The motion of their bodies and the slickness of her pussy meant it took a couple of attempts to press the buzzing toy to the right place and keep it there. But once she did… Wow. She had no idea whether the thing had more settings, more power, but it was already stimulating her clit to perfection, sending her rocketing toward her much-needed climax.
“James,” she gasped, holding tightly onto the bedclothes with her left hand as her right kept the tiny vibe pressed against her tingling bud. “Please…”
Without responding, James moved one hand from her hip and used it to grab her hair. Winding it around his fist, he tugged her head back, exposing her throat. Still fucking her at that maddeningly sedate pace, he moved his lips right next to her ear, and said, “Better hold on tight, gorgeous, if you want more.”
“Yes,” she forced out, prickles of pain dancing across her scalp as he pulled her hair. “Yes, please.”
With that, he straightened and, using her hair and hip for leverage, upped his pace. His lean, powerful hips pistoned faster and faster, his delicious cock filling her over and over, making her scream and screech and yell as bliss rushed through her. The increase in speed and ferocity made it nigh on impossible for her to keep using the bullet on her clit—its shiny surface, now slick with her juices, difficult to hold, and her vulva was so wet and swollen that accuracy just wasn’t happening.
With a growl of frustration, she tossed the still-buzzing toy onto the bedspread and moved to replace it with her hand. James beat her to it. Grabbing her wrist, he shifted her hand away and used his own instead, his long fingers moving confidently between her pouting lower lips and finding her clit.
Fisting the sheets, Fiona held on tightly as James used his cock and fingers in tandem to drive her ever closer to climax. Christ, but she needed it. Every part of her strained toward it, silently begged for it. Even fairly certain that it wouldn’t be her only orgasm of the evening didn’t make her want it any less or increase her patience. She’d been tormented and stimulated for so long that she could barely think of anything else.
Fortunately, it seemed that James was willing to give her what she wanted. Either that, or he was ready, too. Rubbing her clit, he pounded into her hard and fast, panting and grunting. Fiona used the leverage of her hands on the bed to shove herself back against him, urging him deeper, and harder and faster still, her head forced back by the hand still gripping her hair.
In a sudden change of pace, James began jerking shallowly in and out of her, fast and furious. Then, pinching her clit hard, he sent her plummeting over the edge, following immediately afterward.
Torrents of sensation slammed through every fiber of Fiona’s being, and only the increasing soreness of her throat told her she’d been calling out. What she’d said, or screeched, she had no idea, and she didn’t really care. All she cared about was the blissful sensation of orgasm, the amazing buzz that raced through her nerve endings.
James bucked and jerked away behind her, still riding out his own climax, it seemed. Soon, he collapsed over her back with a loud exhalation of her name, his damp skin hot against the exposed areas of hers, and the scent of fresh sweat permeating her nostrils.
“Wow…” was all she could manage, and James chuckled.
“Yeah. My sentiments exactly. You all right?”
She nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
Releasing her hair, he then stroked it, his fingers caressing her scalp. “Good. Just give me a moment and I’ll move.”
“No rush.” She was in no hurry to get rid of him—he felt damn good pressed against her, after all, though it’d feel even better if there wasn’t a layer of tacky PVC in the way.
Suddenly, a movement caught her eye, and she realized that Logan was walking over to the bedside cabinet. What was he…?
The penny dropped when he reached for the antibacterial wipes, pulled one from the packet and wiped his softening shaft and his hands before tucking himself away. Dropping the wipe into the nearby bin, he then grabbed another one. Snagging the bullet vibrator, he then turned it off and cleaned its shiny surface.
Returning the toy to the bed, he discarded the second wipe, then advanced on the two of them. Leaning down, he captured Fiona’s lips in a brief but delicious kiss, leaving her breathless, before repeating the process with James.
“That was fucking hot,” he said to both of them, grinning widely. “So incredibly hot. When you’ve regained the use of your legs, why don’t you both join me in the bathroom?”
It wasn’t a question, not really, but they both nodded, turning their heads to watch him walk away. Pausing in the doorway to discard his clothes, Logan then crossed the threshold, and moments later the sound of running water was audible.
With a contended sigh, James slowly disentangled from Fiona, and discarded the protection. Then, slipping his arm around her waist and tugging her upright, said, “Come on, you. Let’s get cleaned up and chill out for a bit. I think we all need it after that.”
Chill out? Since when was one climax apiece enough? Last time they’d all gotten together, she’d lost count of how many times she’d come.
Her confusion must have registered on her face, because James let out a short laugh. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll still have some more fun and games before the night is out, gorgeous. And if you’re free, we’ve got all day tomorrow, too.”
All day tomorrow… Now that was an offer only a lunatic would refuse.
Allowing him to help her out of the remains of her outfit, then lead her into the bathroom, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see Logan already relaxing in the large Jacuzzi. Offering her a lazy grin, he said, “Get cleaned up, you guys, and hurry. It’s lonely in here by myself.”
The two of them responded by hurrying into the massive shower cubicle with its four waterfall heads and pulling the door closed behind them. James switched on the water, which was hot right away thanks to Logan having just been in there. Handing her one bottle of the Totally Five Star’s complimentary shower gel and taking another for himself, James set about washing himself.
Fiona followed suit—equally eager to settle into the hot tub and ease her aching muscles and stinging backside. Granted, it would have been sexier to wash each other, but it’d have taken a damn sight longer. They’d likely have gotten distracted and forgotten all about the Jacuzzi.
She laughed to herself as she realized the idiocy of that thought. The Jacuzzi alone was tempting enough, but since it contained a naked and gorgeous Logan Chisholm, forgetting about it was completely impossible. Ridiculous. Ludicrous, even.
Rinsing the last of the suds from her hair and body, she nodded to James to turn off the spray, then scampered after him over to the tub.
Logan watched silently, amusement glinting in his eyes as the two of them gingerly lowered themselves into the hot, bubbling water. Once they were seated, Logan reached over the edge of the tub and lifted up a bottle of champagne.
“Bubbles, anyone? Or should I say more bubbles?”
“Yes, please,” Fiona said, hoping she’d hidden her surprise at the label on the bottle. This was no middling brand of bubbly—it was the crème de la crème, and although it was pretty commonplace in the hotel, she’d never thought for one moment that she’d have the opportunity to try it out for herself.
She took the glass Logan handed her with thanks and had the tiniest of sips. She’d been so careful to keep a clear head. She didn’t want to lose it now, not for the sake of some expensive champagne. It was nice, yes, but the experiences she was sharing with these two men were better, and she hoped they weren’t over yet.
Relaxing and letting herself sink a little deeper into the bubbles, she felt contentment and satisfaction seeping through her body. A sexual education, a toe-curlingly amazing shag, followed by some time in a Jacuzzi with a glass of champagne—how awesome was that? If she conveniently ignored everything that had gone before the education part, she’d deem it a perfect evening.
And if this was the way t
hings were going to be, how the hell was she going to cope when the two of them buggered off again?
As she took a thoughtful sip of the champagne, she remembered something. “Uh, guys?”
They both looked at her.
“What the fuck is a switch?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fiona had just settled down at her desk with her first cup of tea of the day when one of the Reception staff appeared in front of her, a huge bunch of flowers in her arms.
“Morning, Lisa,” Fiona said, smiling. She was getting to know Lisa pretty well. They were around the same age, both lived on-site and partook fairly regularly of the Friday night gatherings. “Nice flowers. Who are you looking for?”
Lisa narrowed her eyes and placed the blooms down on Fiona’s desk. “Morning, Fiona. They’re for you, actually.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “But who are they—?” She stopped as the answer presented itself, not wanting to have to explain to Lisa. After all, how exactly could she explain her current situation? “They’re beautiful. Thank you for bringing them.”
Lisa looked as though she was about to start asking questions, but, in an amazing stroke of luck, Fiona’s desk phone rang. “Sorry,” she said, hoping her expression looked more regretful than relieved. “Catch you later?”
Nodding, Lisa gave a little wave and left. Fiona picked up the handset. “Hello?”
“Fiona…” came Sophia’s voice, her tone suspicious. “Who are those divine flowers from?” One of the perks of working in what was essentially a huge glass box meant that Sophia didn’t miss a damn thing.
“I don’t know,” Fiona lied. “I haven’t had a chance to read the card yet.” Well, at least that part was true.
“Hmm… All right. I hope you’re not holding out on me, sweetie. Gotta go, I have a call waiting. Bye.”
“Bye!” Fiona replaced the handset, staring at it incredulously. Christ, it was tough to keep anything secret in a place like this. Honestly, she was amazed that her trysts with James and Logan hadn’t been discovered yet. After they’d found her in the Vauxhall club that night, she’d spent that night, as well as most of the following day, with them. They hadn’t ventured from the room, alternating their time between mind-blowing sex and just chatting, and it was only after considering phoning for room service for a third meal in a row that Logan had called time.
“Okay, enough’s enough. Much as this has been amazing, I need to get out of here for a bit. Plus,” he’d added, a salacious grin on his face, “if I don’t give it a bit of a rest, my cock may well drop off.”
Fiona had known what he meant. She herself had been exhausted and ached, inside and out. A change of scenery would do them all good—and would force them to keep their hands off one another for a little while, at least. “Okay,” she’d said brightly, though she hadn’t really wanted to leave them, “I second that motion. I need to get going, anyway. I need a shower, clean clothes and a proper rest.” She’d mock-glared at the two of them. “I’m heading out with my old flatmates later on, so maybe we can catch up again before you leave?”
At that, the boys had outlined their plans for the following days, and a flurry of typing phone numbers and email addresses into various devices had ensued. Apparently, there was no way the boys were going to risk losing touch with her again. By the time that particular stay at the hotel had ended, Fiona had spent more time in their suite than her own room.
Smiling at the memory, she glanced over her shoulder to see if Sophia was looking. She wasn’t—whoever was on the phone obviously needed her undivided attention—so Fiona quickly searched among the flowers for the card. All her other colleagues were either out on errands or engrossed in their various tasks, so once she found the tiny envelope, she opened it and read the message inside.
Gorgeous Fiona,
Just a little gift to make you smile. And your smile is way more beautiful than these flowers.
JL xx
She frowned when she got to the signature line. JL? What was L? Neither of their surnames began with L.
After a moment, she got it. Not JL, but J and L. But, appreciative of her need for subtlety and discretion, they’d signed it to look as though the flowers were from just one person. And, reading back through the message, she realized it had been worded in such a way that the words ‘I’ or ‘we’ weren’t needed.
Smart and considerate. She was a lucky girl indeed. It had only been a day since they’d checked out, promising to let her know in advance when they next had business in town, and already they were sending lovely reminders to make sure she didn’t forget them.
As if. Smiling, she put the card back in its envelope and tucked it safely into her purse. Then, figuring she could come up with some fabricated sender of the flowers for the next person that asked, she continued supping at her tea as she began reading her emails.
It wasn’t until much later that she got the opportunity to express her gratitude for the flowers. She’d had a busy morning with admin, followed by a post-lunch internal meeting to discuss an upcoming event the hotel was hosting—some huge international conference to do with climate change and global warming. Publicity support was minimal, given that it was more of a meeting of world leaders, diplomats and various important folk, so they only needed to boost the profile of the event itself, rather than trying to encourage attendance.
Given its importance, Sophia had said she’d handle the publicity, freeing Fiona up to start brainstorming their next big campaign. So, immediately after the meeting, she stuffed her tablet and a notebook and pen into her handbag and scurried off to her favorite place in the hotel—the library. Well, her favorite place after whatever suite James and Logan happened to be staying in when they were around, anyway.
Her love affair with the cavernous room had begun as soon as she’d first laid eyes on it—way back when Sophia had shown her around on the day of her interview. It was a stunning room, clad in a classic style. The only nods to modern life were the free Wi-Fi access and the row of computers at one end of the space. Replica antique tables and chairs were dotted around, as were coffee tables situated next to sofas and armchairs. It was wonderful—comfortable, relaxing and functional, all at once. And the best part was that, even though it was more akin to a private library than a public one, the guests seemed to keep to the unwritten rule about being quiet.
This made it the perfect place for her to go and work on occasion. Although she loved the hustle and bustle of the office, the chatter, the bouncing ideas off one another, occasionally silence and solitude were the order of the day. And right now, it was exactly what she needed.
She was pleased to see that her favorite spot was available and snagged it quickly. It was at the far end of the room, hidden from the door by several rows of shelving, and had plenty of natural light, thanks to the huge skylight overhead. It meant that she had to turn the brightness on the tablet up to its maximum to be able to see the screen, but that was a small price to pay to work in such magnificent surroundings. It was a place of learning, of education, of expanding one’s mind, and that, in addition to the unequaled scent of books, both old and new, seemed to get Fiona’s synapses firing like nowhere and nothing else, except maybe sex.
Settling into the comfortable old leather armchair, she resisted the temptation to kick off her shoes and tuck her feet up beneath her. She was still on duty, after all. Just because she’d earned the perk of being able to disappear off and work wherever she liked on occasion didn’t mean she should take advantage or let her professional manner slip. There were guests in and out of here all the time. It wasn’t exactly the most popular destination on the premises—which was another reason she liked it so much—but it was visited.
Popping her handbag onto the table, she retrieved her mobile phone first and typed out a message to Logan. He seemed to check his phone more often than James, and they were pretty much joined at the hip, anyway, so she knew James would see the message soon after Logan.
Hope y
ou’re both okay. Sorry I’ve not texted before now. Things manic here today! Just managed to escape to the library for a bit for some brainstorming. Anyway, just wanted to let you know I received the flowers and they’re beautiful. Thank you so much, F xxx P.S. Talk later.
Hitting the ‘Send’ button, she then switched the device onto silent mode, returned it to her bag and grabbed her tablet. It had automatically logged itself onto the library’s Wi-Fi network—God bless technology—and was ready to go.
Opening the web browser, she cringed to herself as she started typing in the phrase. It was way too early to be thinking about Christmas, but she had no choice. It was the nature of her job—yes, some publicity could be gained on the spot in response to things that had happened, but for those things that rolled around each and every year, campaigns had to be brainstormed, planned and executed, the wheels set into motion many months in advance of the actual event. And, in the hospitality trade, Christmas was a biggie. The biggest, really.
Gritting her teeth and hitting ‘Search’ in the browser, Fiona flipped to the image results and focused on what came up, waiting for a kernel of inspiration to take root. Most of the time, she had absolutely no idea where her ideas came from, but, thankfully, they always seemed to come. Even if they weren’t quite what she’d been looking for, they were a good enough jumping off point, and the creative side of her brain raced away with itself, providing phrases, imagery, plots and plans so quickly that she could hardly keep up. But she couldn’t complain. It was better to have too many ideas than not enough.
Sophia still seemed pleased with her work too, which, far from making Fiona complacent, instead spurred her on to work harder and smarter, to keep impressing her boss and hopefully inspire more talk of courses and promotions. She’d well and truly settled in at the Totally Five Star, and she adored it. In her eyes, the only way was up.
Smiling to herself, Fiona wished the people that had thought a creative writing degree was a waste of time could see her now. Granted, some of it had been down to pure luck and the early rapport she’d established with Sophia, but if she hadn’t been up to the task, she wouldn’t have passed her probationary period.
Eyes Wide Open Page 14