by Zara Chase
“What do you think happened to Sonia?”
Peyton shot him a look. “You really need me to answer that?”
“No, I guess not.” Clyde grimaced. “How are we gonna tell her?”
“We’re not. Not unless we get cast-iron proof. Better she’s left wondering rather than hearing the truth. After what happened to her parents, she’s pretty fragile, even though she doesn’t realize it. I don’t think she can handle much more right now. Our mission is to make her feel better about herself.”
Clyde popped the cap off one beer and threw another to Peyton. He caught it one-handed. “I hear you.”
* * * *
Toward the end of the following afternoon, Clyde strolled up to the tennis courts, clutching his racket. He’d made it his business to find out Fabia’s schedule. She had five minutes left of a lesson she was giving to a young married couple here on holiday. Then she’d be free.
She didn’t appear to notice him watching her from the side of the court, so he was free to appreciate the view. She wore a short red tennis dress with thin shoulder straps, and her hair was once again pulled into a tight braid. That must make it easier for tennis, but he preferred it the way it was when he saw her last night—wet from the hot tub and tumbling all over the place—as out of control as she’d obviously been. Her legs were very long and very brown. The guy she was coaching appeared to appreciate them, but his pretty wife didn’t seem to share that view.
When the lesson ended, she glanced his way and frowned. She’d seen him but didn’t acknowledge his presence, chatting with her clients instead. He waited until she was free and then strolled up to her.
“Afternoon, Fabia.”
“Hello, Clyde.” Her acerbic tone surprised him. Whatever had upset her, it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t even been there.
“I fancied a knock up,” he said casually. “Got time?”
“You play tennis?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been known to disgrace the court on occasion.”
“Well, I’m not sure that I can—”
“I’ll pay for an hour’s coaching.”
She shot him a look, her lovely body rigid with tension that had nothing to do with him disrupting her schedule.
“Do you need coaching?” she asked suspiciously.
He sauntered onto the court. “You tell me.”
Still unable to understand the change in her, Clyde watched as she gathered up a few balls, stood on the opposite baseline, and hit one at him. Hard. He blocked it back with ease, which clearly surprised her. Her next shot came at his backhand.
Nice try, darlin’, but the backhand’s my preferred wing.
In one fluid motion, he returned the shot single-handed. She clearly assumed it wouldn’t come back and had to scurry to reach it. Their initial rally lasted for twenty shots.
“You’ve played before,” she said, almost accusingly when his winning backhand volley passed her.
“I did say I had.”
“Where?”
“All over the place. I played a bit at school and seemed to have a knack for it, so I pick up a racket whenever I have the time.”
“You do have a knack.” She glowered at him. “And you don’t need any help from me. Save your money.”
“Don’t you wanna get all that endless coaching out of your system and have a decent game for a change?”
She hesitated. “I don’t think I should—”
“Sure you should.” Clyde flashed his sexiest smile. “Let’s make it interesting.”
Fabia frowned. “What do you have in mind?”
“A wager.”
“I can’t afford to lose.”
“Who said anything about money?” He had her complete attention now. “I suggest that we play straightforward singles, but to make it fair, I only get one serve.”
She nodded, suspicion reflected in her eyes. “Go on.”
“We play one set, and whoever wins gets to decide on their prize.”
“What if I don’t like what you decide on?”
He cocked his head to one side and grinned. “You that sure I’m gonna win?”
“I’m sure you won’t, but there’s nothing I want from you, so why would I put myself in that position?”
“Because you can’t resist a challenge.” His grin widened. “Besides, I can guarantee that you’ll enjoy what I have in mind for you if I do happen to scrape a win.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, mulling over his invitation. He could see that a lot of the antagonism had drained out of her and that he’d roused her competitive spirit.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an arrogant so-and-so?” she asked sweetly.
Clyde looked at her, desperate to find out what had so upset her but even more desperate to win this damned game and claim his prize. There was just something about her—a tough resourcefulness tempered by compelling vulnerability that got his complete attention. Peyton had said the same thing about her. He’d also said that she’d been in complete abandon when he fucked her. All that uptight British reserve flew out the window and the sensual siren in her took over. Clyde couldn’t wait to sample that side of her for himself.
“Once or twice,” he said, answering her question with a casual wave of his hand, “but, hey, I deliver on my promises, and so it ain’t being arrogant.”
“Oh, come on, then!”
They knocked a few balls between them, practised their serves, and were ready to play. Fabia served first. She had a decent spin service and varied its position well. She won her service game on merit.
“By the way,” Clyde said as they changed ends. “I ought to have made it clear that I can say anything I like to you during the game. Same goes for you.”
“Fine. What did you want to say?”
He stood very close to her as they towelled down but didn’t actually touch her. “Did you know,” he began in a seductive purr, “that when you lean into the ball to serve, I get a good view of your cleavage? Not that I’m complaining, mind, but it does give you a bit of an advantage, ’cos it’s damned hard for me to concentrate.”
For the first time, she flashed a genuine smile. “Whatever it takes to win.”
Laughing, Clyde tapped her butt with his racket as they left the net. He won his service game easily, and it was her turn again.
“You excited about something?” he asked as they both went to the net to pick up balls.
“What do you mean?”
He indicated her tits with his eyes. “Your nipples look kinda hard.”
“Shut up!”
Clyde chuckled. “Just sayin’!”
“Well don’t. It’s cheating.”
“The only rules are that there are no rules.” He picked up a ball and tossed it to her. “Did you like what Peyton did to your tits last night?” She turned away so sharply that her braid slapped against her shoulder. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, Fabia.” He spoke so authoritatively that she immediately turned back to face him and lowered her eyes. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” she said grudgingly. “I liked it a lot.”
“I’ll just bet you did!”
They resumed their game. Clyde managed to break her serve, and the score was now three games to two in his favour.
“Bad luck,” he said as they changed ends.
“Luck had nothing to do with it. You distracted me on purpose.”
“You can do the same to me. Why don’t you try it?”
“I just might,” she said with a sultry smile.
“Aw, shit, why did I put that idea into your head? I reckon I’m in trouble now.”
“Count on it.”
The next game was fiercely competitive. Fabia obviously didn’t take well to losing. She hit the ball hard and placed it accurately, already seeming to realize that his backhand was his strength. He amused himself by putting in the occasional drop shot. She ran full pelt to get them, leaning forward and giving him a good view of the goods on offer.
“Stop it,” she panted. She had just run the length of the court but missed her shot, presumably because she had seen his gaze fastened on her tits.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently. “All’s fair in love and…er, love, babe.”
They’d gathered a small audience who were following the contest with interest. That annoyed Clyde. He wanted her to himself.
“You’re looking mighty hot,” he said after a sharp exchange of volleys at the net, which she eventually won. “Is that perspiration on the back of your dress or is your pussy leaking?”
“Why would my pussy leak?” she asked innocently. “I don’t see anything around here exciting enough to make that happen.”
“Ouch, that hurt!”
She offered him a sunny smile. “You started this game.”
“Yeah, and I intend to win it, sweetheart. Get ready for me.” He dropped his voice several octaves. “You ever been fucked by a Scotsman before?”
“Can’t say as I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Oh, it will be a pleasure. That I can promise you.”
“You haven’t won the match yet.”
“Ah, but I have incentive to try extra hard.”
Damn it, she broke right back again and then held serve. Clyde was really trying now, but so was she. Was that because she didn’t want to get laid?
“Does it hurt?” she asked as they changed ends.
“What, my bruised ego?” he asked, thinking of the thumping cross-court forehand she’d hit to win the game.
“No, that.” She nodded to his hard-on and ran her tongue along her lower lip. “Must be difficult to run around with one of those getting in the way.”
“You have no idea!”
“Well, if you want to do something with it then you’d better up your game.” She took a swig of water and sauntered to the other end. “Oh, and don’t forget that the rules preclude any part of your body crossing the line before you serve.” She glanced down again. “Seems to me you might need to stand back an inch or two.”
“Only an inch or two!” Damned witch!
“Your serve,” she said sweetly over her shoulder.
Clyde did his best to blot out the sight of her sweat-soaked body and concentrate on his game. No way did he intend to lose. It was a bitter battle made harder—literally—by his near-permanent state of arousal. That was her fault, and he’d make her pay for being such a little cock tease later.
It took three-quarters of an hour, but he eventually beat her seven-five. They shook hands at the net. Hers was trembling but whether from anticipation or as a result of their hard game he couldn’t have said.
“Thanks,” she said. “I think.”
“My pleasure.” He winked at her. “Yours too, pretty soon.”
* * * *
Fabia headed for the female shower room attached to the tennis centre and opened her locker, extracting clean clothing and shampoo. She peeled offer her sweat-drenched tennis gear and gratefully stepped under the shower, wondering what the hell she’d just committed herself to.
She was still in a state of denial, having found Sonia’s phone in the guys’ loft. The battery was dead, so Fabia would have to go to their parents’ home to see if she could find the charger. If she could figure out how to use all the apps, there might be something on there to help her.
She had, at least, learned one vital thing. Sonia had been in that loft. She might even have shared the hot tub with the guys. Jealousy rippled through Fabia, which infuriated her. She absolutely didn’t care what they did, and she certainly wasn’t jealous of her sister, no matter what messages her body might put out to the contrary.
Help me out here, Sonia. Where are you, babe? What’s going on? I so don’t want to have to ask those two.
She hadn’t known what to make of Clyde’s appearance at the tennis centre, nor of his ability to play the game so well. He might have mentioned it earlier. Is that how Sonia got to know him? Fabia had been about to refuse to play, not wanting anything more to do with either of them. Then she relented. She wouldn’t have any peace until she got the truth out of them. She needed to know why Sonia had been in their loft and why they’d flat-out denied knowing her.
Fabia shampooed her hair, digging her fingers into her scalp and rubbing vigorously. Still only halfway through, she sensed a presence behind her. Her heart bashed against her rib cage as anticipation streaked through her. There was absolutely no need to look over her shoulder to see who’d joined her.
She looked anyway.
Stark naked, Clyde was as impressively built as Peyton. She’d never seen red pubic hair on a man before, and the sight fascinated her. So did his erection, damn it. He held it close to its base and fisted it, a challenging smile playing about his lips as it gradually expanded. His cock was, if anything, longer than Peyton’s but not quite as wide. Either way, she wasn’t complaining, even if this did rather complicate things.
She felt let down by them both but knew she wouldn’t turn Clyde away. She needed what he was offering her, and judging by his disgustingly self-assured smile, he appeared to know it. She would compartmentalise. Yes, that’s what she’d do. She would treat this as a casual encounter that had nothing to do with Sonia. That way it wouldn’t seem like she was betraying her.
“How did you get in here?” Fabia inwardly groaned as soon as the inane question passed her lips.
“Couldn’t wait,” he said, holding his penis a little tighter. “As you can see.”
“Someone might come in.”
“I locked the door.”
“Do you always take whatever you want and damn the consequences?”
“No, darling, I never take, I offer. Tell me no and I’m out of here.”
“Well.” Her gaze lingered on his erection. It sprang from that curly red hair, so angry and stiff that it almost reached his belly button. She ran her tongue along her lower lip, pretending to consider her options. “I suppose it would be a shame to waste that.”
“A crying shame,” he said, grinning as he joined her beneath the hot jets of water.
He stood behind her and finished rubbing the shampoo into her hair. She remained stock-still and let him do it, knowing she’d done the right thing when her nipples tightened almost painfully, her gut roiled in anticipation, and her cunt felt as though it was on fire. His hands left her head, and suds cascaded over them both as the water washed the shampoo away. Capable hands drifted lower, covering her tits and tweaking the nipples as he nibbled at her shoulder from behind.
“You’re good enough to eat,” he muttered.
Fabia had momentary doubts as thoughts of Sonia crept past her guard. But not for long. The heady sensation of having her nipples massaged and then tugged through the fingers and teeth of a man who knew precisely how to do it right soon chased all uncertainties from her mind. If she regretted this later, she’d just have to get over it. She simply couldn’t stop now. Desire tumbled through her, pooling in the pit of her stomach, and there was absolutely no way she could maintain her brief attitude of indifference.
“So eat me.”
He chuckled and nipped at her earlobe. “Oh, I intend to.”
His prick pushed against her anus. She wondered if that’s how he wanted to fuck her. Fabia adored taking it up the ass and wouldn’t object if he did. She was powerless to say no to anything he wanted to do to her, simply because she wanted him to do it, she didn’t much care how. Same went for Peyton. The bugger of it was, mad though she ought to be with them both for holding out on her, she couldn’t seem to get enough of them.
When had she turned into a sex maniac? She’d gone six months without and hadn’t missed it. Now, the moment either of them was anywhere near her, she didn’t seem able to think about anything else. It was just plain ridiculous. She hadn’t even had Clyde yet. He might be a selfish, inept lover. Somehow she doubted that, but it was possible. Even so, she felt safe with them both. Safe and emotionally involved, which was even crazier than wanti
ng them to fuck her. They’d lied to her, for goodness’s sake!
“You feel that, babe?”
She sighed and leaned against him so that his erection nudged against her butt even harder. “Yes.”
“You like it?”
“Damn it, you know I do.” She turned to face him, aware that her anguish and desperation were probably reflected in her expression. “Don’t make me wait, Clyde. I need to do this.”
His smile was positively lethal. Even white teeth flashed, as did the glint of anticipation in his green eyes. “Darling, your every wish is my command.”
But he didn’t immediately do anything. Instead, he dropped his head and kissed her with enough passion to make her head spin and her cunt to throb with even greater need. His hands were now on her ass, pulling her against his erection, rubbing it against her clit until a moan slipped past her lips, even though he was kissing her like crazy.
“Peyton said you were a greedy little witch.”
“I need to be fucked,” she whispered, no longer caring how desperate she sounded.
“Oh, you will be. Tell me what you like.”
“I like it hard and rough,” she said breathlessly. “The harder and rougher the better. Don’t treat me like I might break.”
Clyde grinned. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Hard and rough is what I do best.”
“You talk a good game,” she said, anguish in her tone.
“Naughty!” He tapped her butt. “I deliver, too. Never doubt it. Lean over with your ass toward me.”
She did as he asked, hoping he’d spank her. He didn’t disappoint. Nor did he treat her gently.
“I just love that cute butt,” he said, bringing his hand down harder each time he struck her. “But I guess that can wait. I’ll settle for that sweet snatch of yours instead. Is that what you want, Fabia? Do you want me to fuck your cunt?”
“Yes. Please, Clyde.” The anguish in her voice had gone up several notches. Her pride, on the other hand, appeared to be taking a vacation, and she was reduced to begging him for what she needed. “Just do it now.”
“Okay. Stand up. Lean against the wall.”