by Ramona Gray
Now there was something like appreciation in his gaze as it dropped briefly to my breasts, that were well-hidden beneath my baggy shirt, before rising to my face again.
“Glad to hear it.” He grabbed a juice from the fridge and left the kitchen as Jemma eyed his ass with unabashed delight.
When he was gone, she breathed, “Holy shit. Did you see the way he looked at you?”
I flushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Jemma rolled her eyes. “Bullshit, Naomi. You’re twenty-three years old – you know when a man wants you.”
“Mason Shaw doesn’t want me. You – you’re being ridiculous.”
She frowned at me. “No, I’m not. But be careful, okay? Sleeping with the boss can be dangerous.”
“I’m not going to sleep with him!” My voice was too loud, and I cringed before lowering it. “I’m not going to sleep with Mason Shaw.”
“Probably a wise move,” Jemma said. “I know technically he’s not your boss, but you know that he and Dane are super close. Sleeping with Mason would be like sleeping with your boss.”
She suddenly fanned her face. “Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to be the meat in a Mason/Dane sandwich.”
I stared wide-eyed at her. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, please. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumours.”
“They’re just rumours,” I said.
“Maybe they are and maybe they aren’t. But personally, I choose to believe that those two hot studs are exactly what the rumours say they are. I’ve heard they won’t even sleep with a woman unless she agrees to fuck them both. Missy from accounting says she was at a bar last year and she watched the two of them hit on a woman together. She says they had the woman eating out of their hands in less than five minutes and the three of them left together.”
She sighed happily. “Could you even imagine what it would be like to be fucked by the both of them?”
When I didn’t reply, she elbowed me in the side and grinned. “I can imagine it. In fact, I’ve imagined it many times.”
“I have to go,” I mumbled. “Mr. Wilson asked me to come in early to work on the Stanton file.”
I hurried out of the kitchen before Jemma could reply. My cheeks were flushed, and my pelvis and breasts were suddenly throbbing.
Get a hold of yourself, I scolded myself fiercely. Even if Mason Shaw had suddenly lost his mind and wanted me, Dane Wilson certainly did not. My boss was sinfully gorgeous with his dark hair and dark eyes, but he was also cold and aloof with me. I was confident he thought I was a complete waste of space. I was lucky he’d even hired me. I had absolutely zero experience and I’d lied horrendously in the interview. I’d spent the first two weeks of my new job, sweating bullets and secretly trying to learn the computer system before my lies were discovered. Even now, three months later, I was terrified that my deception would be discovered even though I had a pretty good handle on my day-to-day tasks.
I needed this job. It paid well and it was my only hope for breaking free of my father’s control. Speaking of which, my heart lifted when I saw the plain white envelope sitting on my desk. It was my paycheque.
Payroll was surprised when I requested to be paid by cheque instead of direct deposit, but it was a necessity. My father demanded I hand my earnings over to him, insistent that as a woman I didn’t possess the qualities needed to properly manage my money. I couldn’t very well refuse, considering I was given permission to get a job based on my promise of working only to help the family and to save for my future wedding.
But I lied about my wage and every payday I used my lunch hour to go to the bank and cash my cheque. I kept back nearly two hundred dollars from each pay, hiding it in a box tucked under a loose floorboard in my room. In another six months or so I’d have enough money for a deposit on an apartment. I would be free of my father, free of the religious cult he had immersed us in, and I’d never have to suffer the humiliation of being nothing more than a man’s possession.
I tucked my paycheque into my purse and turned on my computer. Mr. Wilson’s office door was closed but I had no doubt he was in there. He always arrived before everyone else and he would be waiting impatiently for the Stanton file. I took a deep breath, pushed away the image of Mason Shaw staring at my breasts, and turned on my computer.
* * *
Naomi
I carried the two mugs of steaming hot tea out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Mr. Wilson had left just before lunch for a client meeting, but he always requested a mug of tea at precisely three-thirty. He wasn’t back in the office yet, but I knew he’d be back any minute because his calendar showed a meeting with Mason Shaw at three-thirty.
I stopped in front of Mr. Wilson’s closed office door and carefully transferred the second mug of tea to my left hand. I winced a little as the heat of the mugs burned at my fingers. Before I could open the door, it swung open on its own. I had just enough time to get my right arm up and prevent it from smashing me in the face, but the mugs of tea weren’t nearly as lucky. The door hit my arm and the mugs, shattering them on contact and spraying hot tea all over my hand, arm and chest. I made a sharp cry of pain before dropping the broken handles.
“Fuck!” Mason Shaw stood in the doorway and he stared at the tea soaking into my white shirt before grabbing my hand and yanking me into Mr. Wilson’s office. He moved me swiftly across the room to the private bathroom and pushed me into the small room.
“Son of a bitch,” Mason said, and reached for the buttons on my shirt.
“Don’t do that!” I slapped at his hands and he frowned at me.
“I need to see if you’re burned, Naomi.”
He had my shirt unbuttoned and dropped to the floor with surprising quickness. I immediately slapped my arms over my breasts clad in a sensible and boring beige bra. Hot tea had soaked into the fabric, burning my nipples, but I was absolutely mortified to be standing in front of Mason without my shirt. I kept my arms clamped firmly across my breasts.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He studied my red upper chest.
“I-it’s fine, Mr. Shaw,” I said. “It was an accident. I need to clean up the mess before it ruins the carpet.”
“Stay right where you are, sweetheart.”
He dampened the hand towel with cool water and pressed it against my arm and hand. When he pressed it against my upper chest, I couldn’t help but flinch. My upper chest and breasts had been splashed with the majority of the hot tea. Mason slipped one arm around me and stroked my bare back soothingly.
“Mr. Shaw, please, I shouldn’t be -”
“Shh.” He moved the towel in gentle circles against my upper chest. His other hand touched the braid wound around my head. My dark hair was thick and hung nearly to my waist and I was shamefully vain about it. I never wore it down because my father said respectable women always kept their hair neat and tidy in the company of men. Sometimes at night when I was alone in my room, I would release it from its bun or braid and admire the soft silkiness of it.
Mason pulled the towel away and leaned down to examine my chest. His blond hair brushed my chin and I had to press my lips shut against my soft gasp. I’d never been this close to any man before. I breathed in the scent of his cologne as he made a soft noise in the back of his throat.
“My poor sweetheart. Your skin is so delicate,” he said.
“It’s really okay,” I whispered. “I should go and…”
My voice died out in a breathless moan when he pressed his lips against my skin.
“Mr. Shaw, wh-what are you doing?”
“Kissing it better.” There was a thin thread of amusement in his voice. My pulse drummed in my veins as he trailed his ridiculously warm lips across my chest.
“Please, you shouldn’t do that,” I whispered.
“Shouldn’t do what? This?” He pressed a kiss against my collarbone, and I moaned when I felt his wet tongue skim across my skin.
“Does that feel better, sweetheart?�
�� He licked my upper chest again.
“I – yes.”
“Good.” He lifted his head and studied my flushed face. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“I’m not beautiful.”
“You are,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”
His gaze dropped to my lips and my mouth turned Sahara Desert dry. He stepped closer, pressing the length of his hard body against mine before brushing his lips against my mouth.
I shivered all over, and he smiled before kissing me again. “So responsive, sweetheart. I knew you would be.”
“Mr. Shaw, I -”
“Mason.” He licked my upper lip. “Call me Mason.”
“M-mason, this is very…”
“Exciting? Arousing? Hot?” He suggested with a small grin.
I was going to say inappropriate but before I could stutter out the word, his mouth was on mine again. For the first time in my life, I had a tongue sliding between my lips.
Holy crap. Mason Shaw was kissing me. French kissing me.
“Kiss me, sweetheart,” he breathed against my mouth.
I shouldn’t have, I knew that, but the pressure of his mouth was positively intoxicating. I kissed him back hesitantly. I had no idea what I was doing but it must have been okay because Mason groaned again. His arm slid around my waist and he crushed me against his hard body as his kiss turned deeper.
He was sliding his tongue in and out of my mouth, licking and darting and flicking at my tongue with a sweetness that made me moan. I wanted to kiss him forever, wanted to feel the soft brush of his tongue and lips against mine until time just stopped. I had no idea that kissing could feel this good.
“What’s going on?”
Dane’s deep voice brought me out of my kiss-induced haze. I pushed away from Mason in panic.
“Mr. Wilson, I’m so sorry.” I wanted to die of shame. I stared miserably at the floor of the bathroom as he stood in the doorway.
“What’s going on, Mason?” Dane repeated.
“I burned her with hot tea,” Mason said.
“You did what?” The anger in Dane’s voice made me cringe. I took a step back, pressing my ample body against the far wall of the tiny bathroom as Dane crowded into the room.
“Easy, Dane. It was an accident,” Mason said. “She was coming into your office, I was coming out, and we collided.”
“Does she need to go to the hospital?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that bad. Mr. Shaw put some, uh, cool water on it and it’s already feeling much better.”
I was lying. Away from the intoxicating taste of Mason, my upper chest was feeling tender and my breasts, my nipples in particular, were really stinging. I needed to get out of this tiny room filled with two very big men and get to the ladies’ room so I could remove my tea-soaked bra and inspect the damage.
I snatched my shirt from the floor but before I could struggle into it, Mason pulled it from my trembling hands. I whirled around to face him with a pleading look.
“You can’t wear this, sweetheart. It’s soaking wet.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Please, can I have my shirt back?”
He shook his head and my eyes widened when I felt Dane’s warm breath on the back of my shoulder. “Her bra is soaked as well.”
I clamped my arms tightly across my breasts as Mason’s gaze dropped to them.
“It isn’t,” I said.
“It is. Take it off, Naomi,” Dane said.
The area between my thighs tingled with shameful anticipation. I couldn’t - shouldn’t – take off my bra even though I suddenly really wanted to do what Dane was telling me. It wasn’t proper to be half-naked in front of my boss and his best friend. I stared anxiously at Mason as I said, “No, I – I can’t.”
“You can.” Dane’s hard body was touching mine now and I gasped when I felt his fingers brush across the clasp of my bra. “We need to see your breasts, Naomi.”
Even as he was speaking, his nimble fingers were unhooking my bra. I made another nervous squeak when he slid his fingers under the straps at my shoulders.
“Lower your arms.”
He spoke quietly but the dark command in his voice had me dropping my arms immediately. He slipped the bra from my body and I closed my eyes in a combination of shame and desire as I stood half-naked in front of two men.
“So fucking gorgeous,” Mason crooned.
My eyes popped open. He was staring at my breasts with a look of pure hunger and my body reacted instantly. My nipples peaked, and there was a surge of wetness between my thighs as my pussy instinctively smoothed a path for Mason.
Dane’s big hands cupped my breasts. I moaned and sagged back against him as fire licked at my nerve endings. He lifted my breasts, testing their weight before squeezing them lightly.
“Are your nipples sore?” he murmured into my ear before licking the curve of it.
I moaned again, my hands clutching helplessly at Dane’s forearms as he licked my neck.
“Are they, baby?” he said.
Incapable of speech, I nodded. He soothed his thumbs over my nipples before glancing at Mason.
“Mason, help her.”
“My pleasure.” Mason dropped my shirt to the floor. His blond head dipped lower and I pressed back against Dane’s body, barely registering the hardness I felt against my ass.
“I don’t think -”
“Shh, baby.” Dane was still cupping my breasts and Holy Mother of Mary did it feel good. “We just want to help.”
He lifted my breasts even higher, guiding my nipple to Mason’s mouth. I cried out when Mason sucked tenderly at my nipple. His mouth was hot and wet, and the stinging was instantly soothed by the laving of his tongue.
“Fuck, Dane,” Mason muttered against my breast. “Her nipples are incredible.”
He sucked and nibbled and licked as I pressed my ass against Dane and made soft cries of need. Oh God, had I ever felt anything this good before?
“Look at me, Naomi.” Dane’s voice demanded obedience and I tilted my head up. Immediately his mouth descended on mine, his tongue pressing against my lips. I moaned helplessly and parted my lips as he slanted his mouth over mine and thrust his tongue in deep.
His kisses were nothing like Mason’s. There was no softness to his touch, just hardness and desperate need, and I submitted immediately to his dominance. There was something right about allowing him to have control and take what he wanted from me. I returned his kiss eagerly as he slid his hand over the curve of my belly to the elastic waist of my skirt.
Mason continued to lick and nibble at my breasts, his hot mouth bringing goosebumps to my flesh, as Dane pushed his hand past my skirt and into my cotton panties. His hand cupped my hot core and his fingers glided through the shameful amount of liquid that had gathered there. He groaned into my mouth.
“She’s so fucking wet, Mason.”
“Good,” Mason said against my breast.
“Are you wet for us, baby?” Dane said. “Does your pussy want our cocks?”
I tried to close my legs as he stroked the wet lips of my warmth.
“No,” he growled. “Keep your legs open for me, Naomi.”
“Mr. Wilson,” I whispered. “This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be -”
He kissed me again as the tips of his fingers brushed the tiny, throbbing bundle of nerves between my legs. My reaction was hot and immediate. My back arched and I cried out into his mouth as he rubbed it again.
“She’s so damn responsive,” Dane rumbled.
“I know.” Mason grinned up at him. “It’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Please,” I whispered.
“Please what, baby?” Dane sucked on my bottom lip.
“I want more,” I moaned shamelessly.
“More of this?” His fingers touched my clit again and I jerked against him as Mason chose that moment to bite my nipple.
“Oh! Oh yes,” I said frantically.
“Whatever you want,” he growled before rubbing and tugging on my clit. I shook and writhed against him as a strange tension built in my belly.
“Please, oh please!” I cried out.
I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Mason had pushed my breasts together and his hot mouth was slipping back and forth, sucking each nipple into an aching hardness, as Dane continued to circle and rub my clit.
The delicious tension was building, and I stared at Dane in a panic. “What – what’s happening to me?”
His eyes widened and his fingers slowed to a stop as he glanced at Mason. “Mason, I don’t think she -”
“Fuck, Dane. Shut your mouth and make her cum. I need to see it,” Mason said.
“Dane? Please help me. I can’t – the ache – I can’t stand the ache,” I whispered.
He cursed before covering my mouth with his. I was so close but to what I didn’t know. I only knew that if he didn’t touch me, if he didn’t help me, I would go completely mad.
His fingers pinched that hard button between my legs, pinched it and then rubbed it and suddenly I was falling. I screamed, the sound muffled by his mouth as the most incredible rush of pleasure swept through me. It made my limbs shake with the intensity and I would have fallen to the floor if Dane’s strong arm hadn’t been hooked around my waist. My eyes were squeezed shut, my mouth filled with Dane’s tongue, and my breasts held firmly by Mason’s large hands as his fingers caressed my rock-hard nipples.
“Holy shit,” Mason said when I finally stopped shuddering and writhing between them and sagged against Dane. Mason still cupped my breasts and I was only vaguely aware of Dane’s middle finger sliding down and breaching my tight entrance.
“Did you see that, Dane?” Mason said. “That was hands-down the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever watched a woman have. I need to fuck her right now.”
“Mason.” Dane’s finger probed inside of me and I winced and tried to close my legs as he withdrew his finger. “Jesus, Mason, I think she’s a -”
“Mr. Wilson?” Our receptionist’s voice coming from the phone intercom on Dane’s desk was tinny and low but the three of us froze like she was in the room with us.