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 14

by Tara Crescent


  Maisie gives George Nicolson an irritated look. “George,” she says archly, “I’ve worked really hard on this contest. Can we preserve the element of surprise?” She turns to me, and her face softens into a smile. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag. A well-deserved win, Chef Jackson. Congratulations.”

  * * *

  Before I go back to the kitchen, I need to stop at two more tables. First, I make my way to my parents. “Mom, thank you so much for your help tonight,” I say gratefully. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  She smiles at me. “I was happy to help, dear.”

  “How was the food?” I ask my dad. There’s no point asking my mother — she ordered a salad. Lillian Jackson doesn’t believe in eating.

  “Very tasty,” he says gruffly. “You’ve done a good job with Vera’s place.” I’m about to thank him for the compliment, when he frowns. “I still think you’re wasting your time in the kitchen though.”

  I should have known. “I’m happy,” I say simply, my smile wry. “The restaurant is doing well. This is what I want for my life.”

  He snorts. “Dessert?” I ask quickly, hoping to end this conversation. My dad has a sweet tooth. “There’s a really good cheesecake on the menu.”

  My father looks up. “I know you’re changing the topic,” he says, “but the cheesecake sounds excellent.”

  I signal Petra and give her the order, then I head to the table by the front window, where my friends are seated. “Piper,” Bailey exclaims, jumping up to hug me. “I think that’s the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

  Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Sure,” he says dryly. “Break my heart, Bailey, why don’t you?” He smiles at me. “Really good food,” he says. “A couple of my chefs went to eat at the competition today, and they weren’t impressed. I’d be shocked if you don’t make it to the next round.” He grins. “If you ever want a job…”

  Wyatt clears his throat pointedly. “Hands off our chef, Seb,” he warns. “We’re not letting her go.”

  Katie and Adam chuckle. “Guys,” Wendy says, leaning forward, her glass raised in the air. “Fight over Piper later. For now, let’s just drink to her. Here’s to Piper.”

  Katie hands me a glass of wine so I can join in. We all clink glasses, and I take a sip. This is a great end to a very chaotic day.

  * * *

  I change my opinion once I head back to the kitchen. Owen and Kevin have started to clean up. I shake my head. “No, no, Owen,” I protest. “No cleaning for you. You were just filling in for Josef. The place is emptying out. Why don’t you head to the front, and I’ll finish up here and join you?”

  Now that the trials of the day are over, I can’t wait to see how Wyatt and Owen are going to react when they see my surprise. I’m grinning in anticipation of their reaction when Kevin clears his throat. “Chef Jackson,” he says, sounding unusually tentative. “Can I have a word?”

  His voice alerts me that something’s wrong. I snap my head up and look at him. “What’s the matter, Kevin?”

  “It’s about the gravy.” He looks unhappy. “When Josef set fire to that pan, I was afraid that he’d messed up the gravy, so once he left, I tasted it.”

  I hear the loud hum of the vacuum cleaner. It appears that Kimmie’s actually cleaning up without being asked. Will wonders never cease? “And?” I ask Kevin, trying not to sound impatient. It’s been a long day. I’m ready for it to be over.

  He gives me a grim look. “It wasn’t over-salted, Chef. It was fine.”

  “What are you saying, Kevin?” Blood pounds in my ears and a chill runs up my spine. If Josef didn’t mess up the gravy, someone else did, and that can only be…

  “Somebody sabotaged you, Chef.” Kevin straightens his shoulders and looks at me squarely. “This wasn’t an accident.”

  29

  The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched — they must be felt with the heart.

  Helen Keller

  Piper:

  For a minute or two after Kevin leaves, I stand in the kitchen, completely frozen by his revelation.

  I have to tell Owen and Wyatt. We need to figure out who wants to hurt Piper’s chances in this contest.

  My first instinct is to talk to them right away, but I reconsider. It’s been a long day for all of us. Wyatt’s still coping with the emotional impact of his father showing up at the restaurant. Owen stepped into the breach when I threw Josef out, and has cooked a long shift. We all deserve some down time.

  I’ll tell them tomorrow. Tonight should be a night of celebration.

  * * *

  The restaurant’s empty when I go to the front. Kimmie’s nowhere to be seen. Petra’s counting out her tips, looking pleased. “Great job tonight,” I tell her. “Thank you.”

  She smiles. “Thank you, Chef.” She clears her throat. “I know I just work the dinner shift now,” she says, “and Kimmie covers lunch. But Donny starts first grade in the fall. I’ll be available to work the lunch shift as well, if you need me.”

  I like Petra. She’s punctual, neat and tidy, and she’s knowledgeable about the food we serve, unlike Kimmie, who forgets what the specials are as often as she remembers them. “I’ll keep it in mind,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back. If all goes to plan, I’ll need to hire Petra and possibly another waitress to cope with the rush.

  I walk over to Wyatt and Owen. Both of them are holding a glass of wine, and they raise their glasses when they see me. “Was one of you vacuuming?” I demand. “That’s not your job, you know.”

  Owen points to Wyatt with a shrug, and I shut up. Wyatt cleans when he’s tense. I’m hoping to offer a different kind of stress relief tonight.

  Wyatt ignores my comment about cleaning. “Excellent job tonight, Piper,” he says warmly. “Everyone loved the food. At one point, you had a line out the door.”

  “I did? A line?”

  Owen grins and pours me a glass of wine. “Forget the line,” he says. “Tell us about the surprise.”

  I wink at them, sipping my drink. I’ve never had two guys so eager to find out what I have planned. It feels really good.

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll show you.” I wave at the window. “Can you lower the blinds though? I don’t want to be seen from the street.”

  “Sexy lingerie?” Wyatt sits up, his eyes sparkling. “Bring it on.”

  I bite back my grin. They think I’m making all this fuss for lingerie? Oh, they are about to be very, very surprised.

  * * *

  Five minutes later, I walk out of the washroom. Though I’ve been practicing since Tuesday, walking with the butt plug feels very weird. It’ll be worth it though, just to see the looks on their faces.

  “Nice outfit,” Wyatt says, looking at my short black skirt and my black tank-top. “Very sexy.”

  I swirl and the skirt flares out. The two of them swallow as they realize I’m not wearing any underwear. “Fuck,” Owen groans. “Come and sit on my lap, baby.”

  I shake my head. “You’re missing the best part of this outfit.” My cheeks blaze with heat as I force the next words out. “Do you want to see?”

  “Yes.” Their replies are instantaneous. “Absolutely.”

  I’m wearing the jeweled butt plug today. It’s made of glass and is the heaviest of the plugs I’ve worn in the last two days. I can feel it inside me as I move, and the weight of it is turning me on. But best of all is the sparkling gemstone in the handle, blood red in color.

  Today, I don’t care about well-behaved Southern women. I sashay forward and bend over the table. “Lift my skirt up,” I suggest.

  Both of them gasp when they see my backside. “Fuck me,” Owen says softly.

  “Is that a butt plug?” Wyatt asks, sounds astonished.

  “It is.” I’m glad I’m facing the table and can’t see their faces, otherwise I’m not sure I’ll be able to continue my speech. “I want you both. I’ve never had anal sex before, but I thou
ght I’d start planning for it.”

  A beard prickles at the curve of my ass. Wyatt. His lips graze against my cheeks, his touch soft. “Every single time I think I have a read on you, Piper Jackson, you do something that blows me away.”

  “Does it hurt?” Owen asks, sounding raw with need.

  “Not really,” I reply. “I bought a training kit. The one I wore on Tuesday was narrower. This is the widest one.”

  “Piper, if you keep talking, I’m going to explode all over you like a teenage boy.” Wyatt sounds like he’s teetering at the edge of control. His voice dips lower, and the promise in it causes me to shiver. “Do you want me to fuck you here? At your restaurant? Knowing that Josef, Kimmie, and Petra have keys and can come in at any time?”

  “Or do you want us in a bed?” Owen asks.

  Could I have both?

  It’s been a long day. The hint of danger that someone might walk in on me stirs sharp lust in my body, but the temptation of being sandwiched between their hard bodies on a soft bed is too much to resist. “The bed,” I choose.

  “Then stand up.” Wyatt’s voice is commanding. “Let’s go.”

  A loud knock at the door causes me to jump. A woman’s voice calls out. “Hello, is anyone there?”

  Shit. “Deal with it,” I hiss at Owen and Wyatt. “I’ll go change.”

  Owen shakes his head, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh no, my pretty little chef,” he says, “You don’t get to change. I want you to answer the door, just as you are right now.”

  I give him a worried look. He winks at me as the knock sounds again. “Damn it. You’re really going to make me do this?”

  “We’re not making you do anything,” Wyatt says. “You want to. We’re just holding a mirror up to your desires.”

  He’s absolutely right. It was my desire to explore my needs that made me go shopping for a butt plug, that made me wear it at the restaurant to tease Owen and Wyatt. Having come this far, I’m not about to back down. I walk toward the door, adding a sway to my hips as I do, knowing that Owen and Wyatt’s eyes are glued to my ass. “We’re closed,” I say as I open the door.

  Maisie Hayes is standing outside. “I know you are,” she says apologetically. “I can’t find my cell phone anywhere, and I’m wondering if I’ve left it here.” She notices Wyatt and Owen. “Hey,” she greets them, sounding surprised. “You guys are here late.”

  Wyatt holds up his glass of wine. “We were celebrating Piper’s victory.”

  “Ah.” Her gaze is knowing as she looks at the three of us. “Of course. Sorry for interrupting.”

  This is awkward. “Let me look in the lost and found box,” I say hastily. “If one of our waitresses found your phone, that’s where they’d put it.”

  I go to the register. Sure enough, there’s an iPhone there. I lift it up in the air. “Is this it?”

  “Yes,” Maisie says, her relief obvious. “Thank heavens. I’m a blogger,” she says wryly. “You have no idea how naked I feel without my phone.” She takes it from me with a smile of thanks. “Great job again tonight.”

  There’s a gleam in Owen’s eyes. “Yes,” he says smirking at my slyly. “The restaurant was absolutely filled tonight, wasn’t it?”

  Wyatt’s lips twitch. “Absolutely. I’d say the kitchen was stretched to the max. Don’t you think, Piper?”

  I glare daggers at both of them. Maisie clears her throat. “Right then,” she says, her voice amused, “I’m going to take off now.”

  When she leaves, I turn on them. “Seriously?” I ask them. “Butt plug puns? Are you teenagers?”

  Wyatt’s eyes twinkle with mirth. “That was fun.”

  “She knows something’s up,” I moan. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Why would it?” He frowns. “I’m an adult. My dating preferences are none of anyone’s business.”

  “People will gossip.”

  Owen snorts. “Piper, we are, at best, minor celebrities in a city that’s teeming with them. We’re hardly gossip worthy. Besides, who cares? I can’t live my life based on what other people are going to think.”

  I wish I had their attitude. “Shall we leave?” I ask them. “I’ll just remove the plug and lock up?”

  “Nope.” Wyatt overrules me, his voice smooth as silk. “Oh no, Piper. We’re going to slide into a cab, and that plug is going to sink even deeper in your bottom. Every pothole we hit, you’ll feel it in your core. That’s what you want, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. I’m going to be a soaked mess by the time I get to their place, but I don’t care.

  * * *

  We go to Wyatt’s place. They lead me to the bathroom and run a shower for me. When I thank them, Owen shakes his head. “I’ve been standing in front of a stove for four hours,” he grimaces. “I smell like stale oil and chicken fat. I’m being selfish here, Piper.”

  I watch with wide eyes as they remove their clothes. I thought I got my fill last time, but I was wrong. Their muscles ripple as they disrobe, and the trail of hair on their abdomens draws my gaze lower. Their cocks jump as they step out of their briefs. “I’m flattered,” I quip cheekily, fighting my urge to blush.

  Owen chuckles, a low, sensual sound. “It’s your turn, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes gleaming with lust. “Step out of that short skirt and bend over again.”

  I take off my top instead, and Wyatt shakes his head. “Piper,” he says, stepping up behind me, and pulling my hands behind my back. “I thought Owen was quite clear.”

  Tension fills me at his words. Wyatt’s expression softens when he sees my anxiety. “Anytime you say no,” he whispers against my ear, “we stop. That’s a promise.” His mouth nibbles at my earlobe and my nerves are replaced by a rush of arousal. The shower runs in the background, gallon after gallon of warm water pouring down the drain, and I’m too lost in the haze of my lust to pay attention to it.

  Owen stalks in front of me, his eyes heating with desire as he draws near. “Hold her for me, Wyatt,” he says. In the position Wyatt has me in, my breasts jut out almost lewdly, but Owen seems to appreciate the view. He bends his blond head to my nipples, and pulls an erect bud between his teeth.

  Warmth floods my body at his bite. I press back against Wyatt, who inhales sharply in response. “You like that, don’t you, Piper?” His fingers close around the base of the plug, and he tugs gently until my anal ring yields to the pressure. “Do you feel your muscles stretch?” His breath tickles my ear. “They’re going to stretch around our cocks tonight, Piper. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  Owen kisses the side of my throat. “You’re so bold tonight,” he marvels. “Wrap your fingers around my dick. Show me what you want.”

  If I give in to my need, we’re never going to make it to bed. “Shower first,” I say, groaning as I grip the velvety steel of Owen’s shaft. “Then I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Is that so?” Owen slides open the shower door. “In that case, step in, Piper.”

  I almost moan with lust at the sheer magnificence of that shower. Sharp, hot needles of water pound on my flesh, massaging aches and pains I didn’t know I had. Two shower heads on either side of the stall ensure that there’s not a single cold spot in the space. “I might never leave,” I sigh.

  Wyatt’s lips twitch. He unhooks the hand-held shower attachment from its spot on the wall, and he approaches me with intent. “Part your legs for me, baby,” he urges. “Put one leg up on the ledge.” With a wicked grin, he turns the attachment on and directs the spray of water right at my clitoris.

  “Aah.” My knees buckle. Owen’s arms wrap around my waist, holding me immobile. “I want to watch you come,” Wyatt says. “I want to hear you scream, Piper.”

  He shifts the angle of the stream of water, and I gasp, standing on tiptoe to ease the pressure on my core. I don’t build to my orgasm, I hurtle toward it, helpless to resist. I try to twist away, but Owen stops me. “No,” he says firmly. “Don’t move. Don’t pull
away.” His fingers tug at my nipples; his lips rain kisses down on the curve of my shoulder. Wyatt watches, his nostrils flared, as my release claims me, but he doesn’t move his hand away. The water still pounds in relentless jets at my sated clitoris. “Stop,” I beg. “Please.”

  “So soon?” Wyatt sounds a little disappointed. “Are you sure you don’t want another orgasm or two?”

  “I’m saving my energy for your cocks,” I tell him. “But if you don’t want that…”

  They grin. “Well played, Piper Jackson,” Wyatt congratulates me, shaking his head ruefully. “Very well played.”

  They lather soap all over my body and shampoo every strand of my hair. I’m purring like a contented kitten by the time they are done. I shiver as they towel me off, though I’m not cold. Far from it. I’m hot with desire; I’m burning with need.

  We stumble to Wyatt’s king-size bed, covered in pristine white, cotton sheets whose thread count is so high the fabric feels like silk against my skin. The butt plug has been in my ass for the better part of an hour and I’m getting used to it. Part of me is anxious about the anal sex tonight. The other part is almost trembling with excitement.

  Wyatt tilts his head to one side. “I’m assuming you’ve noticed,” He says, “that I like to be in charge.”

  “You?” I keep my voice innocent and flutter my eyelashes at him. “A control freak? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Control freak, am I?” His eyes dance with amusement. “Sometimes, I like to take charge in bed.”

  Anal sex and dominance, all in one night. My horizons are being widened. Whatever well-behaved Southern women are supposed to do, this isn’t it. And I don’t care.

  Perhaps Wyatt mistakes my anticipation for apprehension, because he’s quick to reassure me. “I’m not going to do anything intense,” he promises. “Want to try it?”

 

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