by Sotia Lazu
“It’s not like that. I’ll be there too.” Brad sighed. “It’s her thirtieth birthday next Saturday. I asked if she wanted something special, and she said a threesome. Two men and her.”
“She asked for me?” Colin was lightheaded. He needed to sit down. Becca wanted to sleep with him, and Brad was okay with that. More. He’d join them. Christmas had come early this year.
But he shouldn’t unwrap his fucking presents, because it wasn’t fucking right.
He forced his feet to move, and dropped his weight on the leather couch.
“I suggested you.” Brad straddled the armrest, no longer looking at him.
Colin loosened his tie. It was getting too hot. “So you thought of me?”
“Who else, man? You know I don’t… I’m not very open with sex, and you’re as experienced as they get. No offence.”
“None taken,” mumbled Colin.
“I wanted to ease you into it, but you’ve disappeared for the past couple of weeks. When Becca and I got together, she told me she likes to spice things up on occasion, and I promised to try anything once.” He shrugged. “You and I won’t be doing anything together, but I’d still rather have you there than some random guy I’ll have to pay. It’ll be less awkward.”
Colin didn’t see how that was possible. In the early days of their friendship, he’d let Brad know he occasionally indulged in some male company of the naked variety, but he hadn’t been completely honest with him. When Colin first offered to buy Brad a drink, he meant to seduce the tall, dark, and handsome momma’s boy. Colin forgot all about his plans when he and Brad found themselves geeking over Farscape, and he never regretted it. He wouldn’t trade his friendship with Brad for a single night of passion, however hot that night might be.
But now Colin could have it all. He could be in bed with Brad. He could fuck the same woman as him—a woman he found inexplicably alluring. And it would all be consequence free.
Of course, if he were a true friend, he’d let Brad know there was still this one parameter Brad wasn’t aware of. Two, counting in Colin’s possible attraction to Becca.
Nah, he wouldn’t do it. Too messy. Too complicated.
“Just think about it, will you?” Brad stood and turned to face him. “Maybe go out with us a couple more times? You could talk to Becca alone too. See exactly what she has in mind.”
Colin pulled a cushion in his lap, and thumbed its zipper, nodding mutely. He hoped he looked nonchalant, and that Brad wouldn’t realize he was trying to hide his erection.
“So it’s not an outright no. Yes?” Brad backed toward the door.
“I’ll think about it, but it’s not a good idea.”
“I’ll come over tonight. Maybe bring Becca. We can have a drink. Talk about it all.”
Before Colin had time to come up with an answer, Brad was gone, the door closed behind him.
* * * *
Colin kicked off his shoes, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and hopped onto his leather sofa. He downed a swig of the beer, and loosened his tie. The remote in hand, he flicked on the television and tried hard to find something to watch. Anything to take his mind off Brad’s offer. His workday had been busy, but now he was home, insidious thoughts kept creeping into his conscience.
He said he’d think about the possibility of a threesome, but he obviously had to say no. Neither relationships nor friendships came back from something like that.
Unless it was done right.
No. There was no ‘doing it right’ when it came to fucking your friend’s girl. Especially at the same time said friend was fucking her.
Would Brad want to go in the front or back? What would Colin prefer?
He remembered Becca’s round ass, swaying as she walked. After all those years chasing perfect bodies, he might not mind hitting that, to be honest.
But he couldn’t possibly be honest, if he wanted things to remain as they were.
‘If’ being the operative word.
He guzzled down the rest of his beer, stood, and slipped off his tie. On his way to the kitchen, he peeled off his shirt and draped it over one of the dining room chairs. He’d have one more beer, and then jump in the shower. Brad hadn’t called. He probably had second thoughts, which meant Colin could let the whole thing go.
He was halfway through the second bottle, when the downstairs doorbell rang.
Colin neared the intercom and pressed the button. “Who is it?”
“It’s us.” This was Brad’s voice, and ‘us’ could only mean him and Becca. In Colin’s building. While Colin was on his way to getting drunk. Someone up there sure loved putting his defenses to the test.
He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t in. He could say he had company, but Brad would want details the next day, and Colin wasn’t used to lying. Not to his friends, at least. He slammed his palm on the wall. “Come on up.” He buzzed them in, and hurried to put his shirt back on before getting the upstairs door.
When Becca walked out of the elevator, Colin knew she was determined to get him to say yes. Her low-cut ruched dress hugged her curves, its deep red color bringing out the green flecks in her eyes. She’d piled her hair atop her head in a messy bun that left tendrils caressing her face, and her high heels made her legs look long and shapely.
“Do I pass inspection?” she asked.
If Colin were any less jaded, he might have blushed. “I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked with a smile. “I’ve only met Brad’s other girlfriend, the house painter. You know, kind of scruffy?”
Brad wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, and kissed the exposed nape of her neck. “Doesn’t she look gorgeous?”
Colin hated to admit it, but she did. Brad had been right. Becca was sexy. And unless Colin reined himself in, both she and Brad would be able to tell Colin wanted her.
Shit. He actually wanted her. There was no denying it any longer.
“She got all dressed up for you,” Brad said. “Maybe I should be jealous.”
“Quit that.” Colin arched an eyebrow at Brad, and then turned to her. “Wine?”
“I’d rather have a beer.” She nodded toward his empty bottles.
“Make that two,” said Brad.
Even better. The short trip to the kitchen would give Colin time to gather himself. He grabbed two bottles of Samuel Adams from the bridge and called out, “You need a glass, Becca?” He knew Brad didn’t.
“No.” Her voice came from right behind him. When he turned his head, she was a hairsbreadth away. “We’re going to need more than two. Let me help you.” She reached past him, pressing her breasts against his side, and grabbed another couple of bottles.
She hopped on the bench, and used her thumb ring to pop one bottle open. Colin watched as she wrapped her lips around the opening and drank greedily. When she extended her tongue to lick a drop that slowly glided down the neck of the bottle, he had to bite back a groan at the memory of the last time he saw her mouth at work. She really knew how to use it.
Becca arched an eyebrow. “Brad told me he asked you.”
The words took a heartbeat to register. “I don’t—”
“Please say yes. It will mean a lot to both of us.” She ran her tongue along her upper lip. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He had to look away. “Becca…I don’t think it’s a good idea.” A specific part of him disagreed strongly with that statement, but he had to listen to his upper head for once.
“Is it because I’m not a model?” She cocked her head. She might have sounded insecure, if it weren’t for the mischief lighting up her eyes.
No. Yes. She wasn’t his type, but that wasn’t the only factor. There was nothing to gain by insulting her, when his main reason was so noble. He shook his head. “Having sex with you will ruin my friendship with Brad, and probably mess up your relationship with him. He may act cool, but he’s not ready to share you. I don’t know if he ever will be.”
She gave him a slow, lazy smile. “You’d be surprised at what
he’s ready for.”
He wanted to ask, and milk her answer for all the details he could get from this voluptuous woman.
Voluptuous?
No! He didn’t think of her as voluptuous. She didn’t have what he looked for in a woman. He had to keep reminding himself that, since thinking he wouldn’t sleep with a friend’s girlfriend didn’t seem to do the trick. Becca was at least twenty pounds overweight. Maybe even thirty. She was round where she should be flat, curvy where she should be toned, and her breasts were several cups larger than the perfect, fit-in-a-champagne-glass, size.
His gaze traveled to the swell of her cleavage, and he found himself thinking of her nipples again.
Utterly fucked-up train of thought.
“Why me?” He hadn’t meant for the question to sound so husky.
She looked at him, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Because I want you, and Brad said I can have you.” She trailed a nail down his cheek. “If a threesome is too much, I can ask him if we can be alone.”
That was a weird thing to say. She and Brad were already—
“Oh.” Realization sank in. “You mean you and me?”
“Yes.”
He was short of breath at the thought of her taking his cock into her mouth. He gulped. “He won’t like it.” Why was he turning it on Brad? Colin was the one who shouldn’t like it.
Becca gave him another of those mysterious smiles. “He’ll agree, if I promise to make it worth his while.”
“You shouldn’t even ask him. He’ll hate me for telling you, but I think he’s falling for you. Hard. He’ll probably agree to anything that will make you happy, and then resent you for it. He’ll resent us both. This can’t end well, Becca.”
She slid down from her perch, letting her dress ride high on her thighs. They were creamy white and fleshy. Bitable.
He was supposed to be thinking of croissants that way, not Becca.
She lifted his chin with a finger, and brushed his ear with her lips. “On the contrary, I foresee a happy ending for all of us.”
Colin suppressed the entirely pleasurable shiver that travelled down his spine, and waited until she was out of the kitchen to splash some cold water on his face.
It all sounded good, when it clearly shouldn’t. Even if a threesome or a night of debauchery—in whatever combination—was appealing, Becca shouldn’t be getting him hard. She wasn’t even close to the level of pussy he was used to.
But he bet she was amazing in bed. Or on the kitchen counter.
“…the fuck?” He shook his head, and ran his palm down his face, chasing the mental picture away. He’d never find out for sure if she was the greatest fuck in the world, because she was fucking Brad’s fucking girlfriend. He shouldn’t be considering touching her, but from what he’d seen, there was no way he could give her that argument and win. He had to talk to Brad instead.
If those two were set on spicing up their sex life, they could turn to a pro. Colin would be no part of it.
He waited until his heartbeat was mostly back to normal, then grabbed a pack of chips from the counter, and tucked two more bottles of beer under his arm. “Anyone up for Scrabble?” he asked, as he reentered the living room. He might survive the night, if he kept things friendly and nerdy.
Or maybe there was no salvation for him, because he had a filthy mind and a wandering eye.
Even though Becca and Brad were obviously dressed for a night out, they both agreed to play, and neither of them went with the juvenile option of going for four letter words, as Colin initially expected. Still, he couldn’t help but stare at how Becca’s breasts jiggled when she bounced in place after turning ‘phone’ into ‘xylophone.’ And his gaze kept returning to the apex of her thighs, as her dress rode higher with every exuberant motion.
She couldn’t possibly be aware of how much she was turning him on.
No! It wasn’t her turning him on. Couldn’t be. What got him hard was the idea of the forbidden fruit. Better yet, the idea of a three-way with a guy on whom Colin had long given up.
Becca leaned forward, attention focused solely on the board in front of her. Her legs slid open just an inch. Colin couldn’t really see anything—her dress and the dim lighting hid the triangle that gave him such a headache—but he imagined he could. In his mind’s eye, he saw nothing but glistening bare flesh, and he was close enough to run his fingers along her slit. Kneeling in front of her. Tasting her.
He realized he was staring, and snapped his gaze to her face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, but the corners of her lips twisted slightly, as she opened her knees another fraction.
Panic rising inside him, Colin threw a glance at Brad, who appeared absorbed sorting out a word for his turn to play. Should he keep looking?
Most certainly not. It wasn’t like there was anything between her legs he hadn’t seen before. At the end of the day, wasn’t all pussy just pussy?
Becca tapped a tile on the coffee table rhythmically, the letter hidden from view. The fingers of her free hand glided up her inner thigh, blood red fingernails drawing circles on the creamy skin.
She knew he was watching.
Of course she knew.
This time, when she leaned forward to form the word ‘COME,’ she spread her legs wide for just one moment—long enough for him to catch a glimpse of what might have been nude panties.
Or not.
He shook his head, and didn’t miss the wide smile on Becca’s full lips. She knew, and was loving every reaction he had.
But Colin wasn’t born yesterday, and certainly wasn’t a sex-starved kid. Once he reminded himself that, focusing on the game became infinitely easier. Becca wasn’t the first woman who tried to seduce him. She wouldn’t be the first to fail, either. Fuck, he’d turned down gorgeous, willowy creatures, because he didn’t like something as insignificant as their pedicure. He loved being shallow. He was good at it. He wouldn’t let her and her curves and her mind-games get to him.
Even if her pout was the sexiest pout he’d seen on a woman.
He closed his eyes, and faked a yawn. He wasn’t ruled by his dick, damn it.
His dick probably laughed at him.
Chapter Five
Scrabble failed to keep their interest after the third round of beers, and Colin hoped folding up the board would signify the end of the evening.
Brad apparently had other ideas. “Anyone up for a movie? I’d watch something.” Doubtful. His eyelids seemed heavy. Maybe he was hoping for a repeat of their night at the movies.
“I can see what’s on TV,” Colin said. With any luck, there’d be nothing on, and they’d leave him alone.
Becca gave him a half-smile, and stood. “I’ll grab another beer. Let’s see if you can find an oldie. I don’t feel like action tonight.”
And thank fuck for that, if she meant it the way Colin understood.
Brad shrugged. “I’m good with anything you decide.”
Colin kept flicking through channels, his attention more on how Brad kicked off his shoes and propped his legs on the couch, than on the screen. Now there was no room for Becca to sit on that couch.
“Oh wait! It’s Battlestar Galactica.” Becca bounced in the living room, and started waving at the TV. “Go back. Go back.”
Colin did just that. “Huh. It’s the original series.” He pressed the info button. “And it’s apparently a marathon.”
“Never saw it,” Brad said. He yawned, and crossed his arms on his stomach.
“Starbuck was a guy in this one,” Becca said, gaining another ounce of Colin’s respect.
“What a waste.” Brad laughed.
“I know, right?” Becca toed off her own shoes, sat next to Colin, and folded her legs beneath her.
Great. Now she was close enough to touch. He needed an excuse to move to the armchair before she made a move.
Only the show finished, Brad started snoring gently, and Becca barely looked at him.
Colin felt compelled to
say something. “Brad is asleep.” Well, that sounded like an invitation, when it so clearly wasn’t.
Was it?
Becca nodded. “Mind if I stay for one more episode? My dad and I used to watch it when I was little, and it still has some of its old magic. I know the special effects are stupid and the dialog is cheesy, but…” She bit her lip. “Unless you need to go to bed.” It seemed to be an unconscious gesture, but it was as flirty as anything she’d done. She flirted even when she wasn’t trying, and Colin was fighting a lost battle.
“I can stay up for one more. You okay for drinks?” He tilted his head toward her empty bottle.
“I better not have more. I’ll probably have to drive us back. Doubt Brad will be up to it.”
Colin nodded. “You could crash here.” What the fuck was he saying? “I mean, I have two couches.”
Smile lines formed at the corners of her eyes. “Thanks. We’ll see how we are after this. Now hush. It’s starting.”
Colin hushed, but didn’t watch the show. Instead, he watched Becca absorb every single moment of it, commenting gleefully on things she remembered from the first time she saw it. She seemed so innocent. So open. No trace remained of the seductress who’d walked into his apartment.
And somehow that seduced him even more.
Two hours later, Becca cracked her knuckles, arched her back, and rolled her head. “Can’t believe we’ve watched two episodes back to back, and I’m still not sleepy.” Her eyelids drooped, but Colin didn’t burst her bubble. “Shouldn’t you go to bed?” she asked. “Just help me wake Brad, and we’ll be out of here.”
“I’m not sleepy either. Let’s watch one more.” He couldn’t care less about Battlestar Galactica at this point. Becca had let down her hair, literally and figuratively. Her curls framed her face, and Colin wanted to wrap a ringlet around his finger, and see if it felt as silky as it looked.
“Okay, but my back hurts. I need to get more comfy.” She squished a throw pillow between her hands, scrunched her nose, then looked at him. “This isn’t a come-on. I’m too tired for sex now anyway.”