by Joey W. Hill
He obliged after spending a little time on her breasts again, getting her moaning in a constant hum from that stimulation before he took the spray between her legs again. His thumb idly rubbed against her collarbone as he held her in place, working her up until she was crying out, near climax once more. She blinked, disoriented as he took the spray away, putting it back in its mount.
"Last night you said you wanted to serve your Master on your knees," he said. "Do it now, do it well, and I'll finish what I just started."
She went down on her knees, and not just because of the promise of a climax. As the shower spray slid down her back, keeping her warm, she braced herself against his thighs and got up close and personal with the shaft jutting out over his thighs. His erection had returned in full force with their shower play.
Pressing her open mouth against the side of his cock, she played her lips over it, nuzzling and teasing him with the tip of her tongue as she curled her fingers around the base, the side of her hand pressing into his testicles. Opening her mouth, she took him in, slid down and down, far as she could go without gagging herself. She wanted to take all of him so badly, but he was too much. So instead she reached around him to pull some soap from the shower caddy. She made her hands nice and slippery and gripped him at the base with one and cupped his balls with the other, sliding the soap over them and around his shaft, rubbing her thumb over that pulsing vein. She could still recall the demanding grip of his hand on her throat, and the bliss of total obeisance took her over, all of her centered on this. Giving him pleasure at his command.
His hand fell on her head, the clutch of his fingers in her hair showing her he enjoyed her ingenuity, but he apparently had a different demand in mind. He slid her back off him to rinse his cock and then directed her mouth back onto it. Pushing her down on him in ruthless demand, he challenged her gag reflex, helping her learn how to relax it and take more of him. Was he testing her, seeing what worked or didn't for her? Or showing her what kind of Dom he was, determining how demanding she wanted him to be? So far he was doing great.
Her teasing of his cock with mouth and soapy fingers had made him stiffer, thicker, but now he wanted her to get down to business and suck him off. Since her pussy was still throbbing, aching for that climax he'd held out of reach, she was more than eager to prove how dedicated she could be.
She clung to his thighs, nails digging in as she sucked, licked, rose and fell on her knees, gripped him, stroked, squeezed and worked his balls in her eager fingers. A glance up through her lashes showed her he had his head tipped back against the shower wall, his hips jacking up into her mouth so she could hardly keep up. She worked her ass off for it, even as her jaw tired. He'd come only a little while ago, so it would take extra time, and she was determined to prove her stamina.
He made her stop, his cock still deep in her mouth. "Stay just like that," he said, his voice reverberating with fierce command in the small space. Pulling the showerhead from its mount, he dropped it down to dangle against her leg. "Put the head against your pussy. Hold it there so the water is hammering your clit, and then get back to sucking me off."
His hand tangled in her hair again as she complied, jerking at the stimulation. "Your sweet ass better not come before I do," he warned. "Or you'll be in big trouble."
The idea of that trouble was almost as stimulating as the spray itself. She went back to work. He'd cracked the shower door to be sure she had oxygen in her kneeling position, and that trickle of cool air along her spine was just one more sensation among many. The showerhead trapped between her thighs adjusted with her movements as she rose and fell, such that the spray slid over her labia, her clit, her thighs. Sometimes a straight, random powerful shot hit right under her clit hood, making her jerk and moan against his shaft. But she struggled to keep her focus on bringing him to climax, even as the water pressure made her crazy, until everything was pure physical response. Throbbing cunt, aching jaw, the taste of him, stretching and filling her mouth, his hand in her hair, her fingers digging into his thigh.
God . . . oh God, she was going to come. Blissfully, though, he thrust harder into her mouth then, hand spasming on the back of her neck as the first shot of his seed hit her throat and bathed her tongue. Thick fluid filled her mouth. She couldn't contain all of it, but she swallowed as much as she could.
He'd fucked her cunt, her mouth . . . Though she knew she was having crazy, sentimental, sex-driven thoughts, she wanted him to do it to her ass, too. Leave no area unclaimed.
She totally belonged to him.
***
As the pummeling water pushed Sam into climax, her cry of release became a scream that sent a hard shove of pleasure up the base of Geoff's spine, through his chest and definitely through his cock, flooding his own response into her vibrating throat.
He gripped her shoulders, holding her in place so she couldn't get away from what crashed over her, through her. He wanted her to fly like she'd never flown before, so when she fell to earth he could catch her.
"Oh fuck . . ." He choked out the words, more fervent than a curse. What he'd told her was so incredibly true. He'd imagined such an intuitive interaction with a submissive, but he'd always been too practical to believe it could happen like this. But the freaking remarkable thing was this was just the beginning, the tip of all the things he wanted to do for her, with her, to her.
She was thorough, of course. He had to stifle a half-pained chuckle as she kept working him in her mouth, not willing to ease up until he stopped her, drew her back. She was so eager to please and, though he was the Dom, he was amazed at how much her generosity spurred his own to the point he knew he'd do anything for her.
Even now, she kept her head pressed to his leg, her arms wound around him as he reeled the showerhead back up and returned it to the mount. Lifting her to her feet, he settled her in his arms, holding her against his chest and letting them both lean against the wall.
"I'm done," she mumbled. "I'm going back to bed for the rest of the day."
Geoff couldn't think of anything he'd enjoy more than spending the rest of the day in bed with her. But the only reason he could indulge their shower play was because he had an off-site meeting this morning that wasn't until nine o'clock, which had given him an advantageous extra hour at home. He was glad to be able to give her that much more time, to reinforce what had started the night before. He was sure she'd woken up worried he might renege on his promise. He wouldn't. If he backed away, leaving her alone with these feelings like she'd done something wrong, he was not only an idiot, he'd deserve every bit of the thrashing Chris could and would dish out.
He kissed her brow tenderly. "Sure, you say you're exhausted. Now. But if you're like most women, your batteries will recharge in the next hour. I'm the one who will nod off in the middle of the client meeting. Which, by the way--and I say this with total regret--I better get my ass in gear so I can be on time for it."
"Boo," she complained, but she smiled up at him. Shutting off the shower water, he shifted her in his arms and pushed the door open. She stepped out, his hand on her elbow steadying her.
Which meant he felt her freeze, as abruptly as if she'd been shot through with ice.
Chris was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching them. Because of the damn steam and water on the wavy glass of the shower door, Geoff had no idea how long he'd been there. His face was unreadable, but the second Geoff's gaze met those cold brown eyes, Chris was gone, pivoting on his heel.
"Chris," Sam said urgently, but Geoff knew he wouldn't respond. Damn it. He grabbed a towel and handed one to Sam, giving her a hard second look to make sure she was steady on her feet. "I'm fine," she said, understanding. "Go after him."
He strode out of the bathroom, the towel held around his hips, water beading off him and leaving a trail on the carpet. "Chris," he said sharply. "Damn it, don't you fucking leave."
He heard the heavy tread of Chris's work shoes hit the kitchen before Geoff even reached the living
room. When he came into the kitchen, he didn't see him, but he didn't have to wonder if Chris had beat him out the door. He walked right into his fist.
The son of a bitch coldcocked him at the kitchen threshold, the power of the punch knocking Geoff back against the frame. When someone hit him, Geoff's first response was normally retaliation. Over the years, he and Chris had had enough fights they practically had a scripted choreography. One hit first, the other hit back, and there was usually an exchange of three punches before they hit the ground and turned it into a down-and-dirty wrestling match that sometimes went Geoff's way, sometimes Chris's. In the end, it always ended up with them sitting together, bloody and bruised, sharing a beer.
Somehow he had a feeling this wasn't going to end as amicably, especially since Chris didn't seem interested in further physical contact. Of any kind. He'd stepped back and was dominating their modest-sized kitchen. They were of like height, though Chris had a more muscular bulk, and his skin was bronzed by outdoor work, blending the scattering of freckles he'd had across his nose and cheeks since he was a kid. His dark hair was tousled over the frosty brown eyes.
"Chris, it's not like that, man."
"Sure it is," the other man said, lip curling in a sneer. He wore camo pants and a T-shirt. When he came straight from work, he was usually in one of the dark blue Cortez Landscaping shirts Esteban had his employees wear. Since Chris was wearing one of his eclectic, off-the-wall T-shirts instead, it told Geoff they'd probably driven through the night, stopping at a truck stop for a quick cleanup. This T-shirt had a drawing of a brontosaurus wearing sunshades, with "Dinosaurs are Cool" printed around the long body. It had been a gift from Sam.
Sam slipped past Geoff's elbow. Without thought, Geoff reached out and caught her arm so she wasn't in between them. Right on the heels of her startled glance was Chris's incredulous expression, making Geoff wish he could recall the gesture.
"Really?" his friend said, his voice tight. "You really think I'd ever raise a hand against her?"
No. He wouldn't. Maybe it was the power of the things rolling off Chris that had made Geoff grab her, as if he knew other ways Chris could hurt her right now. This was his fault. He should have waited, no matter what Sam had thought. No matter that he'd found her eagerness to embrace her submissive side too irresistible. He'd been weak.
Sam was wearing the robe he'd left on the end of her bed, a silky thing that clung to her in patches because she'd dried off hastily. It was barely tied, so the neckline was revealing the curves of her breasts. She looked irresistible still, especially if he thought of where she'd been moments ago, how he'd taken her in the shower and then on her knees.
But she wasn't aware of her appeal. When either of them told her she was beautiful or hot, it flustered and pleased her in a surprised way that wasn't artifice. So it wasn't vanity that made her do what she did next. Far from it. Maybe it was all those feelings that had been bouncing between them too long, the braveness of her submissive nature, or her womanly intuition, but whatever combination it was made her risk herself now, in a way he didn't anticipate until the move was made.
Chris was still staring daggers at Geoff, so when Sam moved her hand to the tie of her robe, neither of them was overtly focused on what she was doing. She loosened the tie and opened the garment, sliding it off her shoulders so it whispered to the floor in a pool of thin fabric.
Chris's gaze snapped to her. With her back to him, Geoff saw the quick rise and fall of Sam's shoulders, her slim fingers curling next to her thighs, all signs of nerves as she stood before their roommate, letting him have a good, long look.
Geoff had meant what he'd said last night, about how he thought of her as theirs, not just his. However, if he'd ever needed direct proof of it, he had it now. As she stood naked between them, he wasn't jealous. Instead, he wanted Chris to feel everything he'd felt last night, an experience he wanted to share with Chris as much as Sam did.
She said nothing at first, and he wondered if she was building on what they'd done last night, giving Chris a chance to look his fill without interruption. For Geoff's part, he couldn't take his eyes off the lingering impression of his teeth on her shoulder, evidence of how he'd claimed her last night. It was probably good her hair was spilling forward over that side, because seeing that might be a little over-the-top for all the emotions Chris was handling right now.
Though it was difficult not to interfere, Geoff stayed motionless, watching the two people he cared about most in the world face each other.
"This is yours," Sam said to Chris. "I belong to both of you. You understand that. You know it." Her voice broke, a little tremor, and she moved a step forward. Then another.
He and Chris were both taller than Sam, though Chris's burlier build dwarfed her. When she reached him, she hesitated before she put her hands on his chest. Once the contact was made, she slid her arms around his neck, fingers briefly outlining his shoulders before she stretched up even higher, pressing herself full against him. Geoff well knew the bliss of that. His cock twitched, recalling how her small breasts and slim thighs felt against him, her sex rubbing against his length.
Chris's arms moved, stiff, undecided, a reflection of the conflict on his rugged face. When he put his hands on her hips, fingers closing over pale skin, she lifted higher on her toes, tugging on his hair to bring his head down to her, to her mouth.
They almost made it. But a breath before the distance would have closed into a kiss, Chris drew back. He stared down at her, then he gently clasped her wrists and slid them off his neck, pushing her back a step. From the flicker in his eyes, the tensing of her shoulders, Geoff could only imagine the hurt in her face. He wanted to move forward, to intervene, but something held him where he was.
Clearing his throat, Chris stepped around her and picked up her robe. He returned to face her as he threaded her hands through it and belted it securely. He wouldn't leave her standing there naked, vulnerable. A hard knife of guilt twisted through Geoff's chest. If he'd been in Chris's shoes, he wasn't sure he would have thought past his feelings on the matter to hers. But in the same breath he realized this wasn't about Sam. Not to Chris. This was about him and Geoff.
He'd wanted Chris to feel everything he'd felt with Sam last night. Which he could have, if he'd been there. Yet Geoff had acted on his feelings. He hadn't waited. How would he have felt if Chris had been the one here instead of himself? He might have not only punched him in the face, but gotten in a few kicks while he was on the ground.
"No," Chris told her, not unkindly. Geoff knew the pain in his friend's face would still tear her heart to shreds. Chris lifted his gaze to Geoff, and his expression became far cooler. "Not like this."
Turning away, he opened the kitchen door and left the house.
Look for Naughty Wishes Part II: Heart, available from InterMix February 2016. Keep reading for a special preview.
Geoff knew he couldn't miss his client meeting. Yet if he thought it would help Chris's state of mind, he'd say to hell with it and stay. The problem was, he knew it wouldn't.
Geoff latched on to Sam's arm, keeping her from following Chris when he stormed out of the kitchen and went into the backyard. Her body was vibrating with tension, the need to soothe, to fix. She was good at those things, but Geoff knew Chris in this mood better than she did. It didn't tear his heart out of his chest any less than it did hers, but Chris had to have his space when he was dealing with a surfeit of emotional shit. Finding the two of them naked and in the shower together qualified as a dump truck load.
"He needs some time to settle, Sam," Geoff told her. He put both hands on her shoulders so she had to face him square and pay attention to what he was saying. "Give him some breathing room, then we can talk it out."
She wasn't going to do that. Her gray eyes were filled with pain, her mouth taut with worry. He bit back a sigh. "You're not scheduled to work today. Why don't you come with me? The client meet is at a restaurant near Southpark Mall. You can go wander around there,
and come back to my office after. Read a book on my couch, whatever. If it gets late, you can take my car home and I'll catch the bus."
She shook her head. "I won't leave him alone, even if he doesn't want to talk. One of us needs to be here."
Geoff's fingers tightened on her. "Don't push him, Sam."
"I'll just follow my intuition," she said. "Like I did with you."
"And that worked out so well, didn't it?"
Shit, had he really just said that? He grabbed her hand when she recoiled, and gathered her to him as she started to struggle. "Stop. Ow." She slapped at him and hit his jaw, which was still sore thanks to Chris's much larger fist. He caught her wrist and gave her a little shake.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it. What happened between you and me wasn't wrong. It was everything I imagined, Sam. And a whole lot more than that."
She stopped struggling but glared at him out of steely gray eyes. "Why do you have to be so mean sometimes?"
"Because I open my damn mouth before I think about what's coming out of it," he said wearily.
At home, not at work. At work, doing the right thing at the right moment was second nature to him, but with her and Chris, he wasn't always as sure of his way. He could become the best orator in the history of the legal profession, and he still wouldn't know how to put together the right words to tell them exactly how much they meant to him. Case in point: he was pretty sure Chris had an altogether different impression of how much Geoff valued their friendship at the moment.