by HELEN HARDT
“Then at least we tried,” Brian said. “Right now, we’re both suffering. Maybe one of us doesn’t have to suffer.”
Oh, God. She didn’t want them suffering. Her heart nearly broke at the thought. Should she tell them she was in love with both of them? How would they react?
She shook her head. She was fucked. Utterly, completely, totally fucked. What to do?
“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “If you’re really serious about this—”
“Oh, we’re serious, honey,” Jon said.
“Okay. Then I’ll spend an evening with each of you. Go out on a date, stay in, whatever you want to do. Tomorrow’s Friday. We could start then.”
That was the only way. Maybe she’d realize she loved one of them more than the other. Someone would get left out in the cold, but what could she do? Either that or reject them both, and then all three of them would be miserable.
“That work for you, Bri?” Jon asked.
The other man nodded. “Sure. So who’s first?”
Jon pulled some loose change out of his pocket. “We flip a coin.”
“How original,” Eve said.
“Hey, it works.” Brian smiled and turned to Jon. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”
“Ha-ha.” Jon flipped a quarter in the air. “Call it.”
“Heads,” Brian said.
Jon caught the coin and flipped it over to the back of his hand. “Heads it is.” He showed them both the results. “Tomorrow night, honey, you’re with Bri. The night after, it’s my turn.”
Eve plunked her elbows on the table and cupped her head in her hands. At the same time, her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed. What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Two
Eve inhaled the spicy scent of tomato, garlic, and basil as Brian set the table with the Italian takeout he’d brought home.
“So where’d Jon go off to tonight?” she asked.
“Don’t know. But he agreed to give us the night. And I’m leaving tomorrow.” He smiled, and his emerald eyes sparkled.
Her heart skipped. “Yeah? Where are you going?”
“I’m staying at Anna’s.”
“Oh.” Jealousy speared Eve like a knife.
Brian and Anna, his best piano student, were friends, nothing more. Of course, two days ago, Eve and Brian had been only friends. Anna was blond and lithe—supermodel gorgeous—and a gifted pianist to boot.
His lips curled into a saucy grin. “That bother you?”
Eve’s cheeks warmed. “Of course not.”
“Good, because it’s not like that with Anna and me. I love you, Eve. No one else.”
The warmth in her cheeks turned to flame. She wanted to return his sentiment. Looking at him, basking in his kind affection, she knew she loved him. Could love only him. Could find true happiness with him alone.
Yet if Jon were there she’d be thinking the same thoughts. She’d been down this road before and it always led to the same place. She was perfectly happy and in love with Brian when they were alone. And she was perfectly happy and in love with Jon when they were alone. What the hell was the matter with her?
“Smells good,” she said.
“I know you love Italian. This is from a little place I discovered a few weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to take you there.”
“Why didn’t we go tonight?”
“Because I want to be alone with you tonight, sweetheart.” He finished setting out the food and uncorked a bottle of Chianti Classico. “Bruschetta. Penne arrabiata. Veal piccata. And dark chocolate gelato for dessert. I hope you like it.”
All her favorites. How well he knew her. “It’s lovely, Bri. Thank you.”
Brian poured two glasses of Chianti, handed one to Eve, and clinked his glass to hers. “To tonight.”
She smiled. “To tonight.” The peppery wine warmed her mouth.
As she licked her lips, Brian took her glass from her and set it on the table next to his own. With slow, deliberate care, he cupped her cheek and lowered his lips to hers.
Their mouths melded together in a numbing kiss. A promise of more to come. He nibbled across her upper lip, tongued the corner of her mouth. Brian didn’t tease. He dived in and took. Her blood boiled and she parted her lips. He plunged his tongue inside and wrapped it around hers. Her knees gave out. Strong arms coiled around her, steadied her.
She let out a soft sigh. Her first kiss with Brian. It was so much better than she’d ever imagined. He swept into her mouth and ravaged her as though he were pounding out a concerto on the piano. She’d often wondered whether Brian’s kisses would be piano or forte.
Forte. Oh, so forte.
His full pink lips clamped around her tongue and sucked it deep. Open-mouthed and wet, the kiss was urgent, provocative. When he ripped his mouth from hers and nibbled on her neck, she inhaled a much needed breath.
“How do you think I like to fuck, Eve?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you think I like it slow and gentle?”
She shuddered and shook her head. His kiss had told the tale. “Fast, Bri. You like to fuck hard and fast.”
“Hard and fast, sweetheart. I want to sink my cock into your pussy hard and fast.”
“God.” Eve trembled against Brian’s muscled way too-clothed body. “Our dinner…”
He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Our dinner. I’m going to feed you, baby. And I want you to think about that kiss. And about that hard, fast fuck.” He nipped her earlobe.
An inferno raged in her body. She’d think of nothing else. When he let her go and held out her chair for her, she sat quickly and took a long gulp of her Chianti. The clatter of dinner plates chimed in her ears as Brian fumbled in the kitchen.
In a few minutes, he returned with three dishes. He set a plate of pasta in front of her and a plate of toasted Italian bread and tomato bruschetta between them. He sat down, not across from her, but next to her. She locked her gaze on his musician’s hands as he spread some of the tomato, basil, and garlic mixture atop a slice of bread. She inhaled the fresh fragrance. “Mmm.”
“I know you love your bruschetta, sweetheart.” He held it out to her. “Here. Take a bite.”
The piquant flavors exploded across her tongue. “Jeez, Bri, that’s fantastic.” She licked her lips.
“Good?”
“The best.”
“Mmm. Let me try.” He leaned forward and licked the corner of her mouth.
God, she was on fire again. How was she going to get through this evening without fucking him silly? Had to be fair. Fair to Jon. If she fucked Bri, she’d have to… Oh God…
Distraction. She needed a distraction. She cleared her throat and prepared another piece of bruschetta. “Here, Bri.”
She held it out to him and he took a large bite, chewed and licked his lips. Her heart pounded. How did he manage to make eating look sexy as hell?
“It’s great,” he said. “Though I preferred to eat it off you.”
Heat slid to her pussy. The smoky aroma of roasted tomatoes and peppers in the arrabiata sauce tickled her nose. Spicy Italian cuisine and spicy hot man? A delicious combination. Brian poked his fork into the penne arrabiata and held it to Eve. She swallowed, letting the zesty flavor coat her tongue and throat.
“You eat like you dance.” Brian winked. “You give it your all. You savor each taste and texture. I love to watch you eat. Just like I love to watch you dance.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m thinking about opening a dance school.” Shit, she was babbling. “I could open a small studio and teach part-time for now. Then full-time after I’m done performing.”
“Done performing? What are you talking about?”
“Performers grow old quickly, you know. I’ve probably only got ten good years left as a dancer.”
“Old? You’re twenty-five, Eve. You light the world on fire with every shimmy, every flutter. Don’t ever stop dancing.”
She laughed. “No one wants to watch an old lady shake her booty.”
&nbs
p; “You think thirty-five will be old?”
“In the dance world, yeah, thirty-five is old. That’s when dancers start to get face lifts and tummy tucks. Frankly, I don’t want to do any of that.”
He smiled his gorgeous smile. “You have the sexiest belly I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. But then, you already know how I feel about your belly. About all of you.”
She let out her breath in a whoosh and shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe what?” “This. All of this. That you love me. That Jon loves me.”
Brian tensed at the mention of Jon. Just slightly, but Eve noticed the cords in his neck tighten. Eve noticed everything about Brian.
“Tell me something.” He took a sip of wine. “What do you love about dancing?”
“You know why I dance, Bri. We’ve talked about it a million times. The same reason you play. We’re artists. The dance calls to me.”
“You’re right.” He took a bite of pasta and swallowed. “I guess what I really want to know is”—he hedged a little—“do you ever dance for…me?”
Her nipples burned through her bra. Did she dance for him? Only all the time. “Yeah. I dance for you.” And for Jon, but that was better kept to herself right now. “Every time, Brian.”
His eyes simmered. “That’s why I play piano, did you know that? I play for you. You’re in every note, every melody.” He brushed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Every beat of every rhythm.” He traced her jawline with sensual precision. “And every beat of my heart.”
Chills skittered across her skin. Her heart thundered. “Brian, that’s the sweetest, most tender thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“I love you, Eve. I knew it was wrong. I knew our agreement. But I can’t help it. I see you every day. I watch how you take care of Jonny and me. And this place. You give your all to us, just like you give your all to dancing.” He chuckled and dropped his gaze to her plate of pasta. “To eating.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands. “How could I not fall in love with you?”
Her insides turned to mush, and a pang of longing shot through her. She loved this man so fucking much. “Oh, Brian.”
He pulled her face to his in a crushing kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, swept over every crevice. It was a forceful, demanding kiss. A kiss from a man who knew exactly what he wanted.
Her. He wanted her. And God help her, she wanted him. Wanted to fuck him hard. Fuck him fast. Fuck him all night long. She summoned every last drop of strength she possessed and ripped her mouth from his. “The rest of our dinner—”
“Can wait.” He drew a ragged breath. “Do you want me, Eve? Do you want to make love with me?”
Heavens, yes. More than she wanted to breathe. She nodded, her lips too numb to form the word.
“I want to play for you.”
She nodded again. Lips still weren’t working.
“Then will you dance for me? Dance for me, and then fuck me? Ride my cock and flutter your belly while I suck on your sweet nipples?”
“My nipples…” They stabbed at the lace of her bra. Would he suck her nipples hard? Like he kissed?
“Yeah, your nipples, sweetheart. I dream about them. Did you know that? I dream about kissing every inch of you. Of sucking your pussy, fucking you in the ass. Did you know I like to fuck a woman in the ass?”
“I…I…”
“You ever done that before, Eve?”
Her skin ignited. Tingles shot from her nerve endings to her cunt. “No, Bri. I haven’t.”
“Maybe you’ll let me fuck you there someday.” He trailed his fingers down her arm, to her hip, and cupped her mound through her jeans. “Are you wet right now?”
Sopping, most likely. Her nipples strained against her turquoise tank. She was certain they were poking Brian’s chest like mini torpedoes.
“I thought about going slow with you.” He pressed moist kisses to her bare shoulders. “You smell great. Just like cinnamon. Then I decided, this is my one shot. My one shot to show you who I am. What it would be like for you to be with me, sweetheart. I love you. And I want you to know me.”
“Yes, Bri. I want to know you. I do.”
He pulled away, but only slightly. Enough to glue his gaze to hers. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Evonna Costello.”
“They’re plain old gray.”
“They’re silver. Silver with dark blue flecks. I could drown in them. I dream of drowning in them.”
“Bri…”
He cupped her face in his palms, scorching her cheeks. “Come to bed with me?”
Her legs shook, and her pussy quivered. She nodded. She had to. She’d become a slave to his desires at some point. A willing slave, and she wanted this as much as he did.
Brian took her hand. Anticipation rocked through Eve. She was really going to do it. She was going to sleep with Brian. Beautiful, artistic Brian. Perhaps he was the one. They had much in common, both being artists. Brian had always been so gentlemanly, well-mannered. But his kiss had been anything but gentle. Primal, urgent, full of raw power. Forte. His fucking would be the same.
Oh, to be fucked hard and fast. Her pussy pulsed. She hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in months. He led her not to his bedroom, though, but to the front room, which housed his baby grand piano, a television, and a sofa. Nothing more fit with the large instrument. Eve did her own rehearsing at a nearby dance studio where she rented space.
“I-I thought you wanted to go to bed.”
“Mmm, I do. More than you know. But remember? I want to play for you. And I want you to dance for me.”
“There isn’t room in here. Besides, you’ve seen me dance thousands of times.”
He grinned. “Not naked.”
Her nipples hardened to marbles. Naked? The thought had possibilities. His fingers brushed over her shoulder, down her arm, lighting sparks that catapulted to her core. His hands trailed up her back and expertly unclasped her bra through the cotton of her tank. She sucked in a breath as he lifted her tank and bra off in one graceful motion.
His gaze burned into her breasts. “Beautiful, sweetheart, just like I knew you’d be.” He cupped her full mounds and thumbed her erect nipples. “I’m so hard right now, Eve. So hard for you.”
Ripples of desire washed through her. She arched into his hands. He pinched her nipples, twisted them. Hard, just as she knew he would. So fucking good.
“God, Bri.”
“You like that, baby?”
She nodded and her heart pounded.
“Perfect nipples. Perfect breasts.”
“I-I thought Jon was the boob man.” She gasped. “Oh!”
Brian’s fingers tensed on her flesh for a moment, and then he relaxed. “It’s okay. Just don’t mention him again.”
Regret swept through her. She didn’t want to hurt Brian. “I’m sorry. This is your night.”
He lowered his head. “I hope, in the end, all the nights with you will be mine.” He clamped his firm lips around one nipple and tugged.
Forte. So good. Brian charged right in and seized what he wanted. Not gentle. Never gentle. Hard. Intense. Ferocious.
As he sucked, Eve was vaguely aware of him working the snap and zipper of her jeans. When the fabric slid down her hips, her thighs, below her knees, she kicked off her clogs and stepped out of her clothes. She stood, completely nude, a gorgeous man kissing her nipples, biting them, sending coils of raw energy to her throbbing pussy. Moisture coated her inner thighs.
As if he’d read her mind, he slid one hand across the slope of her breast, down her waist, over her hips, and slipped two fingers into her slick folds. He released her nipple. “Sweet God, you’re wet, Eve.” He pinched her labia together, massaged her clit. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
She understood his need. She shared it. But he’d asked her to dance, and dance she would. “That feels so good, Bri. D-Do you still want to play? For me to dance?”
“Mmm, I sure do. I want you to dance for
me. Only for me. Naked. Lots of flutters, baby.”
“But first you’ll play for me?”
He didn’t smile. Simply gripped her shoulders and gazed at her with fiery eyes. “I always play for you, Eve.” He said no more as he, still fully clothed, his jeans bulging at the crotch, took his seat on the black lacquered piano bench. His slender fingers stretched across the keys, and music drifted into the room. A lazy melody.
Eve sat next to him, the bench cool on her bare ass. Yet she was warm. So warm. The solid heat of Brian next to her consumed her. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The music wafted around her, and she breathed deeply. His musky male scent shimmered into her.
“I love your music, Bri.”
“I love you,” he murmured. “Dance for me?”
She nodded against his hard muscle and then rose from the bench. He launched into a slow Arabic tune. So he wanted slow. She could do slow. The small area she had to work with would lend itself well to slow.
She closed her eyes, let the rhythm saturate her. Her hips glided into figure eights. When she was one with the music, she opened her eyes. Brian didn’t watch the keys. His smoldering gaze rested on Eve, and she slid into a full body undulation, her muscles responding to the notes. She swayed, swept up her long chestnut locks, and gyrated her hips in slow spirals. She released her hair and bowed forward, sweeping her body in an arc before she stood tall again and circled her chest. Her nipples poked forward, begging for attention, and without thinking she slid her hands around the rosy flesh of her breasts, cupped them, and plucked the two hard nubs.
“God, baby.” Brian’s playing never faltered as he watched, groaned.
Eve smiled to her audience of one. One of the only two who had ever mattered. She jiggled her legs to produce a hip shimmy and then, with a wink, she tensed her diaphragm and gave him a flutter.
The movement required a lot of power, a lot of energy, but Brian was worth it. She fluttered and fluttered, stopping and taking a breath as necessary, her body heating further. Need. Raw, aching need. As the muscles moved rapidly, she glided one hand over her belly to her triangle of mahogany curls and dipped a finger into her own juices.