by Zoey Marcel
“Wait ‘til you see the inside.”
“It’s so beautiful. I feel like a dust-bunny just standing next to it.”
“Don’t. You’re gorgeous.” He put his arm around her and lightly kissed her head.
Like a gentleman, he took the luggage for her and wheeled it behind him while they walked up the steps together.
Holy god, the inside was just as overwhelmingly luxurious. The Great Room in particular took her breath away. The walls were white, with oak beams and vaulted ceilings. A stone fireplace added a homey effect to the grandeur. She adored the wall made up entirely of windows that looked out over the driveway and their land. It made her miss California a bit, while bringing a little piece of home to her at the same time. The house was truly perfect.
The Tuscan-style kitchen made her squeal.
“Oh my god, look at this kitchen. I’ll stay.”
“Really?”
“Maybe.”
René frowned, eyes narrowing in mock disapproval. “Damned tease.”
She grinned and began petting the pretty shinies in the kitchen she already liked to think of as hers. The idea of another woman cooking something in here made her want to beat the wench off with a wooden spoon. Only the thought of someone else sleeping with René riled her more.
“I’m sorry. This is just amazing.”
“The tour’s not over yet.”
Quentin walked in just then. “Ah good, she likes the kitchen. I thought she might.”
“Women always love kitchens like this,” René agreed.
Kendall became somewhat possessive, hoping that comment didn’t mean that other bitches had cooked here before. Their moms or a maid were fine. No girlfriends or hos. She petted the granite counter top. “My kitchen.”
“That’s right, Kendall. All for you,” René said with a loving smile. “Come on. We’ll show you the rest of the house.”
“Oh, goody. Do you live here, too?”
Quentin nodded. “I do. This is the main house all the Huntingtons grew up in.”
“Do they all still live here?”
What if Charlie still lived in this house? She didn’t want him to know she was in town.
“No. Mr. Huntington moved out and lives in another house he had built on this property a few miles east. Shane and Charlie live in another house that they had built several miles to the west,” Quentin explained.
“So it’s just you and René that live here?”
“For now,” René said slyly.
She gave him a playful glare and followed them around on the tour.
Quentin continued. “Mr. Huntington moved out so we could stay here. He didn’t figure it made sense for him to stay all alone in this house, so he had a smaller one built nearby.”
Kendall tried not to sound too interested when she brought up her first boyfriend. She deliberately made it a point to say Shane’s name first instead of Charlie’s so the question sounded casual. “Why don’t Shane and Charlie still live here?”
Guilt slapped her upside the head when she noticed even from behind that René stiffened when she asked about Charlie.
Quentin answered her question, seeming unfazed by it. “Shane is very independent. He lives the BDSM lifestyle twenty-four-seven, and he is very particular about the way he likes things. It raised complications back when their father lived here with them.”
She got a naughty little smile on her face. “You mean he didn’t like coming home to a play scene?”
Quentin grinned. “No. He didn’t. Shane is very brazen about who he is, and he’s pansexual.”
She turned to René. “Your dad doesn’t like that?”
“He’s fine with it,” René replied. “He’s supportive of Shane. Dad’s just very straight and doesn’t want to see him dominating a man. You know, the ‘that’s fine for you, but keep it out of my face’ kind of thing.’“
“Oh, got ya.”
“Charlie moved out with Shane since they were always close,” Quentin said. “Mr. Huntington dragged Justin with him when he built that cabin for himself. He wanted to keep an eye on him.”
René sighed. “Until Justin got himself kicked out of the house.”
“Aw, poor guy.”
The men snorted.
“He’s fine,” Quentin reassured her. “Mr. Huntington got him a nice apartment in town.”
“That was thoughtful of him.”
René led the way up the stairs. “Justin’s had it the easiest out of all of us, probably because he’s not blood. My father’s sister left him here when he was seven. My father and Shane’s and Charlie’s mother raised Justin for our aunt.”
Her heart went out to Justin. “Why did she just dump him off like that?”
“Deanna had issues,” Quentin evaded.
“You ready to see the master bedroom?” René asked her.
Quentin wore a faux scowl. “Not master, just your bedroom.”
René smirked. “Fine, we’ll pretend there isn’t a master bedroom.”
“If Shane ever moves back here, he will throw you out of this room for it since it’s the biggest,” Quentin stated.
René looked at him curiously. “Why would Shane move back in here when he has his own house?”
Quentin didn’t respond to this, but his gaze briefly touched Kendall before darting back over to him.
René peeked at her and then looked at Quentin again, this time with understanding. “Ah.”
She walked into René’s room with both men and took in the sumptuous glory. It looked like a suite in an upscale hotel. The bedspread was hunter-green with gold swirly designs splattered all over it like a royal crest of some kind. The wooden bed looked like mahogany with a matching dresser, armoire, and nightstand in the same dark wood.
“Oh my god, you sleep here?”
“Usually.”
The comment struck a chord of jealousy in her.
“Every now and then I spend the night beneath the stars watching the cattle.”
Sure, that’s what he meant. Quick save, mister.
“It’s lovely.”
She heard the door close and had a hard time fighting off a smile. Quentin stood near it and looked at René expectantly.
René cleared his throat and turned to her. “So, during your stay here, I don’t mind if you want to spend time with Quentin since you two grew so close online.”
She blinked at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “You aren’t gonna be here long, or so you say. It’s only fair that you get to spend time with all the men you’re interested in.”
“That’s generous of you, but it’s not all the men. I only like the two of you.”
Guilt bonked her on the head with its ping pong paddle of remembrance. She really needed to text that other online guy, Justin, to explain to him that she was in a relationship so he could move on and be with someone else if he hadn’t already.
She was with René, and being given a chance to dabble into some light BDSM with Quentin over the next two weeks. That would be enough, and then she would talk René into moving back east with her. It was considerate of him to let her play with Quentin during her vacation here, but why wasn’t he jealous when he claimed to love her?
Maybe he didn’t mind because he knew it was only sex and wanted her to have a good time. She had a feeling when the two weeks were over, that was it. René would embrace monogamy with her...in Manhattan, damn it.
Freakin’ Charlie, on the other hand, had been all about the “You’ll be my wife, but you’ll do your marital duty by my brothers and best friend, too” kind of thing. Actually, he’d worded it with far less class since, evidently, no one had ever introduced him to the concept of tact.
“I’m just glad I’m one of them.” René strode toward her with lazy steps.
Something in his gentle mannerisms always gave her the contentment of a dog lounging in the sun that warmed its soft belly. He made her feel warm inside and gave her peace of mind she could rest in, a
place she felt safe. With René there were no storms, only long summer days of sunshine and seductive heat.
Charlie had been a tempest through and through. He’d been good to her and treated her right, but if she wasn’t living in the storm of the fighting they’d done, she was drowning in the downpour of her undying love for him even when she thought she’d finally had enough. There had been some sweet moments, but the inferno of their passion had been so intense, it overpowered the softer side of romance.
Damn it, Kendall, stop thinking about him. So what if he grew up in this house? Big deal.
She wondered which room he’d slept in as a child before crowding him out of her mind with thoughts of her future. Those thoughts were stomped into oblivion when René took her in his arms and gave her a sweet, intimate kiss she felt deep in her soul.
Quentin turned down the covers and then started undressing her from behind while René had his way with her mouth. When she was nude, she divested René of his clothing while Quentin discarded his.
“What do you think, cher, one of us in your ass and the other in your pussy?”
Her slit dampened and her anus clutched itself. “That sounds wonderful. Can I suck your cock a little first?”
He grinned. “I hold no objection to that.”
She smirked. “Oh good. I was so worried you would.”
He tickled her on their way to the bed. “Lie down the other way so I can lick you at the same time.”
Her stomach tightened with thankful jitters as she and René lay on their sides facing each other, but with their feet near the other person’s head.
Quentin got into bed with them.
She lapped at René’s glans with wet, delicate strokes, savoring his heady moan. Her breathing deepened and came in quicker intakes when he began kissing her between the legs, drawing needy whimpers from her.
Cold slickness made itself known to her back door as Quentin greased her up and plunged his fingers into her tight ring of muscle to stretch her.
She rubbed René’s balls, massaging and squeezing them lightly in her hand while pleasuring him with her mouth. His breathing sounded rough with need as he laved her folds with alarming intensity. Her hormones went ballistic and her clit pleaded against his teasing tongue for the release it craved. He finally gave it to her. Hot ribbons of ecstasy blew gently through her as her muscles fired with energy, locking and releasing repeatedly for several euphoric seconds.
She had to pull off his cock and gasp when she jolted at the end of her finale.
“No good?” he teased.
“It was very good.”
“Then I guess I’m done.”
“Hey, get back to work, mister.”
He chortled.
Quentin kept slicking her up inside while René ate her out. She knew the goal wasn’t to make him come orally this time since they were about to fill her other holes, so she kept her play to teasing and slow, light suction.
She came again, pussy flooding and bubbling over from the pressure like a hot spring he’d come for miles just to witness. Either the climax was more intense this time, or it had the facade of being so, given the dildo lodged in her ass that she clenched on again and again.
When it passed and Quentin deduced that she was primed and loosened enough, the men pulled her between them underneath the covers and they all lay on their sides, heads near the headboard.
“Are you ready for me to be in your ass, Kendall?” Quentin asked.
“Yes, Sir, I’m ready.”
“You don’t have to call me that right now. We’ll get around to that, but good girl for remembering.”
“Except for the part about forgetting to ask permission to come,” René teased.
“But I wanted it.”
He groaned and snuggled closer to her when she pawed gently at his chest to drug him with horny forgetfulness.
Quentin tossed a packet over to René, who tore it open.
“Put this on me, cherie.”
She bent over and placed a scant kiss on the tip of his beautiful penis, making the head bob in response and his breath catch. She sheathed that bad boy up before lying back down next to him. Quentin held her against him and had her lean into the naked enticement of his strong, muscled body while René pushed his suited-up erection into her damp pussy.
They moaned and held each other when he was seated to the hilt inside of her.
Quentin poked around her incredibly sensitive anus with his rubber-clad dick, driving her crazy with want. “Do you like having your asshole rubbed?”
Kendall mewled when he repeated the stroking friction of his cockhead over her puckered hole. “God yes, it feels so good.”
She let out a tormented cry of need when he grazed her asshole over and over again and she had to cling to René for refuge.
Quentin ceased the erotic pseudo-torture and began working himself slowly into her snug rear. It took some gentle coaxing, encouraging words, and deep, deliberate breaths before he was finally packed deep into her bowels. It was only the second time in her life that she’d had anal sex, the first being the night before when René had deflowered her virgin ass. She’d discovered that anal sex was a sexual delicacy not to be missed.
René had a cock to keep a woman more than satisfied, but holy mama, was Quentin hung. His sheer size made the penetration in her ass painful at times, but she found the immense fullness deeply overwhelming in a feel-good kind of way.
The men weren’t as deep in her body as before, or at least Quentin wasn’t. She wondered if this different position had something to do with it.
The bed was king-sized like in the hotels she’d stayed at. Back at home in California, she’d had a full-sized bed, which made her feel like a princess when sleeping in it alone and had been cozy with a partner...until she decided that cuddle time was over and it was time for the clingy oaf to get off her.
With a king-sized bed, one wouldn’t encounter such a problem. One could experience the intimacy of snuggling with their partner and then roll the hell across the mattress to have some space while still sharing the same bed with them. Sleeping in big beds always made her feel like she was on vacation, and right now, she felt like a queen.
The men moved inside her with nice, easy strokes. The depths they reached were shallow in comparison to the night before, but she enjoyed the closeness with them that this position provided. Having the covers pulled over top of them only added to the heat and intimacy they shared, enhancing the irresistible feeling of being trapped between two men while surrounded by linen sheets and the weight of the thick comforter covering them.
She held onto René, making out with him every little bit and at other times groping his hard, strapping chest. It made her feel bad that Quentin wasn’t getting as much attention from her, but really, what the hell was she supposed to do to him when he was back there with his cock plugging her ass? She occasionally reached around to pet his arm or pull it around her more, hoping that he would appreciate the acknowledgment. He responded by caressing her arm or hip and nuzzling her.
The scorching friction their thrusting dicks sparked made her swell inside with delicious heat and agonizing pressure. The build-up finally exploded and she came softly, experiencing one of those gentle, enduring vaginal orgasms that she loved so much, the kind that always made her feel like the man filling her was inside her soul, touching her there, fucking her into a state of complete oneness inside and out. The recurrent waves of warmth made her aching cunt flutter with uncontrollable spasms. Her holes constricted around their cocks, so long and thick, buried deep inside her trembling body.
She buried her face in René’s neck as she whimpered pitifully and cried out softly at the siege of heavenly nirvana overtaking her. He held her close like he understood, but his defeated sounds of passion said he, too, had been overcome by their lovemaking.
Quentin grunted behind her and dug his fingernails into her hard, not enough to break the skin, but just enough to spike her climax with a
light dose of pain that drove a decadent sense of helplessness into her. She shivered and panted for air while the men dug harder and with greater speed into her spasmodic holes. Quivering between them, she melted into their thrusts, absorbing the inevitable pleasure from their deep, determined jabs.
René’s eyes closed when he came and he looked like he was in pain. She knew he wasn’t, but his face was so beautiful and sexy in the throes of release. He shuddered afterward, his harsh breaths fanning over her skin.
“Holy god!” He flailed when she trickled her fingertips over his spent body.
Kendall giggled. “Want me to do it again?”
“Hell no, just let me lie here and look at you.”
She drank in his dark, enticing features and brushed her hand over his cheek when he smiled at her.
Quentin’s final plunges snagged a delighted groan from her that held undertones of pain when he came. His masculine roar resonated through her and gave her satisfaction as a woman that she had pleased these two great men as much as they had made her happy.
The feelings for Quentin that she’d developed during their year-long online correspondence bobbed to the surface when he buried his face in her neck and bathed her in the steamy humidity of his ragged breaths. She’d tried to keep the warm, fuzzy emotions at bay, since it was René she loved, but there were times when it was really hard to deny that she felt something for Quentin, too.
Uh-oh.
Chapter Eleven
Justin peeked up from his cell phone when he saw his coworker, Felicia, walk by. “Hey, Felicia, what’s up?”
“Just waiting to clock on. Texting on the clock again, huh?”
He stood behind the bar, leaning over it. “Well, what else would I be doing?”
“Working.”
“Pfft. I’ll get around to that. The club’s not open yet.”
“How have you been?”
“Okay, I guess. I have two different women I talk to online.”
She snorted. “Oh, you poor thing.”
“I know, right? Do you know how hard it is to juggle two women? If you do, please tell me.” He grinned. “I want to hear all about your lady lovin’.”