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Crosstown Crush

Page 20

by Cara McKenna


  “And what about me?” Bern asked, crawling close, looming large, erection brushing her mound as he straddled her thighs. “You happy to give me a little something?”

  “Anything.”

  He smiled right back, the gesture one thousand watts of sultry Southern charm. “Spread those pretty legs, then.”

  She bit her lip. “Yes, sir.”

  Bern shifted his knees and she did as she was told, all but seared by his gaze as he took her in. “You ready for me?”

  “Always.”

  Bern craned his neck to address Mike. “Don’t stop rolling, now.”

  Mike’s only response was to part his lips, but Sam could read him like a book – that was arousal glazing his eyes, and darkening his cheeks and throat and ears. He’d come, he’d stepped beyond his comfort zone, and he was still in it. Still turned on. The three of them were up to their necks in the game now, and in it deeper than Sam had ever expected they’d go.

  Yet here they were. Every one of them ready to see what came next.

  “Take me,” she told Bern, tugging on those thrilling arms.

  “Ooh, I like when you give the orders.”

  Do you, then? A tempting notion. “Get inside me. Show him what I need.”

  Another hot smile. “Well, yes, ma’am.” He steadied his cock and took her deeply in a single thrust.

  “God yeah.” She gripped his hair, not faking an ounce of the desire burning inside her. “Lemme see you lose it.”

  “What’s the rush?” He took her slow and deep, and for the first time, Sam was eager to watch that video. That ass, those hips, the muscles edging his ribs… all that in profile, working for her. Her own fantasies were coming into focus tonight, in so many ways. She’d always imagined that if she had a kinky side, she’d know it. But it had taken seeing Mike on his knees, live and in person, to set her on fire. She never could have guessed her reaction. Just as she never could have guessed the way indulging in another man’s body could deepen her feelings for her husband. She’d worried if anything, it would have dampened it. But no. Since their guest had arrived, sex had gone from a warming hearth to a blazing wildfire. A thought burst through the haze, one that slapped her in its clarity.

  Don’t ever leave us.

  Fuck, that was some dangerous thinking. That was attachment talking. She chalked it up to the intensity of the emotions in the room, and fell back into the moment.

  “I like it fast,” she said, holding those slow-pumping hips. “You know that.”

  “He not rough enough for you?” Bern asked, glancing at Mike.

  “Not like you can do it. Show him.”

  And he gave her what she’d asked for, driving quick and hard. “Get on your hands and knees.”

  She did as she was told.

  “Good.”

  But after a minute, Bern’s punishing body stilled, then stopped. He spoke to Mike, three little words shifting the room’s entire atmosphere. “Come over here.”

  Sam searched her husband’s face for trepidation, but it was impossible to locate behind the humiliation act. In any case, he was obedient. Suddenly the weight of three people dipped the mattress.

  “Can you find a fucking clit?” Bern demanded, every inch the brash, wife-defiling shithead he was here to play.

  Mike didn’t speak, but he knelt and edged close to Sam’s side, one hand on her back not far from Bern’s, the other sliding under her belly, familiar fingertips alighting on her clitoris. Sam shivered and moaned, shocked.

  The pleasure was insane. It went far beyond a hard, skilled cock and a set of fingers that knew her as well as her own did. There were the smells and heat of two men, the disparate pitch of their breathing, mismatched moans at her side and back. But the psychological high was as potent as any physical aspect of what was happening. She’d never felt so much at once. Like an object of adoration and worship, like a prize desired by two hard, panting male animals.

  Could Mike feel Bern? He was taking her so deeply, did Mike get the glance of Bern’s balls against his knuckles with every impact?

  “She loves that dick,” Bern muttered, and Sam tensed right up to the edge of orgasm at those words. Not from the crassness of them, or his tone, but because something about it… He was talking to Mike, not her. There was a sharp dichotomy at play, a them and her. She was being pleasured by two men. Served and used at once.

  “Fuck,” she groaned. “Don’t stop.”

  “Not till I feel you come, baby.” Bern, of course. Mike’s voice was no more than a low hum of a moan. Together, Bern’s words and Mike’s sounds – they were something entirely different. So much more, as though one plus one made a hundred.

  The pleasure built with every pounding thrust from Bern, every incendiary stroke of Mike’s fingertips. From the sensations and so much more. In a flash she imagined the wake of this encounter, of rolling over and kissing each of these men in turn. She was drunk on the moment, on the boundaries they’d obliterated. She’d never known sex could be like this. It couldn’t be like this one-on-one, no matter the lovers or the bond they shared.

  Dangerous thoughts.

  It was only the orgasm that drowned them out, her worries flattened in the face of the pleasure as two men, two voices, four hands became her entire world.

  “God yeah. Baby, don’t stop.” She spoke to the both of them, and it was the both of them she moaned for when the climax hit. The moment she came down, Bern took over.

  “Get that camera,” he told Mike. “Bring it close.” To Sam, “Turn over, honey.”

  They both obeyed, and when Sam flipped onto her back she could see Mike’s hands shaking around the camcorder. But he did as instructed, aiming the lens right at the action as Bern took her. It was quick, rough, even frantic, and he was there inside a minute.

  “Here I come. Here I come, Sam.”

  His hips froze, pressed hard to her backside as he released. She heard and felt him go slack, heard him gulping deep breaths. Warm hands caressed her thighs and hips for a few moments, then he slipped his softening cock from inside her. She could feel his come on her lips, and her thoughts and curiosities changed immediately. She knew what she wanted – the same as what Mike wanted, in theory. Tonight, nothing excited her more than these two men, together, in every way possible.

  She collapsed against the pillows, her exhaustion all real, no act. Bern was sitting farther along the mattress, leaning back on his palms and catching his breath. Sam looked to Mike, finding his expression stony… though she thought there might be a glimmer of excitement or curiosity there. She propped a leg up and let her hand drift to her tender, swollen folds as she mentally edited out the rim of the condom. Mike’s eyes widened as two fingers stroked her lips, surely glistening with what his rival had put there. She laid out the bait and left it up to Mike to take it or not. She thought she knew their guest well enough now to feel comfortable inviting Mike’s pleasure to begin, even after Bern had come. And if he wasn’t, she trusted him to make a graceful exit, play the part of the selfish, sated man and dismiss himself if things took a turn he didn’t care to witness.

  She could sense all these same questions and hypotheses flying around in Mike’s head as well. His eyes darted, but they kept flitting to where her fingers flaunted his enemy’s seed.

  Take me back. Take back what’s yours.

  Just as she began to think it wasn’t to be, a final nudge was given. By Bern.

  “Your wife’s gonna feel me dripping from her cunt for hours,” he said, voice steady once more. He looked to Sam with a mean smile. “Bet you’ll like that, won’t you?”

  “Anything to remind me how good you fuck.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Ooh, you’re good.

  Then suddenly Bern was on his feet, gathering his clothes. The relief hit her like a cool breeze, a gasp of fresh air she’d not realized she needed. He’d set them up, taken them further than she’d even expected, but he was letting the two of them finish the story.
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  “I’ll see myself out. Call me next time you need a decent fuck,” he told Sam, buckling his belt.

  “Way more than decent. And drive safe.”

  He came over and they shared a quick kiss on the mouth, Sam’s fingertips skimming down his arm as he pulled away. He left them for good without so much as a glance at Mike.

  When she heard the front door click shut downstairs, she let her fingers continue their display. Mike crossed to the bed and sat beside her.

  “It’s still warm,” she said through a sigh. “What he left inside me.”

  “You’re my wife. I don’t want another man’s come where mine belongs.”

  “Too bad for you, then. Unless you want to do something about it…?”

  A glint of determination shone in his eyes. Sam held her breath as he moved, parting her legs and getting to his elbows and knees between them. Her arousal blazed back into brilliant life, and faking apathy became more challenging.

  “Can you see what he’s done?” she taunted, slicking more evidence of Bern’s trespass along her folds. “I’ve been dying to taste him. Maybe you could do the job for me.”

  Mike smelled her first, a deep, heady sampling of the scent of her and Bern’s sex. As he brought his mouth closer she felt the warmth of his exhalations on her clit. She raked her nails through his hair, wondering if it triggered any memory of Bern similarly touching him. She did it again, softer and more affectionate.

  “Go ahead. Tell me how good he tastes.”

  Mike’s tongue glanced her pussy and she had to fight to cover up the fresh waves of pleasure that spread through her, to keep up her role as bored wife. This was all too amazing and fucked and perfect to be her sex life.

  Finally, he managed a firm lap. They’d acted out this moment dozens of times, but it had to be different. Doing this had to put another wrinkle in Mike’s definition of his sexuality. Same as that hot, loaded moment when he’d taken Bern in his mouth. But once the line had been crossed, she could sense the change in him. He’d jumped. It was done. Now he was free.

  He caressed her with deep licks, the contact feeling so like Bern’s style, that languorous savoring. She held his head as he did the deed, her insides curling into a tight, hot ball of excitement. When he finally seemed to be satisfied that all traces of the other man were gone, he edged up her body and claimed her mouth.

  She could taste Bern there as well as herself.

  At her waist, Mike was fumbling with his pants.

  “Take it out,” he murmured, and Sam stripped the condom.

  Mike got himself free and sank inside her, the zipper of his jeans scraping the soft skin of her inner thigh. She didn’t think he’d ever felt this hard – and he’d come barely twenty minutes earlier. The humiliation was done for the night, the reassertion process begun.

  She murmured his name.

  “You came for real tonight?” he asked. “Both times?”

  “I did.” And she might again, if he gave her the chance. But as it was, his pace was frantic. His body slapped hers, graceless and aggressive, needy. She had to wonder, was he reclaiming more than his primacy? His manhood, perhaps, in the wake of what he’d done? Whatever the reason, it was as hot as any camera-worthy performance Bern could offer.

  Camera. She looked to the side, finding it back on the tripod, red light still blinking. As Mike’s eyes shut, as they always did when he was racing to the finish, she turned to stare that lens down and smiled. An evil little look to tell the viewer, I know exactly how good I’ve got it.

  Though how and when it might come to an end, she couldn’t begin to guess.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  H

  ow did you feel about it?

  That was the question Sam was dying to ask both men, in regard to Saturday night. Asking Mike first seemed only right, though finding the chance was tricky. He was woken up by a new and demanding case at five the next morning, one that kept him out late for the next three nights and had him too burned out for intense conversations about their sex games once he was home. It also left Sam on her own, with too many memories and not enough feedback to know where everyone stood. She could only vouch for her own feelings, but at least they were loud and clear and utterly unconflicted.

  I want to see that again.

  Mike and Bern, touching. She wanted to watch the video, badly, but it felt like the first viewing ought to be for her and Mike, together. So she settled for the film in her head – rewatching again and again, and imagining the two men taking things further than they had, replacing Mike’s uncertain receptivity with something hungrier, and replacing Bern’s brash contempt with a taste of awe. Reversing the roles, making Bern the shameless instigator, on his knees, Mike ever the overcome and uncertain one, surrendering to the act and ultimately loving it. The aggression of the actual night she kept, but doubled the lust. She hadn’t gotten so lost in fantasies since she’d been a teenager, though she also knew the high would deflate if she found out Mike regretted that act that had left her so hot.

  A hundred times she toyed with e-mailing Bern, asking him what he felt about it. They hadn’t talked or texted since the big night, and she couldn’t say why. Because they’d gone too far for his comfort? Because he was waiting to hear from her first, and was worried about the same thing – that it had been too far for them? She had her own answer for him – hell no, that wasn’t too far – but not Mike’s. And so the silence lengthened, gathering like a dark cloud to dampen her burning mood.

  It wasn’t until Wednesday evening that she got a chance to sit down with Mike for some unwinding time. After a long shower, he sank with a sigh onto the couch, head dropping back in relief and exhaustion.

  “Well done, Detective Heyer.” She handed him a beer and turned the oven down to warm. Dinner would keep while she got some answers. She poured herself a glass of wine and joined him, curling her legs up and resting them on his thigh. “It’s so good to have you home at a decent hour.”

  “Fucking amazing to be home. Jesus, that was a gnarly bust.”

  “Need to talk about it?”

  “Christ no. Let’s talk about anything but that. How’s your week been?”

  “Work’s quieted down, which is good. Haven’t done much in the evenings, though. Mostly just been coming home and being a lump, but it’s been nice… I’ve had a lot on my mind. Since Saturday.”

  Mike’s gaze cooled, expression difficult to read. “Oh?”

  “I, um, haven’t been talking with him – texting, I mean. I didn’t want to keep things all ramped up until you and I talked. About how you feel about everything that happened.”

  Mike smiled, and that simple gesture brought Sam’s breath back in a quenching rush.

  “Was my coming twice not enough of an endorsement?” he teased. “Or do you mean because of… you know. What I did. To him.”

  She nodded. “Just tell me you’re not traumatized.”

  He shrugged. “It was out of my comfort zone, but that’s kind of par for the course with the entire arrangement, right?”

  “True. Did it… did it turn you on at all, or the opposite?”

  “Neither. It was just… I don’t know what the right word is. Like, scary, but without any trauma, I guess. I dunno. Same as when I’ve tasted what he… You know what I’m saying.”

  “But it’s not your thing.”

  Mike laughed softly. “Sami, this entire adventure we’ve been on is my thing. And that stuff’s all part of it. I don’t know how to describe it, since you don’t have this weird desire that I do. There’s stuff I like to feel that doesn’t automatically connect to my dick. The fear I feel when I imagine you cheating on me, and the discomfort from when he and I overlap, physically… Those things don’t feel good, except they do. They hurt, but then it’s like it ferments into something hot. Am I making any sense?”

  “Yeah, you are.” And she realized with pleasure that she’d never heard him explain his kink so articulately before, or perhaps with such ow
nership or awareness.

  “The bad feelings feed the good ones,” he said. “It’s like a punch in the stomach, but chased by more than an absence of pain. By more excitement than anything else gets me feeling.”

  She licked her lip, nervous to share her own turn-ons. A silly hesitation, considering the taboos he’d owned up to. Then again, it had taken him a few years to open up about those, and he’d been scared when he first began to share, to say the least.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “When you guys were both with me, at the end…” She laughed. “Holy crap, that was hot.”

  He squeezed her upper arm, smiling. “Good. For me, too.”

 

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