Sebastian makes a face. “They should hold on to their children, this is just a simple stir-fry. It bears no resemblance to anything on my restaurant's menu.”
Daniel joins me at the kitchen table. In the apartment I shared with Trevor, we had a narrow table in the kitchen, with two barstools that were designed to fit underneath the tabletop. It had enough room for two plates and two glasses of water, and absolutely nothing more. But in New York’s real estate market, even that had felt like luxury.
Not here. Daniel’s table is large enough to seat six people. The rich, I’m rapidly discovering, live very differently from the rest of us.
“Can I get you a drink, Bailey?” he asks me. “Vodka, wine, beer, something else?”
As much as I’d like to do a shot of vodka to ease my nerves, I think I should stay relatively sober. “Beer, please.”
He opens a bottle and pours the beverage into a glass for me, grabbing one for himself at the same time. At the stove, Sebastian takes a drink from his own beer while adding a bunch of spinach to the wok, moving the leaves around to wilt them. His movements are sure and unhurried, and watching him, my insides clench with need. Is this the way he’d touch me? Calmly, surely, as if he has all the time in the world to explore my body?
I’m on edge, but I force myself to relax and make conversation. “How long have you two played in the league?” I ask them curiously.
“I’ve just been playing for three months,” Daniel replies. “Sebastian talked me into it.”
“I needed sane company,” Sebastian explains. “I played for Clark’s team last year. We lost in the finals of the tournament, and Clark does not know how to lose with grace. He was so much of a dick that half the team swore they’d never come back. So I recruited Juliette and Daniel to keep me company.”
“And to keep you from strangling Clark,” Daniel jokes.
“There is that,” Sebastian agrees with a grin.
“You guys must have lost to Trevor’s team,” I realize. “Trevor won last year. He couldn’t stop talking about it.”
“Probably.” Sebastian shrugs. “It’s just a game. People take this shit far too seriously.” He puts two plates in front of us, heaped with brown rice and a colorful mixture of chicken and vegetables. Steam rises in spirals from the dish, and it smells wonderful. “Dig in,” he says, and I attack my food like I’ve never eaten before.
The stir-fry is a revelation. A perfect medley of sweet and spicy and salty flavors dance on my tongue, and each vegetable is cooked exactly right. “God, this is good,” I moan. “Why isn’t this on your menu?”
Sebastian laughs. “It’s too simple,” he says. “I can’t make any money on it.”
For a few moments, the only sound in the kitchen is the noise of our forks scraping at our plates. Then something strikes me. “Hang on, you said you bet Clark that I’d win in July. Isn’t that when the tournament is played? What happens if we don’t qualify?”
“I presume that the bet becomes a non-issue in that case,” Daniel says. “But,” he adds confidently, “if you allow us to coach you, that won’t happen. We’ll qualify.”
Coach me. Again, he’s said it with just a little bit more emphasis than required. There’s heat in his eyes and a trace of roughness in his voice.
Sebastian doesn’t say anything, but he’s sitting in front of me, and I can see his eyes linger on my body. There’s appreciation in his gaze, one that makes me very glad I’d worn my prettiest, laciest pink underwear beneath my clothes.
I can hear the desire in Daniel’s tone and I can see the heat in Sebastian’s eyes. Suddenly, all the doubts that have plagued me vanish. It was the same way when I went to Russia. The entire flight, I thought I was mad for going so far away, but the moment the wheels of the airplane touched down in Vladivostok, I’d been ready.
I’m ready now, ready to be adventurous. I can’t wait to finish my meal and see what happens next.
15
Bailey
In 19th century Finland, a girl of marriageable age would wear an empty sheath in a belt around her waist. Interested men would put a sword in her sheath. If she returned the blade, she wasn’t interested in the would-be suitor, but keeping the blade meant she agreed to marry him.
from Bailey’s Journal of Interesting Facts from around the World
“You look nervous.” Sebastian’s blue eyes pierce into me.
Dinner’s done and cleared away. There’s no food to hide behind, and my nerves have made an encore appearance.
I remember Gabby’s advice to be honest with them about my sexual inexperience. After all, based on the fact that I’m here, Daniel and Sebastian might think that I’ve done a lot more exploration in bed than I actually have. Yet it’s hard to broach the conversation, and I find myself tongue-tied and anxious.
At work, I know exactly what I want, and I will do everything in my power to get it. But when it comes to guys, relationships and sex? I’m not good at asking for what I want. Gabby was right. I do find it easier to hide behind drab clothes and pretend that men like Sebastian and Daniel could never be attracted to me.
“Bailey,” Daniel’s voice is steady. “Are you alright?” His eyes are warm and concerned.
“Yes.” I force the words out past my too-dry throat, and I take a fortifying gulp of my beer. “I have a confession to make. I’ve never done this before.”
“Define this.” Sebastian gives me an encouraging look.
“This…” I gesture to the two of them with my beer. “With more than one guy at once.” I screw my eyes shut as a wave of heat washes over my face. “Sorry.”
“Bailey, open your eyes.”
Hang on, is Daniel laughing at me? My eyes fly open and I glare at him. “This isn’t funny.”
He doesn’t smile back. “One question,” he asks, and the strained intensity of his voice catches me by surprise. “Do you want to do this?”
“Yes.” Heaven help me, yes. I haven’t been able to think of anything else. Desire and burning curiosity prickles at my skin, threatening to erupt from me like a molten, heated volcano. “I really want to.”
Sebastian lets out a huge breath. “That’s all that matters.” They move closer to me. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to.”
Daniel looks at me with a slight frown. I guess I must still look wary. “Tell you, what,” he says after a minute, his expression clearing. “Why don’t we head to the game room and play a game of pool? No pressure.”
“You have a game room.” I shake my head in disbelief. Sheesh. Billionaires. The guy has a rec room in Manhattan, on the Upper East Side. “Must be nice. Lead the way.”
Daniel is entirely unperturbed by my eye-rolling, as is Sebastian. The sound of their chuckles fill the air, warming me from the inside out.
They make me break, because they are jerks and because Daniel reminds me that he has serious money riding on my performance. Now that I’ve seen his place, I know that fifty thousand dollars is a drop in the bucket for Daniel Hartman. A rounding error.
Despite their tips the other night, breaking remains a mortifying experience. “Come on, Bailey,” Sebastian chides as I chalk my cue tip elaborately in an effort to stall the proceedings. “Stop delaying. I know what you are doing.”
Daniel moves behind me, his expression gleaming with anticipation. His hands come up to stroke the outside of my arms. “We can teach you how to play,” he mutters into my ear, his breath warm against my skin, “or…”
“Or?” My voice comes out breathy and fluttery, a perfect match to the feeling in my belly.
“Or we can do more.”
“And what does more involve?” All I want to do is lean back against Daniel’s hard chest.
Sebastian moves in front of me, effectively trapping me between the two of them. They don’t close in yet, but their intent is clear. “What do you want it to involve?”
I’ve been thinking about what my limits are. I don’t want to be a prude, but I also know that thes
e guys are significantly more sexually adventurous than I am. “No unprotected sex,” I say firmly. My safety isn’t up for negotiation. “Beyond that, I don’t have a lot of experience. I’m game to try almost anything once.”
Sebastian’s eyes fill with startled surprise, then he starts laughing. Behind me, Daniel wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me toward him. “Ah Bailey,” he says into my ear, before nibbling at my earlobe, sending a spike of pure desire through me. “This is going to be so good.”
Sebastian places a finger on my chin and inclines my jaw up toward his face. I watch as he dips his head down to kiss me. I can see each bit of stubble, and I want to rub myself against it, like a cat seeking a scratching post. I reach to pull his head toward me, impatient for his kiss, but Daniel makes a noise of disapproval and seizes my hands in his.
Ah. This is how it’s going to play out.
I moan in my throat, my anticipation making me fidget between them. I incline my face up as his lips descend on mine, then I stop thinking and kiss Sebastian back. My breasts press into his chest, and his hands come up to caress my sides. Behind me, I can feel Daniel’s erection against my ass as his hands roam all over my body, his legs urging mine apart.
“Here’s how it’s going to work, Bailey,” Daniel rasps. “You can always say no, and we will stop. But until then, you’ll do as you are told. Okay?”
Fuck, fuck. Too much, too intense. I feel like I’m about to burn up from his dominant tone. Every bone in my body has melted into lava, and I’m only being held up by their bodies.
Sebastian’s eyes search my face. “If you want us to stop,” he says reassuringly, “we will. We want you to be turned on.”
In an odd way, their dominance soothes me. I feel very inexperienced, but they are telling me I don’t need to worry about anything. All I need to do is obey.
“What turns you on?”
“You do.” Daniel’s voice whispers, nibbling my ear till I’m grinding against him like I’m in heat. Which, to be fair, is exactly right. “You turn me on.”
“What should we do with her?” Sebastian asks, his voice amused but with a distinctly ragged undertone.
“Take her top off,” Daniel suggests.
Sebastian promptly moves in front of me. “Lift your hands up, princess,” he says. I obey, and his fingers find the hem of my shirt, tugging it over my head. This is so much like my fantasy. “And the bra too, I think.”
They pause for an instant, no doubt to give me an opportunity to protest. But the time for protestations is past, and besides, despite my inexperience, I’m hardly going to act like a blushing virgin. I came to Daniel’s place fully aware of what was on offer. I knew there were two of them, and if I’d stopped to think about it, I could have even guessed that they would be all dominant and alpha in the bedroom. I knocked on Daniel’s door knowing all of that. I nod. “Yes,” I whisper. “The bra too.”
“Good girl.” Daniel’s voice is encouraging. He inhales sharply as Sebastian moves behind me to unclasp my bra, letting it slide to the floor. “Fuck,” he groans. “Those are fantastic tits. Touch them, Sebastian.”
Sebastian doesn’t need any prompting. His hands circle my body and pin me in place, my back touching his chest. His fingers tease my nipples, pinching and pulling, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. “What pretty breasts,” he growls. “I could stay here and play with them for hours… Would you like that, Bailey? Would you like to be taken right up against the edge? Again and again?”
No. I want to orgasm now. Though my clitoris hasn’t been touched, and I never come without direct stimulation, I’m at the edge now, and my entire body trembles. “Yes,” I moan. I’ll agree to anything. Anything as long as either of them parts my legs and touches my cunt.
Daniel’s hands hoist me onto the pool table. His fingers curl around the hem of my skirt, lifting it up so it bunches around my waist. Sebastian claws at my panties, pushing them down to my knees, then still lower, until I kick them off frantically, unwilling to let a scrap of fabric come between me and my reward.
I have no idea what’s come over me, but I’m burning up. My lust crackles like a sparkler on a dark night, all sharp edges and fierce sounds. I’m moaning, panting as one of them slides a finger into me. “So ready,” Daniel marvels. Is that Daniel’s finger? If so, where’s Sebastian?
My legs are being parted. A tongue runs at my slit, nibbles at my labia. “I’m going to drip on the surface,” I worry.
A sharp smack on my inner thigh makes me bite my lip. That felt unexpectedly good. If that’s what a spanking feels like, I want one.
Then the tongue touches my clitoris, and thinking becomes impossible. Mouth and lips feasting on me. Fingers pistoning in and out of my cunt. Hands gripping my knees, forcing them open. The faint scratch of the wool of the tabletop against my naked ass.
A finger circles my asshole and I flinch. “Never done that,” I pant out. “Be gentle.”
Daniel smiles at me. “Don’t worry,” he soothes. His finger smears some of the wetness that’s dripping off my cunt into that tight hole, and I concentrate on not tensing up. “Relax,” he says again.
Another smack on my thighs brings back my focus to Sebastian’s mouth on my clitoris, where he’s demonstrating some seriously formidable oral skills. I’ve never been eaten out as skillfully. My pleasure is cresting, threatening to overflow. My thighs stiffen on either side of Sebastian’s head, and his hands move quickly to hold me still.
My focus jumps from one of them to the other. From Sebastian’s mouth on my pussy, licking my slit, teasing my clitoris, to Daniel’s finger, slowly exploring my asshole. When he slips one finger up to the first knuckle, I groan. The sensation is so strange, yet so oddly arousing.
“Yes,” I clench out, pushing my pussy into Sebastian’s face. “Please…”
Sebastian groans, and the sound vibrates through my sensitive flesh. “Fuck me, you are amazing,” he growls. “If this is what all college professors are like, I’m going to give higher education a serious rethink.”
“Mouth,” I beg. “Back on my pussy. Don’t stop.”
He obligingly gets back to work. This time, he increases the suction and grazes my pulsing flesh ever so slightly with his teeth, a move that has my hips bucking and grinding into his face. Daniel adds another finger to the one already in my asshole, and the burning stretch makes me stiffen in pain for an instant. But then it dissolves into pleasure, and I’m lost again in my haze of need.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan. “Please…” That last word is a warble, because though the arousal has been building steadily, it’s suddenly too much. I shudder and scream, and hands lock me in place against that tongue, against those fingers battering my pussy with pleasure.
Wave after wave washes over me, till I am left, limp and sated, drenched with sweat. If this is the carrot they are going to dangle in front of me, I’m aiming to be their star student.
16
Daniel
Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.
L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
Holy fucking shit, she’s incredible. All I want to do is sweep her into my arms, take her to my bedroom, and taste her sweetness, hear her moans as she comes again, this time, because of my mouth, my touch.
I’m about to suggest that we do exactly that when my phone pings, alerting me to an incoming message. I glance down at it by habit. Cyrus never did send in the numbers he said he wanted me to look at, and I’ve been waiting for them all evening. But the email is not from him. It’s just one of many messages that routinely come in late in the night, ready for me to deal with when I get into work tomorrow morning.
Cyrus. His image pops uninvited into my mind, looking grim and disapproving. What are you doing? he would ask. Do you not care about Hartman and Company? The firm has prospered for hundreds of years - are you going to be the person who runs it into the ground? For what? Sex? Can’t you keep it in your pa
nts, boy?
Damn it. Cyrus’ admonishments rip me out of the moment and my lust disappears. I still want Bailey, yet the caution I felt earlier this morning comes to the fore. You don’t know her at all, I remind myself, in a voice that sounds very much like my uncle. You have an image to maintain, and obligations to your company. Make sure Bailey can be trusted before taking this any further.
Bailey stands up unsteadily, and she has a sated, satisfied expression on her face. She looks like a sleepy kitten. “I might not know much about threesomes,” she smirks, her eyes resting pointedly at our crotches, “but I think it’s your turn now.”
I clear my throat. I’m about to do one of the stupidest things of my life. “Can we take a raincheck?” I ask her. “I have an early morning meeting.”
Sebastian’s head snaps toward me, and he surveys me with a puzzled expression. Bailey’s face falls. “Is everything okay?” she asks hesitantly. She gnaws at her lower lip, and seeing the tip of her pink tongue sweep over her soft lips, I grow even harder than before.
“Everything’s fine,” I lie. “See you Wednesday at the Maxwell Club? I’ll call you.” Even before I say the words, I feel like a louse. “And Bailey, I’m sure it goes without saying that you’ll keep the details of our encounter out of the press?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sebastian tense, but I’m not looking at him. I’m looking at Bailey, who has gone sheet-white with shock.
Fuck. I’ve screwed up. I should have never opened my mouth.
17
Sebastian
I see the hurt on Bailey’s face as Daniel utters his ill-thought out words. Daniel does too, and his shoulders hunch and his expression turns bleak. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, his arms dropping helplessly to his sides.
Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection Page 9