by Amber Lin
He paused. Then the doors started to slide, and he jabbed his finger on the button to keep the door open. “Maddy?” he finally muttered, his indecision clear.
She smiled, because he’d already given himself away with that finger. That button. “I don’t think you’ll mind.”
His tension radiated to her, like heat, like desire. “It didn’t—”
She waited, patient, because whatever it was, he needed to say it.
“Didn’t work out so well before.”
No, it hadn’t. And she still wasn’t quite done being mad at Lock and Hailey for using him that way. Mad at Krist for letting himself be used. He had a fan base who adored him. A thousand gorgeous women who would drop their panties if he frowned in their direction, but he’d gotten on his knees for Lock and paid the price.
That video would haunt his career forever, no matter what kind of PR Band-Aids they applied. And the fake engagement? It was only temporary. The sting when they ripped it off would hurt them both.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Your call.”
“No,” he said, voice tight. Eyes dark. “Don’t mind.”
They both looked at Paige.
Krist cleared his throat. “Only if you—”
“I’m in,” she breathed.
She stepped inside, and the doors closed behind her. All three of them stood at opposite ends of the small elevator, not touching. Barely breathing. The knowledge of Krist’s video pulsed between them, the certainty that they were even now being recorded.
Maddy examined her perfectly manicured nails. Keeping up appearances that this was a business interaction, like the three of them in the limo. Nothing inappropriate here. Move along.
But inside she was pulled tight, a knot of tension and need. Of hope and regret she could already imagine for tomorrow morning.
And still, she’d do nothing to stop it.
The whole world had seen Krist in a threesome, but not like this. There he’d been a third wheel. She knew it, and judging by the ever-present scowl on his face, Krist knew it too. Maddy would make him the center of it. Maddy would goddamn worship his body. Maddy would take away every doubt he’d ever had—that he was wrong, that he was unwanted—because she knew exactly how horrible that felt.
She could make him feel so good he’d flinch, give him so much pain he’d moan. She could give him a night he’d never, ever forget.
And in doing so, he’d never forget her either.
*
On the long list of his worst ideas ever, this one had to be near the top. Group sex was obviously going to be the end of his career…and Maddy’s. It had worked so well for him in the past. Sure, they should absolutely have a threesome with her little assistant. That wouldn’t end in a lawsuit or a seven-figure tabloid tell-all deal. Did this count as sexual harassment? Would that breech whatever nondisclosure agreement Paige had signed?
He watched the floors light up on the elevator display, careful not to look at Paige in case the camera behind the mirrored ceiling could somehow capture the tension coiling ever tighter between the three of them. As hot as it had been hearing Maddy recount all the dirty things she made her assistant do…that was fantasy. Sometimes fantasy didn’t hold up to reality. Sometimes reality ruined it. Sometimes reality posted it on RedTube, and you spent all your time answering questions about it instead of the music. Fuck.
His stomach dropped, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the gravity lurch or the painful realization that at least if this leaked, it wouldn’t hurt him. This was exactly the kind of debauchery middle America cut their teeth on, gnawed right down to the marrow. The label would love it as long as nobody got sued. Maddy’s label, though, they’d drop her faster than a one-hit wonder headed straight for the bargain bin.
The doors snicked open, and he held himself back, letting them lead the way. Paige looped her arm through Maddy’s, and he tried to imagine how the casual affection would read on film. Not innocent. Not with him looming behind them, eyes on their asses.
The door closed, and he hissed out a relieved breath. The elevator had been an air lock, and they were finally on dry land. “You can’t afford the press from this. No offense, Paige.”
“None taken. You’re right, she can’t. But neither can I. Even if the NDA wasn’t ironclad, I’m not hot enough to rocket to pseudo-stardom on the hype of a sex scandal. And—”
“No. You’re—”
Paige shook her head and stopped him before he could say…what? That she was really cute in that girl-next-door kind of way that would have the world asking how she’d ended up in their evil clutches.
“I know we’re about to get down and dirty, so you want to contradict me. Don’t. I’ve got nothing to lose here, but I don’t have anything to gain either. I’m not courting infamy.”
“Then why?” Krist asked.
Paige laughed softly, and her cheeks blotched pink beneath freckles. “Because you’re both fucking hot? Because Madeline invited me, and you didn’t say no? Because I want to?”
Maddy flopped onto the couch and snorted. The ugly noise was the most adorable thing he’d ever heard, like a kitten sneezing, reflexive and genuine. She looked every inch the bemused goddess with her legs dangling over the overstuffed arm and her smile slow like honey. “If you say YOLO, swear to God, you’re fired.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Paige smirked, and then her gaze flickered. “Is your back bothering you again?”
“It’s fine.” She winced, and Krist wondered if she was lying again. How often did she work through pain?
“If you aren’t up for this…” He waved his hands between them.
“Oh, I’m up for it. I’m so up for it it hurts. The question is”—she swooped her legs over in a dramatic fan, stood, took the three smooth steps that closed the distance between them and slipped her hands between his legs—“are you?”
“Yes.” He groaned as her deft fingers coaxed his cock to hardness while Paige watched them, wide-eyed. Not with shock. Judging by the arch of her brow and the way she bit her lip, she watched with anticipation. Paige smiled at him over Maddy’s shoulder. He could almost feel that crooked-tooth grin pressed against his inner thigh, the nip and tug as Maddy pushed her down. His lingering worries were drowned out by the pulse beating against the palm of Maddy’s hand.
“Paige, honey? I think Krist needs some wardrobe assistance. This shirt is all wrong, and these pants are getting smaller by the second.”
And then Paige was behind him, silently tugging his shirt up and dragging her fingers over his ribs. He lifted his arms so she could finish the job, holding his hips very still so Maddy wouldn’t stop her stroking.
Paige folded his shirt and set it on the coffee table. She moved with brisk efficiency, such a contrast to Maddy’s languid, teasing…everything. Would she assist them both? If he told her to take Maddy’s dress off too, to take off her own top, would the spell be broken? His mind raced with possibilities, with all the ways they could touch and be touched, and then narrowed to pinpoint focus as Maddy squeezed his cock through his pants. Hard. As if she could see his mental gymnastics. Paige reached around him to grab hold of his belt buckle and pressed her chest to his naked back. Maddy released his erection to let Paige fumble with his zipper.
“Off with his pants.” Maddy giggled, dropping to her knees. He wanted to live in her bubbling laugh. Was it Paige making her so happy, or was it him? Cool hotel air whooshed over his freed cock. He lost the trail of his thoughts as Paige’s hand wrapped around its base and Maddy’s tongue curled around its head.
“Soft or hard? How do you like it?” Paige asked.
“Hard.”
Maddy looked up the length of him and grazed her teeth over his shaft in answer. In correction. He jerked, pleasure jolting electric and then shimmering sparks as she swirled her tongue over the sensitive ridge just beneath the tip. She released him with a pop, lips slick and starting to go puffy. “You like it rough. Tell her, Krist.”
“I do.
”
Maddy raked her nails down his thighs, and he squirmed, resisting the urge to look down, to inspect the pale tracks. She touched him lightly, playful but promising so much more. “Be specific, baby.”
Of course she wanted him to spell it out. That got her off. Making him say things he didn’t want to say. Do things he didn’t want to do. And she knew it got him off too. Somehow she’d figured him out. That realization lifted a weight off his shoulders, a burden he’d chosen to carry long before he’d realized how heavy it would get. She’s giving me what I want because it’s what she wants.
“Scratch. Pinch. Bite. Slap. Use me.” All he could manage were single syllable words, saying them out loud as much of a turn-on as actually doing them or having them done to him. It felt like the chorus of a song. A refrain. Suddenly joyful when everything before had been sorrow. Like Maddy’s laugh. His body hummed with it. “Play with me.”
Paige tugged at the skin-warm steel through his nipples, and Maddy pressed a kiss to the head of his dick. He grunted at the dual sensations, the sharp and the soft. They didn’t just want to be with him to say they’d done it. Neither of them was going home in the morning to tell their friends they fucked that guy from Half-Life. He wasn’t just a line item on some bucket list. Or a means to an end. Maddy wasn’t giving him to Paige like a dirty Valentine destined to backfire. Was this…fun? It felt alien, and wonderful.
“We can do that. Whatever you want,” Maddy said.
Want. It echoed in his mind, nearly became a tangible thing in the room with them. A desperate fourth, turning their threesome into an orgy.
“Show me how she helps you.” The words felt rough in his throat, and he had to force them out around the flood of desires he needed to voice. He wanted to see Paige’s head buried between Maddy’s legs. He wanted to watch her tongue dart between slick folds—brisk and efficient—and then when Maddy’s breathing shallowed, when her mouth fell open in panting pleasure, he’d slide his cock between her lips and she could moan her orgasm around him while he came at the back of her throat. He wanted Maddy to ride his face, her sweet cunt making a mess from nose to chin, while Paige bounced on his dick. He wanted them to force him to lie perfectly still while they trailed bites up the insides of his arms and thighs. He wanted. He wanted. His vision went hazy.
He’d forgotten to breathe.
Maddy nodded and tugged at the back of her dress. “I do need a little assistance with this zipper.”
Paige held his gaze as she worked the zipper down so slowly he could almost hear the click of the individual teeth. As if to say, I’m here to help. We can stop anytime. She didn’t undress Maddy; she unwrapped her for him.
It wasn’t the porn-mag fantasy he’d envisioned, but it was hot as hell. Both of them standing naked and Paige fully dressed.
“Now you.” He rasped out the order, and Paige only blinked before pulling her top over her head.
Maddy’s eyes flashed annoyance—had he crossed a line? Was Paige only hers to order?—then softened as Paige shimmied out of her jeans.
The three of them stood naked in the middle of the suite, and nobody was touching anybody. Awkwardness washed over him. Had he ruined it?
Maddy tangled her fingers with Paige’s and wrapped her other hand around his dick. He sucked in a breath at the sudden intimate contact.
Paige’s grin turned wicked. “I’ve checked your schedule, Ms. Fox, and I’m pretty sure it’s bedtime.”
Off they went like a dirty round of follow-the-leader.
*
Maddy paused in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. It was like looking into a snow globe, but instead of a quaint little village blanketed in white she saw an oversized king bed and plush down blanket. And instead of smiling faces through the window, she saw Krist, expression tight, eager and needy, as he lay on the bed like some kind of offering. And Paige, so willing to assist, already kneeling at his side.
“Wait,” Maddy said, her voice husky.
They both paused, their expressions curious and impatient. Krist’s stomach muscles flexed as he struggled to comply. Paige’s hand hovered over his cock, not moving.
“Come here,” Krist said.
But he didn’t call the shots.
Maddy did. This scene, this snow globe belonged to her. She held it in her hand, but she still didn’t know how to fit inside. “You’ll do what I say.”
Paige quirked a half smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She advanced on them with the same sway she’d use down the runway in a stadium. Knowing she owned the crowd, small as it may be. “You’ll come when I say.”
Krist’s eyes widened a fraction. His breath hitched. “God, yes.”
He was so easy. Why should that turn her on so much? The way she could make him pant, make him beg. All she had to do was deny him everything.
She paused, tapping her jaw. “Or maybe you won’t come at all. I haven’t decided yet.”
His eyes darkened to black glass, opaque like the windows in the living room at night. She couldn’t see the city beyond, only her own reflection.
And she was so damn tired of looking at herself.
“Find us a blindfold, Paige. The tie of the robe should do nicely.”
Crisp sheets whispered as her assistant got up and went to the bathroom.
Maddy stepped next to the bed. Krist’s chest heaved up and down, the colorful ink playing with the light from the lamp. She ran a fingertip over him, lightly, as if he was made from blown glass. As if she could break him.
Suddenly that seemed like the best idea she’d ever had. Better than every party or hookup or line of coke. She’d look him right in the eye when he shattered, and she couldn’t cover his eyes anymore. Couldn’t blindfold him, but she had a better use for the tie. When Paige returned, Maddy said, “Tie him up.”
Her stomach clenched, watching Paige stack his wrists, one over the other, above his head.
“Let me,” Maddy said softly. She had to be the one to do this—to give this to him. Because it was a gift. Paige stepped back.
He licked his lips as Maddy bent over him.
“You want this?” she asked.
“Please.”
“Has anyone ever tied you up before?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t. A few taps on a camera phone and…” He let out a coarse laugh. “Didn’t matter in the end, though. They got a lot more than a few grainy pictures.”
She bent down to his ear and licked the curve, relishing his shiver. Then whispering, so only he could hear, she said, “We could leak a few grainy pictures of our own, you know.” She directed a pointed glance at his cock, which stood stiffly up from his abdomen. “You. Me. That. It would clear up a few things.”
He tensed. “What? No. They’d have a fucking field day with you.”
They’d burn her alive. Why would he care?
She took the tie and looped it through his wrists, feeling the bones and tendons and muscles shift beneath her fingers. These same hands made beautiful music. Music that haunted her. But not tonight. Bound together, they could only tighten and strain, made into blunt instruments, clenched into fists.
He struggled briefly, and she understood. He had to try to escape. It was the only way he’d feel secure.
She ran her hands along his chest, over his abs and to his hips.
Then he stilled. “What do…? What should I call you?”
She paused. Of course he’d want a special name, tied up like this. Something fancy and harsh, like Mistress or Madam. Or she could have him call her ma’am. She smiled down at him. “Call me princess.”
He blinked. “But I—”
She put a finger to his mouth. “The rules, remember. I tell you what to do. I tell you when.”
He struggled again, but this time the only evidence was a fierce light in his eyes. And a crease in his brow. Worry. Concern? How sweet. It was a name he had given her. A name she deserved.
Paige looked worried too, lik
e she wanted to intervene. “Madeline?”
No.
She told them what and when and how much. She told him what to call her. Princess.
He’d call her that when she raked her nails down his chest, like now, leaving pale lines through his ink before they turned pink. He’d call her that when she hurt him, and she’d hurt too, hearing him say it.
She pinched his nipple. “Well?”
His lips parted. She waited for the word to come, breath held, hating it and wanting it.
“I can’t,” he finally said. “I won’t. Not like this.”
Chapter Eleven
Damn, he wanted to stay tied up. Every muscle in his body tensed as he tugged against the soft cotton looped around his wrists. This wet dream come to life, this gorgeous train wreck. Yes, princess. Please, princess. May I, princess? But he didn’t feel at Maddy’s mercy; he felt like a puppet on a string. He felt choreographed and stylized. And it was bad choreography, awkward and unnatural. Choppy. He shivered against a chill that had more to do with the tension between them than any actual temperature. Poor Paige stood at the edge of the bed, naked, clutching and unclutching her hands like she didn’t know where to put them.
“Paige and I aren’t dolls,” Krist said. “You can’t dance us around the bed and make us kiss.”
“Don’t you want to kiss her?” Maddy pouted, kneading his chest, working her palms up to his shoulders, her every touch fighting back the chill.
“I want to see you kiss her.”
“Way to be original.” She rolled back, rocking against him, breasts bouncing and the heat of her cunt scorching his belly through the ruffled panties slung low on her hips. “A little girl-on-girl action for your rock-and-roll spank bank? I thought you understood.”
“I get it. I do. You’re not here to entertain us tonight. But if you’d only be kissing Paige to put on a show for me, we shouldn’t be doing this at all.”
“Should I go? I’m cool with kissing you both. Or not kissing. But standing here naked while you work out your issues? Not so much.” Paige took half a step backward, and if he had a hand free, he’d reach for her. Reassure her. Of what? That he knew what it was like to be a prop and he wouldn’t let that happen to her? How could he promise that? He wasn’t running this show. And that’s what this was right now, a show. They might not have cameras, but it was a performance all the same.