Control (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels)

by Stein, Charlotte

  I’m the crazy best friend.

  I’m not the cool and collected heroine, I’m the sidekick to the heroine, who persuades the square girl to explore her freaky-deaky side. I mean, I’m sure that in most romance novels the threesomes are much less full of emotional minefields, but even so. I’m all backwards and upside down and I have absolutely no idea what to tell her.

  Apart from: do it now. Don’t live through me, don’t wait for me to tell you exciting stories, before you go for it. You don’t need someone to persuade you into exploring everything there is about yourself, and even if it scares you … even if you’re terrified – and probably about all of the wrong things – it’s still more bliss than whatever nothing you were living before.

  All the things I’ve done with Gabe, all the things I’ve done with Andy, the things that both experiences have taught me about myself … I wouldn’t take it back. And it’s a relief, to actually realise and understand that – it really is.

  When Andy strolls down, as louche and pleased with himself as anyone could expect him to be, I don’t even flinch. Not a flicker. He cuts into Jeanette’s babble about all the things she suspects I’m doing and how bad I am and how awesome that is, with nothing more than a hey.

  Before he sticks out his hand, and introduces himself.

  Jeanette shakes, but looks at him like he’s a rock star as she does so.

  ‘Call me, babe,’ he says, before letting himself out. And then I wait, for Jeanette to explode.

  ‘You’re doing it with him, too?!’ she squeaks, as soon as the door goes. I see Andy glance through the window, smug, and know that he’s heard her.

  ‘It’s … complicated.’

  Boy, is it ever. In erotica, the dirty sidekick almost never gets close to the world of caring. It’s all just hot sex and mad escapades, while love is reserved for the semi-pure and half-decent heroine.

  Though I have to say – I don’t care how half-decent I am, or whether I’m only semi-pure or not. In fact I suspect I may well be not pure at all, and that thought sure does make me grin with every inch of my body.

  ‘Well, whatever it is, me and Derek –’ She stops mid-sentence, suddenly bright red and looking for her own books to reorganise.

  ‘You and Derek …?’ I say, and when she resists, I poke her. I’m definitely supposed to do that as the dirty sidekick, after all. ‘Come on – you’ve just worked out all my naughty secrets. Now it’s your turn.’

  She bursts it all out, in one big rush.

  ‘We had the wildest sex ever. Well – I made him have the wildest sex ever. I think! I don’t know. Anyway – we did it on the kitchen table. The kitchen table! Can you believe that?’

  I can believe that I adore Jeanette, in that moment. And I’m so happy, to have her as some sort of friend. I’m happy to be the dirty sidekick, to her semi-pure and half-decent heroine.

  He’s in the shower when I come upstairs – though I notice that the apartment has been tidied. Of course, that could have happened any time. He’s being staying over a lot, and it’s entirely possible that he cleans in the middle of the night. Puts magazines in a rack I didn’t know I had, stacks books on shelves that hadn’t seemed previously empty.

  And there’s something cooking, in the oven. I peer in, just to check it isn’t heat that’s simply baking the encrusted food on the oven door. But no – he’s made something and it smells like heaven and I think God, I might actually tell him that I feel the same way, tonight.

  Perhaps after I’ve fucked his arse through a wall. And talked to him about the ridiculous amount of showers.

  He flinches when I just walk right into the bathroom. Though I can partially understand why, given that he’s combing his hair into a neat side parting, while totally naked. He isn’t wearing his glasses and he’s turned sideways, facing the mirror above the sink, and I’m struck yet again by how handsome he is.

  And how slender. I think I’m going to have to give him most of whatever pasta thing is baking in the oven. Maybe as a reward, for how he instinctively covers his groin with one hand, and then kind of relaxes all over when he sees it’s me.

  ‘Experimenting with hairstyles?’ I ask, and he gets the joke. Turns back to the mirror, half-smiling.

  ‘I was thinking – straight up in the air, Billy Idol style.’

  ‘A little more like this would be good, I think,’ I say, and then he lets me turn him, and rake the comb through his hair. ‘Just a hint of body.’

  ‘You think it will make me look more handsome?’

  ‘I think I’d be hard pressed to do that.’

  He touches his tongue to his upper teeth in that way he has – the one that says: don’t be silly.

  ‘You are good-looking, you know.’

  I smooth his hair up, up, to make an attractive and almost ridiculous-looking bow, that sweeps over his forehead. It’s easy enough to do – his hair is so thick.

  ‘Not like Andy,’ he says, but he doesn’t sound cross or resentful. A little wistful, maybe. But I’m not even fan of that, so I make my don’t be silly signal. I cup his cock with my free hand, and kiss his still-damp-from-the-shower mouth.

  When I pull away, he looks breathless and happy. But the question he next asks has nothing to do with sex things, and he turns back to the mirror and away from my hand, in order to inspect his new hairdo.

  ‘Did you have a good day at work?’ I don’t think he’s all that impressed with my styling attempts. ‘I was going to come down, but then I heard Jeanette’s voice and I knew that she’d probably seen Andy … so …’

  ‘She had. She grilled me about it.’

  My voice sounds oddly pleased. I won’t go into that too deeply.

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  I shrug.

  ‘Nothing. She made her own assumptions.’

  ‘Can I ask what they were?’

  ‘Of course you can. You can ask me anything. She just assumed that I’d been fucking both of you.’

  ‘She didn’t think Andy was your new boyfriend?’

  ‘No. Why would she?’

  He turns to me then, and fishes his glasses from the edge of the sink, at the same time. Starts putting on his clothes real slow, like he’s waiting for me to say something else. But in truth I’m just not sure what would be best, and so I let him continue into shaky territory.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know. Andy just kind of looks like the sort of boyfriend women like to have, maybe.’

  And I know, I know I should have said to him then that I loved him – far more than anything I even vaguely feel for Andy, and perhaps more than I’ve ever loved any man.

  But I didn’t.

  Chapter Fifteen

  THEY’RE IN THE SHOP’S kitchen, when I get back. Together, just talking, as though I don’t know – they can do that, now, apparently. The atmosphere is tense, but not unpleasant, and when Gabe sees me in the doorway he smiles with all of his teeth.

  I knew I shouldn’t have left him in the shop alone, for Andy to pounce, like a lion on a gazelle. But things needed to be bought and further thoughts about feelings needed to be had, and unfortunately the end result is me, dying to ask what they’ve been talking about.

  ‘Bought yourself anything nice, babe?’ Andy says, as he leans back in his chair. He makes an almost comical contrast with Gabe, who remains all ramrod straight and clasped hands.

  ‘The usual. Magazines, chocolate, fur-lined handcuffs.’

  Gabe looks as though he’s happy about all three. Andy bares his teeth.

  ‘We were just having a chat, about all the things we’d like to do. And we came to some totally awesome agreements.’

  ‘Oh really,’ I say, making sure I don’t let it slide into a question.

  ‘If you want to, though – only if you want to,’ Gabe adds, though his expression tells me I’m going to like whatever it is.

  ‘I think she’ll want to. You want me to fuck you, don’t you, babe?’

  I glance at Gabe, bu
t he’s gone unreadable, again. I get the feeling they’ve talked about more than Andy just fucking me, but hey, if they’ve decided – who am I to say no?

  But I go to Gabe, first, and kiss him long and deep. Soon he’s back in his chair almost as far as Andy is in his, but I use it as an opportunity for something non-sexy, too. I pull away just as he’s starting to relax, and look him in the eye, and ask him if he’s sure.

  He barely hesitates at all, before he answers. And he’s already got his hands on the buttons of my shirt, and his leg between my thighs – what else could I read, but enthusiasm?

  Though said hands do falter, a little, when Andy comes up behind me. Runs his hands all over my back, and demands I tell him I want him. Tell me how much, he says, before I’ve even got anywhere near the answering part – but then, that’s Andy. Just so sure that I long for him and desire him.

  Gabe, on the other hand, watches as Andy snakes his hands around my middle, and starts unbuttoning my shirt. He takes right up where Gabe left off, and soon I’m standing in the kitchen, in just my skirt and bra.

  ‘Upstairs,’ Andy says, and Gabe obeys immediately.

  But I’ve decided I’d like to take my time. I think I’m not far off from exerting a little of my own control, over the pair of them.

  Not that Andy has any idea about such a thing, as he divests me of every item of clothing, and tells me to crawl over Gabe’s sprawled-out-over-the-bed body, and give him a good long kiss.

  Of course I do it, but more because Gabe is already flushed and breathing hard and palming the stiff shape of his cock through his trousers. His hands immediately roam all over my naked body, and he moans into my mouth when I return the favour.

  He feels boiling hot, beneath the neat tuck of his shirt and his tank top.

  ‘You should see the view from here,’ Andy crows, so I spread my legs wider, to let him get a better look.

  Naturally, he takes that as his cue. Before I’ve even managed to wrangle off Gabe’s many layers, Andy’s stark naked behind me, one finger just trailing between my legs. And Gabe knows it, too, because he’s had the same idea. He’s less bold about it then Andy, of course, and he doesn’t simply thrust his fingers into all the juiciest areas first.

  But I feel their hands briefly meet, just the same – one underneath, and one from behind.

  I think that’s more exciting than the actual touching. In fact I know it is, when Andy definitely grabs a hold of Gabe’s hand, and tugs it all the way through my slippery slit.

  Beneath me, Gabe’s eyes flutter closed. He says something that might be oh you’re so wet, you’re always so wet, just before sinking what I think are two of his fingers all the way into my pussy.

  Behind me, Andy says:

  ‘Describe what she feels like.’

  Probably because he’s got some of the same kinks as me, and knows by this point that hearing Gabe dirty talk is the equivalent of a hot wet tongue between your legs. However, he doesn’t say what I expect – not by a long shot.

  ‘She feels beautiful. She’s always beautiful.’

  And Andy goes with something even more jolting.

  ‘Yeah. She feels real nice here, too,’ he says. Before pressing what feels like his thumb, right over my completely exposed arsehole.

  I jerk forward so vigorously that Gabe grabs my hips, as though he’s afraid I’m going to shoot through the headboard, or something. Unfortunately, this just means that I’m caught in position, with Andy’s thumb pressing and worrying right over the place I’ve never had anything other than an accidental finger of my own.

  And my fingers are small.

  Andy’s thumb is not. It presses and presses until I think I’m going to scream from the pressure, and when it moves away it’s almost a relief. Almost. There’s also this sense of shivering absence left behind by it, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I moan, at the feel of something different but the same pressing back there.

  Different because it’s slippery when it returns. The same because it still seems huge and exciting and awful, all at the same time.

  Gabe eyes me, all big and dark and concerned, then whisper-asks me what Andy’s doing. I think he knows, however, because he still has two slowly working fingers in my pussy, and the distance between him and Andy can’t be that great.

  Plus every time Andy pushes his slippery thumb hard against me, I rock forward.

  ‘He’s trying to put something in my arse,’ I say, and I don’t whisper it at all. I like the little conspiratorial thing we’ve got going, and I like being this close to him, but oh, it feels good to say something so dirty out loud.

  And it feels even better, to see Gabe frown and shiver, at the same time. Now it’s his turn, to ask what something is like. To get someone to describe something that makes them feel naughty and wrong.

  ‘Thick,’ I tell him. ‘Too heavy and thick.’

  It’s not the sexiest way to describe something like this, I’m sure, but the hand I slide between our bodies and pass over his still clothed cock – I’m pretty certain that helps the overall effect.

  He makes a little uh sound, then tells me how he wants Andy to do it harder, press harder, fuck my arse. I ask him if that’s what they talked about, but he doesn’t respond. He’s turned his head to one side, into the pillow, and his fingers stir fitfully in my creaming pussy.

  ‘Don’t you want to fuck my arse?’ I ask, though more because I’m surprised he’s expressed such a desire at all, than because it’s odd that he would want Andy to do it, not him.

  But apparently the latter is not the case, because he pants a hot, moist yes into the press of my mouth, just as Andy’s thumb slides suddenly and shockingly into my clenching arsehole.

  It happens just like that – one moment I’m sure it’s never going to fit, the next I’m so full of something it feels like I’m bursting. He’s not going to actually try this with his cock, is he? Because I’m not sure I can take it and I’m definitely sure I can’t take Gabe – though God, is it OK if I’d like to try?

  He’s rutting up against my palm, now, more frantic than I’ve ever seen him, and when Andy slides that digit back and forth – just a little – he whines, high and tight. Words spilling out amongst the sound, like: he’s doing it, isn’t he.

  I tell him yes, and feel his cock kick up against my palm – a heavy, dull jerk. Almost as heavy and dull as the feeling of Andy, fucking my arse with his thumb.

  ‘Has he lubed his finger?’ Gabe asks me, suddenly still amidst all of this fuck-up, so I calm his obviously frazzled nerves. I tell him yes, that it feels slippery and much more sensitive than I would have imagined.

  But that I wish it was him, fucking me there.

  I think he flashes me a smile, for that. Though it gets somewhat lost, beneath his sudden moan – the one he gives because I squeeze, instead of rubbing. It pushes him over into leaving my pussy behind, so that he can get at his belt and his zipper and other things in the way of me stroking his cock.

  ‘I’ll get her ready for you, mate,’ Andy says – a sentiment that makes my clit jump. I imagine them talking in hushed, filthy tones about how they’re going to lube me up and prep me, stretch my arse wide so that Gabe can fuck me there – God.

  However, Andy’s not quite so magnanimous as all that. Oh no no no. No – he’s happy to prep me, but by prep he actually means fuck you first, before your boyfriend gets a turn.

  And he’s not lying, either. His thumb disappears and then all I can hear is him rolling on a condom, louder than a gong, while beneath me Gabe barely dares to touch his own freed cock.

  His eyes are full of wonder and something like shame, and he leans in to tell me that he thinks he’s going to come – so soon and so without anything happening to him at all. Though I feel I should probably point out to him – lying beneath your girlfriend while she strokes you off and someone else prepares to fuck her arse … I’m not sure that qualifies as “without anything happening at all”.

  In fact, it
feels more like something really slippery and solid, easing its way into my yielding arsehole.

  I slap my hands down onto the pillow, either side of Gabe’s head. I’m also pretty sure that I tell Andy to stop, no, I can’t take it. But he just holds my hips and surges forward, while Gabe examines every nuance of expression on my probably sweaty and very red face.

  I can feel his hand, fluttering against my belly. But he still doesn’t touch his leaking, too-hard cock.

  ‘Does that feel good?’ he asks. ‘Is that what you’ve been wanting?’

  But Andy answers for me.

  ‘You bet it is,’ he says, and then shoves into me hard enough to make me lose my balance. I fall to the side of Gabe, face first in the pillow. Of course, on the downslide my belly grazes Gabe’s hard cock, and I’m pretty sure that’s why he makes a sound of protest.

  Though he makes a far, far louder one when Andy says, ‘Your turn, bud.’

  Only, you know. I don’t think he means now you fuck her arse. And I think Gabe knows he doesn’t mean that, because his gaze shoots up to Andy, somewhere over my shoulder, and he looks startled and almost angry.

  But he waits, for Andy to confirm.

  ‘Come on. Fuck her pussy while I fuck her arse.’

  This is definitely not what they discussed. I can see it all over Gabe, and in Andy’s slightly mocking tone, and through my body, which seizes up while my mind floats off to a higher place. Lord, wait until I tell Jeanette this story.

  I feel Gabe’s clammy hands slide over my ribcage, as Andy slows to a gentle rock in and out. Barely anything at all, really. It still makes nerve endings I didn’t know I had shiver and shake, and I can still feel lube trickling down the crack of my arse in an utterly obscene sort of way, but now everything is calm, and not too pressing.

  Though I can hear in Andy’s voice how turned on he is.

  ‘What are you waiting for? Come on, Nancy. She’ll love it.’