Erica's Choice

by Sami Lee

  Griff could have objected once more to her penchant for keeping score about this stuff, but who was he kidding? When she sat on the bed and reached for his jeans to open them, all he could think about was how good it would feel if he simply let her blow him. “I have to appreciate your sense of fair play, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not doing you any favors.” A few more movements of her hands and his jeans were resting low on his hips. Erica stared at the substantial boner he’d worked up on account of her—her and Corey. “I really enjoy having you in my mouth.”

  “I really enjoy being there.”

  Enjoy was such an inadequate word to describe the drugging ripple and spark of sensations that overtook him when she parted her lips and wrapped them around his pulsing head. Griff groaned as she moved down and over him, circling her tongue on his shaft for lubrication until he slid more easily into her sultry recesses. “Oh yeah, like that. Christ, that’s so soft and wet.”

  Closing his eyes, Griff let his neck go rubbery until his head drifted back. He couldn’t believe Erica had ever lacked confidence in this area. She had a way of drawing a man into a trance with the tender press of her lips and the lazy swirls of her tongue. Griff fast lost himself in it. Then something in the atmosphere shifted, like a hot breeze travelling past him. The whine of bedsprings made Griff open his eyes.

  Corey had returned from the bathroom and now sat on the edge of the mattress beside Erica. His avid gaze fixed on the slow bob of her head with a look Griff could only think of as hungry. Corey shifted the curtain of Erica’s hair out of the way so he could get a better view of what she was doing.

  In Erica’s mouth, Griff’s cock flexed. The leak of precome was quickly swallowed with an excited little moan that made Griff fear the real thing was already on its way. He braced his hand on her cheek, the one that Corey wasn’t touching, and gently urged her off. “Give me a sec.”

  Erica released him but continued delivering soft licks to his head and the tender spot just under the crown. “Hmm…you taste nice.”

  Beside her, Corey groaned. There was such longing in the sound that Griff had to grab the base of his shaft and apply pressure to stop an embarrassing premature incident.

  Corey’s baby blues burned like lasers as he assessed Griff’s reaction. Erica stared at him too, her fathomless dark eyes all-knowing, all-seeing in a way that was scary but somehow also soothing. As Griff watched, she stuck out her tongue and gave his cock a little butterfly flick. The steady eye contact was as sexy as the tickle on his taut skin. She repeated the maneuver a few more times, before shifting aside to place a soft kiss on his hip.

  Corey stared at him, a question in his eyes. Ah, Christ. Griff knew what Erica was up to, what she was encouraging Corey to do, and it made him suck in a breath.

  Erica cupped her hand around Griff’s girth and began a slow up-and-down stroke. Griff moved his own hand out of the way, threading it through her hair and letting her cadence hypnotize him. He stared at her, but his peripheral awareness of Corey didn’t dim. He sensed his friend’s curiosity, his craving, but the trepidation was there as well, as real as his hot, uneven breaths fanning across the tip of Griff’s cock.

  Griff wasn’t going to ask. He couldn’t bring himself to discourage Corey either, not this time.

  Erica’s free hand wandered, exploring the contours of Griff’s chest. The tip of her pinkie finger grazed his nipple at the same moment as another butterfly flick rushed his blood.

  Jesus fucking Christ. Griff watched, tortured by anticipation, as Corey leaned forward and did it again, this time ending the flick with a swirling lick the way Erica had been doing.

  Afterward he sat back, his eyes wide as though he’d surprised himself. Then he made a sound at the back of his throat and dipped his head again.

  Corey’s lips were cool on Griff’s fire-hot shaft. Where Erica’s movements were soft and teasing, Corey’s were tentative and awkward. Widening his mouth, Corey pushed down on Griff’s cock, trying to take too much in at once.

  When he gagged and pulled back, Griff felt like he’d been slapped. “You don’t have to.”

  “Shh.” The admonishment came from Erica, who put her hand on Griff’s ass, keeping him in place when she sensed he might retreat. “It’s okay.”

  She drew the tip of his dick into her mouth, pressing her lips together and sucking in a way that made Griff groan and forget all about Corey’s rebuff. A moment later she released him, keeping up the motion of her hand.

  Once again Corey lowered his head. This time he was careful to only take the tip of Griff’s cock between his lips. He kept the fit snug, sucking on the mushroom head like a lollipop, exactly as Erica had done.

  Damned if Erica Shannon, his prudish, reserved English teacher, wasn’t giving Corey a blow-job lesson. Griff had never been so happy to be a guinea pig in his life.

  “That’s it, Corey, just a little at a time.” With her free hand Erica stroked Corey’s hair, encouraging him as she kept her other hand wrapped tight around Griff’s shaft, pumping him as Corey licked and sucked at the tip. “Rotate your tongue around the top, he likes that.”

  When Corey did it, Griff swore and shoved his hands into his hair. All the better to keep from grabbing the back of Corey’s neck and thrusting his cock all the way into his friend’s virgin mouth. “Jesus, Red. You’ve gotta hurry it up or I’m gonna die.”

  Erica merely smiled.

  “Keep doing that, Corey, but move a little bit more in every time you swallow.” Corey groaned, his lips vibrating on Griff’s staff. He did as Erica said, inching more of Griff’s meat past the back of his tongue. “That’s it. Now hold him here, stroke up and down the way I’ve been doing.”

  Corey grabbed Griff’s dick and the added pressure, the fine-sandpaper sensation of calluses on his fingertips dragged a groan from Griff’s throat. He started moving his hand up and down in time with the motion of his head.

  Heaven. Utter heaven.

  Griff gave himself over to the rhythm, though it wasn’t always consistent or smooth and the occasional scrape of Corey’s teeth made him wince. He’d dreamed of plunging his hard cock into Corey Wachawski’s sexy mouth more times than he should have, he was hardly going to correct the guy. Especially not when Erica was so good at it anyway.

  Yet a coolness on his right side told Griff she’d moved away. Where? He opened his eyes to see her reclining on the bed watching them. Between her legs, her hand moved in a harried motion.

  Oh fuck, Erica you beautiful thing.

  It hit Griff then, the emancipating, glorious truth. Erica was nothing like Anna Hendricks. Anna, who’d tolerated Jack’s interest in Griff only so long before ensuring through subtle machinations that all eyes were once again on her. Anna had never been aroused by the sight of Griff and Jack together, although she’d never outright told them to hurry up so she could have her time. Anna had never once had to get herself off watching her boyfriend give Griff a blow job.

  And Corey… How could he ever have compared Corey to Jack Chambers? For Jack this act had always been about control, not giving pleasure. The innate generosity shamed Griff. He should have been more open with himself. He should have been the one doing all the giving instead of Erica and Corey, who were more uncertain of themselves than any two people he’d ever been with.

  Trouble was, Griff wasn’t sure that kind of emotional courage was in him anymore.

  Gently, Griff wound his fingers through Corey’s hair, noting how glossy it was—as glossy as Erica’s. He lifted him off. The anguish in Corey’s blue irises pierced Griff through. “Did I stuff it up?”

  Griff shook his head. “No way. You’re doing great. I’m so fucking hard for the feel of your mouth, but I’m not gonna blow my load in there.”

  “Griff…” Corey rolled his eyes.

  “Trust me, it takes some getting used to.” Griff pulled Corey close, pressing his cheek to the flat expanse of his stomach. “Look at Erica. You’re turning her on too.”
<
br />   Erica lay on her side now, her eyes soft as she watched their exchange. Her fingers still worked in languid circles on her clit.

  “Oh, baby,” Corey breathed, reaching out to touch her cheek.

  “You hard there, Cor?”

  “Shit yeah.”

  Griff stepped back. “Show me.”

  Corey’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He leaned back on one elbow and grabbed his cock with his free hand, giving the stiff column a few good tugs. Despite having come like gangbusters not so long ago, he was as big and red as a damn fire hydrant.

  Oh to be twenty-five again. “Keep doing that. Erica, come over here and help him out.”

  Getting up on all fours, Erica stalked the bed until she reached Corey. Corey’s eyes and head rolled back when Erica about swallowed him whole, moving her mouth with the motion of Corey’s hand.

  Griff climbed on the bed, settling on his knees beside Corey. He presented him with his throbbing hard-on. “Lick it like you did before.”

  Corey stuck out his tongue and ran it up Griff’s length. God, he was so close he could almost come from that one swipe of the other man’s tongue. “That’s it, Cor. You know what to do with that mouth of yours. You like sucking cock while you’re getting your own blown?”

  His only answer was a moan that he wrapped around Griff’s dick as Erica increased the pace of her sucking. Griff turned to see her bent over Corey’s supine form, working him like she was greedy for his taste. Between her legs, her hand moved faster and faster, and her hips thrust back and forth into her own touch.

  Beneath him, Corey hollowed his cheeks and Griff knew he was going to lose it. He pulled out of Corey’s mouth and started pumping hard, massaging his balls, feeling the eruption reaching its peak. Erica made a muffled squeal, her hips gyrating hard. Her orgasm ripped Griff’s from him. He came in powerful jets, streaking his come all over Corey’s chest.

  “Oh, God…Griff.” Corey reached down and grasped Erica’s head, holding her to him as his hips jerked. “Baby, yeah. I’m coming now.”

  Erica drank every last drop until Corey was flat out panting on the mattress, staring at the ceiling like a man who’d had a not-unpleasant knock on the head. Griff knew exactly how he felt. He dropped down beside him, while Erica found her way to the narrow space between them.

  No one said a word for long moments while the rain continued to fall on the tin roof, trickling into the gutters and down the drainpipes. Gutters probably needed clearing. Griff made a mental note to take care of that when it fined up.

  First lawn mowing, making breakfasts and now gutter duty. You’re acting very domesticated, Dale. Domesticated and ashamed of himself for not being more emotionally accessible. This way lies danger.

  “Darn it!”

  Erica sat bolt upright, staring at the bedside alarm. “I’m going to be so late. Darn it, darn it, darn it!”

  As she scrambled off the bed, Griff drawled, “Why don’t you go ahead and say fuck it, Red. The profanity ship’s sailed already.”

  “That word is only appropriate in certain circumstances.” Erica slapped him on the leg as she ran for the bathroom.

  Griff laughed. Beside him, Corey didn’t say a word. Quietly he used the sheet to wipe off Griff’s stickiness. “You all right?” Griff asked.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.” Way to make the dialogue sparkle. Sitting up, Griff reached for his jeans and dragged them on. “You were great, by the way. Phenomenal first-time effort.”

  “Do I get a gold star with that glowing review?”

  Griff winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” Corey sat up and reached for his own pants, which were hanging over the timber post at the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure what to say. Is this how it always is after?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Corey averted his gaze. He stood and pulled on his jeans. “Do guys never hug?”

  Griff’s heart fissured, expanding so far it felt like it could crack his rib cage. He stared at Corey’s broad, strong back and was amazed anew at the guy’s willingness to show vulnerability when so many men wouldn’t dare. When he didn’t dare.

  In two strides Griff was behind Corey, wrapping his arms around his waist and drawing him back into a fierce embrace. “Shit, Cor. Anytime you want a hug, you only have to ask.”

  He laughed ruefully. “Now I know why chicks always complain when you can’t read their minds. Can’t you tell what I want, dickbrain?”

  Griff slid one hand down to cup Corey through his jeans. “I’m better at reading this dick than anyone’s brain. Sorry I’m such a shit. Next time you blow me I’ll make a note to cuddle after.”

  “Shut up. Next time you can blow me.”

  Placing an open-mouthed kiss on Corey’s neck, Griff murmured, “That can be arranged.”

  “What about the time after that?”

  “Meaning?”

  Corey turned so he could meet Griff’s gaze over his shoulder. “Are you going to make me beg for what I want the way you do Erica?”

  A mental picture of Corey bent over, screaming at Griff to fuck his tight ass fired Griff’s nerve endings. He gave the package he still had his hand on a tender massage. “Only if you like it that way.”

  Griff heard him swallow before answering. Beneath Griff’s hand, Corey’s heart thudded. “I think I would.”

  Damned if Griff’s thirty-six-year-old dick didn’t stir to life like it was twenty-five again. “Tease. Now I gotta go to work with a hard-on.”

  Corey laughed and Griff released him with a curse. A moment later Erica came tearing back into the room throwing on clothes in fast motion. Griff went to the kitchen and put her oats into a Tupperware container, handing it to her as she grabbed her purse and keys.

  “Thank you.” She leapt up and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she did the same to Corey. “Remember to lock up when you leave. Sometimes you have to use the key though because the lock is temperamental. Here.” She fished her spare off the key ring and placed it on the kitchen counter.

  Erica stared at it a moment, paling at the implications she must have only then acknowledged. She’d given them a key to her house. Whether she dismissed her concerns or simply didn’t have time to deal with them, she said nothing further as she offered them a watery smile before racing out the door.

  When she’d gone, Corey glanced at the key. “Did you see that?”

  “I’m not blind.”

  “She gave me a key.”

  “Us, mate,” Griff corrected. “She gave us a key.”

  He tried not to grin or let his heart beat out the thrill that burrowed inside him. Could this really work, the three of them? They’re nothing like Anna and Jack, remember?

  Tamping down the surge of hope, Griff reminded himself that was no guarantee a relationship between the three of them would work. The inherent complexities of a triad provided difficult-enough waters to navigate, but the fact he and Corey worked together added another dimension. Watching him take risks on the job had never been easy, but now it was downright heartrending. Griff’s emotions ran so deep he had to cordon them off altogether if he was to continue functioning as a firefighter. He couldn’t sustain that level of self-restraint long term. Something would have to give—the job or the relationship.

  Fighting fires was what Griff did. He’d been doing it for fifteen years and he couldn’t see himself switching careers. He knew Corey felt the same. No two ways about it, if he had to give something up in order to save his sanity, it would be the relationship.

  Besides, he’d already promised Corey he’d walk away.

  Just not yet, Griff told himself as he watched Corey pick up the key and kiss it like it was a winning lottery ticket. Just let me have a little longer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She should never have given them that key.

  The changes had seemed harmless enough in the beginning. Instead of calling first to ask if
he could visit, Erica arrived home from school one Tuesday to find Corey’s dilapidated Ford in her driveway and him already inside, making himself at home by using her shower. The surprise made her heart jump with a mixture of ire and excitement. Determined to lay down some ground rules about what he could and could not use her spare key for, the intended diatribe died on Erica’s lips when Corey emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in only a towel and a whole lot of sex appeal.

  “Hey, baby.” The lingering dampness on his body wet her blouse as he walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her feet off the ground. “God it’s good to see you.”

  All thought of haranguing him disintegrated at the weary words. “Bad day?”

  “One thing after another since I started this morning. There was a three-car prang on the inner-city bypass, and this afternoon an old couple lost the house they’ve lived in for fifty years because of a faulty tumble dryer.”

  Erica stroked the tired lines on his forehead. “How awful.”

  “I know. They were a nice couple too.” Corey brushed the hair back from her face and offered a ghost of a smile. “Do you always look this good when you get home from work? If so, I’ll have to make sure I’m here to meet you more often.”

  That reminded her why she was supposed to be peeved at him. “What do you think you’re doing, letting yourself into my house, by the way?”

  “Saving time. I was going to come around anyway, and this place is closer to the station than my apartment.”

  Erica arched a brow. “Oh you were going to come over anyway, were you?”

  His slow smile brimmed with self-assurance. The soft kiss he placed on her lips teased her annoyance away. The feel of those lips, the hard crush of his body molding hers to it, took Erica’s breath. Against his lips, she asked, “Don’t they have showers at the fire station?”

  “I wanted an excuse to be naked in your house.”

  Erica reached for the towel wrapped around his waist, barely concealing the jut of his erection. “Since when do you need an excuse?”