Playing with Piper (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing for Love Book 3)

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Playing with Piper (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing for Love Book 3) Page 10

by Tara Crescent


  They can have anyone they want. It’s surreal that they want me.

  Owen gives me one final kiss, then he pushes my shoulders back against the couch. “She’s lovely, isn’t she, Wyatt?”

  Oh God. They’re discussing me as if I’m not even here, and it’s turning me on. I squirm in my seat. I can’t believe how aroused I’m getting.

  Wyatt trails a finger over my nipple. His touch is light and teasing. I whimper in frustration. Harder, I want to scream. Please touch me properly. But it’s taken all the courage I possess to come here tonight, and I’m not bold enough to ask for what I need.

  “I want to taste you,” Owen rasps. “Yes or no, Piper?”

  “Oh God yes,” I almost sob out. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They lower their mouths to my nipples. They lick each erect nub and suck it between their lips, and their teeth nibble at my flesh. Seeing their heads bent over my breasts sends a shiver of desire shooting through my core.

  I’m a paper boat on a stormy sea. I’m hurtling, out of control, on an ocean of scalding hot lust.

  I throw my head back on the couch and close my eyes, almost overwhelmed with how good their touch feels. Wyatt’s beard prickles against me. Owen’s stubble chafes at my tender skin. I press my fingers against my mouth to muffle the moans that I can’t hold back.

  When they stop, I almost shriek in protest.

  “Piper.” Wyatt’s voice is hoarse with need. His hand strokes my calves, inching upward to my thigh. “Stand up.”

  If I stand up, my dress will fall to the ground, and I will be almost naked in front of Wyatt and Owen, wearing my lace underwear and nothing else.

  “Yes or no, honey?” Owen asks calmly. “No pressure.”

  My insides clench and twist. I like this game. Each time they ask me to do something, I’m turned on. When I comply with their requests and see the open appreciation in their eyes, I feel like a goddess. And I’ve never felt like a goddess before.

  You’re special to us, they’d said in their note. These aren’t just empty words. They’re making me feel special now.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I get to my feet, standing in the narrow gap between the couch and the coffee table. My dress falls to the floor. I’m illuminated by the ever-present lights of Manhattan and the silvery gleam of moonlight, almost naked, shivering slightly as the cool breeze caresses my body, exposed to their gazes.

  “Take off your bra,” Owen orders.

  “What happened to Yes or No?” I ask, my hands reaching for the clasp behind my back.

  “You always have the right to say no,” Wyatt says quietly. “At any stage, at any point, at any minute, you can always change your mind.” He gives me a direct look. “But if you aren’t saying no, then take it off.”

  I unclasp my bra and toss it on Owen’s lap. He chuckles at my gesture. Wyatt’s staring at me. “God you’re beautiful,” he says quietly.

  Owen nods in agreement. “Now the panties, baby,” he says implacably.

  In for a penny, in for a pound. I strip them off and toss them on the couch. Owen catches them in mid-air. “Are you wet, Piper?” he asks me with a wicked look. He brings my panties to his nose and inhales deeply. I go beet-red with embarrassment. I can’t believe what he’s doing.

  Wyatt rises to his feet. He moves behind me, clearing our glasses and the candles away from the coffee table. “Lie back,” he instructs, once he’s done. “Spread your legs, Piper.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God, I can’t believe this is actually happening.

  I’m a little slow to comply. Wyatt’s hands wrap around my ankles, pushing my legs apart. “If you want me to stop,” he says, “all you have to do is say no.”

  I hold his gaze. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  A smile illuminates his face. “Then why am I prying your legs open?” he asks pointedly.

  I flush and cover my face with my hands. “Because,” I groan, “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Hang on.” Wyatt draws back and looks at me with complete astonishment. “You’ve never had oral sex before?”

  This is really embarrassing. “I’ve done it. I’ve never had it done to me.”

  “Fuck me.” He runs his hands through his hair. I risk a glance at Owen, who’s looking as shocked as Wyatt. “The guys you’ve been with are fools, Piper. Spread your legs. Let’s fix this gap in your education.”

  Owen kneels at my side and kisses me. His fingers play with my nipples, pinching them and pulling them. My breasts go heavy with desire, and I gasp with pleasure at his touch.

  I’ve had sex before, but it’s never felt this way. My first time was in the back seat of a car, a rushed and painful experience I have no desire to repeat. I had a boyfriend for the few months I went to college in New Orleans. Our sex life was good enough. Sure, he never went down on me, but that seemed like a minor flaw.

  Now, as Wyatt part my folds, I realize how wrong I was. He breathes on my pussy, and goosebumps rise on my skin. “So pretty,” he mutters. He pushes a finger into me. “God, you’re so tight.”

  It’s been a very long time, Wyatt.

  He removes his finger. His hands hold my thighs open, and he bends his head toward me. His tongue licks at my slit, and when he reaches my clitoris, he sucks it in between his lips.

  I almost jump off the coffee table as pleasure shoots through me.

  “You like that, Piper?” Wyatt asks. “Owen, you’ve got to taste her.”

  “Move over and I will,” Owen retorts.

  Again, I blush at the way I’m being discussed, and again, wetness gushes from my pussy.

  “Not yet.” Wyatt resumes licking me, his strokes long and steady. I’m lost in a delirious haze. I ache everywhere. My nipples throb as Owen teases them. I tremble as they feast on me, as if I were a rare delicacy to be savored.

  My muscles start to clench. Wyatt senses that I’m close to the edge, because he pushes two fingers inside me. “I want to feel you, Piper.” His tongue dances over my clit, harder, faster. I gasp and my fingers grip at the nearest object, which happens to be Owen’s blond hair. “Please,” I cry out.

  Wyatt thrusts his fingers in and out of me. His tongue swirls tight circles around my bud. I whimper and try to flail out of his grip, but he doesn’t let go. I’m so close. Every muscle in my body tightens.

  Then Wyatt sucks my clit gently between his teeth. The dam bursts and I explode, shaking as a tsunami of pleasure washes over my body.

  * * *

  When thought returns, I’m mortified. Well-behaved Southern women do not spread their legs so wantonly and they certainly don’t scream their orgasms.

  Owen grins at me. “I think it’s my turn,” he says with relish. “It doesn’t seem fair that Wyatt gets to be the only one to taste your sweetness.”

  I sit up in mild alarm. “I need a break first.” My body is sated, and my pussy is swollen and sensitive. If Owen goes down on me, I will fall apart. Can one die from coming too much?

  Owen helps me to my feet and I collapse on the couch. Wyatt hands me a blanket. “I don’t want you to get cold,” he says.

  I chuckle. “Either you’re being very chivalrous, or you just don’t want your chef to get sick four days before the first round of the contest.” I give Wyatt a dry gaze. “Which is it?”

  “I don’t like to lose,” he says blandly, though he winks at me as he says it.

  I lean against Owen’s shoulder while I sip my champagne. “You made me come,” I say, blushing as I remember the way I fell apart. “I should return the favor.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Owen’s fingers trail a path down my bare arm. “You don’t have to work tomorrow.”

  “That’s true.” Owen’s touch is getting me hot again. I shift restlessly in my seat, and they both notice. “Are you trying to tell us something, Piper?” Owen teases me.

  I flush again. I have no problems arguing with Owen and Wyatt over restaurant details. But we’re not at Piper’s, and I’m unabl
e to speak.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Wyatt’s eyes gleam in anticipation. “Let’s play another game. Whatever you ask for, we’ll do. But if you don’t ask for anything, we’ll just sip our wine and enjoy the night sky.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not even a little.”

  Owen grins. “Oh, this is going to be good,” he says. “Come on, Piper. Don’t be shy.”

  “You guys think I’m a prude.” My cheeks might be flaming at the idea of asking them to go down on me, but I’m definitely not a prude. If I were, I’d be at home, in my rocking chair, with Jasper on my lap. Not sitting naked on a rooftop in the Upper West Side, between two fully clothed men.

  “I don’t think you are,” Wyatt replies. “You need to ask for what you want.” His voice softens. “My dick has been hard all evening long, Piper,” he says. “There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change how much I want you.”

  Oh what the heck. I’m here, and they’re here, and I want them. I lift my chin up. “I want Wyatt to kiss me.”

  Wyatt pulls me toward him. “Kiss you where?” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. “Here?” He kisses the side of my neck. “Or here?” He pushes the blanket aside and he nuzzles the curve of my shoulder.

  “On my lips.”

  His fingers rest on my chin. “Gladly.” His mouth lowers on mine, claiming my lips with a deep, sensual kiss. His fingers skim the sides of my breasts as our tongues dance together. I’m dizzy with need when he breaks free. “What next, Piper?”

  This is getting easier. “I want Owen to go down on me,” I say bravely. “And I want to suck Wyatt’s cock at the same time.”

  “Fuck me.” Wyatt looks at the stars. “You said cock. I think my heart just stopped.”

  Owen positions me on the coffee table again. Wyatt unzips his pants and his cock leaps out, hard, long, and thick. I swallow as I look at it. Wyatt’s huge. If Owen’s the same size, I’m in over my head.

  Owen’s tongue lavishes my clitoris with toe-curling attention. I twist to the side and reach for Wyatt’s cock, wrapping my hand around the base. Wyatt throws his head back. “Piper,” he rasps. “You are killing me here.”

  I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I just wanted to repay the favor,” I say sweetly. Then I take his length into my mouth, my tongue swirling around his head.

  I’m rewarded by his throaty groan. His hand presses against the back of my neck, but he’s letting me set the pace, and I appreciate his consideration. I’m not an expert at this. I don’t know how to deep throat. If he forces his cock into my mouth, I might bite him.

  Owen slides two fingers deep into my pussy and twists them to find my g-spot. “God,” he says, his voice ragged. “You are so fucking tight, and you taste so fucking good.” His tongue circles my clitoris while he pumps his fingers in and out of me.

  I moan into Wyatt’s cock. I’m seconds from losing control again. Blood pounds in my head as my orgasm nears. Owen’s skilled fingers and mouth cause me to hurtle to the edge. I bob faster on Wyatt’s dick, alternating delicate licks with harder suction. His desperate moans make me feel powerful.

  The ache in my pussy intensifies as Owen circles my clit with the tip of his tongue. His touch feels amazing, but I need more. I need a cock thrusting into me, pounding, thrusting, each stroke making me tremble and quiver. “Please,” I pull my mouth free of Wyatt’s cock and beg Owen. “Fuck me.”

  His eyes blaze with heat. “Gladly,” he growls. Wyatt tightens his grip on my hair, and I turn my attention back to his cock. My fist slides up and down his length, and I wrap my lips around his thickness.

  Owen rolls a condom onto his cock. His hands grip my ankles. “I’m going to fuck you, Piper,” he warns. He pushes into me in one forceful thrust.

  Oh my God this feels incredible. He fills me completely. After years of celibacy, it’s a little painful, but I welcome the burn. It’s been so long. I want this.

  My gaze meets Wyatt’s. His eyes are hazy with desire. “Piper,” he warns me. “If you don’t want me coming in your mouth, tell me now.”

  Owen’s thumb circles my clitoris. His dick pounds into me. The strokes are thundering, raw and powerful. I’m engulfed in pleasure. I pull back from Wyatt’s dick long enough to look him in the eyes. “I want to swallow.”

  “Fuck me,” Wyatt groans. “Piper, what are you doing to me?”

  Owen’s thrusts are faster now, more uncontrolled. I moan aloud, uncaring that I can be heard. I can’t think about anything other than how good this feels. The friction is exquisite. My body is liquid heat. My muscles tighten and clench. I can’t hold back; I need to come now.

  Wyatt grunts, his hand on the back of my head holding me close. He comes deep in my throat, and I swallow every drop. Owen doesn’t let up on my pussy. He slams into me, hard and fast. When his fingers increase their pressure on my clitoris, I come again, screaming my pleasure for all of New York to hear.

  * * *

  “Spend the night,” Owen says lazily.

  I can’t deny I want to. I don’t know if the subway’s running at this hour and the idea of curling up between the two of them is very tempting.

  But sleeping with someone is a far more intimate thing than having sex with them.

  “Piper.” Wyatt’s voice jerks me out of my reverie. “We only bite on request. The bakery downstairs makes an incredible croissant. You’ll think you’re in Paris. Please stay.”

  “Okay.” Who am I kidding? I don’t want to leave.

  22

  If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.

  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  Owen:

  I wake up early. Piper’s curled up into a ball in the center of the bed, the blanket wound tight around her. Wyatt’s side is empty. He must be up already.

  I slide out of bed without making a sound, and head to the kitchen. Wyatt’s leaning against the counter, sipping at his coffee. I nod in his direction, grab a mug and pop a coffee pod into the machine. No messy coffee grounds for Wyatt.

  “I met Mendez yesterday.”

  Wyatt snaps to attention. “You did?” he asks warily.

  “Yeah. I checked out three restaurants for him. They were all clean. I told him I was done helping him.”

  “And?” Wyatt knows there’s more to the story.

  The coffee finishes brewing. I add milk and sugar and take a long sip before replying. “He implied that Seamus Cassidy is in Manhattan.”

  For an instant, Wyatt’s expression is shocked. Then his natural skepticism reasserts itself. “Mendez brought up Seamus Cassidy after you told him you wanted out? Doesn’t the timing strike you as suspicious?”

  “Of course it does.” I give him a steady look. “But if Cassidy is in New York, that explains why Mendez thinks the Westies back in business.”

  “Hmm.” Wyatt considers that carefully. “Wouldn’t your uncle have warned you if Cassidy was out of jail?”

  “Not necessarily.” After my mother had been killed, my uncle had succumbed to his own demons. Even though he’d been part of the mob, he’d been unable to protect his sister and her family. We’d gone into Witness Protection, and the experts had separated us, sending me to America for my protection, and placing him in hiding for his own. I haven’t spoken to him since. “I don’t know how to reach him.”

  “I know I should walk away,” I continue. “The first round of Piper’s contest is next week. Carl’s loaning us Linda to work the front all weekend, but that’s only a temporary solution. We need to hire someone - Kimmie can’t act like a hostess to save her life.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  I grin. Kimmie’s gum chewing drives Wyatt insane. If there was any way he could fire her and still make the finances work, he would. Unfortunately, with an accountant auditing the books on a monthly basis, we can’t afford to fire her. Yet.

  “You said you should walk away. Are you going to?” W
yatt asks.

  I drink my coffee. The idea of letting my grief go is tempting. Last night, I saw what my life could be and it was good, filled with a warm beautiful woman, good food and wine, laughter and happiness. For the first time, I have something to lose.

  Then I hear my mother’s voice, thick with fear, wondering what would happen if the Westies came for us. I see the bodies, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. I shake my head. “I’m going to try and reach my uncle to see if he knows anything about Cassidy. But I’m not ready to walk away. Not yet.”

  * * *

  Piper:

  The insistent ringing of my phone wakes me up. I grope for it, my eyes still closed, and hit the Talk button. “Hello?” I say, my voice thick with sleep.

  “Piper Jackson?” The guy on the other end sounds irritated.

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Josh Lewis. I’m the auditor from Grant & Thornton. I was under the impression I was meeting you at ten this morning, but the restaurant is closed.”

  I sit up, the blanket falling to my waist. “You’re supposed to show up on Tuesday.”

  “No,” he corrects me. “Monday.”

  I’m fairly certain the letter from Grant & Thornton said Tuesday, but I don’t want to argue with the guy who’s about to audit my books. “I’m sorry, I must have got the dates mixed up. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  “Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll find a coffee shop to hang out in until you get here.”

  Damn it. Talk about getting off on the wrong foot. I jump to my feet and look around for my clothes. I find my panties on the floor of Wyatt’s bedroom, and my bra on his dresser. Grabbing them, I get dressed, slipping my sundress over my head. I wish I had time for a shower and a change of clothes, but unfortunately, it’s not in the schedule.

 

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