenty Nine

Is it five o’clock yet? I asked myself for the hundredth time. I looked at the clock on my computer.

Nine fifteen.

I groaned. This day was going to last forever. The days always dragged on in this place, but the anticipation of Eric’s “revenge” that night was going to drive me insane.

My cell phone beeped, startling me back into the present. I dug it out of my purse, flipped it open, and found a text from Eric.

I had to have two cigarettes after last night.

I couldn’t help but grin, knowing our encounter in the kitchen had driven him as crazy as it had driven me. I wrote back, You might want to bring a whole pack tonight.

Of smokes or condoms?

Whatever you need.

I’d better bring both then. Because you might have to have a smoke tonight.

I shivered. Most men just sounded cocky when they spoke like that. When it was Eric or Darren, their actions spoke much, much louder than their words.

We passed the morning flirting and bantering via text message. Then, he sent: Do you know why I had to have that second smoke last night?

Do tell.

My heart skipped when I read the response. Because every time I took a drag, I could smell you on my fingers, and it just made me hornier.

Goosebumps prickled my flesh at the memory of his hand over my mouth when he’d tried to keep me quiet, of the smell of my pussy on my fingers that drove me over the edge.

Before I could reply to his message, he sent another: Christ, just thinking about it is giving me a hard-on. I need you here now.

I bit my lip. With trembling hands, I wrote back: You’re not making this day go by any faster.

Must be torture at work. At least I’m home. Alone. So I can do something about it.

Teasing bastard. Save it for tonight; you’re going to need it.

Trust me, there will be plenty left for you. I’ll just last longer.

I barely kept myself from moaning. Fuck, why couldn’t it be five o’clock? Another message came through. Jesus, I wish you were here. My hand has nothing on your pussy.

I imagined him stroking his cock while he read my messages, and I couldn’t help licking my lips at the thought. I glanced at the clock. It was barely one o’clock. Four more hours to go before I got the hell out of there, and I was already turned on beyond rational thought.

I sent: I’m never going to make it through this day.

His response was a little slower than before, in spite of how short it was. Get over here now.

Would if I could.

He was silent for several minutes, and it didn’t take much of an imagination to figure out why. I tried to work, or at least pretend I was working, but all I could think of was Eric stroking his cock with the same hand that had driven us both insane with the smell of my pussy. While thinking about me. Thinking about what we’d done the night before and what we’d be doing in just a few hours.

I closed my eyes. Much more of this and I was going to have to relieve some tension myself.

My heart thundered when my phone beeped. I flipped it open. My mouth watered as I read, Your pussy makes me fucking crazy even when you’re not here.

Closing my eyes, I drew in a long breath through my nose. My body was on fire. I could barely hit the right keys as I wrote back, You don’t know what you’re doing to me right now.

A moment later, Good. I like it when you’re that turned on.

I don’t think I’m going to make it until tonight.

So don’t wait.

I can’t leave.

Take care of yourself there.

My jaw dropped and I reread his message several times. What?

Flick one off.

I suppressed an embarrassed laugh. At work? I could only imagine the gossip if the Millers ever caught wind of this conversation.

Why not? There will be plenty left for me when I lick you and fuck you tonight.

I shivered. He was killing me. I can’t do that at work.

Why not? I guarantee you aren’t the only one who’s ever done it in the restroom. A moment later, I dare you.

The old Marisa would have been appalled at the thought, but not anymore. All embarrassment aside, I wasn’t going to survive this day if I didn’t do something soon.

I looked at all of the work on my desk. At the clock that announced several agonizing hours left between now and when I could finally fuck Eric. At the phone containing Eric’s suggestion. His dare.

Hell, what did I have to lose? I was going to lose my sanity if I didn’t do something.

I stood and headed towards the restroom. All the while, the “what if’s” cascaded through my mind: What if I took a long time and someone noticed? What if someone heard me? What if someone was in one of the other stalls? What if? What if? What if?

What if I don’t do anything and spontaneously fucking combust at my desk?

The ladies’ room was mercifully empty, but I still took the farthest stall from the door. The restroom fixtures and fluorescent lighting didn’t make for much of an atmosphere, but by that point, I could have done it in a gas station bathroom.

Where I was ceased to matter at all as soon as my fingers were under my panties and on my clit. My mind was instantly back in the Knight brothers’ kitchen with Eric bending me over the counter. In Darren’s bed while he pounded me into oblivion. In my living room while Eric lost his mind watching me strip. Sucking Darren’s cock in the parking garage. In that secret fantasy of mine in which both brothers fucked me and—

I barely had enough sense to bite my lip and suppress a cry as my clit released lightning bolts through my entire body. I tried to breathe, tried not to scream, willed myself not to let the entire building know what I was doing.

When I came down, came back to reality, I was even hornier than before. Fuck. I gritted my teeth with frustration as I came out of the stall, washed my hands, checked my makeup to make sure I didn’t look like I’d just done what I just did. My knees were weak, my clit was pulsing, and damn it, I needed Eric more than ever.

Back at my desk, I had a text message waiting: Dirty girl, I’ll bet I know what you’re doing.

I smirked. You’re right, and now I’m even more turned on, you bastard.

A moment later, LOL Perfect. All the more fun for me tonight.

Thirty

I took a quick shower as soon as I got home, but I didn’t bother putting on more than a bath towel. I tried to keep myself busy while I waited: Checking for the hundredth time that there were condoms on top of the nightstand. Making coffee. Putting a couple more condoms on the nightstand just in case we needed them.

By the time Eric arrived, I was shaking with anticipation.

As soon as the door was open, I was in his arms, his lips devouring mine as we stumbled into the apartment together. He kicked the door shut and pulled the bath towel away, growling softly as his hands found my naked flesh. Desperate to feel him, I tugged at his shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it aside. I couldn’t get him naked and inside me fast enough.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hips, spun me around, and pushed me up against the door, pinning my wrists beside my head. I tried to kiss him again, but he stayed just out of my reach. He pressed his cock against my hip and laughed at the moan that escaped my lips.

“I told you I was going to get you back for those nights you teased me.” A sly grin curled his lips and turned my knees to water.

“And just what do you have in mind?” I asked, wetting my lips.

He bent as if to kiss me, but stopped. I could almost taste the smoky flavor of his mouth, but a tantalizing sliver of space remained between his lips and mine. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” His warm breath whispered across my lower lip, and I suppressed a whimper. I wanted him so bad it hurt.

I tried to free my wrists, but he tightened his grasp. There wasn’t much point in struggling; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but he was stronger than me. He’d willingly given in when I’d pinned him; I didn’t have a choice.

He leaned forward and kissed my neck, his unshaven jaw brushing against my collarbone. I watched his shoulders and biceps, mesmerized by the subtle movements of the muscles beneath his tattooed skin. I desperately wanted to run my tongue over the edges of his tattoos, to feel his muscles ripping beneath my hands. But I couldn’t.

I didn’t even bother suppressing the whimper this time. He laughed against my neck, the sound simultaneously arousing and frustrating me.

He lifted his head and looked at me. “You’re going to play by my rules tonight.”

I swallowed. “And what would those rules be?”

He grinned. “You’re not going to touch me.”

Meeting his grin, I raised an eyebrow. “That the best you can do?”

“I’m not done yet.” His eyes narrowed and his grin widened. “You also aren’t going to come until I say you can.”

“You’re going to keep me from coming?” I laughed.

He nodded. “Not one single orgasm tonight without my permission.” He kissed me then, pressing his hard cock against my hips.

Releasing my wrists, he led me into the bedroom. “Lie down on the bed.”

I did as he said, but he didn’t join me. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and watched me silently for a moment, then said, “Touch your pussy.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I gave him a defiant smirk. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to touch anything.”

“You just can’t touch me until I say so,” he said. “And you can’t come until I say so.”

The embarrassment and insecurities from a lifetime ago came flooding back, but I swallowed them as I did what Eric ordered. As soon as my fingers were on my clit, I realized just how cruel his second rule really was. I had been turned on all day long. The orgasm I gave myself at work had done nothing to take the edge off, and in fact left me even more sensitive than before.

I whimpered softly.

“That’s perfect.” He never took his eyes off of my hand as he unbuckled his belt. Any embarrassment or insecurity disintegrated with the lusty grin on his face. “Is that what you were doing at work today?”

I nodded.

“Dirty girl,” he said. “Pity I couldn’t be there to take care of it for you.”

“My boss would have loved that.”

He shrugged. “I could have taken care of her too.”

“Filthy man.”

“Guilty.”

I chewed my lip and watched as he stepped out of his jeans and boxers. The sight of his cock made my mouth water; I’d wanted it all fucking day. In my mouth, in my hands, in my pussy—fuck, I wanted his cock. I licked my lips and circled my clit faster with my fingers as he closed his hand around his cock and stroked it slowly.

I searched his body language and his expression for a sign that he wasn’t really as in control as he wanted me to believe, that he was just a heartbeat away from giving in to what we both really wanted, but nothing betrayed his cool composure.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he growled.

“Fuck yes,” I whispered. There weren’t enough words in the English language to tell him how badly I wanted him then, to tell him how much I ached for him with each slow stroke he took on his own erection. My fingers moved faster on my clit and my breath caught.

“Don’t forget the rule,” he said, his tone more teasing than scolding.

“Fucking tease,” I said through clenched teeth. I closed my eyes, trying to regain some control, which was never going to happen as long as I kept watching him touch himself.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

I chewed my lip. “If I do, I’m going to come just from

watching you.”

He laughed. “You’ll just have to control—” He paused. “Control yourself, won’t you?” There it was. The catch in his voice.

I opened my eyes and met his. His lips parted slightly and his hand slowed just a little.

“I want to watch you come,” he said through his teeth.

“Like this?”

He nodded. “Just like that.”

Those old insecurities threatened to resurface, but I ignored them, focusing instead on watching Eric’s face as I worked my clit faster. His eyes alternated watching my face and my hand, and his tongue ran across his lips.

My orgasm caught me by surprise, a deep tremor suddenly wracking my entire body as a helpless cry escaped my lips. My back arched and my vision went white. The incredible sensations crescendoed, peaked, started to taper.

The warmth of Eric’s mouth on my pussy sent me right back into the stratosphere with a gasp of pleasure and shock. I clawed the bed sheets, my back arching again, but Eric held my hips in place as his tongue drew slow, gentle circles around—but not touching—my pulsing clit.

The room spun around me as I tried to breathe, but my lungs refused to cooperate as Eric drew my orgasm out.

Finally I pushed his head away, my lips managing to form a desperate plea for him to stop. He did, lifting his head and kissing my thigh. My entire body shook uncontrollably even as my climax faded.

“I don’t recall saying you could have two orgasms,” he said. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed. He pushed himself up and came towards me. His kiss was an intoxicating mix of my pussy and the vague hint of smoke, and I wrapped my arms around him, desperate to taste him.

He pushed my arms aside and pinned them beside me, just as he’d pinned me against the door. “Someone’s forgetting the rules.”

I moaned, writhing beneath him. He brought my hands together and held both of my wrists in one hand.

“You have to play by the rules,” he said, his free hand drifting down to my pussy. “Or I’ll keep teasing you all fucking night.”

“You’re cruel,” I whimpered.

“And you love it,” he said, kissing my neck as his fingers slipped into my pussy.

“I want you to fuck me,” I pleaded.

“But you love being teased,” he growled, kissing just beneath my jaw. “Just like I loved every fucking second of it.” His fingers moved against my G-spot. “You had me so turned on those nights. God, I just wanted to throw you down and rail you.”

I moaned again. Then I gasped as his fingers crossed inside me, making them feel thicker and giving him a little extra leverage against my G-spot. “Holy…fuck…”

“You like that?”

I whimpered and nodded, trying to breathe as the room spun around me.

“God, you’re hot when you’re this horny,” he growled. He kissed my neck, moving his fingers faster in my pussy. I released a soft moan, and he whispered, “No orgasms until I say so.” But in spite of his warning, he rubbed my G-spot even more.

I bit my lip and moaned, this time with frustration.

“Not until I say so,” he said, raising his head and looking at me. Against my will, my pussy tightened around his fingers. He exhaled sharply. “Not yet, baby, not yet.”

“You aren’t giving me—” I took in a gasp of breath. “A hell of a lot of choice.”

He laughed. “So you’re saying,” his lips brushed my jaw as he spoke. “That if I give you the word, you’ll come?”

I nodded, pushing my hips against his hand, fighting the orgasm that was a heartbeat away from overcoming me.

“You’re that close?” he whispered. I whimpered again. He kissed my neck, then my mouth. Against my lips, he said, “Then come.” And in that instant, I came, my body shaking and writhing against his as he kissed my mouth and fingered my G-spot.

When I finally came down from that orgasm, he again put both hands around my wrists and pinned me. He moved his hips so that his cock pressed against my thigh. “Hmm, should I keep teasing you, or fuck you like I know you want to be fucked?”

“Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured and pushed his cock against me again. “Teasing you is so much fun.”

“Please…”

He nibbled my neck. “If I wanted to fuck you, I’d have to get up, get a condom…” He shook his head and gave a melodramatic sigh. “But if I just stay here, I can keep touching you…” Resting his weight on one arm, he cupped my breast with his free hand. “And tasting you…” He kissed me, a long, deep kiss, pausing just long enough to whisper, “Decisions, decisions,” before kissing me again.

In a brief moment of clarity, I remembered the condoms I’d carefully left out, and reached for the nightstand. My fingertip brushed the corner of one of the foil packets, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.

Eric broke the kiss and raised himself up a little. “Just what are you—”

I took advantage of the narrow distance between us and shifted sideways, gaining just enough ground to grab one of the condoms. “There,” I said, holding it between my fingers and smirking at Eric. “Now you don’t have to stop to get one.”

He laughed and closed his hand around both mine and the condom, pinning my arm beside me. “Bending the rules again, are we?” He kissed my neck.

“You didn’t say anything about touching condoms.”

“Touché.” He kissed my mouth as he freed the foil packet from my fingertips. “I suppose I could be persuaded to fuck you,” he whispered, his lips barely leaving mine. After another long, drawn out kiss, he rose and tore the condom packet open. “Get on your knees.”

I gave him a playful glare. “And what if I don’t want to?”

He laughed as he rolled the condom on. “If you want me to fuck you, and I know you do, you’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” I did as he ordered. His hands closed around my hips and I had just enough time to take a breath before he slammed his cock into my pussy. Digging his fingers in, he pounded me like never before.

“Is that what you wanted?” He sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth.

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whimper. Each violent stroke knocked the breath right out of me.

“You’ve been waiting all day for this, haven’t you?”

“Oh my God, yes,” I moaned. I think I’d been waiting my whole life to be fucked like that. My voice sounded like someone else’s as I cried out for more, begged him to fuck me harder, pleaded for more, more, more. And as I came, he gripped my hips tighter and fucked me harder, faster.

He groaned, then roared, “Jesus Christ…oh fuck, yes…” I squeezed him with my pussy, then released, then did it again as tight as I could, and his cries caught in his throat. His rhythm faltered, but still he rode me hard, fast, driving himself deep inside me as I tightened and released, tightened and released, until finally he pulled me against him, holding my hips as he came with a throaty, primal roar.

We collapsed together onto my bed and I rested my head on his chest.

“Was I allowed to come that time?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and laughed. “Well, I didn’t say you could,” he said. “But I’ll forgive you.”

“For both of them?”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

Thirty One

After we came down from our powerful orgasms, Eric needed a cigarette. I threw on my bathrobe and he pulled on his jeans, but didn’t bother with a shirt.

I eyed him as we headed out to the balcony. “It’s a bit cold to go topless tonight, don’t you think?”

He smirked. “Are you suggesting you want me to cover up?”

“Not in the least,” I said. “I could look at you like that all night. But I wouldn’t want you freezing to death.”

He chuckled and put his hands on my hips as I opened the sliding glass door. His lips brushed my ear as he said, “If I get cold, I’ll just let you warm me back up.”

I couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped right then. My entire body was still tingling from every last orgasm he’d given me—no, every orgasm he’d let me have—that night, and I had no doubt he wasn’t finished yet.

He didn’t flinch at all as we stepped out into the chilly night air. He leaned against the railing and fished his cigarettes out of his back pocket, either not noticing or not caring about the cold wind against his bare skin.

The thin sheen of sweat on his chest and shoulders caught the silvery light from the streetlights below, casting sharp shadows beneath the contours of his muscles. Cold or not, he could stand out here half-naked whenever he wanted.

Holding the cigarette loosely between his lips, he pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” I said, smirking

as I folded my arms across my chest and pretended I wasn’t freezing.

He grinned. “Babe, you’ll kill me long before they do.”

I laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

His eyebrows jumped slightly and he exhaled around the cigarette. “Yes, it definitely is.” He held the lighter up and cupped his hands around it as he lit the cigarette. As he held the cigarette between his lips and started to take a drag, a heavy shadow formed below his cheekbone. It reminded me of the way a man’s cheeks hollowed when a kiss deepened, that moment when his jaw dropped just slightly and his tongue moved into his lover’s mouth.

I shivered.

Looking at me, he let a thin stream of smoke escape his lips. “Cold?”

“No,” I said. Not anymore, anyway.

He lifted the cigarette to his lips again, closing his eyes as he took a drag. The tip glowed orange for a split second, then went dark, but he was still inhaling, drawing a long, slow breath. Then I realized he was inhaling through his nose, that his lips had loosened around the cigarette.

After a moment, he lowered the cigarette and opened his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed, only a tiny wisp of smoke escaping his lips.

I cocked my head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. “Not a damned thing.” He moved his cigarette to his other hand. Then, with the hand that had held the smoke a second before, he touched my face, running his fingers gently across my lips. His touch sent a shiver through me and I took a sharp breath, instantly catching the tangy-sweet smell of my own pussy on his fingers. I exhaled against his fingertips.

Grinning, he snuffed out his barely-smoked cigarette. His hand went from my face to my neck and his other went to my waist. He leaned in as if to kiss me, but stopped just short of my mouth and went to my neck instead. My knees turned to water and I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. His sweat-dampened skin was cool to the touch, but at the same time, the heat of his body radiated into my hands. I traced my fingers over the slick edges of his tattoos as the tip of his tongue flicked across the skin just beneath my ear.

“Jesus, you taste incredible,” he said, his voice thrumming against my neck. “Your pussy, your kiss, your skin, fuck, I could taste you all Goddamned night.”

I moaned, and was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to taste him. Pulling him towards me, I leaned forward and kissed the side of his neck. He exhaled sharply into my hair, and his spine straightened as I traced my tongue just beneath his jaw. A shiver ran through him as I drew his earlobe between my lips and gently pressed my teeth into it.

“Fuck, woman,” he said, the words barely audible as they slipped between his lips like a breath of smoke. He gripped my hips and let his head fall back as I kissed his neck, then his shoulder. His skin was deliciously salty and simultaneously hot and cool against my tongue. I ran my tongue along the edge of a tattoo, following the curving design to the end of his collarbone, where it came to a point. His breath caught as I kissed the hollow of his throat.

I was about to start up his neck, but he grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head back, and kissed me. He half-moaned, half-growled into my mouth as he leaned me against the balcony, his fingers kneading my scalp and his other hand gripping my hip as if he was afraid I was going to try to get away. With the way he was kissing me just then, the way he devoured my mouth like he usually did my pussy, he had nothing to worry about: I wasn’t going anywhere.

He tightened his grasp on my hair and pulled back gently to break the kiss, his mouth following mine as if he couldn’t make himself let me go just yet. When he finally did, he was breathless.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” he said, wrapping his other arm around my waist. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

So much for being in control tonight, Eric, I thought, grinning. “I think I do, actually.” I slid a hand between us and squeezed his cock through his jeans. Fucking hell, he was already hard again. My mouth watered.

He gasped and closed his eyes. His fingers tugged at my hair a little, and I realized he’d shivered, clenching his fist in my hair. With his other hand, he grabbed my wrist and pulled it away, pinning my arm against the railing and pressing his hips against mine so that I couldn’t sneak my other hand in. “You know, the rules are still in effect tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t you want me to touch you, Eric?” I narrowed my eyes and gave him a playful glare as I pushed my hips towards him. “I thought you liked it when I touched you.”

He closed his eyes and groaned softly. “I do. I fucking do.” When he opened his eyes, he spoke through clenched teeth. “But I’m not done teasing you tonight.”

“I thought I’d served my penance for teasing you,” I said with a smirk.

He shook his head. “Oh no, not even close.” He gently pulled my head back and kissed my neck. “I intend to have you begging all fucking night.”

I tried not to shiver, and it wasn’t from the cold. “You’ll only be torturing yourself.”

He nipped the side of my neck gently. “I can handle it.”

“So you say.” I moved my hips from side to side against his cock, grinning with satisfaction as his hand tightened in my hair. He kept it there to control me, but all it did was betray his every response to the things I did to him. I laughed. “Actions speak louder than words, Eric.”

He raised his head. With his lips nearly touching mine, he said, “And a woman in the throes of an orgasm screams louder than anything on the fucking planet.” He inhaled my startled breath as he kissed me again.

The hand that wasn’t in my hair moved between us and I stiffened as I realized he was untying my bathrobe.

I broke the kiss, pulling back as much as his hand would let me. “Out here?”

With a soft sniff of laughter, he said, “Why not?”

“It’s freezing cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“The neighbors…”

“If they haven’t heard you yet, they’re not going to hear you now.”

I gasped at the chill air that sneaked in between us as my bathrobe fell open. He pressed his body against mine,

but the cold still prickled my bare skin.

“I’m making the rules tonight,” he said. “I decide what you can touch.” His hand slid into my robe and paused on my hip bone. “I decide when you come.” His hand moved farther, gently parting my thighs. “And I decide when and where I get to have you.”

My gasp seemed to echo in the silent street below as Eric’s fingers—surprisingly cool, but not unpleasantly so—circled my clit. I struggled to breathe, struggled to stay standing, but somehow managed to whisper, “The condoms are all in the house.”

He kissed my neck as his fingers slipped inside me. “We won’t be needing those out here.”

I wanted to ask why, but all rational thought disappeared as the heel of his hand cupped my clit. His fingers may as well have been made for my pussy. They were just the perfect length to effortlessly reach my G-spot and still have more than enough room to bend and beckon.

“It’s my turn to drive you crazy,” he growled. “Earlier this evening, that was only the beginning.” His fingers crooked inside me. He released a ragged breath, echoing what I would have done had I been able to breathe at all. “I’ve never been with a woman that makes me lose control the way you do,” he said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a purr. “I was thinking about you at work the other night,” he paused, swallowing hard. “And my hands shook so bad I damn near dropped a bottle.” His fingers crossed inside me again. “My hands are always steady, rock fucking steady, except when I’m thinking of your sweet, tight pussy.”

I moaned and held onto his shoulders. Had it not been for the railing and Eric’s body pressed against me, I’d have collapsed into a whimpering pool of lust.

He wasn’t done. “And the sounds you make,” he said. “Good God, those sounds made me fucking crazy when you were in the next room, but when you’re right there with me, and I can hear you scream, when I can feel you scream…” He shivered and I swore he let out a soft moan.

My pussy quivered around his fingers. I gasped as the first ripples of a climax ran up my spine.

“Not yet,” he said. “You’re not going to come yet.” But

he rubbed my clit a little harder, stroked my G-spot faster. “Don’t you dare come yet.”

I dug my fingers into his shoulders. “I can’t stop.”

“You can,” he said. “And you will. Because those are the rules tonight.” But his fingers didn’t let up.

My knees turned to water. I trembled from head to toe. “Can’t…”

He laughed, his breath tickling the side of my face. “Not yet, baby,” he said. “Because I’m not done yet. When I’m ready, and not a moment sooner, I’m going to put you over the edge.” He kissed my jaw, my neck. “Do you know what I love most about your orgasms, Marisa?”

I gritted my teeth, struggling to focus on what he was saying, holding myself back from coming. “Tell me,” was all I could manage.

He kissed my jaw again, then the corner of my mouth. “I love it when you moan,” he said, our lips almost touching. “When you scream, that sound you make like you can just…barely…breathe.” His fingers tightened in my hair and I moaned. He flicked his tongue against the corner of my lip. “But nothing in the world,” he was growling now, that deep, throaty growl that he always did when he was losing control. “Nothing in the world is hotter than when your pussy tightens around me and you try to speak, when you’re almost choking on your own voice.” He paused, taking an unsteady breath as his hand quickened against my pussy. “But you manage to get it out, and you say my fucking name.”

I whimpered again, clawing at his shoulders and trying to hold back the orgasm that he was simultaneously drawing out of me and forbidding. “Eric…” I whispered.

He exhaled. “Say it again.”

I tried. My tongue wouldn’t cooperate. My throat constricted as my pussy tightened around his hand. I was, as he’d predicted, choking on my own voice. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of anything but the intensifying electric pulses coming from my clit.

“You want to come, don’t you?” he breathed. “You’re right on the fucking edge, Jesus, you’re right there, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered, that single word tangling in my

mouth like some sort of foreign tongue twister.

“My God, your pussy gets so…fucking…tight when you’re this turned on.” His voice was taut, as if he was holding back himself. “Jesus, Marisa…”

And I couldn’t stop it. My knees buckled and my world exploded in a flash of white light. I shuddered against him, digging my nails into his skin as wave upon wave of intensity crashed through me. Somewhere in the delirium, I felt his name roll off my tongue in a desperate plea for…what? More? Stop? Don’t stop? I didn’t know, didn’t care, and he didn’t stop, not until I seized his wrist. He was stronger than me, but he couldn’t have moved his hand then if he tried, not with the grip I had on his wrist.

Taking in a gulp of cool air, I closed my eyes as one final shudder rippled through me.

“I didn’t say you could come yet,” he whispered.

“Actions speak louder than words,” I said, my voice slurred. “Your hand said I could.”

He laughed and kissed me. He started to withdraw his hand, but I yelped and held his wrist in place. His eyebrows lifted. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t move.”

“I’m just—”

“No. Don’t move.”

He blinked. “Are you—“

“Just,” I swallowed. “Just give me a second. It’s too intense.”

His lips parted in surprise, maybe puzzlement, then he grinned. “I’ll keep my fingers in your pussy as long as you want, baby.”

“Something tells me you want to put something else in my pussy.”

He swallowed hard. Busted. He didn’t even try to keep the tough, controlled façade going anymore. “There’s nothing I want more right now, believe me.”

It was my turn to be in control, was it? I gave him a challenging look. “Nothing more you want right now than what, Eric?”

He kissed me and slowly withdrew his fingers from my pussy, laughing softly as my body tensed. “You know exactly what I want, and you want it too.” He kissed me again, sliding his tongue into my mouth in the same instant that his fingers slid free of my pussy.

When he broke the kiss, he had that grin again, that smirk that said he wanted to continue with this banter, this verbal one-upmanship as we playfully fought for dominance, but before he could speak, I said, “Eric…”

He blinked, possibly as startled as I was by the growl in my voice. He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head slightly.

Now that I had his undivided attention, I wetted my lips. “Fuck me.”

His lips parted again, but he didn’t make any attempt at a smartass retort. He reached for the sliding glass door and we both hurried inside. As soon as he shut the door, he stopped me and kissed me, pushing my bathrobe over my shoulders.

“Condoms,” I said, edging towards the bedroom.

“Got it covered.” He nudged me towards the couch a few feet away. He lowered me onto the couch and laid over me, his jeans brushing against my bare skin. He kissed my neck and whispered, “Back left pocket.”

I put my hands around his waist and reached into his pocket as he’d suggested. He grinned as my fingers found the foil package. As I brought my hands and the condom back around, he raised himself up and fumbled with his jeans.

“You never run out of energy, do you?” I said.

“Not when there’s a pussy like yours waiting for me.” He reached for the condom, but I kept it away from him. He gave me a puzzled look.

“Allow me.” I ripped the packet with my teeth, tossed the empty wrapper aside, and reached between us. I stroked his cock a few times, watching his face as I did.

“Fucking tease,” he breathed.

“You love it.”

“I do.” He swallowed hard. “Baby, put it on, I have got to fuck you now.” The plea in his voice made my mouth water. I loved it when he was like that.

He kissed me as I rolled the condom on. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and I thought he was shaking.

As soon as the condom was on, he grabbed my wrists

and pinned me down on the couch, thrusting into me with a throaty groan. Each stroke seemed to take his breath away just as it took mine away. I moved my hips with him, pulling him deeper.

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet, oh my God,” he said, his voice edging towards a whimper. I tightened my pussy around him. Released. Tightened again. He closed his eyes and threw his head back. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

Then he slowed down, stopped completely, paused to take a breath. “I want you on top.” He swallowed hard. “I want you to do what you did the other night.” The desperation in his voice sent a tingle up my spine.

We quickly changed positions. As I lowered myself on top of him, I held his wrists against the couch just as he had done. I took just the head of his cock into my pussy, biting my lip and forcing back the barely-controlled urge to ride him hard and fast.

I took a deep breath and whispered, “Tell me how you want it.”

“Slow,” he said, almost groaning. “Just like the other— fuck, yes, just like that.”

I took him inside me as slowly as I possibly could, which wasn’t an easy task with as bad as I was still trembling after the orgasms he’d given me already.

He closed his eyes and wetted his lips as our bodies came together, his cock buried all the way inside me. I suppressed a moan, trying to stay in control. Fuck, he felt incredible inside me. His body tensed as I rose off of him, and his hips followed, as if trying to keep himself inside me just a little bit longer, but I stayed out of his reach. When only the head of his cock was inside me, I made circles with my hips, then let him a little farther into my pussy, then backed off again. He tried to thrust upward, but I always stayed just beyond his reach, refusing to relinquish this sweet control over how much of my pussy he could fuck.

His lips parted with a sharp breath. Frustration? Arousal? I couldn’t tell. His wrists twitched in my hands and I watched with satisfaction as his fists clenched. He groaned softly. Eric was amazing when he was in control, but he was beyond words when he was under my control.

All at once, I took his entire cock inside me in one

swift stroke. His eyes flew open and he gasped, his back arching. “Holy…fuck…”

I rose slowly again. I took several more long, slow strokes, then a fast one. Three or four slow, one fast.

“Oh my God, that’s…” He arched his back again as I took another rapid stroke. “Oh fuck…” His muscles rippled. His head fell to one side as his eyes scrunched closed and his lips pulled back in a grimace that could almost be mistaken for one of pain. “Oh God, oh my God, Marisa, you’re…” He gasped. “You’re going to make me…” He thrust upward. I didn’t avoid him this time. No, this time, I gave him everything I had, fucking him as hard and fast as I could, rocking my hips back and forth with each stroke.

“Fucking…holy…fuck!” His hips launched off of the couch so hard that he almost knocked me off balance, but I recovered and kept riding him as he roared and shook and groaned and trembled beneath me.

After a moment, he pleaded, “Stop, stop, stop…”

I did, finally letting him breathe. He closed his eyes and was still and silent for a moment, taking long, deep breaths, the occasional aftershock making him shudder beneath me.

I leaned forward and kissed him. “I thought you were going to be in control tonight.”

“Fuck me like that,” he slurred. “And I’ll be your Goddamned slave.”

“I might hold you to that.”

He closed his eyes again. “I think…” He paused.

I kissed him again. “You think what?”

He licked his lips. “I think I need another cigarette.”

Thirty Two

I squirmed in my seat at the restaurant the next night. My pussy still ached from everything Eric had done to me, but tonight it was nerves, not horniness, that unsettled me.

My fingers played with the rim of my water glass and I tapped my foot against the table leg while I watched the door. Come on, let’s just do this and be done with it.

Over and over, I silently begged him to show up, to just get here and get this over with, until the moment he appeared in the doorway. Then my chest seized and my blood turned to ice. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. Fuck.

“Marisa,” John said, beaming as he approached the table.

My heart in my throat, I forced a smile and stood, pleading with my legs to stay beneath me. “John.” His name was sour on my tongue and I barely kept myself from grimacing as he hugged me gently.

We sat across from each other, the table not providing nearly enough space between us. For a while, we were silent, just looking at each other. Perhaps he was searching me for signs, emotions, something.

It had been six months since we’d breathed the same air, and he was suddenly a stranger to me. Everything about him was both familiar and foreign; the way his smile rose slightly higher on the left than the right. Those dark, unreadable eyes. The bold way he set his shoulders back. As much as I loved a man with strong, powerful shoulders, the way he set his was almost arrogant, and it irritated rather than aroused me.

He shifted in his chair, leaning forward slightly, and I barely resisted the urge to lean back. The way he squared his shoulders and folded his hands on the table in front of him made me think of a brooding, menacing tycoon getting ready to take on a competitor in a boardroom.

I swallowed hard. “So,” I said. “Here we are.”

He nodded. “So we are.” He avoided my eyes for a second, then looked at me. “I’ve missed you, Marisa.”

My heart pounded. “I’ve missed you.” As soon as the words were out, I wondered if he believed them any more than I did. It felt like little more than an automatic response, the next line in the same script we read through every time we came back together after another “trial separation”.

He smiled, though, and reached across the table, putting his hand over mine. “I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

“So it does.” I resisted the urge to pull my hand away. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, a gesture I once found comforting. Now it just made my skin crawl.

We were silent for a long, uncomfortable moment before he cleared his throat. “So, where do we go from here?”

I looked into my water glass, chewing the inside of my cheek. I didn’t have an answer for him. Six months ago, I hadn’t wanted this at all. I wanted him to call and tell me that the separation was over, that he wanted me to come home. But the call never came, and the six months went by, and now there we were, just like we’d agreed, ready to decide if we were going to stay married or go our separate ways.

And all I wanted was to be anywhere but there.

Guilt tightened my throat. This was the man I married. For all the things we’d both done wrong, he must have wanted to give things another try if he was willing to get together and sort this out. We’d been apart for a long time, and things had been rough between us for much longer before that, but maybe time had tempered some of the conflict that had driven us apart. We’d barely been in the same room for ten minutes. He deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“Marisa?”

I looked at him. “I, I don’t know.”

He pursed his lips. “Look, I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last few months.”

“And?”

He took a breath and thumbed the edge of the tablecloth. “I guess I needed a lot of time to figure everything out. Maybe the short separations we’ve done before weren’t enough.” He looked at me, but I said nothing, so he continued. “You were right about everything. I ignored you. I took you for granted.” He paused, swallowing hard before looking me in the eye. “I’m sorry, Marisa. I’m sorry for everything. And,” He took a breath. “I want to make this work.”

Blood pounded in my ears. Six months ago, those were the words I longed to hear, but now I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t count the number of times he’d “figured everything out” and “wanted to make this work”, but we’d never been apart this long. Maybe he was sincere. Maybe he wasn’t. We’d had a good thing a long time ago, and part of me ached to have that back. I didn’t know which prospect would result in more heartache: Letting go of any hope of having that happiness back, or giving him another chance and winding up in this position again.

On one hand, I had no reason to believe he’d changed, since he’d sure as hell never changed before. On the other, we had taken vows, and he did seem as sincere now as he did on our wedding day.

Then there was that nagging thought: Changed or not, did I even want to be with him anymore? Whether he’d changed or not, the fact remained that I had.

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “John, I just don’t know what to do at this point.”

“We can try.” There was a hint of a plea in his voice. “Counseling, whatever it takes. I mean, even if it doesn’t work out this time, at least we can say we gave it a shot.”

“Again?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked hurt. I sighed. “John, how many times are we going to do this before we either get it right or just go our separate ways?”

“As many times as it takes to get it right,” he said. I swore he had tears in his eyes, and I looked away before I choked up myself. His hand squeezed mine and I barely kept myself from jumping, having forgotten that his hand was on mine in the first place.

I met his eyes again. I was right, he did have tears in his eyes. Everything about him seemed sincere, heartfelt. He really wanted to make this work. The John sitting across from me wasn’t the John that had coldly told me we needed to “take some time apart” half a year ago. Back then, he’d kept a stiff upper lip and seemed almost flippant about taking a step towards ending our marriage.

I dropped my gaze and watched my fingers toy with the edge of my menu. I loved him. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t. But I needed a sign that he was sincere. I needed to know if the John sitting across from me was a changed man, or if going back to him was setting myself up for more heartache. And I needed to know that I hadn’t changed so much that we were no longer compatible at all.

“Marisa?”

I put my hands in my lap so he couldn’t see how badly they were shaking, and I looked him in the eye again. “I’m not sure about anything yet,” I said, barely managing a whisper. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to hold his gaze. “But maybe we’d stand a better chance of reconnecting if we went someplace else.”

Thirty Three

We tumbled through the front door in a tangle of arms, legs, and disheveled clothing. Somehow we made it across the condo to the bedroom, where we struggled out of our last remaining clothes before falling into bed together.

John’s kiss was more passionate than it had been in a long time, his tongue probing my mouth as if he hadn’t tasted my kiss in years. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted me like this.

This is the moment of truth, I told myself.

I gently took his hand and guided it to my pussy. He watched our hands, then glanced at me. With a little more guidance, I brought his fingertips to my clit and circled them slowly. He took my cue and continued the motion on his own.

“Mmm, just like that,” I said, exhaling heavily. After a moment, I let go of his hand. “Yes, just like that.”

And just seconds later, he moved his hand, bringing it back up to cup my breast as he kissed me again. His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see me roll mine with frustration. Once again, I guided his hand to my clit, and once again, he moved it away as soon as I released his hand.

Maybe I needed to try a different approach.

I broke the kiss. “You know what I would really, really love right now?”

Grinning, he pressed his erection against me. “I think I know exactly what you want.”

I smiled through the frustration. “I mean before that.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I want you to…” The insecurities came crashing back as he eyed me. I swallowed. “I want you to go down on me. Until I come.”

Cocking his head, he said, “But you never come that way.”

No shit. Because you don’t spend enough time down there to make me come. I tried not to grit my teeth. “Try me.”

He considered it for a second, then shrugged. For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore my request, but he kissed my neck, then my breasts, and as he kissed his way down my belly, I realized he was actually going to do it. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone down on me.

His lips touched my hipbone and continued towards my pussy. Oh my God, he’s going to do it. He’s actually going to do it.

What I didn’t count on was how sensitive my clit was after my night with Eric. Nor did I expect John to attack it with such fervor.

Yelping in pain, I nearly came up off the bed as soon as his tongue hit my clit.

He looked up, his eyes wide. “I thought you wanted—”

I exhaled, forcing myself to relax. “Just not—just, be gentle.”

Furrowing his brow, he dipped his head again and ran his tongue across my clit. I tried not to flinch, but after he lapped at it a couple of times, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Easy,” I said. “Just go slow, gentle.”

He eased up on the pressure, but not by much. I gritted my teeth.

“Easy…”

He shook his head as he came back up to kiss my mouth. “See, you’re way too sensitive down there for that.”

“I just have to get used to what you’re doing, that’s all.”

“I have a better idea,” he said, reaching towards the nightstand. He paused and glanced at me. “You don’t mind using condoms, do you? I mean, since we’ve been separated…” He lifted an eyebrow, eyeing me like he was expecting me to get angry.

“Go ahead,” I said with a nod.

He put the condom on and positioned himself over me. “God, I’ve missed you.” His voice was a low growl, but it wasn’t that arousing, primal growl that Eric or Darren had. If anything, it just made John sound like an ass. That thought amused me, but I refused to let him see it.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said, not even caring if I sounded as flippant as I felt.

He fucked me hard and fast like he always did, but just like always, I didn’t feel much. He somehow managed to fuck me without putting a single ounce of pressure on my clit –though, that night, that was probably not a bad thing–and missing my G-spot entirely. I didn’t bother giving him any suggestions.

Every woman for herself, I thought bitterly. I gripped his shoulders and rolled my hips back slightly, repositioning myself so that he hit my G-spot in spite of his apparent best efforts not to.

Then I started to feel something. My orgasm built quickly, perhaps not to the intensity to which I’d grown accustomed in recent months, but it was more intense than I’d ever thought possible with John. I closed my eyes and moaned softly, digging my fingers into his shoulders as he pushed me towards the edge.

Just before I came, he adjusted his own position, lowering himself to his elbows instead of holding himself up with his hands. And once again, he bypassed my G-spot completely.

“The way you were,” I whispered breathlessly. “Just a little bit more…”

“I like it this way,” he murmured. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His voice was strained, tense, the way it always was right before he came.

“You were about to make me come,” I said.

“Oh fuck yes,” he growled. “Come, baby, come on...”

“Do it…the way you were before.”

But a second later, he came.

~ * ~

John’s arm was draped over my waist and his body pressed against mine as he drifted off to sleep. I lay in the darkness, looking at the familiar shapes illuminated by the streetlights outside. His massive bureau. The wardrobe that served as an entertainment center. The closed doors to our cavernous walk-in closets. The familiar silhouettes of the full-length mirror, the framed photos on the wall, and the vase my mother had given us for our wedding.

Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as I’d left it six months ago.

John stirred slightly, then rolled over in his sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my frustration on my side of the bed.

Indeed, nothing had changed.

The next morning, we shared breakfast and conversation before saying our goodbyes.

“It was so good to see you, Marisa,” he said, kissing me gently at the door.

“It was,” I said with a smile. It wasn’t a lie.

“I’d like to get together again,” he said. “Talk things over a bit more.”

“We will.” Again, not a lie.

He smiled, kissed me again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And even that wasn’t a lie. I did love him. I always would.

But as I pulled out of the parking lot, I flipped open my cell phone and called my boss.

“Hey, Ali,” I said. “I need to call out today. I’ve got some things I need to take care of.”

“Everything okay?”

I smiled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“All right, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

I stuffed my phone back in my purse, drove downtown, and filed for divorce.

Thirty Four

“So it’s really over?” Darren lifted his eyebrows and sipped his drink, watching me in the dim light of the lounge at Ambrose’s.

I nodded. “I filed this morning.”

He regarded me quietly for a moment. “So I assume you’re okay with it?”

“Better than I thought I’d be,” I said. “I mean, it hurts. We were together a long time, and it’s hard to let that go, but I think it’s better this way.” I exhaled, my shoulders loosening as if those words had been bunching up my muscles all day long, demanding to be spoken. “Yeah, I do think it’ll be better this way.”

Darren nodded. “Good, I’m glad you’re happy. If you weren’t happy with him, then you deserve better.”

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Eric appeared and dropped into the third chair at the table.

“You’re always late, jackass,” Darren said.

Eric scratched the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, almost causing me to choke on my drink.

“He’s right, Eric, you’re always late,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault my replacement didn’t get here on time.”

“Only you could be late when you’ve been in the damned building for eight hours before dinner,” Darren said.

I patted his arm and gave him a condescending smile. “It’s okay, Eric. We understand.” I looked at Darren. “Maybe for his birthday this year, we should get him a digital watch. Maybe the hands on the clock are confusing him.”

Darren snickered.

Eric folded his arms across his chest and pretended to pout. “All right, that’s it, no more free top shelf for you two. It’s all well drinks from now on.”

“Oh please,” I said. “A well drink would be more offensive to you, Liquor Princess, than it would be to us.” He opened his mouth to make a comeback, but abruptly snapped it shut as I ran the toe of my shoe up the inside of his leg. He shot me a glare, then shook his head and laughed. “All right, so what have I missed, being a whole fifteen minutes late?”

“Marisa’s getting divorced,” Darren said.

Eric looked at me with an expression that said he wasn’t sure how to react.

“I thought celebrating with a bottle of champagne would be over the top,” I said with an indifferent shrug. “So, a Margarita will do quite nicely.” I lifted the drink that Eric had made for me earlier and sipped it.

“Awesome,” Eric said with a nod, now that he’d gauged how I felt about the situation. “If he’s not making you happy,” he raised his glass in a mock toast. “Fuck him.”

“Or not,” Darren said.

I laughed. “You know, it’s weird how things worked out. Six months ago, I thought it would just kill me if John actually divorced me. But now…” I shrugged. “Now it just seems…” I trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Inevitable?” The brothers said in unison.

My eyes flicked back and forth between them. “I take it you guys knew from the beginning?”

They both started to speak, but Eric gestured for Darren to go ahead. Darren looked at me. “When he wanted six months without even talking to you, I was pretty sure it was over.”

“And honestly?” Eric said. “You always seemed miserable when you were with him anyway.”

“He’s got a point, Marisa,” Darren said, running his finger around the rim of his glass as he looked at me. “It was probably more obvious from the outside looking in, but he treated you like shit.”

I sipped my drink slowly, letting their words sink in. Now that they said it, they were absolutely right. In John’s presence, I was tense. Always. Sometimes to the point of tears. Everything in our marriage was one-sided, something I hadn’t really come to realize until I saw how one-sided our sex life was. Something I didn’t notice at all until I’d slept with Darren. And, I thought, feeling a little guilty, Darren’s brother. After a moment, I said, “Well, it’s over now. Thank God.” I raised my glass. “To moving on.”

“To moving on,” they said, raising their glasses. We toasted my divorce and moved on to lighter topics. All the while, I couldn’t help but think about how much had changed since John and I had separated. How much I had changed, specifically. Darren had started out teaching me to take the reins in bed, get what I wanted, and not put up with any less. Yet everything he had taught me, every inch he’d drawn me out of my shell, had permeated the rest of my life. The less crap I took in bed, the less crap I took at work. The less one-sidedness I tolerated in the bedroom, the less I was willing to accept it in my marriage or anywhere else.

The only thing that unsettled me about this arrangement was this situation with Eric and Darren. As my eyes shifted back and forth between the brothers during our lighthearted conversation, a knot grew in my stomach. Committed relationship or no, I owed it to Darren to be honest with him about Eric. Yet, for all the confidence he’d given me, my insecurities came roaring back when I thought about telling him.

Soon, I promised myself. I’ll tell him. I just need to talk to Eric first. And think of a way to bring it up. I had to tell him. No excuses. I had to tell him.

And I would, I vowed. Soon.

Thirty Five

I pulled my cream-colored coat off of the hanger and looked in the mirror as I dressed. Then I paused, eyeing my own reflection, looking at the bland ensemble that pretty much resembled what I wore every day.

Cubicle camouflage, Colette’s words echoed in my head.

Why was I trying to hide? If anything, I wanted to be noticed by a particular someone. Someone who, I realized, would be in the office that day to discuss a few things.

I pursed my lips and looked myself in the eye in the mirror. He was completely and totally out of my league, but why should I keep trying to blend in with the office décor? Maybe Max would never notice me, but I had no need to hide from him or anyone else.

Darren had made me realize I had no need to be embarrassed by my own desires. At that moment, standing in front of the mirror in my cubicle-colored suit, I realized I had no need to be embarrassed by trying to look desirable either.

Stripping out of the suit, I went into my closet to find something else. After twenty minutes of cursing and muttering and self-doubt, I found something suitable.

The skirt was black and shorter than what I usually wore, clinging to my hips and barely hiding the outline of my garter beneath it. The garter itself was dangerously close to the hem of the skirt, but I liked it.

The blouse I chose was scarlet red and instead of being buttoned to my throat, it dipped low enough in the front to show just a hint of cleavage. The black coat I wore over it actually gave the illusion that I was wearing even less, with the blouse showing as little more than a bright sliver of red between my skin and the coat.

The ensemble was still conservative and professional, but it wasn’t going to make me blend into the walls. It wasn’t slutty, but it was bold. I didn’t care if I was the only soul in the world who noticed the difference. I liked it.

I took one last look in the mirror and headed out the door.

As I pulled into the parking lot, Max’s car caught my eye. Self-doubt tugged at my confidence, but I forced it back. I wasn’t doing this entirely for him, I was doing it mostly for me. His presence or absence didn’t make much of a difference.

“This isn’t about him,” I told myself as I put the car in park. “This is about me.”

As I walked through the glass double doors, I forced myself to keep my head up and my shoulders back. I’d spent the last few years memorizing the cracks and flaws in the linoleum that lined this hallway, and damn it, I didn’t need to look at it anymore.

I paused at the receptionist’s desk to pick up some messages. As I did, Colette’s voice came from behind me. “Well, look who decided to come out of the woodwork.”

I looked at her and smiled, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. “Just thought it was time for a change.”

She nudged me with her elbow and gave me a conspiratorial wink. “And it’s just a coincidence that you decided to go for a change on one of Max’s in-office days?”

My first reaction was to feel completely mortified, but then I thought, Oh hell, why should I be embarrassed about it? Colette knew and as far as I could tell, there were no Millers within earshot. I grinned and shrugged. “Well, it seemed like a good day to do it.” I winked at her.

“Tart,” she said, giggling. Then she gave me a more serious look. “All joking aside, you look good. It’s nice to see you step out of that cubicle camouflage.”

And what I wouldn’t give to let Max see me step out of this outfit, for that matter. But I kept that thought to myself and just said, “Thanks.”

On my way to my desk, Max came around the corner,

merrily chewing that damned gum and talking to one of the guys from the production department. He glanced at me, then did a double take and stopped, his jaw frozen in mid-chew. He recovered quickly, though. “Hey, Marisa,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m meeting you at eleven, right?” He resumed chewing his gum.

“Same time as always,” I said with a smile that hopefully betrayed the fact that my knees were turning to water and my heart was pounding my ears and God damn it Max stop doing that with your fucking mouth unless you’re planning on kissing me with it.

He kept walking and so did I. I went to my desk, replaying our encounter in my head, and I couldn’t help but grin at that little pause of his. Whether it meant anything or not, I didn’t care. For the first time, Max Gordon noticed I was alive.

I wondered if it would just be a momentary thing, or if I stood a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping his attention long enough to—

No, Marisa, don’t even think about it right now. Work to do. Job. Professionalism.

I tried to clear my mind of all things Gordon as I started working. Within minutes, I was glancing at the clock every five seconds because eleven o’clock just wasn’t happening fast enough.

Thirty Six

“Ready for me?” Max said as he came into my cubicle. I glanced up at him. His cheeks colored and his face twisted into a “that didn’t come out right” expression. He cleared his throat and avoided my eyes.

I’ve been ready for you for a long time, Max. I tried not to smirk. “Did you bring your expense reports this time?”

He held up the file folder and smiled, holding my gaze a moment longer than usual. He took his usual seat in the chair beside my desk.

I shuffled through one of the folders and pulled out a Visa statement. “I found a few discrepancies between your last month’s expense reports and the Visa statement. I need to go over some of those.” The weight of his stare caught my attention. I realized he’d been watching me, not looking at the reports like he usually did when we talked.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What?”

I waved the statement at him. “Visa. Expense report. Discrepancies.” Christ, don’t look at me like that, Max, or we’ll never finish this.

I laid the report and the statement on the desk, gesturing at the discrepancies that I’d highlighted for him. He craned his neck towards them. As he did, his brow furrowed with concentration, and his cheek and jaw moved as he played with his gum with his tongue.

“Two words,” Colette said in my mind. “Oral. Fixation.” I swallowed hard.

“I think I remember what happened with this one,” Max said, gesturing at the Visa statement. “I think it’s here, let me…” He trailed off as he searched through one of his folders. His jaw came forward slightly, shifting to one side, then the other.

Colette’s voice echoed through my head again. “The man is always doing something with his mouth. Always.”

His cheek hollowed and I guessed he was rolling the gum around on his tongue.  Lucky gum.

I let out a breath and turned to reach for my coffee cup, hoping the three seconds it took for me to take a sip would be long enough for the color to drain out of my face, because I must have been scarlet red by that point.

“Here it is,” he said. I turned back, but avoided his eyes, trying my damndest to stay professional.

The office was mostly deserted around lunchtime, but Max and I stayed to finish our meeting. Everything we needed to cover was long since finished, but I kept finding reasons to keep it going. As he suggested going over his travel expense report just one more time, I got the distinct impression he was doing the same thing.

I could barely concentrate. Smoke. Cologne. Mint. God, I wanted to taste him.

I tried to focus on the report, but from the corner of my eye, I caught him casting a surreptitious glance at my blouse. Or rather, the hint of cleavage I’d deliberately left visible. Was it my imagination? Was he really checking me out?

Shifting my weight in my chair, I leaned forward a little, making sure my blouse fell away just enough to let him see a bit more.

A subtle catch of his breath.

Busted.

He looked up and caught me watching him. His cheeks colored. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat and looked at the report. “Where were we?”

“What kind of cologne is that?” I asked, keeping my voice down just in case any prying ears lingered nearby.

He blinked. “What?” I loved the startled expression on his face.

“The cologne you’re wearing,” I said. “What is it?”

He smiled and looked me in the eye. “Do you like it?”

I smiled back and didn’t back down from his intense stare. “I do.”

He leaned closer, not close enough to touch, but enough to encroach on my space. “It’s Hugo Boss.” His eyes left mine and this time he made no effort to hide the fact that he was looking at my cleavage. He tongued his gum behind his lips. Show me what else you can do with that tongue, Max.

I leaned back in my chair and looked at him, folding my hands on top of my crossed thighs. He met my eyes, an odd mix of arrogance and uncertainty in his expression. Did I dare? Darren’s words echoed in my consciousness: You have to learn to be a bit shameless. Don't be embarrassed of your own desires.

I was a heartbeat away from opening my mouth to speak when Max beat me to it: “Listen, do you want to go out for drinks sometime?”  Was that uncertainty in his voice? Nervousness?

I smiled. “Name the time and place.”

His lips parted again. Had he really expected me to turn him down? So much for being out of my league, Mr. Gordon. I let myself feel just a little bit smug for a moment, but then he startled me by touching my knee. I jumped and he grinned. “Is this okay?” he asked, nodding towards his hand with an expression that told me he knew damn good and well I wasn’t going to protest.

“It’s fine,” I said, not sounding nearly as confident as I wanted to. He chuckled, and I swore he was gloating. I was simultaneously annoyed that he’d once again gained the upper hand—so to speak—and aroused at the warmth of his fingers through my whisper-thin nylons.

“How about…” He paused. “What are you doing tonight?”

Be a bit shameless. “I guess that’s up to you, isn’t it?”

He lifted an eyebrow and swallowed hard. And Marisa gains control once again. I heard Darren’s mock-announcer voice in my head and forced myself not to laugh. Max smiled. “I’d offer to pick you up, but I doubt there would be much in the way of drinks if I met you at your place.” He smirked as he chewed his gum.

My cheeks burned at the brazenness of his riposte, but I wasn’t about to be outdone. “So maybe going out for drinks would be a waste of time.”

His teeth clicked together. His thumb dipped under the hem of my skirt, but I managed to resist giving him any kind of response. Watching my eyes for a second, he slid his hand under my skirt, up my thigh. The smirk on his face spread as he watched me, waiting for a response.

Then his fingertips found the garter.

His breath caught and his eyes darted to my thigh. Fingering the strap, he looked up at me, his eyes wide and lips apart.

I grinned, narrowing my eyes. “What time are you picking me up, Max?”

Game. Set. Match.

Thirty Seven

The last few hours of the day crawled by. Of all days to have to stay for an extra hour, it had to be the day I was going out with Max. But I had a few things to finish up and I’d promised my boss I’d stay until six. Fortunately, most of my tasks that night were little more than mundane, tedious reconciliations that I could do in my sleep. I went through the motions while my mind went through the motions of what could happen with Max that night.

By five thirty, the office was deserted except for me. By five forty-five, I was watching the clock more than I was actually working. Fifteen more minutes and I could get the hell out of here, hurry home, and change into something a bit less professional before Max showed up at eight.

The ringing phone startled me, and my heart sank as Max’s cell phone came up on the caller ID. Don’t you dare cancel on me, Max, don’t you dare.

“Accounting, this is Marisa,” I said, just in case anyone else remained in the office.

“You sound so professional.” The grin in his voice made my knees weak.

“I usually behave that way at work,” I said with a laugh.

“What would it take to persuade you to behave unprofessionally at work?”

I twirled the phone cord between my fingers and smirked. “It would take someone very, very persuasive.” I paused. “So what’s up? You’re not calling to cancel on me, are you?”

He laughed. “Not on your life, gorgeous.”

My heart skipped. “So why are you calling?”

“Do you want me to hang up?”

“You’d better not.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “I just had something I wanted to ask you.” His voice sounded unsteady, as if he was moving while he was talking. There was an odd echo, too.

I leaned back in my chair. So much for getting anything else done. “Okay, shoot.”

“I was just wondering what else you were wearing with that garter.”

“Is that so?”

The line suddenly went dead and something snapped behind me. I spun around in my chair and gasped.

Max leaned against the cubicle wall, his cell phone in his hand. “Yes, it is so.” He came towards me, put his hands on the armrests of my chair, and leaned over me. Cologne. Smoke. Mint. Fuck.  “So, what are you wearing under it?”

I swallowed my surprise and held his gaze, meeting his grin with my own. I uncrossed my legs, then crossed them again, smiling as he drew in a breath through his nose at the exact same speed that the toe of my shoe ran up the inside of his leg. “You couldn’t wait until eight to find out?”

He laughed. “I was afraid you’d be wearing something else by then, and I’d never know.”

“I probably wouldn’t have been wearing this, you’re right.”

“So what would you have been wearing?”

“I thought you wanted to know what I’m wearing now.”

He released an armrest and put his hand on my thigh, sliding it under my skirt. “I do.” He fingered the garter strap. “But I’m curious what you would have been wearing had I waited to come pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” I laughed. “You make it sound like you expected us to go anywhere.” That surprised look again. I smirked. “What’s wrong, Max? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sassy woman,” he growled. Then, he kissed me. His tongue parted my lips and brought the tastes of mint and smoke into my mouth. I moaned softly and put my arms around his neck.

He stood up, pulling me to my feet without ever breaking the long, intoxicating kiss. I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He gave a subtle shrug and let it fall to the floor, then put his hands on my hips and pulled me to him, pressing his erection against me.

I pulled away gently and looked into his eyes. “You really want to know what I’m wearing with the garter?” My voice was unsteady, but I didn’t care.

He exhaled sharply. “Fuck yes.” His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. I grinned and he raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question. I nodded. He pulled me into another kiss and lifted me onto my desk. “Whatever you’re wearing,” he growled as he pushed my skirt up my thighs. “You won’t be wearing it long.”

And with that he dropped to his knees and pulled me to the edge of the desk. He kissed the inside of my knee as his fingers ran up my inner thigh, and we both gasped as he found the answer to his question.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, easily sliding his fingers into my unclothed pussy. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He exhaled, the throaty sigh bordering on a deep groan. “Sweet Jesus, you’re wet.” He looked up at me, a devilish grin on his face. “Someone’s been thinking dirty thoughts.”

“And I doubt I’m the only one who—” I gasped as his thumb brushed over my clit. He laughed. Then he kissed my inner thigh. Again, a little higher. I gripped the edge of my desk as his tongue teased the entrance to my pussy. His tongue slid inside me and he growled softly, the vibration of his voice taking my breath away. I let out a whimper.

He held my hips and devoured not just my clit, but all of my pussy. I swore he was fucking me with his tongue, sliding far enough inside me that I was almost certain he was going to find my G-spot with it. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. Oral fixation or not, the man knew what he was doing with his tongue.

Suddenly, his mouth broke contact with my pussy and he stood, pulling me into a deep kiss. He gripped my hair, holding me to him as he breathed me, tasted me, let me taste myself on his tongue.

“Jesus,” he whispered, breaking the kiss. “I can’t wait.” I didn’t have to ask, especially not as he reached for his jacket. He cursed as he rooted around in one of the pockets, then pulled a condom free. “I want you now,” he said. He held the wrapped condom between his teeth and fumbled with his belt, his hands shaking. I took a breath as he shoved his jeans and boxers out of the way and revealed his cock. Just hours ago, I was certain he was out of my league, but there he was, in my cubicle, struggling to get a condom on with trembling hands so he could fuck me.

As soon as the condom was on, he was against me again, kissing me hungrily. He pulled my legs around his waist and held onto my hips with unsteady hands. When he thrust into me, I whimpered and grabbed his shoulders, his shirt bunching in my hands as he fucked me.

An office door opened.

We both froze, staring at each other. I held my breath. So did he. He tilted his head, and I guessed he was listening just as I was.

Footsteps came down the hall towards us.  My cubicle was second from the end where the hall intersected with another. If they turned at the intersection, we’d be safe. If they kept going straight, we were busted. If we moved, if we made a sound, we’d draw attention to our presence, and there was no time to even think about fixing our clothes and pretending nothing was happening.

Whoever it was had come out of an office and, judging by the sharp clicking on the floor, those were dress shoes, which meant it wasn’t the janitor. It was a manager. One of the brass. Someone with the power to get both of us into some serious trouble.

My heart pounded. Max swallowed.

The footsteps came closer. Paused. Papers shuffled.

In spite of the possible consequences of getting caught, the thrill was intoxicating. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Max stared at me, puzzled, and I slowly hooked my leg around him, pulling him deeper. He closed his eyes and tightened his lips, obviously trying not to make a sound.

The footsteps were almost to us. I squeezed Max’s cock and he buried his face against my shoulder, barely muffling a faint groan.

The intruder entered the cubicle next to mine. I

couldn’t quite hear them moving, but I sensed their presence, sensed movement. Papers shuffled. A drawer just beyond the dividing wall opened, closed, the vibration rattling through my desk.

Max withdrew slightly, pushed in again. I bit my lip, choking back a moan. His fingers dug into my hips. Mine dug into his shoulders. His body rubbed against my clit and I struggled to breathe without crying out, without making a sound at all.

Shuffling papers. The crunch of a stapler.

Max exhaled against my shoulder; I couldn’t hear it, but his breath warmed my neck. He pulled out slowly, then back in, then again, taking the longest, slowest, quietest strokes in the history of fucking. The earliest hints of an orgasm trembled within me.

Footsteps again. Exiting the cubicle. Pausing. Turn left, for the love of God, turn left, I silently begged. Max’s lips pressed against my neck, very nearly making me whimper. I wanted to come. I needed to come. I was so very, very fucking close to just letting go.

I held my breath.

The footsteps abruptly changed direction, turning down the intersecting hallway and fading into the distance. The farther away they went, the faster Max moved inside me, and the closer I came to losing control.

A door in the distance opened, closed, and the entire office fell silent except for Max’s breath against my shoulder. He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. “Now that it’s just us,” he growled through his teeth. I expected another witty comment, but instead, he grasped my hips tighter and fucked me.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, the creaking of my desk almost completely muffling my voice. “Oh fuck, yes.” I hooked my ankles against the small of his back and tilted my hips as much as I could in such an odd position, but it was enough to let him ram the hell out of my G-spot. In moments, I came, clawing at his shirt and begging him not to stop and squeezing his cock with my pussy until he drove himself all the way inside me and groaned against my neck.

For a long moment, we just sat there, trembling, holding each other up as our bodies shook. The room spun around me, and as it came to a halt, I could barely comprehend what we’d done and where we were. My heart still raced from my orgasm and the thrill of nearly getting caught.

Max stepped back, gently releasing me and easing me to my feet. My knees were unsteady, but I noticed with some satisfaction that his were too. Out of my league, indeed.

He picked his jacket up off the floor and looked at me. “You know, if I’d known about this side of you, I’d have asked you out a long time ago.”

I laughed and straightened my skirt. “I guess we’re both full of surprises. I didn’t think you noticed me.”

He put his hands on my hips and pulled me in for a long, gentle kiss. “Trust me,” he said. “I noticed you. But even after I heard about your separation, I didn’t want to push it.”

“What do you mean?”

“With as conservative as you—” He looked down at my half-buttoned shirt, at our rumpled clothing, then back at me. “With as conservative as I thought you were, I figured you were a sexual harassment case waiting to happen.” He cupped my breast through my blouse. “But I see now that I was sorely, sorely mistaken.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” I said.

“Indeed.” He kissed me again, the taste of smoke and mint and me on his tongue making me weak. Then he whispered, “So, do I still get to pick you up at eight?”

“No,” I said simply. He looked surprised and disappointed, but then I added, “But you’re more than welcome to come back with me now.”

The disappointment evaporated, but the surprise lingered. He swallowed. “Lead the way.”

Thirty Eight

Max followed me back to my apartment. We didn’t dare leave either of our cars at work overnight. I shuddered to think of what the Millers would have done with that information had we arrived at work together with one of our cars in the same place it was the night before.

The drive was less than twenty minutes, but every second was agony. I gripped the steering wheel and chewed my lip, cursing the miles that just refused to go by any faster.

My commute was so familiar that I rarely noticed any of the scenery, but that night I saw it all in a very different light. A parking lot looked like it had more than enough shadows and distractions to obscure a car with steamed-up windows. The cheap motel with the burned-out neon sign suddenly seemed worth the forty dollars to have a bed and some privacy. The park. An alley. At one stoplight, I seriously considered just pulling over and letting him fuck me in the car, right there in the middle of town.

“No,” I told myself through clenched teeth. “Just a little farther.” But that didn’t stop me from continuing to see the familiar scenery through lust-colored glasses. Every shadow was a potential hiding place, every building had a back wall that couldn’t be seen from the road, and every cluster of trees would have done in a pinch.

Glancing in the rearview at the last stoplight, I met Max’s eyes. He wetted his lips and smiled at me, chewing his gum and drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. I couldn’t tell if he was keeping time with the music on the radio, or if he was just impatient like I was.

Chewing my lip, I tried to ignore the way my pussy ached. Something told me that before the night was over, I was going to have some torn clothing and broken furniture, assuming we didn’t just burn the damned place to the ground.

I shivered and turned on my signal, pulling into my apartment’s parking lot. Even there, just a few yards from the stairs leading up to my own apartment, I caught myself scanning the area for a place to hide from prying eyes, tear Max’s clothes off, and get his cock into me.

Jesus, Marisa, calm down. But I was too turned on for rational thought.

Max pulled into one of the visitor parking spots near my car. As he came towards me, his jacket was draped over his arm in front of him, and I had a feeling that placement was anything but accidental. Neither of us spoke as we started up the stairs to my apartment. We didn’t touch, we didn’t talk. I think he knew as well as I did that as soon as we made contact, we’d both lose control. The distance and the silence were aggravating, but necessary.

As I opened the door, he gestured for me to go in first. We barely made it over the threshold before he grabbed me by the hips and spun me around, pulling me into a deep kiss. He stepped backwards, bringing me with him, pushing the door closed with his back.

I wanted nothing more than to get him out of his clothes, to finally see if the naked Max was as mouthwatering as the naked Max of my fantasies, but I couldn’t will my hands to work. For a moment, I wasn’t even aware of the way his cock pressed against me or of that tingling ache in my pussy that had driven me insane since we’d fucked in the office. Every bit of my consciousness was focused on one thing and one thing only: Max’s mouth.

As soon as he kissed me, time stopped. In spite of the primal hunger igniting the air between us, the palpable need to tear each other’s clothes off and fuck right now, his kiss was gentle.

Slow.

Calm.

For the longest time, it was just his lips against mine, drawing out a long, sensual kiss. He backed off for a heartbeat, came back for more, did it again. He ran his tongue across my lower lip, and when my lips parted with a whisper of a moan, his tongue slipped past. The tip of his tongue met the underside of mine and drew it into his mouth. It was only when his fingers went from the back of my neck and into my hair, raising goosebumps all over my skin, that I became aware that a world still existed beyond Max’s kiss.

He pulled back gently and looked at me, running his tongue across his lower lip. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long, long time.”

I swallowed hard. “That makes two of us.” The electricity in the air between us raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

“I thought fucking you in the office would take the edge off,” he said, pulling my hips against his. “But all it did was make me want you more.”

I tugged at his shirt and stepped back. “Then let’s not waste time here in the hallway.” He nodded and followed me into the bedroom.

He kissed me beside the bed, then shifted his weight, knocking me off balance and sending us tumbling onto the bed. He rested his weight on his elbow and pushed my skirt up to my hip. “Fuck, I don’t want to wait. I want to be inside you again.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a condom out.

I shivered. As much as I wanted to take my time and explore every inch of him, to see what else his mouth could do, his sentiments echoed my own; forget foreplay, fuck me now.

He gasped as I reached for his belt. My fingers refused to cooperate, but with his help, we managed to get his belt unbuckled and his jeans far enough out of the way to free his cock.

My heart pounded as he tore the packet open with his teeth and took care of putting the condom on. He grinned at me. “I’m going to get you naked yet,” he said. “But for now, I just can’t wait.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he silenced me with a deep kiss, working his magic on my mouth just as he had by the front door. He kissed me as he shifted positions, and I moaned at the warmth of his hips against my inner thighs.

He thrust into me and we both broke our lingering kiss with a simultaneous gasp. No longer constrained by the awkward position on my desk, he was all the way inside me, his cock pushing the limits of what my pussy could comfortably handle. I moaned as he withdrew slowly, whimpered as he slid back in.

“Marisa, oh my God,” he whispered, his arms shaking beneath him. “Oh fuck…” He trailed off, exhaling against my neck. He slid his arms under my back and hooked his hands over my shoulders, the fabric of my blouse bunching between his fingers. “God, you feel incredible.”  He moved slowly, pulling almost all the way out each time before letting me have him again inch by agonizing inch.

“Fuck me,” I said, swallowing hard and trying to convince my tongue to work. “Hard.”

He didn’t need any convincing. He pulled out, then slammed into me, and I cried out, overwhelmed by him as he hit places only two other men had ever found before.

He exhaled against my neck. “Is this how you like it? Do you like that, Marisa?”

I didn’t bother trying to form any coherent words. Instead, I rocked my hips back and wrapped my legs around him, hooking my ankles against the small of his back, driving him even deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. I wanted it harder, faster, deeper, but I couldn’t even remember what language I spoke, couldn’t form the—

He shifted his position a little, pushing himself forward so that he was even deeper inside me. “You want it hard?” he growled, withdrawing slowly. His cock grazed my G-spot and white light crept into my vision. His voice sounded a thousand miles away as he said, “Then you’ll get it hard.”

And he did just that, pounding my pussy so hard that it hurt, and I loved every second of it.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, forgetting where I was, who I was.

“God you feel amazing,” he said.

“You’re going to—” A deep thrust knocked the breath out of me and lodged my words in my throat.

“Tell me,” he said, never breaking his rhythm even as he spoke. “Oh fuck, baby, tell me. Whatever you want.”

“I’m going to come.” The words came out as little more than a sigh. He responded with a deep groan and fucked me faster still. I thought I screamed his name, I thought I heard his groan crescendo into a roar, but all I knew for certain was the explosion of icy-hot lightning inside me, and I saw white.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight when you come,” he groaned, his voice barely penetrating the delirium he’d sent me into. “Oh fuck, oh…fuck…” And he drove himself as far in as my pussy would take him, and came.

Thirty Nine

We were both tense and still for a long moment as our orgasms peaked and tapered. I relaxed. After a moment, he did too. I released the handful of his shirt that I’d clung to, realizing with some amusement that I had now fucked him twice and still I hadn’t seen him naked.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

“My sentiments exactly,” I said, drawing him into a gentle kiss. Then I said with a wink, “Join me for a shower?”

“I’d love to.” He nuzzled my neck. “Now I can finally see you naked.”

“All you had to do was ask.” I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse, but he stopped my hand.

“No, no, allow me.” He ran his fingers over the front of my blouse. One by one, taking his sweet time, he unbuttoned it. He pushed it aside and cupped my breast, circling my nipple with his thumb through my bra. “I had a feeling you were hiding a gorgeous body all this time.”

My cheeks burned and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m serious.” He ran his hand down my side and over the swell of my hip. “A figure like this shouldn’t be hidden from the rest of the world.”

“You want me to dress more like the receptionists?”

He snorted. “Please. There’s dressing sexy and there’s dressing like a whore.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked their type.”

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Come on, now, I have taste.” I eyed him and he laughed. “I know, I know, the Millers say I’ve fucked every last one of them.”

“Haven’t you?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t get around quite as much as the Millers would have you believe.”

“Really?”

“That’s not to say I’ve never slept with anyone at the company,” he said. “But my roster is far, far shorter than the rumors suggest.”

“Wonders never cease,” I said with a laugh.

“Says the woman who dressed like a church mouse and then showed up dressed like—” He paused, looking at my discarded clothes, letting out a long breath. The rest of his words came out as barely a whisper, “Dressed like a woman who any man would give his right arm to fuck.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me into bed,” I said.

“I already have you in bed,” he chuckled. “And after I get you into the shower, I intend to get you into bed again.”

“There’s something I want from you first.”

His eyebrows jumped.

I laughed. “I have been dying to see what you’re hiding under all of these clothes for the past few years.”

With a devilish twinkle in his eyes, he said, “I think you’ve already felt what I’m hiding.”

“I want to see everything you have.” Trailing my fingers over his shoulder, I paused to tug at his sleeve. “You’re hiding some ink under there, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I am,” he said.

“I know you are.”

He cocked his head. “How?”

“Because it shows through when you wear that white polo shirt.” That damned white polo shirt that has driven me wild more times than I can count.

He snickered and bent to kiss my neck. “You must have been looking pretty hard to see through my shirt.”

“Would you file a sexual harassment grievance against me if I said that I was?”

He laughed and pushed himself up so he was sitting. “No,” he said. “But I might fuck you again.” With that, he pulled his shirt off, and I had to bite my lip as I finally saw Max Gordon the way I’d craved.

He was nothing like the Max Gordon I’d fantasized about. Not even close.

Without a shirt, his shoulders seemed even broader.

Both his chest and shoulders were nothing if not fucking powerful, and from there his body tapered into the narrow waist I’d so easily hooked my legs around earlier. He certainly wasn’t a body builder, but he wasn’t lacking anywhere. His abs could have given Darren’s a run for their money.

And the tattoos. Jesus. The tattoos.

I knew about the ink on his biceps, but I hadn’t realized he had more on his pectorals. As he turned to toss his shirt on the floor behind him, I caught a glimpse of more on his shoulders. My mouth watered.

“So,” he said, making a face and gesturing at his own body. “There it is. Are all of your fantasies crushed?”

I swallowed. “Not in the least.” I sat up. “How many tattoos do you have?”

“Six.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

“One on each arm, one on each pec, two on my back,” he said. He watched me as I looked over his impressive collection. “You like tattoos?”

“I love them.” I touched his arm, getting a closer look at the tattoo on that bicep. It was a bulldog with a globe and anchor, an emblem I was familiar with from my brother’s time in the military. “I didn’t know you were a Marine.”

He smiled. “Surprise.”

I laughed. “You are full of surprises, Mr. Gordon.” I quickly added “tattooed Max Gordon” and “camouflaged, heavily-armed Max Gordon” to my fantasy repertoire.

He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me to him, his hot skin brushing deliciously against my nipples. “How about that shower?”

“I don’t know if there’s a shower hot enough to make you any less filthy, Max,” I said, kissing him.

He laughed. “You’re probably right. But I want to see you wet.”

“You’ve already made me wet.”

He shivered and took in a breath through his nose. “Well if that’s the way you’re going to be…” He laughed, then pulled back and leaned towards the nightstand. “I’d better bring one of these into the shower with us.” Picking up one of the condoms, he held it between his fingers, flashing me a grin that would have knocked my legs out from under me had I not been sitting.

He took my hand and helped me to my feet. We both stripped out of the last of our clothes, and I led him across the hall to the bathroom.

It was a small apartment, so naturally, it had a small bathroom with the requisite tiny shower and tub, but it would have to do. I didn’t imagine we’d need a whole lot of room, since we’d probably be all over each other as soon as the water was on.

And I was right: As soon as we were under the water, he put his arms around me and kissed me.

Between kissing and touching and otherwise teasing, we managed to get ourselves clean, but neither of us made any effort to get out of the shower. Max pulled me into a deep kiss and nudged me back. I took a step and he leaned into me again. I took another step and yelped in surprise as my shoulders touched the cold wall, but he held me there. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, sucked gently on one nipple, then the other. Then he trailed kisses down the center of my chest, and my abdomen, and I realized he was going down to his knees in front of me. Oh fuck. There was no doubt in my mind what he was doing. But here? In the shower? Standing?

I couldn’t channel my thoughts into any kind of question as he kissed every last scrap of rational thought out of me, drawing his tongue down the ridge of my hip bone. He was on his knees then, and he pushed my thighs apart gently.

Kissing the inside of my knee, he trailed his fingertips down the back of my leg. His hand wrapped around my ankle and he tugged gently. He looked up at me. “Bring your leg up.”

I cocked my head. “Up? What do you mean?”

He tapped his shoulder and grinned.

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

“I want to taste you right now,” he said. He winked. “I won’t drop you, I promise. You’re small enough for me to hold up.”

Before I could even try to comprehend how many laws of physics he was suggesting we ignore, he nudged my ankle again. I shifted my weight to my other leg, and he lifted me up, resting my thigh on his shoulder. He put his hands under my ass and held me steady, leaning me against the wall for balance. My heart skipped as he brought my other leg up, resting it on his other shoulder. I was certain I was going to fall, certain that he was going to drop me, certain that—

His mouth found my clit, and I forgot all about our strange position as he taught me the meaning of the phrase “oral fixation”. His tongue alternated between a firm, solid presence against my clit and a soft, gentle touch. He approached my clit with his lips, backed off, came back for more, devouring my pussy just like he did my mouth.

There was nothing for me to hold on to in this strange levitated position, so I ran both hands through his soaked hair, pulling him closer to my pussy. Over the sound of the shower, I didn’t hear him moan softly, but I felt it, loud and clear in the form of a delicious vibration across my clit, and I let out a helpless sound of my own. His voice again rippled across my clit, and the whimper I released this time quickly crescendoed into a helpless cry as he sent me over the edge once again.

He let me down slowly, easing first one foot, then the other, to the floor. He held my hips until he must have been satisfied that I could stand on my own, then rose to kiss me.

“My God, you’re amazing with your mouth,” I said, closing my eyes as the blood went back into my legs and the last aftershocks of my orgasm rippled through me.

“Why thank you,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked, still breathless from my orgasm and trying to comprehend what we’d just done. “Holding someone up like that?”

He laughed. “When I had a sexy woman up against a shower wall and wanted to eat her pussy.” He winked

I blinked. “You’d never tried that before tonight?”

“No,” he said. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

“All right, I can’t argue with that.”

He chuckled. “Just call me Climax Gordon.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “I swear to God, I will tell the Millers about that.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Because if you told them that, they’d know you were fucking me.”

“I’ll tell them I heard it from the janitor after I walked in on you two.”

He grimaced. “Oh, now that’s cold.”

“I play dirty.”

“I like it when you’re dirty.” He didn’t wait for a response, instead pulling me to him and kissing me. As we kissed beneath the hot water, he nudged me with his hip and laughed at my startled gasp. He was already hard again.

“Jesus, you recover quickly,” I said.

He kissed me. “What can I say? You turn me on. In fact…” He grabbed the condom off of the edge of the tub. “You turn me on so much that I need to get my cock in you again.”

As he put the condom on, I said, “So what sort of gravity-defying position are we going to use this time?”

“We’re not defying gravity.” He grabbed my hips and turned me around, pushing me up against the shower wall and nudging my legs apart with his knee. Then he flinched. “Jesus!”

“What?” I looked over my shoulder, puzzled.

“Cold fucking water,” he said through his teeth. He leaned away from me for a second and the water stopped.

I snickered. “Oh yeah, the hot water doesn’t last long here.”

He growled and put his hands on my waist and pulled me against him.  “Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime.” Without the white noise of the shower drowning out most sounds, our voices seemed sharper than before, louder, echoing in the tiny bathroom. I was even acutely aware of the barely audible whisper of his hands sliding from my waist to my hips.

My skin was starting to get cold as the bathroom cooled, but Max didn’t make any move to let me go. Over my shoulder, I said, “Why don’t we go back into the bedroom?”

“No,” he said simply. His knee pushed mine farther apart and I gasped as his cock teased my pussy. “I’m not moving until I fuck you again.” And with a thrust of his hips, he did just that, pinning me against the wall and

slamming his cock into me.

I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of heart-stopping sensations he unleashed with each thrust. “Oh fuck…” I said. At this angle, his cock hit my G-spot perfectly, over and over, fucking perfectly, driving me within an inch of insanity. My long, drawn out moans were punctuated by Max’s thrusts, broken into a series of staccato yelps as he knocked the air out of me.

Then he slowed down, taking infuriatingly long, slow strokes.

“Faster,” I pleaded.

“Faster?”

“Please.”

“But I’m enjoying this.” The lilt in his voice told me he was doing it on purpose.

“Please.”

“But Marisa,” he teased. “I…”

I squeezed his cock with my pussy as hard as I could and rocked my hips forward, pulling him in.

He exhaled. “Jesus Christ…” I did it again and he groaned.

“Now that I have your attention,” I said. “Fuck. Me. Faster.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he said, his voice strained. He gripped my hips and fucked me just the way I wanted it, hard and fast. Harder. Faster. Deeper into my pussy, working my G-spot as if it was deliberately placed in the perfect spot for his cock.

One hand released my hip and slid towards my clit. A pre-emptive tremor rippled through me even before his fingers found their mark, and as soon as they did, my world went white once again.

When the trembling ceased, Max kissed my shoulder. “Let’s go back into the bedroom.”

Forty

We were still damp from the shower, but neither of us bothered to towel off. The bedspread could be dried. I needed Max inside me again, and I needed him now.

He threw me onto the bed, hard enough to make me yelp, but not enough to hurt. “You all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, barely breathing. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I’m fine. Just…oh my God, Max…” I couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t need me to tell him. He groaned as he thrust his cock into me again.  After my last orgasm, after the way he’d devoured me and fucked me in the shower, I was dizzy with arousal. I was far beyond turned on.

Faltering a little, he cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

He kissed me gently and laughed. “My legs are getting tired.”

“Then let me get on top,” I said.

“I like the sound of that.” We changed positions, and he groaned softly as I took him inside me.

I moved faster, then slower, adjusting my speed whenever he got accustomed to one rhythm, catching him off guard each time. And every time, I was rewarded with a catch of his breath, a startled gasp, a soft groan.

“My God, that’s awesome,” he whispered.

“Like that?” I asked.

“Ohh, yeah,” he said. “I don’t know which I like better, the way you look right now, or the way you feel.” He ran his hands up and down my sides, letting out a long breath as he watched me slowly ride him.

I adjusted my position so that his cock pressed right against my G-spot each time I came down. “Oh my God,” I said as I moved faster.

“That’s fucking beautiful. Holy hell, that’s hot.” He held my hips and thrust upward to meet me each time I came down. It felt good, but it kept him from hitting my G-spot the way I liked.

“Like this,” I breathed. I took his wrists and pinned them beside his head, riding him at exactly the right speed and angle. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I worried that he would take offense, take it as criticism, try to stop what I was doing, but he didn’t.

“Oh God, fuck me, baby,” he growled. He pushed back against my grasp on his wrists, but he wasn’t struggling. He closed his eyes, the cords in his neck tightening and his brow bunching.

“Oh my God, oh fuck…” The sound of my own voice surprised me, but it didn’t embarrass me, not this time. As the first waves of an orgasm shuddered through me, I cried, “Oh my God, Max, fuck…”

“Come baby,” he said. “Jesus, you’re close, aren’t you? Oh baby, come…”

I came, and I came hard, throwing my head back and crying out as if I didn’t care who heard, because I didn’t care who heard anymore. I was on top of the man who was supposed to be out of my league, having an orgasm to end all orgasms, and I wasn’t about to hold back so that my neighbors didn’t hear it.

Over the sound of my own cries came a barely audible whisper, just four words spoken no louder than the release of a breath. “Let me fuck you.”

I opened my eyes and looked down at him. The hunger in his eyes was palpable, especially as his lips parted when an aftershock rippled up my spine.

“Let me fuck you,” he said again. His tone carried a delicious note of desperation, just like Eric’s often did.

I lifted off of him, then came back down, swiveling my hips as I slowly took him inside me again. “But I like fucking you.”

He closed his eyes. “Let me fuck you, baby, let me…oh fuck…”

I kept taking him slowly, agonizingly slowly, watching him lose his mind with each deep stroke.

He wrenched his wrists out of my hands, grabbed my hips, and thrust upward. “I want to fuck you. Now.” He threw me down on the bed and did just that. He slid his arms under my back and gripped my shoulders, giving him more leverage to drive himself as deep as possible into my pussy.

“Like that?” he asked through clenched teeth as he fucked me. “Oh my God, you’re tight. Your pussy is so tight, oh…fuck…”

“Harder.” I could barely breathe, let alone speak. “Fuck me harder.” I dug my fingers into his back and, before I realized what I was doing, my nails bit into his skin.

He threw his head back and roared, breaking his rhythm.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“No, no, do it again. Like, oh fuck, yeah, like that.” He sucked in a breath as I dug my nails in.

I scratched him, hesitantly at first, but the more I did it, the harder he fucked me. I raked my nails down his back and moaned as he drove his cock deeper into me. The slurred, delirious cries coming from my throat sounded like someone else’s voice. “Oh my God, Max, that’s…” I gasped, tried to speak again, settled for little more than a whimper. Just beyond the edge of my vision, sparks of white light flared, the beginnings of yet another orgasm that was still just out of reach, but closing fast.

I rolled my hips back. “Faster,” I whispered. “Oh God, Max, faster.”

He raised his head and looked into my eyes. “Like this?” He fucked me faster, slamming his cock into my G-spot.

“Yes, yes, just—” My breath caught. I clawed his back. I started to speak, only moaned instead.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he said, a note of desperation in his voice. “Tell me how to make you come.”

I wetted my lips. Tried to speak. Tried to breathe.

“Tell me, baby.” His voice was almost a moan. “Oh Christ, I want you to come…”

I took a breath. “Just…” Electricity rippled up my spine. “Like…” My pussy tightened around his cock. “That.” Everything—inside me, around me—exploded in a shower of white light and cries that I could neither understand nor stop.

“Oh fuck, yes!” Max roared, riding my orgasm all the way to its peak before he shuddered against me, his violent roar dissipating into a ragged hiss of breath when he finally came.

He collapsed against me, holding himself up on one elbow so that I could still breathe. My nails no longer dug into his back, but I still held him, letting the last aftershocks of my orgasm shudder through me before I finally let him go.

“You’re amazing,” I whispered, running my fingers through his damp hair. I couldn’t tell if it was still wet from the shower or if it was from sweat, maybe a little of both, but it was cool and soft between my fingers.

“Likewise,” he said, kissing me gently. “I can honestly say that this is not what I expected when I came in for our meeting this morning.”

I laughed, closing my eyes as another aftershock rippled through my pussy just before Max pulled out. I licked my lips and said, “Guess it wasn’t just another day at the office for either of us.”

“Not in the least.” He got up to get rid of the condom. I suppressed a laugh that was as embarrassed as it was amused when I noticed the red welts on his back. He was going to have a road map on his back the next morning, but I doubted he’d mind.

As he came back to bed, he paused, looking at something on my nightstand. “What’s this?” He picked up a book. “’Long Time Coming: An Erotica Novel’?” He gave me a mischievous grin. “I didn’t peg you for an erotica fan. He set the book back on the nightstand before he pulled me into his arms. “But then, I should have known.”

“And why is that?” I asked, kissing him.

“Because with the things you do with your body,” He laughed and trailed his fingertips up my back. “You either read a lot of dirty, dirty material, or someone taught you very, very well.”

Max, if you only knew. “Well, then I can only assume that you have a substantial stash of similar reading material, too,” I said.

He feigned offense. “You assume that I learned all of this from books, that no one came along and taught me?”

I laughed. “All I know is that you know your way around a woman.”

He nuzzled my neck. “I think I’d like to spend a little more time learning my way around this woman in particular.”

“Again? Jesus, Max...”

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you a few minutes to recover.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “I’m on the road tomorrow anyway. No need to walk. Well, after that early morning meeting, but I’ll be sitting for that, too.”

“Won’t the Millers get a kick out of that?” I snickered. “Both of us limping into the office looking like we haven’t slept in weeks.”

He kissed my neck. “Let them talk. They’re just a bunch of busybody old hags.”

“They’d probably all die of jealousy if they knew I fucked you.”

Max’s cheeks darkened and he dropped his gaze, laughing. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, either way,” I said. “No one in the office needs to know. It can be our little secret.”

He kissed me. “You know, I’m not supposed to be in town again until the end of the month, but I could be persuaded to make an extra trip sooner.” He winked at me.

“If it means a repeat of tonight,” I said. “Bring it on.”

“Do I need to bring my expense reports?”

I snorted with laughter. “Only if you want to lay in bed discussing travel expenses and reconciliations.”

He cupped my breast and kissed me. “I think I’d rather lay in bed and discuss female anatomy.”

“Then don’t bring your expense reports.”

“How about if I bring condoms instead?”

“Okay, but under one condition.”

He cocked his head, puzzled.

I trailed my nails across the back of his shoulders, grinning as he shivered. “Bring a lot of condoms.”

Forty One

I was late getting home, still getting a shower, let yourself in when you get here.

I smirked at the text message just before sending it to Darren. It was just a little white lie. In reality, I’d been home for hours, but I had a surprise for him and wanted him to be waiting for me when I came out.

I fussed with my hair. Scrutinized my outfit from every angle in the bathroom mirror. Ignored the questions and insecurities that threatened to surface.

The front door opened, closed. Boot heels clicked on the kitchen linoleum.

No backing out now. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath—well, as deep of a breath as I could at that moment—and headed out to greet him.

His back was turned as he helped himself to a cup of coffee. Over his shoulder, he said, “So did those slave drivers keep you an extra hour, or was it the traffic?”

“I just had a few things I needed to take care of.” I put my hand on my hip and leaned against the wall. Leather squeaked and Darren stiffened.

His brow was furrowed as he turned around. Then his jaw went slack and his eyes widened. He very nearly dropped his coffee cup.

“What’s wrong?” I said with a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

He swallowed hard and set his coffee cup down, almost missing the edge of the counter.

I swiveled my hips suggestively, the patent leather corset creaking. It was the same one he’d encouraged me to try on a lifetime ago at Undertones, and I’d complemented it with a black garter, fishnet stockings, and black patent leather high heels. Nothing else.

“Holy…” He swallowed. Exhaled. Blinked. Took a breath. “Good God, that’s…”

Our eyes met then, and my heart thundered in my chest. There was a hunger in his eyes, a fierce desire like nothing I’d ever seen in him before. His expression was one of pure, primal lust; more than ever, he reminded me of his brother.

I ran my tongue across my lips and Darren’s breath caught again. He swallowed, then strode across the room towards me.

His passionate kiss pulled the breath right out of my lungs. He backed me against the wall, his fingers digging into my sides as his cock pressed into my hip. “You look fucking amazing,” he growled against my lips.

“I thought you’d like it,” I said.

“I love it.” He ran his hands up and down the sides of the corset. “I fucking love it.”

Kissing him, I reached between us and unbuckled his belt. He exhaled against my lips as I unzipped his jeans and slid my hand into his jeans, wrapping my fingers around his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed.

Nudging him back, I dropped to my knees. As I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, he released a low growl that sent a tingle right down my spine. I traced my tongue over every ridge and contour of his cock. I deep-throated him, my jaw aching as I strained to accommodate him.

His weight shifted and I glanced up. He had braced himself against the wall with one hand, his eyes closed and his lips parted.

I ran my hand up the back of his leg, pausing on his trembling knee. He moaned softly. I loved what I was doing to him, and I sucked him harder, faster, the leather corset creaking each time I moved.

“Oh God,” he breathed. “Oh fuck…” Then, “Wait, stop.”

I did, giving him a puzzled look. He gestured for me to stand. As I did, I started to ask him what was wrong, but he

silenced me with a kiss and slammed me into the wall again.

“Maybe we should move this into the bedroom,” I said against his mouth.

“Forget the bedroom,” he said, his voice hoarse and strained. “I’m going to fuck you right here.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket and stared at my corseted breasts as he tore the packet open with his teeth. “I need to fuck you now.”

He made quick work of getting the condom on. As soon as it was in place, he put me up against the wall and pulled my legs around his waist. A heartbeat later, his cock was inside me. His fingers dug into my hips and the corset bit into my back as he slammed me against the wall, but I didn’t care. I put my arms around his neck and dug my heels into the small of his back, driving him deeper.

“Oh fuck,” he said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “Oh my fucking God…you’re going to…fuck…” He thrust deep inside me and shuddered, leaning into me as he struggled to hold us both up on his trembling legs. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips parted as he took short, shallow gasps of breath.

He released one of my legs, then the other, easing me down until my feet touched the floor. Then he braced himself against the wall, his other hand snaking around my waist. As he fingered the edge of the corset, he opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Jesus Christ…” He paused, then held up a trembling hand. “Look what you’re doing to me.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. He smiled and kissed me gently, then stepped away, wavering slightly as if he wasn’t quite sure his legs would hold him up.

After he’d gotten rid of the condom, he came back and pulled me into his arms again, leaning me up against the wall where he’d just fucked me. He looked at the corset, exhaling sharply. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous in that thing.”

I put my arms around him. “If I’d known it would have that effect on you, I’d have bought it ages ago.”

He grinned and kissed me. “It’s not the corset.” He looked at the corset, then back at me. “It’s you in the corset.” I laughed and rolled my eyes, but he ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me gently. “I’m serious. I’ve always loved a woman in a corset, but you…” His hands ran down the sides of the corset and his gaze followed. He wetted his lips as he shook his head. “You have the perfect body for it.”

“Why thank you,” I said with a smirk.

“You do.” He kissed me gently. “You have the perfect body for a lot of things.”

I grinned. “Such as?”

His hand drifted down the corset and between my thighs. “Anything that doesn’t involve clothing.” He kissed my neck. “With the notable exception of corsets and fishnets.” I released a breath as his fingers slipped into my pussy. Against my neck, he whispered, “Your body was made for fucking, Marisa.”

A shiver ran up my spine and I moaned softly. Gripping his shoulders for balance, I hooked one leg around his, giving him better access to my pussy. He pushed his fingers just a little farther in, and his palm met my clit in the same instant that his fingertips found my G-spot.

“If I had to choose my favorite way to fuck you,” he whispered as his palm made slow, delicious circles on my clit. “I don’t know if I could pick just one.”

His fingertips alternated between gentle and firm pressure on my G-spot. I whimpered softly. He kissed my neck again and said, “I love it when you’re on top of me.” He sounded breathless. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re riding my cock with your head thrown back like that.” Pausing, he exhaled sharply against my neck and kissed my shoulder. “And when you’re on your knees and I can watch myself fucking you…”

My legs were shaking then as the beginnings of an orgasm thrummed within me. I pushed against his hand, rocking my hips.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled.

“I love it,” I said, stunned that I could even string three words together. He pressed a little harder and a violent tremor went through me. I gasped and the leg that wasn’t wrapped around his waist buckled. He caught me with his free arm.

He held me steady. “Why don’t we take this to the

bedroom?” I nodded and he put his arm around my waist to keep me upright as he guided me into the bedroom. “Now then,” he said as he lowered me onto the bed and laid down beside me. “Where was I?” His fingers slipped into my pussy again. “Ah, there…”

“Oh my God,” I said, closing my eyes as he masterfully brought me closer to climaxing.

“I love the way you look when you’re this close,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “The way you tighten around my fingers when… Oh fuck, yes, just like that.” His hand moved faster. “Come, baby,” he whispered. “And then I’m going to fuck you again. I’m going to fuck you every way, on your knees, on your back, on—”

I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as his touch sent me moaning, screaming, writhing, shaking into a powerful climax. I heard his voice, heard him whispering to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. All I knew was the delirious pleasure he unleashed within me.

When I came down from it, he withdrew his fingers and held me, kissing me while my body shook from the aftershocks. After a moment, he looked down at the corset. “You know, I love that thing,” he said, running his fingers over its smooth surface. “But I want to see you.” Propping himself up, he took the zipper-pull in his teeth and slowly drew it downward. The more he loosened the corset, the less I could breathe. Though my lungs were no longer constricted, the sight of Darren pulling the zipper down with his teeth took my breath away.

When it was unzipped, he pushed one side of the corset aside and cupped my breast gently. He exhaled against my skin, raising gooseflesh all over me. He watched his own thumb circling my nipple. “I hope you don’t have any plans tomorrow.”

I smiled. “Why?”

His eyes met mine, the intensity in his gaze making my breath catch. “Because there isn’t going to be any sleeping in this bed anytime soon.”

I bit my lip and shivered. I’d been with him enough times to know just how much truth there was in that statement.

He closed his lips around my nipple. Then, he reached

for the nightstand, but I stopped him. He cocked his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I breathed. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

His eyebrows jumped. I pulled him in for a kiss. Then I nudged him with my shoulder and my hip, silently asking him to roll onto his back. As he did, I sat up and turned onto my knees. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to ask what I had in mind or make a smartass comment, but all that came out was a throaty groan as I took his cock into my mouth. I stroked him and sucked him, taking him as far into my mouth as I could, squeezing him with my hands, releasing him, running my tongue around the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. His fingers ran through my hair, tightening and releasing against my scalp in time with what my own hand did on his cock. “Oh God, let me fuck you.”

I could have made him beg for it, but I wanted it as bad as he did. As soon as I lifted my head off of his cock, he reached for the nightstand and grabbed a condom, tearing it open quickly. He exhaled through his teeth as he tried to put the condom on with shaking hands.

“Let me,” I said with a grin. He smiled and handed it to me.

I held his cock with one hand and started to put the condom on with the other. Then, I dipped my head and put my lips around the head of his cock.

“Oh…fuck…” he gasped as I rolled the condom into place with my tongue.

As soon as the condom was on, he grabbed me and threw me onto my back, thrusting into my pussy so hard that we both gasped He kissed me, he fucked me, he made me forget that anything existed beyond our bodies.

Then he slowed his pace, taking long, deep strokes. He pushed himself up and looked down, watching himself fuck me. His hips moved smoothly, fluidly, his abs quivering with the exertion required to control such a slow, deliberate motion.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “Look. Just look at that.” He released a soft groan as he withdrew slowly, then thrust

hard, then withdrew slowly again. “I could watch that all

fucking night.”

“As long as you keep doing it like that,” I moaned. “You can watch it all you want.”

He grinned and kissed me. “Careful what you wish for, baby. You might never sleep again.”

“Bring it on.”

Forty Two

It was half past three when Trudy brought in her usual stack of manila folders. She slammed them on my desk as she always did, and I looked up just in time to catch her sneer.

“Five o’clock?” she said with a smirk.

I gritted my teeth. “This late in the day, don’t count on it.”

She blinked and her lips parted just slightly in surprise. “But I need them tomorrow morning.”

The old Marisa had never gotten smart with Trudy, but that Marisa had long since given her two weeks’ notice and gotten the hell out. I looked at her and said, “I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to bypass the laws of physics and get them done while finishing all of this other crap that’s been on my desk for hours.”

Her pencil-thin eyebrows jumped and her lips tightened into a thin scowl. She recovered from her surprise and came back with, “Well, find a way. I need them tomorrow morning.”

Five years. Five years of this bullshit. I was done. I wasn’t a passive office chameleon anymore. I’d gotten over my inhibitions, gotten a man who was supposed to be out of my league into my bed, and decided to stop blending into the woodwork. After all of that, just what was I doing letting this bitch push me around?

Trudy started to go, but my voice stopped her. “I have a better idea.” I swallowed every last shred of passiveness and forced myself not to back down.

She stopped and looked at me. “What?”

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out the report that I used to reconcile hers. I slammed it on top of the folders she’d handed me, picked up the whole stack, and shoved it towards her. “Why don’t you skip your afternoon liaison with the Millers, go back to your own desk, and do the damned thing yourself?”

I was angry, but still had a hell of a time suppressing a snicker at the dumbfounded look on her face. It was even more difficult when I realized that several nearby conversations had fallen silent.

Trudy recovered from her surprise and stammered, “It’s… it’s your job.”

“You’re right,” I said, not withdrawing the folders. “It is. And it’s your job to get me the information I need early enough in the day for me to actually have a fighting chance of finishing it.” I nodded at the other stack of papers on my desk. “That’s all getting done before any of this is. If you want it done for tomorrow, I would suggest you get on it.”

I could almost hear necks craning towards us in the surrounding cubicles. A chair creaked and I bit my tongue to stifle my amusement. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t believe this utter twat had ever intimidated me or pushed me around.

Trudy rolled her eyes and huffed, then reached out and snatched the stack of folders. She stormed out of my cubicle. For a moment, the only sound was her furious stomping fading as she disappeared down the hall. Then a snicker pierced the silence from another cube. And another. Finally, when I was sure that Trudy was well out of earshot, I let myself laugh. Under my breath, I chuckled, “Bitch.”

Forty Three

On Sunday afternoon, I found myself between Darren and Eric at a baseball game again.

By the third inning, I was sorely tempted to take one—or both—of them out to the parking garage and release some tension. They were both pros at teasing, and that day was no exception, especially since neither of them was probably aware of what the other was doing.

While Eric was off getting more beer, Darren took my breath away with a spine-melting kiss. When our team hit a grand slam, and we all came out of our seats to cheer, one of the brothers ran fingertips up my back. At one point, movement caught my eye and I glanced down to see Eric’s finger trailing along the edge of my seat, not quite touching my thigh, but so close I could almost feel it.

Mercifully, in the fourth inning, they found something else to steal their attention for a few minutes.

“Hey, Darren,” Eric said. Darren and I both turned to him. He nodded down the bleachers, towards a leggy brunette selling pretzels. “New pretzel girl.”

“And a hot one at that,” Darren said.

“I’ve got a twenty that says she knocks you back,” Eric said.

“Me?” Darren glanced at him. “What’s wrong, Eric? Too afraid of another ‘pretzels of shame’ incident?” I snorted with laughter.

“No, I just want to see if you have it in you,” Eric said. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and fished out a twenty. “Come on, Darren. You can do it, can’t you?”

Darren rolled his eyes. Then he pulled a twenty out of his own wallet and they both handed the money to me. “Watch and learn, little bro.” He started down the stands towards the unsuspecting pretzel girl.

Eric leaned back in his seat. Without looking at me or saying a thing, he slid his hand over my thigh. I sucked in a breath. He gave my leg a gentle squeeze, then casually brought his hand back into his own lap.

“Tease,” I said.

“Well, I could have done it when Darren was still sitting there.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” I laughed. And if you both keep it up, there is going to be a grave act of public indecency right here in the stands. I shifted in my seat. It was bad enough being with one of them, but their combined presence was going to make me lose my mind.

Eric sat up. “Oh look, there he goes.” He dropped his voice. “Here comes the pitch. She’s smiling. She’s flirting. She’s—” We both watched as the girl leaned over to hand someone a pretzel, all the while talking and flirting with Darren. “Is that—”

“A tattoo,” I said, craning my neck to get a better look at the hint of multi-colored ink on her lower back.

“A tramp stamp,” Eric said. He shook his head. “Damn it, I should’ve gone after her myself.”

“Well, you two do have similar taste in women, it seems,” I said, flashing him a grin.

He let out a breath. “You’ve got that right.” His finger trailed down the side of my thigh, raising goose bumps. He laughed softly. “I think this is the first time we’ve had the same girl at the same time, though.”

The same girl at the same time. Jesus, Eric, what I wouldn’t give for that…

“Oh, oh, look,” Eric said.

Darren was on his way back up, shaking his head, pretzels in his hand.

“Now who’s got the pretzels of shame?” I said, handing Eric the money as Darren took his place beside me.

“What did she say?” Eric asked. “Engaged? Married? Attached?”

Darren shook his head. “Nope, she’s single, she just

said she doesn’t date guys she meets on the job.”

“She’s single,” Eric said, almost falling as he put his hands on the empty seat in front of him, swung his legs over it, and headed down the stands.

I laughed as I watched Eric bound down the steps.

Darren rolled his eyes. “I will seriously kill him if he gets her number.”

“He has to try his luck,” I said with a shrug. “He saw part of her tattoo. I think he wants to see the rest of it.”

Darren looked at me, his jaw slack. “She has a tattoo?”

“Yeah. Tramp stamp. Her shirt pulled up when she leaned over.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said, rolling his eyes again. “First she knocks me back, then she’s got ink that I didn’t even get to see.”

“And she’s giving your brother her number.”

“What? No way.”

I nodded down to where Eric was standing with the pretzel girl. His phone was out, and he was entering something into it.

“That son of a bitch,” Darren said, sitting up. “No fucking way.”

Eric came back, taking the steps two at a time and grinning like a little boy on Christmas. I could barely contain my laughter as I said, “You got her number, didn’t you?”

“Damn right,” he said. He looked at Darren and, with a half-assed attempt at a straight face, said, “She thought you were a nice guy, but said I’m more her type.”

“Jackass.”

“Shut up and eat your pretzels of shame.” Eric ducked just in time to avoid getting hit in the head with a piece of a pretzel. He laughed and took his seat beside me.

As the game went on, so too did our friendly banter. And, unbeknownst to either brother, gears were turning in my mind.

Forty Four

My heart pounded as I pulled into the parking garage next to Ambrose’s. Eric’s car was there, so I knew he was working. I just hoped he had time to talk. I wanted to get this over with before I lost my nerve.

The hostess held open the door as I walked in. “Welcome to Ambrose’s, how many tonight?”

“I’m actually just stopping in to talk to someone,” I said with a smile. “I assume Eric’s working tonight?”

She nodded towards the lounge. “He might be headed out on break, but you should be able to catch him.” I thanked her and walked through the dining area.

As I rounded the corner, Eric was in the middle of making a drink. He had two bottles overturned in each hand, holding the necks between his fingers. He always was talented with his hands, I thought with a shiver. He flipped the bottles over, dropped a straw into the glass and handed it to the patron. As he did, he glanced my direction and a surprised expression flickered across his face. He gave me a quick “I’ll be right there” gesture and I nodded.

I slid into the empty seat at the far end of the bar and watched him finish with a few drinks. I always loved the way he looked at work, with his pressed button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. Casual, but professional. And sexy as hell.

After he’d finished with the other patrons, he leaned on his elbow on the bar in front of me. “So what’ll it be?” he said with a grin.

I forced a smile. “Do you have a break coming up?”

He cocked his head, his smile falling a little. “I was about to take one, yeah. Why?”

I swallowed. “I need—I wanted to talk to you.”

His eyebrows jumped. “I…okay.” He paused. “About?”

“Is there somewhere else we can go?”

His face blanched. “Marisa…” The note of panic in his voice puzzled me for a heartbeat, then I realized what he was thinking.

I laughed. “I’m not pregnant.”

He let out a breath. “Don’t fucking do that to me,” he said, chuckling. “You scared about five years off of my life.” He leaned across the bar and kissed me lightly. “Let me tell the boss I’m taking a break. We can go out back; I need a smoke anyway.”

Once he’d managed to get away from the bar, he led me out through the kitchen to the back alley where the employees took their smoke breaks. As soon as the door closed, he slid his arms around my waist.

“Now that we’re alone, can I at least have a proper kiss?”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. As he kissed me, his shoulders seemed to relax a little. I wondered if he was kissing me to get a feel for why we were out here. If I was here to tell him off, he’d likely be able to get some hint from my kiss. But it was nothing like that. I was nervous, but I wasn’t hostile, or angry, or anything of the sort.

He let me go and pulled his smokes out of his pocket. “So what’s up?”

I hugged myself against the cool evening air as well as my nervousness. No sense beating around the bush, I figured. Might as well get straight to the point. I forced myself to look him in the eye. “I think we should tell Darren.”

His eyebrows jumped, as did the unlit cigarette between his lips. “Why?”

I swallowed. “I just, I feel weird lying to him about this.”

Eric lit the cigarette and took a drag. “You two aren’t exclusive. He knows you’re sleeping with other guys.” He paused, tilting his head so that when he blew out a cloud of smoke, it didn’t blow into my face. “Why would he need to know?”

I shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t. But it bothers me to keep it from him. It’s one thing to sleep with other men. It’s another to sleep with his brother.”

He looked at the ground as he took another drag. “I don’t think it’ll bother him. Really.”

“I know,” I said. “Which is why I’d rather tell him. Clear the air. Be honest. Then if he—if either of you—isn’t comfortable with it anymore, then we can deal with it. But this arrangement…” I shook my head. “I don’t want to stop with either of you, but it’s been bugging me.”

Eric was quiet for a moment, taking a long drag and releasing the thin wisp of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I guess it’s only a matter of time before he finds out one way or the other.”

“Exactly. And I’d rather not blindside him with it.”

He paused, then nodded. “All right.”

I swallowed. “I’d like to talk to both of you. At the same time.”

“Do you really need me to be there?”

“Maybe not.” But I have my reasons. “But I’d like you to be. If we can all talk about it, then there won’t be any room for miscommunications or anything like that.”

He dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his heel. I tried not to watch the way his hip twisted when he did it, tried to stay focused instead of being distracted by Goddamn it Eric, you don’t know how sexy you are…

I cleared my throat and dropped my gaze. “Anyway, that’s really all I came to talk about.”

He nodded and slid his hands over my hips, kissing me gently. “Well, as long as you’re here,” he gave me a devilish wink.

I put my arms around his neck. “How long is your break?”

His jaw dropped. “I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

He swallowed. “But…”

“Does anyone else take their break out here?”

“Um, no, not tonight, the only other smoker on tonight is—”

“Good.” I slid my hand between us and squeezed him, laughing at his startled gasp.

“Jesus, Marisa,” he laughed, barely whispering. “I thought you just came here to talk.”

“I did. And we did. So now…” I rubbed his rapidly hardening cock through his slacks. “Unless you wanted to talk about anything else?”

“I, uh, no.” His teeth snapped together as I unzipped his fly. When my fingers closed around his cock, he almost choked on his own breath.

I didn’t wait for him to respond or protest. I dropped to my knees and took his entire cock into my mouth.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned. His weight shifted. I glanced up and saw that he had rested one arm against the wall, bracing himself. His other hand ran through my hair. “Jesus, Marisa,” he whispered. He rocked his hips back and forth, as if trying to get his cock just a little farther into my mouth. My hand joined my mouth, stroking him as I licked and sucked him.

His cock twitched, stiffened. I squeezed him with my fingers and moved faster with my mouth, loving the long, helpless moan that rewarded my efforts. I went faster still, giving him everything I had as his moan disintegrated into a throaty growl.

“Fuck…oh my God…” His fingers trembled against my scalp. “You’re going to make me come, baby. Oh fuck…oh…fuck!” His entire body tensed, and a second later, he came.

When he finally begged me to stop, I rose, wiping the corner of my mouth as he straightened his clothes. I smiled at him. “I’m glad we had this talk.”

He laughed, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “I may have to have another cigarette before I get back to work.” He glanced at his watch. “I still have time. But first…” He kissed me, letting his tongue explore my mouth, tasting himself on my tongue. When he broke the kiss, he said, “Christ, that was hot.”

“It was,” I said. “I love places like this where we’re risking getting caught.”

He laughed as he pulled a cigarette out. “Nah, we weren’t going to get caught out here. Not—”

Just then, the door opened and four of the bus boys filed out, carrying trash bags out to the dumpster. Eric watched them in horror, his cigarette nearly falling out of his mouth. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought his face turned the same shade of panicked white as it had when he thought I was going to tell him I was pregnant.

“Like I said,” I suppressed a laugh. “Almost getting caught adds to the thrill.”

“Says the woman who wouldn’t have gotten fired if we’d gotten caught.” He laughed and shook his head as he lit his cigarette. He took a drag as he watched the bus boys head back inside. Then he grinned at me as he exhaled the smoke. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t decide to fuck you.”

“You thought about it, didn’t you?”

He kissed me lightly. “I was about three seconds away from putting you up against that wall and giving you the fuck of your life.”

I shivered. “You’ll just have to do that next time, won’t you?”

He exhaled another stream of smoke and grinned. “Count on it, baby.”

Forty Five

I chewed my thumbnail nervously as I waited for Eric and Darren to show up.

Someone knocked. Chewing my lip, I whispered a prayer that I wouldn’t lose my nerve. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hey sexy,” Darren said, kissing me gently.

“Hey.” I let him in and we moved into the kitchen.

“Eric said he’s running a bit late.”

My heart raced. Fuck. Just get here and let’s get this over with. I handed Darren a cup of coffee as he took his usual seat across the counter from me. It seemed a bit surreal to be here again, sitting with the counter between us and drinking coffee like we always did before we’d gone from friends to friends with benefits. Ever since that first night together, we had done all of our talking in my bed.

“Marisa?”

My head snapped up and I met his eyes. I had no idea how long I’d been lost in my own thoughts. I shook my head. “Sorry.”

He set his mug down. “What’s wrong?”

I pursed my lips. I wanted to wait until Eric got there, but didn’t know how long I could just make small talk with someone who knew me far too well not to notice that my mind was elsewhere before I just blurted it out.

“Marisa? Jesus, babe, you’re a million miles away today. Are you okay?”

I nodded. Set my coffee down. Rubbed my eyes. “Look, I was going to wait until Eric got here…” I trailed off, chewing the inside of my cheek as I chanced a look at him.

He looked confused. Inquisitive. “Okay…”

I took a deep breath. “I just wanted to clear the air with both of you.”

His eyebrows scrunched with confusion. “About?”

Out with it, Marisa. Just get it out. Swallowing hard, I looked him in the eye, refusing to drop my gaze. “About the fact that he and I have been sleeping together.”

Darren’s lips parted. His eyes widened. “You…what?”

I looked into my coffee cup. “We’ve been…for a while…”

He sat back in his chair, exhaling.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” I said. “We thought about telling you in the beginning, but…”

He tapped his thumb against the side of his coffee cup. His expression was distant, unreadable. He pursed his lips for a second, furrowed his brow for another. The silence lingered for an uncomfortably long time.

“Darren?”

Wetting his lips, he looked at me, opening his mouth to speak, but a knock at the door turned both of our heads.

“That would be Eric,” I said, my mouth dry. Towards the door, I called out, “It’s open.”

Eric came in and as soon as he saw his brother, he stiffened. I’m sure, in their silent way of communicating, that Darren let Eric know, loud and clear, that he knew. He closed the door behind him and came into the kitchen. A tense look passed between the brothers before Eric took a seat beside Darren.

Darren looked at me, folding his hands in front of him on the counter. “Well, I can’t say I had any clue.”

Eric tapped his fingers on the counter. “We just didn’t want you to find out, you know, get blindsided by it.”

Darren nodded. “What can I say? It’s not like I own either of you.” I couldn’t tell if his voice was tinged with anger or just surprise. He was usually so easy to read, but not tonight.

“So,” I said, trying to feel him out. “Are you…okay with this?”

He was silent again for a long time, looking into his coffee cup. I exchanged a brief look with Eric, who looked about as unnerved as I felt.

The silence went on.

Then Darren tensed, his spine stiffening as if someone had shocked him. His head snapped up and he looked at me. “He’s Casanova, isn’t he?”

My jaw fell open. “How…how did you know?”

“Casanova?” Eric said, eyeing me.

My cheeks burned. “I never told him the names of any of the guys I was with. Since you were a, um, recurring feature, you ended up with a nickname.” The penny dropped. That’s how Darren knew, I said I’d been sleeping with Eric. That it had happened more than once. He made the connection that “Casanova” was the only one who ever made more than one appearance.

The taut silence was almost unbearable as I waited for Darren to do something. Say something. Respond, damn it!

A laugh tugged at the corner of Darren’s mouth, cracking the tension in the room. He looked at Eric. “You. It was you.”

Eric looked at him, then at me, then back at Darren. “I hope I was getting positive reviews.”

Darren laughed, which instantly relieved the nervous tension in my shoulders. He shook his head and clapped his brother on the arm. “I think you were one of the only ones that did get positive reviews.” When he looked back at me, his expression was serious, but not angry. “I’ll admit, I was not expecting this. Not at all. But, I’m glad you told me.”

I exhaled. “I didn’t think you’d be upset, but I felt weird lying to you about it.”

“Fair enough,” Darren paused. “Okay, I just have to ask, how the hell did things get started with you two, and I didn’t even know about it?”

Eric cleared his throat. “Well, um…” He looked at me and we both laughed. “One of those nights when she stayed over…”

“After you’d gone to work,” I added.

Darren stared at both of us incredulously, then rolled his eyes and laughed. “I knew I never should have left the two of you unsupervised.”

“What can I say, bro?” Eric said with a shrug. “You have good taste in women.”

“Likewise,” Darren said. They bumped fists and

laughed.

I rolled my eyes. “So, we’re all cool with this, then?”

“I’ve been cool with it since day one,” Eric said.

Darren sipped his coffee. “Yeah, I’m fine with it. Caught me a bit off guard, but, it’s cool.”

I cleared my throat. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, there’s one more thing. Which is why I asked you both to come tonight.”

They both watched me silently. Eric’s eyebrows lifted. Darren chewed his thumbnail.

I took a breath. “Darren, we started this whole thing because you wanted to get me out of my shell, to help me learn to ask for what I wanted. Right?”

He nodded. “Right.”

“And what I want,” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to ignore the way my heart pounded. Was I really going there? Was I really doing this? “Is both of you.”

“You’ve had both of us,” Eric said. He glanced at Darren, then back at me, and shrugged. “I don’t have any objection to keeping that going.”

“Neither do I,” Darren said.

“No, I mean I want both of you.” I wetted my lips nervously. “At the same time.”

They both stiffened, their eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“You—” Darren blinked. “A threesome?”

I nodded. The old Marisa wanted to apologize for bringing it up, to assure them both that it was just a question, that if they weren’t into it, I’d understand, but I bit my tongue. If they didn’t agree to it, then that was that, but I wouldn’t apologize for wanting it.

It was out. I wasn’t taking it back.

From here, it was up to them.

Forty Six

For a long moment, they were silent, not looking at each other or at me. Finally, Darren swallowed hard and chanced a look at Eric. A second later, Eric looked at him. A subtle shrug from Darren. A half-nod from Eric.

Then they both turned to me.

“I’m game,” Eric said.

“So am I,” Darren said.

I grinned at both of them, hoping neither could tell how badly my knees were shaking. As much as I wanted this, it scared the hell out of me. Swallowing my doubts and fear, I said, “I’ve got plenty of condoms in the bedroom.”

Eric rose. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“After you,” Darren said to me, gesturing towards the bedroom.

I winked at Darren. “You won’t mind wearing—”

“No gimp mask.”

Eric laughed. “She made you wear a gimp mask?”

“Fuck no. And I’m not going to start tonight. Why, did she make you wear one?”

Eric snorted. “Yeah right.”

“All right, all right, no gimp masks.” I nodded down the hall.

Behind me as we headed out of the kitchen, Eric said to Darren, “Twenty bucks says I get her off more times than you.”

Darren laughed. “Twenty? Pussy.”

“Cocky bastard. Make it a hundred.”

“You’re on.”

As I pushed the bedroom door open, I turned around and said, “You boys aren’t turning this into a competition, are you?”

Darren grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. “Everything’s a competition, babe,” he said. “And I think you’ll be the winner in the end of this one.” With that, he kissed me, his tongue gently parting my lips.

Eric stepped behind me and pulled my hair aside. He kissed the back of my neck, raising gooseflesh all over my body.

Darren’s hands slid under my shirt, and both brothers broke contact with me just long enough to get my shirt over my head and out of the way. Then Darren kissed one side of my neck while Eric kissed the other. My knees turned to water as Darren’s lips lingered at the base of my neck and Eric planted a sizzling kiss just behind my ear. I couldn’t think of anything in the world that could possibly be more arousing then two men kissing my neck at the same time.

I reached for the front of Darren’s jeans, and my other hand snaked around my back to Eric’s. They were both hard and ready to go, and I couldn’t help but wet my lips at the thought of having both of their cocks. It was one thing to fuck Eric or Darren, it was another thing entirely to have both of the most incredible fucks I’d ever experienced at the same time. Even with both of them kissing my neck and both of their rock hard cocks in my hands, I couldn’t believe this was real.

Eric’s fingers trailed up the bare skin of my back and stopped at my bra. With a quick motion of his hand, my bra went slack around my shoulders, and Darren slid the straps down my arms. My bra fell forgotten to the floor and Darren’s hands closed over my breasts while Eric’s lips brushed across the back of my neck.

I stroked both of their cocks through their jeans, loving the simultaneous releases of breath against either side of my neck.

Darren held my waist as he bent to take my nipple into his mouth. Eric put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me towards him, kissing just behind my ear and pressing his cock against my ass. I couldn’t tell who was turning me on more, who I wanted to fuck first, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my life.

“I think,” Eric said, his lips brushing my ear. “That there is way too much clothing in this room right now.”

“And there’s a bed that needs a naked, horny woman on it,” Darren said.

“Seems like an easy situation to fix,” Eric said. He released me and a second later, his belt jingled behind me. Darren pulled his shirt off. We all stripped off the last of our clothing before they led me to the bed.

Darren lay beside me and closed his lips around one nipple while Eric did the same on the other side. They both worked their magic in different ways. Darren gently circled my erect nipple with his tongue while Eric rolled the other between his teeth.

My breath caught in my throat as one of them touched my clit. I couldn’t tell whose hand it was, even as he slid his fingers inside me. It was a surreal feeling, something I’d never before experienced, not knowing exactly who was touching my pussy, and being completely turned on by it.

He pressed his palm against my clit and his fingertip against my G-spot. A second later, he crossed his fingers inside me, and I knew then that it was Eric, but it didn’t matter. All I really cared about was the incredible sensations he brought out of me with his fingers and the things both brothers were doing to my breasts with their mouths. It occurred to me that we were just getting started, that this was likely the tip of the iceberg of what they were going to do to me. At this rate, they were going to need a fire extinguisher before long.

All at once, Eric’s hand left my pussy and both brothers released my nipples. I gasped as warm lips closed around my clit, and a second later, a smoke-flavored tongue parted my lips in a ravenous kiss. I moaned into Eric’s mouth as Darren’s tongue circled my clit and his fingers slid into my pussy. Grasping Eric’s shoulders for dear life, I couldn’t believe that it was possible to feel anything this fucking amazing and live to tell about it.

A shudder rippled through my body. Darren devoured my clit even faster and Eric’s mouth muffled a moan as another shudder, then another, shook me from head to toe.

Eric broke the kiss and whispered, “Come on, baby, scream.”

I took in a gasp of breath and cried out, but I didn’t hear myself. I didn’t know what I said, and I didn’t care. All I knew was the lightning bolts coursing through me as I came. I screamed and moaned and dug my fingers into Eric’s shoulders as my back arched off the bed.

Eric kissed me again, long and deep, as my orgasm subsided and the room slowly stopped spinning. After a moment, he turned to Darren and said, “That one doesn’t count.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” Darren laughed, kissing my inner thigh gently and withdrawing his fingers.

“It doesn’t,” Eric said. “I got her started.”

“And I licked her for the win, so fuck off, it counts.”

“Maybe we should ask Marisa.” Eric looked down at me, grinning. “Did it count?”

“If I say no,” I said breathlessly. “Will you guys do it again?”

They both laughed and Eric sat up. “I think it’s time to dig into the nightstand stash.” I bit my lip and shivered as the nightstand drawer opened, then closed.

Darren came up and kissed me, letting me taste my pussy in his mouth. Then he looked at Eric and held up his hand. “Share the wealth, bro.”

Eric tossed him a condom. “I hope you don’t think you’re fucking her first.”

“I’d like to see you try to stop me,” Darren said, laughing.

“Boys, boys, no fighting,” I said. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“No need to fight,” Eric said, nudging my legs apart with his knee. “I got the condom on first.” And before Darren could retort or I could think, Eric was inside me. He pulled my thighs up onto his hips and sat upright as he pounded me.

Darren set his own condom aside and I wrapped my fingers around his cock, stroking it slowly. I tried to keep some sort of steady rhythm, but every deep, powerful thrust of Eric’s cock distracted me. Darren moved closer to me and I guided him towards my mouth, closing my lips around him and circling the head of his cock with my tongue. He came

closer, giving me more access to his cock, and I took it.

As Eric fucked me harder, I fucked Darren faster with my mouth, stroking and sucking his rock hard cock as Eric drove his own deep inside me. In no time at all, I was close to coming again. I rocked my hips back, pulling Eric even deeper, and I moaned around Darren’s cock. He gasped. One of them groaned. Someone whispered “Jesus Christ”.

And I was over the edge again.

“God I want to fuck her,” Darren said as I came down from my orgasm. I opened my eyes in time to see a glance pass between the brothers.

Eric pulled out as Darren picked up the unopened condom. I was breathless from my dizzying orgasm and the anticipation of more as the brothers switched places on the bed.

Darren sat up just like Eric had, but he teased my pussy with the head of his cock, sliding in just a little, then pulling back, then going in just a little farther. I pushed my hips towards him, desperate to have him buried all the way inside me. He laughed softly and kept teasing me.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded.

“I don’t know,” he said, running his hands down my thighs and giving me just a little bit more of his cock. “Wouldn’t want to overdo your poor pussy just yet.”

“Fuck me now,” I said.

“You’d better fuck her before she hurts you,” Eric said with a laugh.

Darren chuckled. “Oh, I will, but she’s so much fun to tease.” He pulled out again.

Aggravated and aroused and just fucking impatient, I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me. He gave a grunt of surprise and lost his balance, falling forward before catching himself with his hands on either side of me.

“I said, ‘fuck me,’” I growled, laughing at the startled look on his face.

He quickly recovered from his surprise and smirked. “If that’s what you want,” he said, withdrawing as much as my legs would allow. “Then who am I to keep it from you?” And with that he slammed back inside me and fucked me.

“Oh my God, yes,” I murmured.

“Jesus, that’s fucking hot,” Eric said, his voice strained

slightly. I looked at him, and he was watching us, watching me, stroking his cock slowly, his eyes fixed on me as his brother pounded my pussy. He licked his parted lips. Without thinking about it, I did the same, and his breath caught. The muscles in his arm rippled as his hand moved faster.

Darren sat up, digging his fingers into my hips as he drove himself into me. Eric moved closer to me and I eagerly sucked and stroked his cock.

Darren continued to fuck me, harder and deeper, as I devoured Eric’s cock. I glanced up at Eric, watching his brow furrow and his eyes scrunch closed. He braced himself against the headboard with one hand. “Oh Jesus,” he groaned. He exhaled sharply. “Oh fuck, yes…”

I sucked his cock with renewed fervor, stroking him rapidly just like he’d done himself moments before. His body tensed and he roared, his cock twitching a second before the hot rush of salty-sweet liquid shot across my tongue. His orgasm—the sight, the sound, the taste—pushed me closer to yet another climax of my own, and I begged Darren to fuck me harder, faster.

Eric came down to me and kissed me, the saltiness in my mouth mingling with the vague hint of smoke on his tongue. My pussy tightened around Darren’s cock and I moaned softly, closing my eyes as he fucked me right into yet another incredible orgasm. I distantly heard him cry out, felt him shudder against me.

Everything went dark and silent for—a second? A minute? An eternity? I couldn’t tell how long it was. As I came back to Earth, Darren’s voice sounded a thousand miles away. “That’s two for me, one for you.”

“Bullshit. The first one didn’t count,” Eric said. “We’re tied at one.” His words slurred just a little and he sounded out of breath.

I licked my lips and opened my eyes. “I don’t get how either of you can still count.”

Darren scoffed. “Of course we can still count. Scores like this are serious business.”

“Yeah, there’s a hundred bucks at stake here, woman,” Eric said, leaning down and kissing me gently.

I closed my eyes, letting the room stop spinning. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll buy you both a beer.”

“Sweet,” Eric said. “A hundred bucks and a beer.”

“Enjoy the beer,” Darren said, my breath catching as he trailed his fingertips up my inner thigh. “You’ll be ponying up that hundred in fairly short order.”

“You’re both going to have to let me catch my breath before the game starts up again,” I said. “Or there’s not going to be anything left of me but a smoldering pile of ashes.”

Eric laid on his stomach beside me and trailed his fingers up my arm. “I could use a breather myself.” He kissed my shoulder. “But we are nowhere near done with you.”

“Hope you don’t have any plans tomorrow,” Darren said, laying on my other side. He picked up my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist.

“I may have to call in to work tomorrow myself,” Eric said. He kissed his way down my upper arm. “I doubt I’ll be able to stand after fucking you all night.”

“You guys are going to kill me,” I said.

“Nope, you can’t die,” Darren said, kissing his way up my forearm. “That’s against the rules.”

“Exactly,” Eric said, his lips pausing just above the inside of my elbow. “We have to have someone to decide who won our bet.”

I started to make a smartass retort, but instead gasped as they both, at the exact same time, found the insides of my elbows. Darren planted a long, gentle kiss while Eric made slow circles with the tip of his tongue. My entire body tensed and a shiver rippled through me.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. I had never considered my elbow to be an erogenous zone, but then again, no man had ever given it that kind of attention before.

Eric laughed softly, his hot breath and coarse stubble brushing my skin. He ran his fingertips down my forearm and drew another circle inside my elbow with the tip of his tongue.

Darren kissed my skin again, then drew a circle just like Eric did. My breath caught in my throat and my toes curled. The only way they could have aroused me anymore than they did just then would have been if—

A fingertip brushed over my clit.

“Oh…fuck…” I could barely breathe. Fingers slipped into my pussy. Tongues circled the insides of my elbows. A palm rested against my clit. “Fuck…”

Lips closed around my nipple, then Darren kissed my mouth, drawing my tongue into his mouth as his—or his brother’s, I couldn’t tell—fingers drew lazy, gentle circles around my clit.

Eric pressed his hips against me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already hard again. I shouldn’t have been surprised again when I realized that Darren was too.

I closed my fingers around Eric’s cock, then grinned against Darren’s mouth as they both exhaled sharply. I stroked both of them, squeezing gently, then releasing.

Darren broke the kiss and growled, “Get on your knees.”

I didn’t need him to tell me twice. They both sat back as I got up. I don’t know what Darren had in mind, but as soon as I laid eyes on his fully erect cock, I took over. Before he could suggest otherwise, I had his cock in my mouth. He didn’t protest, just groaned softly and ran his fingers through my hair.

Behind me, a foil packet tore. Seconds later, Eric’s hands were on my hips, and with a quick, hard thrust, he was inside me. I moaned as I licked Darren’s cock. Eric started out slow, taking long, deep strokes, and I mimicked his rhythm on Darren. As Eric picked up speed, so did I.

“Oh fuck, that’s—” Darren gasped as I deep-throated him. “Jesus…”

I thought he moaned, but the “Fuck yes” that followed it was that smoke-sharpened growl that only Eric could make. When he said, “Oh my God, that’s fucking awesome,” it was such a low, throaty sound that I almost felt it rather than heard it.

I rocked back and forth, meeting him thrust for thrust as I sucked and stroked Darren’s cock. I couldn’t tell whose breath caught, who moaned, and it thrilled me, having two men so turned on, not even being able to tell whose lusty, primal sounds were whose.

“Holy fuck, oh my…fuck…I don’t want to stop, but Goddamn, I want to fuck her.”

Eric slowed his rhythm. “I don’t think she’ll object.” He took a few final strokes before withdrawing, and I sat up, stroking Darren’s cock as I raised myself up enough to kiss him briefly.

“You guys are fucking incredible.” I turned towards Eric.

“Likewise,” Eric said, pulling me into a kiss and cupping my breast. I stroked his cock, grinning against his lips as he sucked in a sharp breath.

Darren grasped my hips and gently tugged me towards him. I moved back and dropped down onto my hands and knees again, taking Eric’s cock into my mouth in the same instant that Darren slammed into my pussy. Eric’s fingers tangled in my hair and he held my shoulder with his other hand, as if he was trying to keep his balance.

Behind me, Darren shifted his weight, letting one hand snake around my hip bones while his other supported him on the bed. His thrusts came from the hips now, not withdrawing quite as far but still pounding me hard and fast. The hand on my hip slid farther around and I moaned around Eric’s cock as Darren’s fingers found my clit. His fingers circled my clit at almost the exact same speed that he fucked me.

“So help me God, Darren, if you make her come again…” Eric said with a laugh.

“Not my fault if I have the magic touch,” Darren laughed, his breath brushing against my back and sending a shiver through me. And, as if just out of spite, he fucked me a little harder, worked my clit just a little faster, and I was over the edge.

“All right, it’s war,” Eric said. As soon as I came down from my sixth, eighth or was it my thousandth orgasm of the night, he brought me up to kiss him. Then, he didn’t just lower me to the bed, he threw me onto my back. I whimpered softly as he parted my legs and dipped his head between my thighs. By now, I expected my clit to be hypersensitive, but his touch was soft and gentle, just enough to stimulate but not overstimulate.

Darren laid down beside me and kissed me, running his fingers through my hair.

I’m certain they didn’t know it—they couldn’t have,

short of some sort of brotherly psychic connection—but Darren’s tongue moved against mine in precisely the same way Eric’s moved against my clit: Circling gently, then the other direction, then sliding into my pussy, or farther into my mouth, a few times before going back to the slow, lazy circles.

By the time Eric slipped his fingers into me, I was well on my way to yet another climax. One brush of his fingertips on my G-spot, and I was gone.

Even as I came down from my orgasm, Eric didn’t stop. He backed off, his tongue making only the softest, slowest, gentlest contact with my clit, his fingers still pressing against my G-spot, but he didn’t stop. Darren kissed me in exactly the same manner, just barely letting his tongue slip between my lips. The contact was just enough to keep the aftershocks of my orgasm thrumming through me, but not over stimulate.

Eric’s tongue moved a little faster. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly against my G-spot. Darren’s kiss deepened. The room spun and that familiar white light crept into my vision.

I broke the kiss with Darren just long enough to moan, “Oh…fuck…” And oblivion took over once again.

As it tapered off this time, I begged Eric to stop, afraid there would be nothing left of my clit if he kept going.

“That was one,” Darren said.

Eric kissed my inner thigh just before he pushed himself up. “That was two.”

“One of you…” I trailed off, trying to get my thoughts in order, trying to enunciate with a tongue that was sticking to the roof of my mouth. I closed my eyes and wetted my lips.

“Yes?” Darren—maybe Eric, hell, I couldn’t tell—said.

I tried again. “One of you…I don’t care which…” I licked my lips again. “Get a condom on. Now.”

They both started for the nightstand, but I stopped Darren. He looked down at me, ready to ask what was wrong, but the only thing that came out was a sharp breath as I wrapped my hand around his cock. He ran his fingers through my hair and groaned softly as I took him into my mouth.

Eric’s hands slid around my hips and a second later, he was inside me. I rocked back and forth in time with his thrusts, fucking both men, one with my mouth, one with my pussy, letting myself get completely lost in the most incredible sex I’d ever imagined. All along, they’d both fucked me like they knew my body better than they knew their own, and having them together was so deliriously perfect, I wouldn’t have cared if the world had ended right then and there.

“Oh God,” Eric’s throaty growl brought me back into reality. His fingers dug into my hips. “Oh…fuck…” I rocked against him, harder and faster, and was rewarded with a deep, satisfying roar as he pulled me against him and came. I couldn’t move my hips away from his grasp, so I squeezed him with my pussy as his cock pulsed inside me. He moaned, struggling to breathe, making almost the same sound he’d said he so loved to hear me make, as if he wanted to cry out, but couldn’t.

After a moment, he released my hips and withdrew, releasing a ragged breath. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “I need a smoke after that.” He paused. Then, with a smirk in his voice, he said, “I assume you two don’t mind if I leave you alone for a few minutes?”

“Take your time,” Darren said.

Eric laughed, grabbed his jeans off of the floor, and stepped out. Darren pulled me up so that he could kiss me, sliding his hand between us and gently fingering me. “I hope your pussy isn’t worn out yet.”

“Not yet,” I said. “Just be gentle.”

“That I can do.” He kissed me and went for a condom. He quickly put it on and laid over me, kissing me. For a moment, we just kissed, holding each other, our mouths never breaking contact until he pushed into me. He moved slowly, his eyes locked on mine. He smiled. “You’re really a different woman than you were when we started this.”

I smiled back, running my fingertips gently over his shoulders and rolling my hips in time with his slow strokes. “Is that a good thing?”

“Absolutely.” He kissed me, barely moving inside me as we just held each other. After all of the wild, bed-breaking sex we’d had since he and Eric came into my bedroom, we were both more than content with a gentle, lazy pace for a change.

I whispered, “It really doesn’t bother you that Eric and I have been sleeping together?” I was amazed that just saying the words didn’t bother me at all.

He shook his head. “If it did, I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

“Good point,” I said. He laughed and kissed me, moving just a little more inside me, just enough to take my breath away.

“The Marisa I took to bed a few months ago never would have been ballsy enough to ask for any of this,” he said, moving slowly. “But I knew you had it in you.”

I moaned a little. “You did?”

He nodded, his breath catching. “I knew that once you came out of your shell, you’d be incredible and insatiable.”

“I owe you,” I said, kissing him and gasping as he took a deep, hard stroke. “Jesus Christ, Darren.”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” he said, his voice tightening as he moved faster. “I’ve been wanting this for years.”

Trying to focus on him, on his words, I blinked. “You, what?”

“I’ve wanted you since I met you.” He exhaled, groaning softly, struggling to keep eye contact. “And I knew that if I ever had you, it would be incredible.” He paused, his lips parting and his eyes closing. He was fucking me faster now, harder, his deep thrusts punctuating his speech. “And I was right. But I never imagined you’d— Oh fuck, Marisa, oh my God…”

“Tell me,” I said, struggling to focus on him, on his words, as his speed increased with every stroke. I knew he was having trouble speaking, and I loved it, I loved having that effect on him. I loved knowing that he’d wanted me all along, just as I’d wanted him. “Tell me, Darren.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. Dipping his head, he kissed my neck, releasing hot, unsteady breaths against my skin. Then he raised his head and growled, “I never imagined just how fucking hot it would be.”

I wetted my lips, rolling my hips in time with his rapid strokes. My tongue refused to cooperate and the words lodged in my throat. Instead, I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him down to kiss me, moaning against his lips as he kept pounding me. He broke the kiss with a throaty groan. We both tried to speak, failed, gave up. The time for talking was over. What needed to be said had been said. What we needed now couldn’t be found in any speech.

He kissed my neck, my shoulders, the side of my face. Tried to kiss my mouth, but neither of us could hold each other’s kiss longer than a heartbeat with the shallow, uneven gasps of breath we each drew.

“Oh God,” I said. “Oh God, Darren…”

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “Roll your hips like that again, like— Ohh, fuck.”

In seconds, we both came, holding on for dear life and trying to pull each other just a little closer, just a little deeper, until we both shuddered and relaxed.

His forehead rested on my shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, his breath on my sweaty skin sending a shiver up my spine before he lifted his head and kissed me.  We looked at each other silently for a moment, his expression as content and satisfied as I felt.

He pulled out and took care of the condom, then let me rest my head on his shoulder as he laid back on the bed. “So tell me,” he said, pausing.

I bit my lip. Something about his tone suggested he was going to ask something serious, perhaps something unsettling. The air between us was tense. I glanced towards the door. Eric would be back any moment. Better to get this over with now. I took a breath. “What?”

He shifted so that we were looking at each other. His brow creased a little and something in my gut shifted. Dropping his gaze, he wetted his lips, then looked at me and said, “Did Eric win, or did I? Because I completely lost count.”

My jaw fell open. “You…” I shook my head and rolled my eyes, laughing as the tension evaporated. “Here I thought you were going to ask something serious.”

“Like what? Who was better in bed?”

I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. “Oh, thank God you didn’t ask that.”

It was his turn to look surprised. “What? Why? Are

You—”

I snickered. Just then, Eric came back into the room.

“All right, what did I miss?” he said, eyeing both of us as we tried not to laugh.

“I was just putting your brother in his place,” I said.

“Hey!” Darren laughed.

Eric flashed me a cheeky grin. “You can put me in my place anytime you want.”

Darren ran his fingers through my hair, pausing to give it a slight pull. “Actually, she was just about to tell us who was better in bed.”

“I was not!”

“Well, I think I’ve won the bet,” Eric said with a cocky grin. “So that gives me an edge, doesn’t it?”

I eyed him. “We won’t make that decision until the game is over, Mr. Knight.” They both gave me incredulous, slack-jawed stares.

“Jesus, I think she could go all night,” Darren said.

“Well, I’m enjoying going All-Knight, if that’s what you mean.” I said, laughing. Darren caught the pun first and rolled his eyes. Then Eric got it and laughed.

“If we had another brother, I think we’d kill her.” He kicked off his jeans and laid down next to me.

“And if she had a twin, I think they’d kill us.”

“A twin,” Eric said, a dreamy tone in his voice. “Good God, that would be paradise.”

I smacked him lightly. “Sorry, you’re both stuck with just me.”

“Well, fuck,” Eric said, cupping my breast.

“Damn the luck,” Darren said, kissing the back of my neck.

“And don’t you two have a bet to win?”

“I’m going to win,” Eric said. “Darren’s already three orgasms behind.”

“Bullshit,” Darren said against my neck. “I was only two behind, and I gave her one while you were out having a smoke.”

Eric looked at me for confirmation. I nodded. “He did.”

He scowled and shifted, running his hand between my thighs. “Well. I guess it’s time for me to re-establish my lead.”

“You boys are going to kill me,” I said as Eric kissed my inner thigh and just before Darren’s lips closed over mine.

By the time they were done with me that night, no one could remember the score, and no one cared. It was well after two in the morning before all three of us collapsed, exhausted and satisfied beyond rational thought, and fell asleep.

Forty Seven

I woke up on Sunday morning with both brothers in my bed and a delicious feeling of satisfaction.

Watching them sleep beside me, I couldn’t believe that last night had really happened. My body ached, and I wondered if they hadn’t bruised me here or there, but I couldn’t remember ever being this perfectly, blissfully, sexually satisfied.

Neither of them could stay long after they woke up, and all three of us were too sore and tired to go another round. After everyone had showered and dressed, I saw them both to the door, kissing them each in turn before they left.

After they had gone, I made myself some breakfast and sat alone in my living room, thinking about last night, about everything that had happened with Eric, with Darren, with Max over the last few months. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

It was hard to believe that there was a time when I wondered if sex was all it was cracked up to be, if it was completely overrated. I knew then that something had to give, and it had. Had it ever. I knew that there had to be some decent sex out there, and there was.

Someday I’d find love again, but for now, I was content. For the first time in a long time, since before I got married, I was content. I was single, but I wasn’t lonely. I looked forward to more sex, but I was satisfied. I wasn’t afraid of or ashamed of my own desires anymore, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone push me around anymore—in or out of the bedroom.

I sipped my coffee and smiled to myself.

Life. Was. Good.

About Lauren

Lauren is an erotica author currently living in Okinawa, Japan, with her husband and two cats.

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