"Thank you very much," I mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Anytime," the waitress responds before walking away.
You can do this.
I inhale a deep breath and take a semi-confident step forward. I head down a long corridor until I hit the loo. I look around nervously before I push the door open. I’m so relieved when I realize that the waitress was right. If I'm going to do this, I'd rather be alone. I barricade the door behind me to be sure no one barges in. After a quick glance at my surroundings, I head towards the only stall in the room. I know I'm alone, but that doesn't prevent me from locking the door. I don't want to leave anything to chance.
Instinctively, I lower the lid over the toilet. Once I’m no longer looking down a vacant hole, I lift my dress and tuck the bottom underneath my chin. I place my fingers to the side of my panties ready to pull them down and follow Holden’s command, but suddenly his lewd words come crushing through me.
Now, I'm dripping.
Great.
Unable to contain myself, I place one silver heel on top of the folded seat to steady myself. Once I'm certain I won't tumble over, I push my nude-colored lace panties aside. I halt my movements for a beat to make sure I can’t hear anyone rattling the door handle. That would be highly embarrassing. I count until ten in my head. When I'm convinced no one will even notice I’m locked up in here, I proceed with my debauchery.
I bite down against my tongue to suppress a moan as I slide my middle finger inside my pussy to find my wetness.
Oh, God. I'm incredibly soaked.
I allow my head to loll back as I play with myself. It doesn't take long for me to conclude that one finger isn't enough. Determined to push this further, I slide my index finger in and thrust both fingers wildly in and out of my pussy.
Mother of God.
Lust engulfs my body as I imagine Brandon devouring me like I’m his last meal. Heat consumes me as I flashback to Holden’s finger skating around my clit and driving me out of my bloody mind while his large hand squeezes my ass.
Bloody hell.
My pulse quickens and a rush of my own juices gushes between my thighs as my insides clench in quick staccato pulses.
Ahhh.
The more I play with myself, the more my body’s temperature rises. Just when I think I can't get any wetter, my pussy proves me wrong. My overflowing juices make the play so much more pleasurable as I slowly draw circles over my clit. I bite down against my lip, shivering and panting from the electrifying current running through me.
Never in my life have I imagined I’d find myself in this position, but everything about this moment is outrageously intoxicating.
My heart beats stronger and my body heats up as I imagine Brandon licking and sucking me while Holden spews his trademark dirty talk that makes me lose my mind.
I’d love nothing more than for them to take turns fucking my mouth like they did on Monday morning when all three of us decided to throw caution to the wind. Better yet, I’d give just about anything for them to relentlessly pound my pussy with their very big cocks.
“Ohhh.” I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
I’m so consumed by my desire for them that I’m fucking myself with my fingers in a public place. Who is this woman?
Unwilling to ruin things for myself, I push the nagging self-doubt away and focus on the heat burning between my legs. I stroke harder and harder, completely obsessed by my need to climax. I rock my hips back and forth and press my pelvis down so that my clit rubs against my fingers as if I was sitting on top of Holden’s cock as Brandon devours my mouth.
I need more.
I apply more pressure to my hard clit.
Fuck.
I rub my clit furiously with one hand while I pump in and out of my dripping pussy with the other.
“God,” I let out a deep low grunt when my pussy starts pulsating uncontrollably.
Oh, yes. I’m so close. I’m so very close.
My body starts shaking as my pussy clenches around my finger, hot and dripping wet. I climax with a blissfully violent shudder, quivering hard enough to force me to stumble back and land with my back crashing against the stall door.
“Jesus.” I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, afraid the restaurant staff will come barging in to my rescue just to find me in this very compromising position.
I tilt my head back to better take in the intensity of the ripples of climactic flurries.
God, that was freaking incredible.
I steady myself on both legs breathing hard in an attempt to lower my rapid heart rate.
I pull my fingers out from my pussy, straighten my panties and drop the bottom of my skirt. With a shaky arm, I grab some toilet paper to wipe the juices trailing down my legs. Once I'm done, I open the door and walk hesitantly to the sink.
When I meet my reflection in the mirror, I'm stunned. I lean against the counter to really take stock of myself. My up do just went from messy chic to plain messy, my wrap dress is completely crooked and the V-neck of the décolletage reveals a peek of my nude-colored bra. To add insult to injury, my cheeks are so flushed you’d think I’d been for a long jog. In other words, this disheveled look speaks volumes.
I quickly wash my hands and struggle to pull myself together. It isn't perfect, but it's the best I can do. After straightening my dress, wiping off the mascara running down my face and polishing my hair off with the palm of my hand, I look semi-presentable again. I'm just about to leave the bathroom when I remember that I'm supposed to take them back my panties.
I pull my dress up and tuck it once again under my chin. Since I’m now standing in front of a very large mirror I can appreciate how naughty all this is. I hook my fingers to the side of my panties and start removing them, but stop as the cold slickness of my climax smears along the side of my legs.
“Jesus, these are so wet,” I murmur.
I allow a few short seconds for my body to get used to the sensation before I shimmy completely out of them. As per Holden’s request, I bunch them up in my hand. I still can't believe I’ll be walking around commando. It's unheard of. I guess since I accepted to play their game, I have to live with the consequences. So be it. As long as this results in another series of toe-curling orgasms, it’ll be worth it.
"Time to go," I laugh.
I allow my dress to fall so that I’m decent again—well, as decent as one can be when your fanny is flapping freely in the wind—I smooth down the fabric and glance at myself one last time before heading to the door. I take a step forward, but freeze when I hear a familiar voice on the other side.
"Sweetie, are you in there?" Brandon's question comes before the soft rap at the door.
I'm too shocked to respond.
"Princess, we just checked the other restroom and you weren’t there. If you're in this one, open up. Brandon and I are worried. Where the hell did you go?"
Bollocks.
I'm caught red-handed in my naughty self-pleasure session.
"Sweetie, can you hear me?" Brandon presses.
I don't know how long I've been in here, but if they're searching for me, it's far longer than I thought.
Resigned to face the music, I quicken my step to the door and fling it open.
Inquisitive eyes stare down at me.
I plaster a smile on my face, doing my best to look as innocent as possible. “Oh, hi.”
“What were you doing in there?" Holden asks. “We would’ve tried calling your phone, but you left your bag on the table.” He lifts my sparkling silver glitter clutch to eye level. “We thought you were going to come right back. Did you take a tour of the restaurant?” he chuckles.
"You asked me to come in here and... you know...” I’m unable to finish my sentence. Instead, I open my right hand and show him the proof of my obedience.
"Yeah, but that was twenty minutes ago," he pauses. He looks to his left then his right before speaking again. "How long does it take get out of your panti
es?"
“Well..." I clear my throat. "I might have done a little more than just remove my panties.”
“Like what?” Holden and Brandon ask in unison.
“Have you ever done something you know full well in advance is a very, very bad idea—foolish even—but you’re being egged by this pool of lustful desire consuming you, threatening to swallow you whole?” I know I’m babbling.
“Sweetie, what the hell does that mean?” Brandon asks impatiently. When I don’t answer he locks eyes with Holden.
“How the hell do I know? I’m not inside her head,” Holden snaps. His attention is back on me, carefully taking me in as I nervously dance from one foot to the other. “Talk to us, angel,” he says.
“With all of your dirty talking... I was way too turned on to just walk back into the dining room in this... state." When I look up at them, I’m overwhelmed by what I see.
Two pairs of aqua-blue eyes widen like saucers. Their mouths gaping open as realization sets in.
"No. You. Didn’t." Brandon finally says after a long stretch of silence.
I don't answer. I can't bear the thought of repeating that aloud.
Holden narrows his eyes and stares at me in disbelief. I avert my gaze, otherwise I’ll collapse from the intense heat. “Did you do what I think you did?" he asks.
“I’m not a mind—”
“Amelia,” Holden warns.
I offer a one-shoulder shrug and say, “Maybe.”
"Penthouse. Now," Holden barks. I’m frozen in place by the edginess in his voice. Brandon doesn't move either. He's still staring at me. "Brandon?” He doesn't respond. He’s blinking furiously now. His intense blue eyes are searing right through me and melting me at the core. "Snap out of it. I'm talking to you," Holden says more firmly.
"Huh?" Brandon looks up at him with a blank stare.
Holden snaps his fingers. "Are you with me?"
"Sorry. I-I still can't get over what she just confessed to doing in there. Frankly, I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this moment for as long as I live," Brandon offers.
Holden exhales loudly. "I hear you and I intend on doing something about it. She's not getting away with this."
"I certainly hope not," Brandon agrees.
"Perfect. Now that we’re on the same page, you'll grab a cab and haul your ass separately to the penthouse. I'll take care of escorting our dirty little princess back to our place and bidding her officer good night."
“You don't have to tell me twice," Brandon says. He turns his attention to me and lifts the corner of his mouth. I shiver and he hasn’t even spoken it. “That was positively filthy,” he says. “That little stunt you just pulled is unacceptable and we’ll remind you of it every time we thrust our cocks inside your wet pussy." Brandon dispenses his words of warning before rushing to the stairs.
God, what have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER 51
Holden
I’m so fucking turned on, I don't say a word during the trip back to our place. I remain mute like a monk. That’s pretty much the only priestly thing about me right now. My mind is so far in the gutter, it's not even funny. As much as I want to make conversation with Amelia, I can't. The only thing I can offer is to hold her hand. Anything more would turn this ride into a raunchy make-out session in the back of this car. She’s been as quiet as I've been. I don’t blame her. She already knows what awaits her. The sexual tension hangs over us like a thick cloud. I err on the side of caution and spend the trip looking out my window fooling myself into believing that I actually give a damn about the nighttime scenery. It's best this way. One look into her beautiful eyes and I wouldn't be able to resist. There's got to be a term to express this extreme state of horniness I find myself in. I wish I knew what it was. Thank God Officer Stohler is riding in a separate car. Chauffeurs are well-trained to mind their own business. Someone hired to ensure your protection comes at it from a different angle—been there, done that. I'm glad I don't have to make more of an effort to hide how eager I am to get back to my place. The woman sitting next to me is turning out to be a hell of a little vixen. That angel face and that beautifully perverted mind of hers will be the end of me. Goddammit.
Luckily, it's a short ride. One more minute of this and I swear I'd explode inside my boxer briefs. The chauffeur barely has time to stop the car in front of the building and I already jump out. It's so abrupt that an observer might think that my pants are on fire. In many ways, they are. I race to the other side of the vehicle to help Amelia out before the chauffeur even has time to reach her door. As she steps out of the car, another black limousine parks right behind ours. Officer Stohler arrives right on our heels.
After we exchange all the required polite niceties so we can all pretend Amelia isn't coming back to my place for a night of wild sex—and that blush creeping along Amelia’s cheeks, neck and décolletage aren’t betrayals of what’s about to go down on the twelfth floor of this building—I drag our little princess to the elevators. I give the concierge a quick nod as I eat up the floor with my long strides. Amelia has to break into a jog just to keep up. When we get in front of the elevator, I find myself, once again, pressing the button numerous times in a row impatiently cursing under my breath at the damn thing and praying for it to come down faster.
I text Brandon when we finally enter the elevator to let him know we’re on our way up. His response is immediate. He just arrived. He already has a bottle of red airing and he made sure we have a bottle of chilled champagne for Amelia just in case she prefers some bubbly.
He's a good friend. I’ll definitely need something to mellow me out before I even touch a strand of her hair. What’s raging inside me is so strong, I'm afraid it might be too much for her to handle. I need a few minutes to decompress.
When we almost reach the top floor, I turn and look down at her. Big green eyes sparkle at me. “You want this, right?” I ask. “I know we've been taking things slow and we’ve taken turns with you so far, but it’s not going to happen tonight. We’re not going to be gentle, angel.” It's only fair that I spell things out.
“That’s what you said on Sunday night and I survived,” she volleys.
I can’t help but smile. I turn to the side so that I can cup her beautiful face. I bend my knees and drop my forehead against hers. I love the way she gets on her toes so that we’re that much closer. "You never cease to surprise me with your witty repartees," I say before kissing her softly. It was supposed to be chaste and innocent, but when she moans into my mouth, I let loose. I take her lips in an ardent and raunchy kiss. We’re all tongues and hands groping at each other like hungry teenagers. I barely register when the bell rings indicating that we've arrived at our place, or the rumble of the doors sliding open. It's all about her until Brandon breaks our embrace.
“I can't believe you guys started without me," he says. Reluctantly, I take a step away from Amelia before I move my eyes towards Brandon. He’s standing in the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. The unimpressed expression painted on his face speaks volumes. I'm surprised to see that he's genuinely miffed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Royal. As if we’d exclude you,” I say. “It was just a quick kiss," I add, walking past him and patting him on the shoulder. Amelia is right behind me, our hands still interlaced.
"It didn't look that way," he comes back to me. "That was pretty hot and heavy."
"Don't get your boxer briefs all tied up in a bunch. It’s the three of us or not at all and you know it," I say to appease him. That does the trick. He softens his stance and unfolds his arms. "I didn't want her to walk through these doors," I point in front of me. "without the full realization that we’re going to take her in the most unwavering way. Her answer was priceless—as always—and I ended up kissing her. Since her lips are addicting, it got a little out of hand. End of story."
Brandon turns his attention to Amelia.
"It wouldn’t be the same without you, Brandon," she says. "And don't for
get, you’re the first one I kissed," she winks. Cheeky princess.
Brandon smiles wide like a fucking fool. “Maybe I'm overreacting. It's just that I want her so darn much," he explains.
"You and me both, buddy," I remind him. "Let's all go inside and have a drink," I suggest. I pull Amelia’s arm and she follows. "Angel, Brandon has some champagne ready for you. Would you prefer that or another glass of red?" I ask as I make my way to the front door.
"Thank you, but I don't want a drink," she responds.
I stop in my tracks and turn around to face her. "Would you prefer some coffee with a little brandy or Bailey's?"
She shakes her head. "I don't want that either."
"What do you want? Tea? Sparkling water?" It's Brandon's turn to make sure she's well taken care of.
"When I said I didn't want a drink, I meant I don't want anything at all. I just want you," she affirms. The provocative arched eyebrow only stresses her incendiary words.
She lets go of my hand and walks alone towards the penthouse, leaving us there to pick up our jaws from the floor. Since Brandon left the door open, she just walks in and we follow her like well-trained dogs.
She’s already several steps ahead of us when we finally walk inside the penthouse. She drops her sparkling handbag on the side table and glides down the hallway, swinging her hips from left to right. My eyes follow each movement riveted. She doesn’t even fucking turn around. It’s like she knows we’re right on her heel.
“Sweetie, you’re sure you don’t want a drink? It might mellow us out,” Brandon offers.
“Nope. I’m plenty mellow. I have been since I came in the lady’s restroom.”
Her brazen words hit me like a brick.
What the fuck?
“Amelia, what game are you playing?” I growl. My tone teeters between raw lust and irritation at the way she’s taunting us.
“Oh, but Chief Petty Officer Barclay and Petty Officer Buckingham, I’m not mucking around.” She had to use our titles. "I’m dead serious. I. Want. Your. Cocks.” Every word that comes out of her beautiful mouth is deliberate. That sexy as hell accent only makes it raunchier. With her demand hanging thick in the air, she brings her hands up to her waist and does this little hip action very reminiscent of the first time we saw her.
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