Tempting Meredith

by Samantha Ann King

  Callused hands plumped her breasts, and then Blaine suckled and tugged. A constant stream of titillation flowed to her core.

  All that stimulation slipped lower, caressing her belly, dipping into her naval. Big, rough hands slid from her knees up the inside of her damp thighs and stopped short of her pussy. His thumbs were right there, teasing. Another few centimeters. That was all. She shifted her hips a fraction.

  Blaine chuckled, and his hot breath puffed against her. So close.

  The tip of his tongue flicked against her clit. She gasped. Then waited, every nerve taut, on alert. Expectant.

  “Please,” she moaned.

  His tongue flattened against her and licked before sucking the swollen nub of her clit into his mouth. The orgasm slammed through her so violently that a cramp low in her abdomen drew it out until she thought it would never stop. And then she floated on a cloud of bliss.

  “Trust like that should be rewarded,” Charlie said.

  “What did you have in mind?” Blaine asked.

  “A woman with two men should have two orgasms, don’t ya think?”

  “Double the pleasure, double the fun,” Blaine agreed.

  “No, I can’t,” Meredith gasped. Her body was over-stimulated. She couldn’t handle any more. “It’s too much. That was—” she couldn’t think of an appropriate word, so she finished lamely, “—indescribable.”

  “We can wait,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, plenty to keep us occupied,” Blaine answered, his words wisps of breath against her stomach. The bed bounced. There was a rustle of movement, and then the heat of Blaine’s body was gone.

  Charlie’s groan of pleasure had her instantly alert.

  “Take off the blindfold first,” she said. “Please.”

  Blaine’s hand slipped beneath the fabric and pulled it over her head. She opened her eyes then squinted against the light.

  Blaine crouched between Charlie’s knees, his tongue flat against the man’s cock. His hands were hidden between Charlie’s legs, but she could imagine what they were doing. Cupping Charlie’s sac, toying with his hole.

  Charlie’s back arched off the bed. His expression was a mixture of the yearning and ecstasy that was sex.

  Charlie’s fingers tangled in Blaine’s hair. “No teasing,” he ground out. “Just get it done.”

  After a long, slow lap from the base to the head, Blaine engulfed Charlie’s cock, sucking him so hard and fast that Charlie’s butt came off the mattress. She was no longer sated, her nerves no longer over-stimulated. She rolled to her side, wanting to be a part of them more than the bindings would allow. She couldn’t reach Blaine, could just reach Charlie’s shoulder with her mouth. She kissed the smooth, taut skin, but that wasn’t enough. Desperate to taste, she bit, restraining herself, keeping it light. He was sweet and salty, fresh and musky, warmth and love.

  His groans intensified, and she lifted her head to watch. His grip tightened in Blaine’s hair, and the veins in his forearm stood out. His hips thrust, the arch and strain in his body beautiful.

  Charlie threw his head back, and his mouth opened on a soundless cry. His hips froze then jerked, and Blaine’s throat worked as he swallowed Charlie’s come.

  She whimpered and fought the restraints. She needed them, wanted them to fill her.

  Blaine released Charlie then kissed a trail up his body until he hovered over his mouth. Their lips touched, but they weren’t patient and gentle. Blaine took him completely, seeming to suck the soul out of him. It was so beautiful, she forgot about her need until Charlie wrenched away.

  “She’s ready,” he said. “Fuck her. Now.”

  Blaine dug in the bedside drawer for the condom.

  She rolled onto her back and opened her legs for him. While she waited, Charlie stroked her pussy. Blaine took forever, but it was worth the wait when he covered her with his body, probed her with his cock. She lifted to take him, and he sank inside her. Each twitch and thrust heightened her desire and twisted the coil of pleasure in her pelvis tighter. With her arms bound above her head, her back arching so her breasts reached for him and her legs spreading wider with each drive of his hips, she felt exposed and vulnerable and incredibly sexy.

  Their gazes found each other and held. This was more than sex. It was there in his eyes. She felt it in her heart. It wasn’t wrapped up in her feelings for Charlie, didn’t diminish her feelings for Charlie. It was separate. Distinct. She’d felt it that night with Dylan and hadn’t understood because wanting two men, loving two men wasn’t right. Thankfully, she didn’t have to shovel her way through that BS again.

  When the coil of pleasure imploded, she didn’t know if the waves of ecstasy shooting through her were psychological or physical or both. Blaine’s climax pulsed inside her, drawing out her orgasm, intensifying it until she didn’t care.

  The bindings around her wrists loosened and released. Instinctively, she hugged Blaine and kissed his shoulders, his throat, his face.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Beautiful.”

  The tangle that had been her and Blaine unraveled and twined together again with Charlie. Their breathing and heartbeats synced, and Meredith drifted on a warm pool of contentment.

  Charlie kissed her shoulder. “What’s bothering you, Doc?”

  “Ummm. Nothing.” She didn’t have the energy to be bothered by anything. If the house were on fire, someone would have to carry her out. She smiled and snuggled down between the two men.

  “Something’s been eating at you,” he said.

  Contentment evaporated, and her warm cocoon became confined, suffocating. She wasn’t ready. She’d planned on telling them. But not tonight. Tomorrow. Or the next day. Soon. Before she left.

  They waited, their even breathing and heartbeats and the cricket the only sounds in the room.

  She’d rehearsed her speech all day, how she would start, the precise wording, but now she could only remember bits and pieces that put together wouldn’t make sense.

  Charlie stroked her. “Hey, it can’t be that bad. Just spit it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Blaine said. “Does it have anything to do with Boston?”

  “Boston?” Charlie asked at the same time she said, “How did you—” Of course, he’d seen the search for flights on her laptop.

  It was the perfect opening. No need to figure out how to work Cassandra into the conversation. They were asking. But this wasn’t a conversation she could have in the nude. She crawled from between them and out of bed. The first shirt she found was Blaine’s lying on the floor. She slipped it over her head and arms, loving that his scent still lingered. She sat cross-legged on the end of the bed.

  Charlie and Blaine had propped themselves against the headboard. Charlie held out a hand to her. “Come here. I need to touch you.”

  God, she needed his touch. She scooted between them. Charlie took her hand in his, and his thumb began a swirling massage of her palm. She laced her other hand through Blaine’s and squeezed.

  She took a deep breath. “I have a daughter.”

  There was a break in Charlie’s strokes. Just the smallest hesitation to suggest his surprise before he resumed. “Okay. Go on.”

  “She’s not really my daughter. I gave birth to her, but I gave her up when she was born.” She flicked her gaze to Blaine. “I was nineteen.”

  She could see him thinking, calculating. His eyes widened when suspicion hit him.

  She swallowed. Please don’t be angry. But how could he not be? He’d told her to call if something happened. She hadn’t. Cassandra probably wasn’t his, but she might be, and he had been there when she’d been conceived. Meredith had come to understand Blaine well enough over the last few weeks to know he’d feel some responsibility. Didn’t matter whether C
assandra was his or not.

  “I got pregnant that night.” She didn’t elaborate on which night. They knew. “I didn’t suspect it at first. I mean, I was on the pill so there was no reason to. I wasn’t feeling well, hadn’t been for a while. I thought maybe I had an ulcer or something. So I went to the doctor.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t an ulcer.”

  Blaine looked bewildered. “Why didn’t you call me? You should have called me.”

  “I told Dylan. He denied the baby was his, told me to get an abortion.”

  “I told you to call me.” The hurt in his voice grabbed her heart and twisted.

  She had to fix it. “It wasn’t your problem.”

  “It was,” Blaine insisted. “I was there that night. If I hadn’t been, Dylan’s condom might have stayed intact. Hell, for all we know, I’m the father. It’s a possibility. We both...” He glanced guiltily at Charlie.

  “Yes, it’s possible but not probable,” Meredith said firmly.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you call her?” Charlie snapped. “Why did you put everything on her? You fucked her and abandoned her. You didn’t call her. You didn’t see her. You didn’t do a damn thing to get in touch with her or make sure she was okay.”

  Oh God, no! Not this. She hadn’t expected this—that her admission would cause a rift between Charlie and Blaine. She jerked her hand from Charlie’s and scooted closer to Blaine, protecting him. “Don’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his responsibility. It doesn’t do any good to discuss should’ves and could’ves. It’s done. Everything worked out fine. Cassandra has a great family.”

  “It’s not fine,” Charlie said. “I knew there was more. This is it, isn’t it?”

  She took a fortifying breath. “Yes.”

  “Your tat. The dandelion. It’s in honor of your daughter, isn’t it?” Charlie’s expression became tender.

  “It’s an open adoption. Her dads send me photos and letters four times a year. On her birthday, Christmas, my birthday, and Mother’s Day. For her third birthday, they sent me a photo of her blowing dandelion seeds.” She choked on her tears and couldn’t finish. Couldn’t tell them everything the picture had meant to her. The playfulness, the freedom, the innocence. The hope that her decision had gifted all of that to her daughter and more. The love.

  She’d gotten the tat a few months ago. She’d needed something, had hoped the ink would fill that hole in her heart. She’d cried while the tattoo artist worked. Not from the physical pain. That had been nothing compared to the pain so shallowly buried within her.

  Charlie said, “It’s a beautiful tribute to her and to your love for her.”

  “I’m flying to Boston to see her on Friday.” She hastened to assure Charlie so he didn’t think she was abandoning him, too, “You’ll be better by then.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’ll be the first time since she was born. She’s seven, almost eight. She’s naturally curious about me. Has been for a while. It’s time. It’s past time.” She spoke more to herself than to them. “I knew that, but I didn’t want to confuse her.”

  “I’m going with you,” Charlie said.

  “No. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. You need to take it easy.” When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “Really. This is something I need to do by myself.”

  “I should go,” Blaine whispered. In a firmer voice he said, “I’m going. I should do a paternity test. If it rules me out, then we’ll know it was Dylan. If it’s me, well, then her parents will have that information if they ever need it. And she’ll have it when she’s old enough.”

  She couldn’t help but compare his reaction to Dylan’s. Blaine was stepping up even though the child probably wasn’t his. Dylan had been an asshole. “You’d be okay knowing you’re her dad but not being her dad?”

  He didn’t answer, and she didn’t press for one.

  “Look, this is a shock for you. You need to think about it, let it sink in. I’ve had almost more than eight years to deal with it and I still have questions. You’ve had, what...eight minutes? I know you feel a sense of responsibility, of urgency. They’re moving to Houston in August. That’ll give you time to process everything, figure it out.”

  “I can still go with you. You’ll need someone. You shouldn’t go through this alone.”

  She wanted to take him up on his offer, but she felt guilty. He had a business to run, a campaign to finish. Charlie wasn’t a hundred percent, so there wasn’t much he could do with the ranch outside of the office. “You need to take care of business, and have you forgotten the campaign? You’ll have your hands full. Really, guys. I can do this. And it’ll be easier without an audience.”

  “What about your sister or brother? Your parents?” Charlie asked.

  “I haven’t told them. I just—how do I explain? I don’t want to overwhelm her. I don’t want to descend on her world like a plague of locusts. I want her to meet everyone eventually, but one, maybe two, at a time. You know?”

  “How long will you be there?” Blaine asked.

  “A few days. It’s kind of open-ended.”

  “Did you think this would change things?” Charlie asked.

  “Not so much with you.” She paused and turned to Blaine. “But yeah.” She twisted their fingers together, afraid to let go.

  “I just wish you’d told me,” he said. “I could’ve been there for you. I could’ve helped.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Can I see a picture of her?” Blaine asked, his voice so low she had to strain to hear it.

  “I don’t have one with me.” Why hadn’t she thought to bring one? Of course he’d want to see her.

  He looked surprised. “Not on your phone or your computer?”

  “That’s something a parent does. I’m not her parent.” She blinked back tears.

  “Hey, you gave birth to her.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, didn’t even try. There was one more thing she had to get off her chest. “After she was born—” Ah God, there was that stabbing pain in her belly again.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked.

  She shook her head but didn’t speak as she breathed through it. After the pain subsided she continued. “It was so much more than a broken heart. It still hurts. Not as badly, but there’s a constant ache, sometimes sharper, more intense than others. But it’s always there. I couldn’t handle any more, and I made sure I wouldn’t have to.” Would they understand? Should she go into details about the tubal ligation?

  There was silence as they processed what she’d said.

  “I get it. I think,” Charlie said. “No children?”

  “Yes. I could do IVF if I ever changed my mind, but I don’t think I will. I just—I have no desire.” The admission was cleansing. Now, they knew everything. No more secrets.

  “You know I’m not with you because of your baby-making potential, right?”

  “Actually, no. We haven’t known each other very long.” In fact, she didn’t know why he was with her. Except the sex. Because face it. The sex was great. She knew he felt more for her than that, but she didn’t understand why. She loved him, and that baffled her, too. She’d been so careful to shield her heart. But he’d started chipping away at her armor on that first date.

  And Blaine? He was already tugging at her heart. She was running full speed toward a cliff, knowing that when she dug her heels in at the edge, it would be too late. She was going over.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Blaine knocked on Charlie’s door. When Charlie didn’t answer, Blaine invited himself in. The door between Charlie’s room and bathroom was closed. Blaine sat on the bed and waited, listening to the splatter of the shower.

  When the water cut off, he straightene
d expectantly. It would be their first time to talk since Meredith’s departure an hour ago. He needed to know where Charlie’s head was.

  Charlie strolled from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his red hair glistening from the shower. When he realized he wasn’t alone, he stopped, hands braced on his hips, legs spread, feet planted. The bruises over his ribs had faded to a blotchy yellow and the scrapes and scratches were healing. They weren’t as angry-looking.

  “I don’t like her going alone,” Charlie said.

  “She won’t be for long. I couldn’t get on her flight, and that’s probably a good thing. But I leave an hour after her. It’s not nonstop, but since she’s going straight from the airport to Cassandra’s, I’ll be there before she gets to the hotel. I left her to deal alone before. I’m not doing it again. I don’t care how pissed she gets. I’m going to Boston.”

  “Good.” Charlie rummaged around in his closet. He stuffed his arms through the sleeves of a denim shirt then slipped on jeans and tossed the towel on a chair in the corner.

  “Is this gonna change things with us?” Blaine asked. “If Cassandra is mine and Meredith’s, will you be okay with that?”

  “Are you asking if I’ll be jealous because you have that connection?”

  “Yeah.”

  Charlie sat next to him, and their arms bumped before settling comfortably against each other. That contact assured Blaine more than words could have. “I don’t think so. But I am worried about you.”

  “I fucked up. I know that. But Meredith was right. It’s done. As much as I want to, I can’t go back and undo it.” And God, what he wouldn’t give for a do-over. “I can only do the right thing going forward.”

  Charlie dropped his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and pulled him in to kiss the top of his head. Blaine almost cried in relief. As long as they kept touching, kept talking, they’d be okay. They’d get through this. “How would you feel about being a daddy? About the possibility that you’ve been a father for almost eight years?”