Eye Candy

by Tijan

  Bancroft grabs Lex by the back of the neck. “Don’t flirt with my girlfriend unless you want your nose broken, brother.” He’s mostly kidding. Lex and I get along just fine. And I don’t think I’m his type. But then again, I’m not one hundred percent on what his type actually is.

  Lex elbows Bancroft in the side. “I’m not here to steal your woman.” His gaze shifts to Armstrong, who’s busy adjusting Amie’s shirt. “I came for something else.”

  Chapter 2: Hanging

  Amie

  I’m trying to keep my eyes on my glass of wine, but I can feel Lex looking at Armstrong. Or maybe it’s me. Which is understandable, considering I’m not wearing much of anything. Armstrong is annoyed. The way his fingers keep flexing on my side tell me this. His insistence that I change is hint number two. He’s been annoyed since he walked into the bathroom.

  I’m very familiar with Armstrong’s annoyed face. His lips thin until they almost disappear. He’s also on his second scotch. Or maybe it’s his third. I kind of want to keep pushing his buttons to see if it will have the desired impact. Which is me coming back to his place tonight for some sex. It’s Monday, though. He has squash in the morning, so I typically don’t stay over on Mondays. Although, in a few months that’s going to change. When we get married I’ll sleep beside him every night of my life. Hopefully once the stress of the wedding is over and we’re occupying the same living space, we’ll go back to having the same amount of sex we did when we first started dating.

  I played it safe with Armstrong, knowing his family background. We went out six times before we had very sweet, very missionary sex. It was very reminiscent of my first time, although it lasted a little longer.

  “You want to stay for a drink?” Bancroft asks Lexington.

  “No, thanks. I don’t want to crash your party. I just need the Beacon files and I’m off.”

  “What do you need those for?” Bancroft taps the counter as he regards his brother.

  They definitely look related. They’re both tall and broad. If Bancroft is Thor, Lexington is more like Captain America. Lex is a little narrower and maybe an inch or so shorter, but then Bancroft’s previous career as a professional rugby player gave him the build of a superhero. Lex is similar, but in lieu of a head of curls, his dark hair is straight; a crisp part and product keep it tamed. The sides are neatly trimmed and short. He must’ve gotten a haircut recently. It was longer the last time I saw him. Beyond that he has perfectly straight teeth to go with his perfectly straight nose and his manicured nails—yes, I noticed those. And every time I’ve ever seen him he’s been impeccably dressed.

  Armstrong’s hand slides down my hip and cups my ass cheek. His lips are next to my ear. “Sweetheart, you should really consider changing out of this. It’s not appropriate for other men to see you dressed so provocatively.”

  I grit my teeth and say nothing, aware that there’s some kind of tension between Armstrong and Lex. I have no idea what it’s about, but every time Lex is at an event we’re attending, Armstrong does everything he can to avoid him. Unfortunately, under these circumstances that’s not possible. I’m not sure why they don’t like each other.

  Armstrong’s worry over my state of dress seems irrelevant since Bancroft finds whatever files he’s looking for right away. “Sorry for interrupting,” Lex says, then gestures to Ruby. “This is badass, by the way.”

  He shifts his gaze to me and Armstrong, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Amalie, especially after you and Ruby have been playing dress-up.”

  Bancroft coughs and gives him the elbow.

  The smile becomes almost a sneer and Lexington tips his chin at Armstrong. “Later, cousin. We should schedule a round of golf before they close the course for the year.”

  “We should,” Armstrong says tightly.

  “I look forward to beating your ass on the green.”

  Armstrong makes a displeased sound. “Unlikely. I think it’s been proven time and time again that I always come out on top.” He strokes my arm and when he reaches the hem of my shorts he drags his finger along my skin. I shiver.

  What the hell is going on?

  Lex’s smile drops and his eyes narrow, his cheek ticking. “That’s only because you play dirtier than me.”

  Bancroft clears his throat. “You need anything else, Lex?”

  Lex flashes his brother a dark smile and raises the folder before slipping it under his arm. His hands are huge. It must be a Mills man trait. One I’m not sure why exactly I’m noticing. “I got what I came for.”

  As soon as Lex leaves, Armstrong goes back to being his usual self. I really don’t understand what the issue is there, but Armstrong can be very competitive, about pretty much everything. I want to ask what that whole standoff was about, but I don’t think I’m going to get any kind of answer that makes sense, and I don’t want to put a negative spin on the evening, so I leave it alone.

  Twenty minutes after Lex leaves, I change back into my normal clothes and wash all the makeup off my face. Ruby on the other hand stays in her fairy outfit and eats the Italian takeout delicately so as not to mess with her glitter lips. I don’t want to be jealous of my best friend and her relationship, but sometimes I am.

  I have a feeling the second we leave those two are going to get their freak on. And I doubt she’s going to change out of her costume or wash her makeup off.

  I know an awful lot about my best friend’s sex life. In the past I would’ve been just as free with mine. Except ever since I’ve been with Armstrong there’s not as much excitement to share. But then I guess that’s to be expected since I’m settling down. No more Anarchy Amie on the prowl. Not like when we were in high school and college and I went a little wild.

  That kind of reckless free-thinking can’t last forever. And discretion is far more important than hanging-from-the-rafters sex.

  Although we did have a bit of that, back in the beginning. Once we had sex in a coatroom at a huge corporate function. That night I moved from date to girlfriend status. A few months later he took me on a trip to Paris and proposed under the Eiffel Tower with an orchestra playing behind him. It was incredibly romantic. We had a beautiful dinner and then we had sweet engagement sex. That’s what sex with Armstrong is like: sweet and polite.

  Over time I’m sure that will change, that I’ll be able to persuade him to get a little dirty with me. And that he’ll learn what’s guaranteed to make me come. Sometimes I take a long time to orgasm with him, and he gets frustrated. Armstrong likes to be good at everything. So occasionally I fake it and take care of the situation later, after he’s asleep. That’s been happening more frequently as of late, but with the wedding coming up, we’ve both been under stress, so sex has taken a backseat.

  At nine thirty Armstrong calls for the car. He’s been touchier than usual tonight, so maybe if I play it right, I’ll be able to stay at his place and get some relief for the tension that’s been building since Friday.

  I hug Ruby, who’s still dressed in her costume. Her makeup is still nearly perfect. We make plans to have lunch later in the week before Armstrong ushers me out the door and into the elevator. The car is waiting for us when we arrive at lobby level.

  We’ve been in the car for three minutes. I glance at Armstrong, then at the tinted divider. We’re isolated from the driver. He can’t see or hear us. We have at least twenty minutes in the car together, and that’s a conservative estimate based on there not being any traffic. But this is New York. There’s always traffic.

  Armstrong is frowning while checking emails on his phone. I unbuckle my seat belt and slide closer.

  He looks up. “That’s unsafe. You should put your seat belt back on.” Armstrong is very concerned with safety. He drives no more than five miles over the speed limit. Once I drove his car and he nearly had a heart attack. I wasn’t going that fast.

  I drag a fingernail down the side of his neck. “Ivan is a very safe driver. It’s fi
ne.”

  He eyes me. “What’re you doing?”

  “I was thinking, maybe I can come back to your place tonight instead of going home.”

  He appears confused. “But it’s Monday. I have squash in the morning. It’s why you don’t stay over on Mondays.”

  I’m not sure whether to laugh or roll my eyes. “We could live on the edge. You could miss squash tomorrow.”

  “It’s too late for me to cancel, and if you stay neither of us is going to get enough sleep.”

  Always so pragmatic about everything. I sink to the floor with the intention of giving him some incentive for a Monday sleepover.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I go for his belt.

  He glances up at the divider that keeps us separate from the driver. “Amalie, we’re in the car.”

  “I know.” I give him my naughtiest grin and pull down the zipper. Slipping my hand in the fly I find him already semi-hard. It shouldn’t take much to get him excited. I pop a couple of buttons on my blouse and push his boxers down.

  He must’ve decided he’s not so concerned about my safety anymore, because he spreads his legs wider and brushes my hair out of the way. I try to stay in the moment while I’m pleasuring my fiancé, but my mind starts to wander to the Halloween party we may be planning. In my head I start creating the guest list, reviewing cocktail options, whether it will be a seated dinner or just appetizers. Soon enough I’m being given the complimentary warning that an orgasm is imminent.

  Afterward, I crawl up his body, thinking maybe we’ll make out for a bit en route to his place, but he turns his head and gives me his cheek when I go in for a kiss. I make my way over to his mouth, but he keeps turning away. “Oh, no, no. Not after you’ve—” He purses his lips and shakes his head.

  “Not after I’ve what?”

  “You need to brush your teeth first.”

  “What?”

  “You have my cum in your mouth.”

  “I swallowed it.” I stick out my tongue. “See. No cum.”

  He makes another face. This one is disapproving. “Amalie.”

  I straddle his lap and tug on his tie, bringing my lips to his ear. “Come on, Armstrong, I’m horny. I wanna fuck.”

  He puts his hands on my hips and makes another disapproving sound. Dammit. That wasn’t the right thing to say. Armstrong isn’t turned on by my potty mouth, as he calls it. I keep hoping if I say things like that he’s going to turn me over his lap, flip up my skirt, and spank my naughty ass. I should know better. It’s a turn off and I’ve ruined any chance of getting a reciprocal orgasm.

  I mutter an apology and flop down in the seat beside him, buttoning my blouse. I really need to find a way to loosen him up. In addition to the wedding preparation, he’s been under a lot of stress at work with the changes happening at his family’s media empire. They’ve been talking about a merger with a rival corporation. I shouldn’t be upset about this, but after spending an entire evening watching Bancroft and Ruby make sex eyes at each other I’m seriously wound up and in need of some release. Not to mention how territorial Armstrong seemed to become when Lex showed up.

  When Ivan pulls up in front of my apartment building several minutes later I don’t ask about sleeping over again or invite Armstrong up, because he’s already fallen asleep post-orgasm. At least I have the ability to take care of my own problem. God bless the sex toy industry and multiple orgasms.

  Chapter 3: Naughty Girl

  Ruby

  “You know what I need right now?” Bancroft wraps his arm around my waist. He also tries to press his chest against my back, but I’m still wearing the fairy wings, so he can’t get that close.

  “Another glass of scotch?” I’m being snarky. Mostly. Even I opted for a second glass of wine at dinner and I’m not a big drinker.

  “Now that Armstrong is gone I can manage without alcohol.”

  “What does it say about him as a person that no one can deal with him without drinking?”

  “That he’s an asshole.”

  “Who you happen to be related to,” I point out.

  “And who your best friend is going to marry. Can’t you do something about that?” He fiddles with my wings, making them flap against my back. “You’re a fairy, you should be able to make magic happen.”

  “What kind of magic do you think I’m capable of? I can’t tell her not to marry Armstrong just because we don’t want to hang out with him.” I finish washing the last wineglass and set it in the drying rack.

  “What does she even see in him? He’s a pompous dick.” That Bancroft talks this way about his cousin speaks to his absolute disdain. Bancroft doesn’t often have nasty things to say about people without some serious provocation.

  “Well I’m pretty certain his dick is not part of the allure, so I’m at as much of a loss as you are.”

  Bancroft rests his hip against the counter. “Wait a second. What do you know about Armstrong’s dick?”

  I peel off my rubber gloves with a shrug. “Amie said he’s average in the penis department.”

  “You’ve talked about my cousin’s dick?” Bancroft makes a face as if he’s eaten something offensive.

  “Just in the general sense of size.” Prior to dating Armstrong, Amie and I used to share sex stories. I have the disconcerting feeling that he’s not only average in size, he might also be very average in ability, based on the lack of details she provides these days. I’ve tried to temper my sharing so as not to appear as though I’m gloating.

  Bancroft crosses his thick arms over his defined chest. It’s been hours of glances and soft touches. Now that our friends are gone we’re gearing up for playtime. I was extraordinarily careful while I ate dinner so as not to ruin my lipstick. It’s deep purple-pink and sparkly. I think it will look quite hot in smeared marks across Bancroft’s cock. It’s a weird fascination I have. I really like to wear lipstick before I blow him. One of these days I’m going to get the glow-in-the-dark stuff and give him a ghost BJ.

  “Have you talked to Amie about my cock?”

  “Not in great detail, but she’s aware that you’re well above average.” I assess the look on his face. I can tell he’s trying not to smirk at the compliment. Bane knows he’s well-endowed. His cock is like the rest of him, big and beautiful. I pull the plug from the drain and toss the dishcloth on the counter.

  Before I can turn around again Bancroft starts fiddling with my wings as if he’s trying to fold them out of his way. “How do these come off?”

  “They’re attached with snaps.”

  “Well, they need to go. They’re obstructing my ability to rub my huge, hard cock against your ass,” he complains.

  I laugh and turn in his arms. “Wow. You do such a great job embellishing phrases such as ‘above average.’”

  “I was just helping with your descriptive word choices, ‘above average’ sounds boring.”

  “What exactly is your plan once you get the wings off?”

  “Well, since I just spent the last four hours listening to my cousin tell me how awesome he is, I feel like me and my dick deserve to rub against something nice and warm.”

  I run my hands up his chest. “As nice and warm as the inside of my mouth?”

  Bancroft’s gaze drops to my glittery lips. “That would be an excellent place to start.”

  “I think so, too.” I slip his belt free from the clasp. Bancroft braces his hands on the counter, eyes on my fingers, as I pop the button. The head of his erection strains against the elastic waist of his boxer briefs, which barely contain him.

  I pull the band back and peek inside. I bite my lip—gently so as not to mess with my glitter lips—and glance up at him, skimming the slit with my finger. A bead of wetness pools there. I lift my finger and bring it to my mouth, carefully sucking the tip. Bancroft groans when I slip it back out, a deep purple-pink ring and some glitter now decorating it.

  “For fuck’s sake, Ruby.”
>
  I slip my hand under his tie, fisting it to pull him down to meet my mouth. I bite his bottom lip, dragging my tongue across the smooth skin. At the same time I reach into his underwear and wrap my hands around his hot, hard cock.

  Until Bancroft, I hadn’t really been a huge fan of the blowjob. I mean, sure, if I was in a relationship I’d bite the BJ bullet because to get oral you have to give it. But Bancroft turns it into quite the event. And the lipstick thing adds a strangely erotic twist. Also, he loves them. And watching his face when I’m on my knees, or in a variety of other positions, is enough to keep me coming back for potential lockjaw.

  As I pull back he wipes at my bottom lip, purple-pink and glitter staining his fingertip. “Should we get this off first?”

  I shake my head.

  He rubs his fingers together. “Isn’t it going to stain? It seems to be on pretty good.”

  I drop to my knees. “That’s what makeup remover is for.”

  We’re right in front of the sink. My knees hit the padded mat he put there so he can hump me from behind when I’m doing dishes. It’s supposed to be good for your back. The mat, not the humping.

  I shimmy his pants and boxers over his hips until his erection juts out. Bancroft wraps his fist around it and strokes a couple of times. I run my hands up under his shirt, sighing as my fingers pass over the hard ridges. I wait until he angles his erection down before I press a tiny kiss to the tip, leaving glitter behind.

  “Fuck, babe. You’re killing me here.”

  I grin, because of course this is ultimately my plan; to give him a killer blow job that he will repay in kind with some amazing oral of his own. And then he’ll get inside me and fuck as many orgasms out of me as he can. He often treats sex like a rugby match—the more I come the better his mental running score.

  I kiss all the way along his shaft, leaving lip prints. He’s quick to unbutton his cufflinks and loosen his tie enough to get it over his head. The top button of his shirt pings on the hardwood in his zeal, but then he’s yanking his shirt over his head and the thin white tee underneath follows, revealing his glorious chest.