Tempting Meredith

by Samantha Ann King

  They followed her into the house. Huggins met them at the door and after introductions, Blaine and Charlie gave Huggins the attention she expected as the queen of the house.

  Meredith placed her purse and keys on the secretary. “Have a seat. I’m going to have a glass of wine.” Forget pancakes. She didn’t think she could swallow them, much less keep them down. “Would y’all like something to drink? Beer, wine, a soda?”

  “Beer’s great,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, great,” Blaine echoed.

  So she wasn’t the only one who needed alcohol for the coming conversation. They settled in the living room, her in one chair, Blaine across from her in the other and Charlie on the couch between them.

  Charlie took a long, deep draw on the beer before saying, “You’re probably wondering why we’re here.”

  “No, not really.” She knew why they were here. Charlie had made his decision about the ménage. Since he’d brought Blaine with him, she suspected his answer was yes.

  Charlie’s brows drew together. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. Of course not. Why?”

  “You wouldn’t answer my messages.”

  She placed her wine glass on the table and slipped off her suit jacket. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks. The WoSTEM camp starts on Monday. I’ve been dealing with last-minute stuff.”

  “That’s the science camp for teenage girls, right?” Blaine asked.

  “I guess Charlie told you about it.”

  “Nah. I checked you out on the internet.”

  “I thought maybe you were avoiding me,” Charlie said.

  She widened her eyes and parted her lips as if the idea had never occurred to her. “I would never do that,” she said in her best southern drawl.

  Charlie shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  No fooling him. Not that she’d been trying to. “Seriously, I needed some time to think, to figure some stuff out.”

  “About us?”

  “Yes.”

  “I did, too.” His grin faltered, and his neck pinkened. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal.”

  His chagrin baffled her. He could talk dirty to her with his boss—his friend—watching and listening. But a discussion about the three of them together discomfited him.

  She glanced at Blaine. His hands clasped the brown bottle between his knees. The expression on his lean face was a mixture of hopeful and worried.

  “You really want to do this again?” she asked him skeptically.

  He nodded. “This would be different.”

  “How?” She sipped her wine, waiting for the answer. Could they see her heart pounding against her silk shirt?

  They glanced at each other then back at her.

  Blaine cleared his throat. “I should probably answer that.”

  She leaned back and crossed her legs, trying to appear nonchalant instead of conflicted.

  “This time I’m telling you up front that it’s about more than you. You’re beautiful, smart, sexy. I like you. A lot. I fell a little bit in love with you that night. And seeing you again didn’t change that. But as you’ve guessed, I love Charlie. More than a friend should.”

  She squirmed at the image that popped into her head. Both men naked, their bodies pressed together, kissing from their lips to their toes. Those muscular thighs bumping as they rubbed their long, swollen cocks against each other. Their broad chests glistening. The play of their biceps, her own private gun show as they touched, stroked, caressed all of that masculine skin. Oh God, and then Charlie spinning Blaine away from him and bending him over the bed before he—

  “Meredith?” Blaine’s voice interrupted the fantasy.

  She blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

  Charlie chuckled. “She’s drooling.”

  Meredith snapped her mouth shut before straightening her shoulders and replying, “I am not.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Charlie said, his color almost restored to normal. “But there are other conditions before we go there.”

  “And I’m waiting to hear them.” Granted, talking about expectations before anything happened was wise. But it was kinda hard to focus when she wanted to take them upstairs and get on with it.

  “You understand that it’s about more than you?” Blaine asked.

  “Like last time,” she said.

  “Huh-uh.” Blaine jerked his head at Charlie. “This time we don’t need you as an excuse to be together.”

  “Really?” She wasn’t convinced of that. Blaine didn’t need her. But Charlie was a different story.

  Charlie answered. “It’s true.”

  She could press him. But talk was cheap. He’d say what he believed. And what he believed wasn’t necessarily the truth. Unless... “Have you already—?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

  Charlie looked guilty. “A kiss. That’s all. I didn’t cheat on you.”

  Wow. She was stunned. A kiss? That was a huge step for him. “Okay. What else?”

  “It won’t be a one-time thing,” Charlie said.

  “I have feelings for both of you,” Blaine added. “I won’t just fuck you and leave it at that. I want to see where this takes us. All three of us.”

  Meredith absorbed his words. A car passed the house, its lights flashing behind the plantation shutters. The air conditioner cycled on, a low hum. The refrigerated air blew across her face but didn’t cool the heat building inside her.

  “Are you okay with that?” Charlie asked.

  The temptation was impossible to resist. The three of them together. Both men fucking her. Everything they’d done so far had been blazing hot. The three of them together would probably set the room on fire.

  And if it didn’t work out, didn’t last, there would be no baby this time. No lingering reminder. No heartrending souvenir.

  “Is that everything?” she asked.

  Charlie spoke matter-of-factly. “Those are our conditions and expectations. We need to know yours.”

  Don’t leave me when we’re done. But they couldn’t guarantee that. She was still hiding Cassandra from them. That secret could change everything, especially with Blaine. “I can’t think of anything. Well, condoms, of course.”

  Both men nodded.

  “Okay then.” She stood. She could feel a sheen of sweat dampening her skin. The silk blouse clung to her. This was really going to happen. She’d had her doubts. Charlie could’ve balked at being with a man or at letting another man touch her. And no one would blame Blaine for not wanting to get involved in what could be another messy threesome. “Toys are upstairs. Shall we play?”

  Both men jumped to their feet.

  She started for the stairs off the dining room but didn’t hear footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Not only had Charlie and Blaine not followed her, but they looked as if they had bad news.

  Charlie stammered, “I—uh—We wanted to give you time to think about it.”

  “Another difference from last time,” Blaine added. “No pressure. This is your decision.”

  “I’ve made my decision.” She definitely wanted this. Both men caressing her, each other. Skin on skin on skin. She craved it. “Time isn’t going to change it.”

  “It could,” Blaine said. “Either way, it won’t hurt to wait.”

  “After camp is done, let us know,” Charlie said.

  Two and a half weeks? Maybe they weren’t as into this as she’d believed. Maybe they weren’t sure. Was Charlie still hesitant about the man-on-man action? If so, he needed the incentive to explore that relationship without her. He needed to be certain. She needed him to be certain.

  “If that’s the case, then I have another condition.” Not wanting to miss Charlie’s r
eaction, she watched him carefully. “I don’t want you to wait. I want the two of you to—” How to put this? Fuck sounded so crass for what they’d be doing. Odd. She’d never had a problem with that word before. Make love didn’t sound right either because she didn’t know if Charlie was there yet. Clearly, Blaine was. “Before I make my decision, I want—no, I need the two of you to be together.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. His skin flushed. He glanced uncertainly at Blaine.

  “As in sex?” Blaine asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Now?” Charlie asked, disbelief choking the word.

  Oh, she liked that idea. Liked it a lot. Plus, it might give her some clarity about her place between them. But she suspected Charlie would be too self-conscious his first time with a man, especially with her watching. “No. You can wait until you return to the ranch. Seduce each other with candles and wine or whatever it is men like. Beer and baseball, maybe?”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Blaine said.

  She almost rolled her eyes. Reason? Really? This wasn’t about reason. It was about sex and emotion: add the two together, and you sure as hell didn’t get reason. But she didn’t argue. “Okay. When it’s done, let me know if you’re still interested in a ménage.”

  “Not a ménage,” Blaine countered. “This ménage.”

  Leave it to a lawyer to nitpick determiners. Didn’t matter that he no longer practiced or that he’d read her usage correctly.

  “Right,” she said. “This ménage.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Charlie didn’t say much on the drive back to the ranch. Neither did Blaine. Talk radio and pornographic thoughts kept Charlie awake, not to mention his worries that he’d disappoint Blaine. A month ago, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of having sex with a man. Now he wasn’t just considering it, he got hard at the mere suggestion. Despite his cock’s optimism, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. He’d planned on easing into sex with Blaine. Meredith between them had been a part of that plan. She’d surprised the hell out of him by taking herself out of it. He hoped this wasn’t her way of backing out permanently. Nah. She’d been game right up until he and Blaine had put the brakes on. Maybe they shouldn’t have insisted on waiting. He parked at the back of the house after midnight, switched off the engine and stared out the front of the truck. They sat in uncomfortable, uncertain silence.

  “It’s late,” Blaine said, and although his voice was low and calm, Charlie tensed. “We need a good night’s sleep. We can tackle the rest of it tomorrow.”

  The rest of it. Some of the tension eased out of Charlie’s muscles. Over the last few days, he’d researched gay sex, had even searched out some gay porn on his laptop. But reading about it and watching porn flicks were different from doing it, whether his cock realized it or not.

  Blaine reached across the front seat and placed his hand over Charlie’s on the steering wheel. “Okay?”

  Charlie’s nod was jerky. “Yeah. That makes sense.” He’d give himself a hand job so he could sleep tonight.

  Blaine pried Charlie’s grip from the leather wheel and linked their fingers together on the seat between them. They sat like that for a long time. It felt weird. Holding a man’s hand. But also kinda right. Charlie stared at the yellow porch light. The bugs flitting around it mirrored the fears, doubts and qualms darting around his brain. But they didn’t chase away the desire. Despite his concerns, he still wanted Blaine.

  “Are you worried you won’t like it?” Blaine asked, his voice so soft that it blended with the night.

  Charlie shrugged. “Maybe. A little. No, not really.” He paused. “I’m afraid you won’t.”

  Blaine’s low chuckle burrowed inside him, warm and fuzzy. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Sure it does. You’ve done it before. I haven’t.”

  “Performance anxiety?”

  Charlie didn’t answer. Blaine’s familiar scent, like sunshine and trees, hung in the truck cab. But there was a new aspect to it. Not just that Charlie was responding to it sexually. But something else. Something that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe he’d been too oblivious to notice.

  “Come on. You’re not like this with Meredith.”

  “I have more experience with women. Hell, what am I saying? I only have experience with women.”

  Blaine squeezed his hand. “You’ve never masturbated?”

  “Well, yeah, of course I have.” He squirmed. Especially over the last week with thoughts of Meredith and Blaine providing all the stimulation he needed.

  “And I’m assuming you’ve had at least one woman go down on you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know what you like, right?”

  He swallowed. Hell, yeah. “Uh-huh.”

  “What makes you think I won’t like what you like?”

  He had a point. In fact, Charlie felt head-smackingly dense for not realizing it himself. “But the other... I haven’t even done that with a woman.”

  “You mean anal?”

  “Yes.” It came out in a relieved whisper even as his ass clenched, not unpleasantly, at the thought. “Do you—” he stumbled, “—like it?”

  “Fuckin’ love it.” The smile in his voice was contagious.

  Charlie looked at Blaine for the first time since they’d parked. Blaine had slid closer to him on the bench seat. They were only a few inches apart. Close enough to...

  Heart pounding, Charlie leaned in and touched his lips to Blaine’s. They were firm and immediately responsive, and he wanted more. Charlie deepened the kiss, and Blaine’s one-day growth rasped against his beard like two pieces of sandpaper. Their mouths parted, and Charlie tasted a hint of the beer his friend had drunk at Meredith’s. But mostly he tasted Blaine, honeyed and masculine, a surprising mixture.

  Charlie unlaced their fingers and spread his hands on the worn cotton of Blaine’s T-shirt. He slid up and down the shirt, learning Blaine’s body. The V of his ribs leading to the flat stomach, the curves of his pecs capped with the stiff peaks of his nipples. Charlie’s breathing quickened, and the surge of blood to his cock left that part of his anatomy in charge.

  Forget sleep. He didn’t need it. He needed Blaine.

  Because of Blaine’s experience, Charlie had figured his friend would take the lead as he had when they’d kissed two days ago. Wasn’t happening. Blaine didn’t move, didn’t touch him. Charlie broke the kiss and pulled back to make sure they were on the same page. Blaine’s mouth was parted, his normally blue-green eyes dark and unfocused.

  “You up for this?” Charlie asked before he got in too deep.

  “Have been for four years,” Blaine answered, his voice rough with desire.

  Charlie bunched handfuls of the man’s shirt in his hands and inched it up, skimming Blaine’s bared flesh. His palms itched for more. He swept the T-shirt over Blaine’s head and dropped it on the floor of the cab. The temptation of all that skin was too much. His hands traced every sweaty inch of it. His parted lips kissed Blaine’s shoulder. But he wanted to taste him, too, so he flicked his tongue then sucked at the damp flesh. Blaine’s muscles twitched beneath Charlie’s exploration.

  And then Blaine’s hands were learning Charlie. Big, rough hands that teased and caressed and kneaded. Blaine kissed and licked and sucked at his neck. As if there were a direct flight from his neck to his cock, Charlie’s erection twitched and grew. When Blaine caught the tight nubs of Charlie’s nipples between his teeth and tugged, Charlie thought he was gonna lose it. He shoved Blaine back and grasped the waistband of the man’s jeans. Their gazes caught and held as he unbuttoned and slowly released the zipper. He made sure the back of his hand slid along Blaine’s cock as he worked because that was what Charlie liked—a seemingly inadvertent touch while accomplishing another task. Blain
e’s hips undulated, the motion all sex. Charlie wanted his bare cock in his hand. He yanked down Blaine’s briefs and wrapped his fingers around the long, hot erection. It pulsed against his palm.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Blaine moaned.

  Charlie wanted to fuck him, but he didn’t have lube or condoms in the cab of the truck. And he sure as hell wasn’t breaking this off now to take it to his room.

  He fumbled with his own jeans and jerked them down over his hips until his cock sprang free then pressed Blaine’s shoulders to the bench seat. When Blaine’s head landed at an awkward angle on the passenger door, Charlie yanked his hips toward him until Blaine was flat on the narrow bench seat with one booted foot on the floor of the cab and the other on the seat. Charlie crawled between Blaine’s thighs, one knee on the bench and one leg bent and braced on the floor. He placed his hands on the seat above Blaine’s shoulder, bracketing the man’s head. It was awkward. Blaine’s hips were half on, half off the cloth bench. Charlie held himself half on, half off. Apparently Ford truck cabs weren’t designed for two grown-assed men having sex. Go figure.

  He imagined Meredith watching them, licking her lips in anticipation, her sex-heavy gaze fastened on their cocks. He didn’t finish removing Blaine’s jeans, didn’t even consider removing his own. They could do slow and naked later, when they had more room to maneuver. Right this second, he couldn’t wait to feel the tight, hot flesh of Blaine’s cock against his own. Clenching his jaw in anticipation, he lowered his hips. The moment their plump heads bumped, a hiss escaped. Their smooth, satiny flesh slid together, the gentle friction like a stream of warm water. The musky scent of sex rose between them, more intoxicating than tequila. He stopped and drew in deep breaths. He didn’t want to come yet, wanted to enjoy this, savor it like a snifter of Don Julio.

  With the windows rolled up, it was hot and muggy. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, his arms, his chest. When he had his impending orgasm under control, he thrust his hips and sent his cock and balls in a sensuous glide along Blaine’s. That tight coil of pleasure in his groin became a knot of need desperate to burst free. Blaine’s hand slipped between them, his knuckles grazing the sensitive hairs on the belly beneath Charlie’s cock. Blaine wrapped his hands around both of their cocks and sandwiched them together.