Three of a Kind

by Jess Dee

  Trev might have made a halfhearted attempt to keep the kiss chaste if she hadn’t parted her lips and flicked her tongue over his lips, unleashing weeks of repressed desire. He opened his mouth and his tongue met hers in wild celebration.

  Goddamn!

  She tasted every bit as sweet as he’d imagined.

  He licked into her mouth, exploring the warm, wet cavern. He stroked her tongue with his, nipped at her lower lip, sucked on her upper one, and she met his intensity move for move.

  His arms tightened around her. When last had he pushed his erection up against the gentle swell of a woman’s belly, or cupped pliable butt cheeks in his hands?

  Grace rocked against his groin, rubbing her pussy against his impossibly hard cock. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her braless nipples poking at him through the silk of her pajamas and the cotton of his T-shirt.

  Trev was so aroused, beads of precome trickled from his dick. He had to touch her naked flesh, feel the tight buds that tipped the generous swell of breast. Edging his hands under her shirt, he ran his palms over her hips. He couldn’t stop there. He traced her curves, relishing the way her hips flared out gently before nipping in at the waist and flaring out again at the start of her ribs.

  She was so very different from Max. His complete opposite in every way. Max was solid muscle and hard lines, Grace all soft curves. Max smelled of expensive cologne, Grace like earthy vanilla. Max’s hair was short and thick, Grace’s long and silken. Max’s chest was flat and lightly covered in hair, Grace’s was smooth and blessed with a perfect set of breasts.

  One so different from the other, yet Trev’s feelings for both of them seemed so similar. It shouldn’t be possible. He and Max had been lovers for two years, while he was only just getting to know Grace. Experiencing this overwhelming attraction to both of them didn’t make sense.

  But then when had anything ever made sense in Trev’s love life?

  “God, Grace…” Her breasts now rested in his palms, each one a perfect handful. The globes were round and firm. Flawless, feminine beauty. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples, gratified by the shiver that raced through her body in response.

  It took him seconds to divest her of her top, and then he leaned in and pulled one distended nipple into his mouth.

  “Trev!” Grace dropped her head back and let out a long, contented sigh.

  If it were possible to purr, he would have. He suckled on her nipple, scraping it with his teeth, and when she whimpered in his arms, he paid full attention to her other breast, kissing it, laving it with his tongue, loving it as he hadn’t loved a woman’s breast in months. Years.

  Her fingers found his head and held his mouth to her breast. “Trev,” Grace moaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  He pulled his mouth away only long enough to answer. “Kissing you, Gracie. Tasting you.”

  “Wh…why?”

  “Because I can’t seem to stop myself.”

  “Oh,” Grace whispered. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Trev looked into her eyes, needing to confirm her message.

  She nodded, her gaze lazy and sensual. “Okay.”

  Enough said. He settled his mouth back over her nipple, wanting more of Grace, wanting to taste her everywhere.

  Just like he wanted to taste Max everywhere.

  Christ. Max.

  What was he doing? Accidentally feeling up his housemate was one thing. Ripping off her shirt and openly adoring her body while longing for a man he hadn’t seen in weeks was quite another.

  No, being with Grace wasn’t cheating on Max. You couldn’t cheat on a fuck-buddy, could you? A casual lay was a casual lay, end of story. He and Max had ensured, week in and week out, that that was all they were to each other: a Friday-night after-poker special, reserved only for those times when neither of them were seeing other people.

  It wasn’t Max’s fault Trev had tripped and fallen in love with him. Wasn’t Max’s fault that their Friday-night specials had become Friday-night spectaculars in Trev’s mind. Wasn’t Max’s fault that the wait for his text message this evening, asking if they were on for tonight, seemed interminable.

  It also wasn’t Max’s fault that Trev was so damned aroused he couldn’t resist his housemate one more day. Nope, that was all Grace’s doing. Luscious, beautiful, soft, feminine Grace tempted him like no woman ever had. If Trev didn’t know better, he’d think he was tripping and falling for Grace too.

  Impossible. You couldn’t love more than one person at a time.

  Could you?

  Maybe that would explain Trev’s difficulty in deciding which was better, sucking on Grace’s soft breast while she shivered beneath his ministrations, or nibbling on Max’s tight nipple, licking it until he groaned out loud.

  Perhaps he’d be happiest moving from one to the other? Licking Max’s muscled flesh before switching over to scoop the heavy globes of Grace’s breasts back into his hands.

  Was it any wonder he couldn’t stop himself now? Every thought about Max drove him crazy, every inch of Grace made him wild.

  What he wouldn’t do to thrust his dick into this beautiful woman. What he wouldn’t do to have Max thrust his beautiful cock in his ass.

  He claimed her mouth again in a kiss so sinful it had his dick slapping against his stomach. Her lips tormented his as she toyed with his tongue. God help him, he couldn’t resist flattening one hand over a rounded breast and trailing the other down her belly toward the waistband of her pajama pants.

  His fingers curled in eager anticipation as he slid them under the elasticized waist and skimmed his hand over the surprisingly hairless mound of her pussy.

  Trev had grown accustomed to the coarse, sexy texture of hair at the base of Max’s cock. Grace’s bareness had him growling low in his throat.

  She rocked her hips, slow at first, but then faster and harder, until his hand slipped lower, and his finger rested right above her clit.

  Were those carnal sounds coming from her? They had his balls tightening, preparing him for a mammoth explosion.

  Trev breathed deep, seeking fresh air. Instead he inhaled enticing hints of vanilla and something else. Something even more feminine, more exciting.

  The heady aroma of an aroused woman.

  He rolled his finger over her clit, loving how her carnal cries changed to a soft contented mewing.

  “Finally!” she gasped. “I thought you’d never touch me.”

  He stared at her, stunned. “I thought I’d never touch you either.”

  Grace grinned then, flashed her generous, warm, carefree grin and wrinkled her nose. “God, am I happy you did.”

  He grinned right back. How could he not? Sheer happiness flowed through him, originating from her smile and piercing straight through his confusion. “Me too, Gracie. Me too.” And then he kissed her again, feeling her smile broaden against his lips.

  He skimmed his hand lower, discovering the folds beneath her clit. They were damp and slick, and his finger slid easily between them, sinking into her channel.

  She gasped against his mouth.

  Wet heat met his touch. He sank his finger deeper, and she ground down, clenching her muscles around him. Not once did she move her mouth from his, and not once did he try to end the kiss. Holding her, penetrating her and kissing her? He’d smile for a week at this rate.

  “Grace! I need to taste you.” He dropped slowly to his knees, dragging his mouth down her throat, over her breasts and stopping at her belly button to place a kiss there. But he couldn’t stop for long. Her essence beckoned him.

  Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he pushed off her pants and froze at the sight he beheld. Perfect feminine beauty.

  Perfect.

  He buried his nose against her clit and licked her pussy.

  Licked her pussy. Her wet, slick pussy. Her smooth, femi
nine pussy.

  Christ, who would have believed he could ever feel this way again? Who’d ever have thought the creamy taste of her pussy juice would go straight to his head and make him crave more? Crave everything Grace had to offer. Her body, her mind. Her love.

  For two years he’d craved nothing but Max. He still craved Max. But it didn’t dim his hunger for Grace one bit.

  Like he’d done with his finger before, he now slid his tongue inside her channel and kissed her with all the vigor and enthusiasm he’d used to kiss her mouth.

  She tasted like nectar and cream and honey. Grace was sweet with a hint of the forbidden, while Max was salty with a generous helping of man. They both blew his mind, both whet his appetite until he felt he’d never get enough.

  As unbelievable as Grace tasted, Trev couldn’t help but miss Max. If only he were there too…

  Fuck, he could sample them both. Switch between the two. Licking Grace before sucking Max. Then back to Grace.

  How morally correct could it be to lick Grace and crave Max at the same time? Surely there had to be a rule against something like that? There should be, because the very thought of it was so wicked, he feared he might come just imagining it.

  She trembled in his grasp, emitting those soft mewling sounds that penetrated the fog of desire around his brain and burrowed deep in his dick.

  More, he needed more Grace. He burrowed a finger between her ass cheeks and trailed it over her hidden treasure. Ah, God, he wanted to lick her there too. Wanted to feast on her butt the way he feasted on Max’s.

  Not possible in this position, not without some serious neck contortionism. He had to make do with his hand.

  Dipping his finger into her pussy, he helped himself to a dollop of her cream and used it to paint tiny circles around her anus.

  “Oh, my God, Trev…” Grace widened her stance, giving him easier access.

  He kissed her harder and brought his other hand around to stroke her clit. He had two years of pussy famine to make up for, and he intended to make up for it in a spectacular fashion. He was going for the hat trick—clit, pussy and ass.

  As his thumb brushed her clit, softly at first, but then with slightly more pressure, he lovingly licked into her channel and continued to paint her hole with his finger.

  Her shudders began in earnest. Grace’s thighs stiffened and she ceased breathing.

  He breached her ass, sliding just the tip of his finger inside, past the tight ring of muscle.

  It was all Grace needed. She came with a cry. Her channel squeezed at his tongue, pulling it in as far as it would go. Her juices leaked over his lips and chin. She rocked her hips, pressing her clit harder against his thumb, and her ass clamped around his finger, making further entrance impossible.

  Spasms shook her body, and Grace’s long, low moans of release reverberated through the room. Trev took advantage of the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of her pussy muscles to remove his tongue.

  He lapped at her juices as her climax eased up.

  Used to catching and swallowing Max’s come as it spurted into his mouth, Trev relished the job at hand. So very different from Max’s orgasms, but just as satisfying. He licked her pussy a little more enthusiastically, making sure to catch every last drop. His renewed vigor must have set something off in her, for she cried out and came again, the rhythmic convulsions increasing in speed and strength before once again dwindling slowly away.

  “Oh, God,” Grace gasped, and her legs shook violently.

  Trev caught her as her knees gave in and she collapsed in a limp pile in his arms, her breath uneven and ragged.

  At the precise moment Trev wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close as he could get her, his phone beeped.

  The much-anticipated text message from Max had finally arrived, and for the first time ever, Trev had no idea how to respond.

  Chapter Two

  It’s complicated.

  What the fuck did that mean? A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Hell, it had sufficed for two years. But no, Trev’s response to his text had been It’s complicated.

  Did that mean It’s complicated, yes or It’s complicated, no?

  An answer either way would have helped Max’s mood somewhat. Instead of trying to hide his disappointment, frustration and confusion behind his cards, he could be sitting in aroused anticipation of the night to come, or hanging limp with the knowledge he’d be going home alone.

  He’d waited six weeks for tonight. Looked forward to it with an eagerness he’d never have believed possible, so a straight answer would have been helpful. It wasn’t just the sex he’d anticipated, although that alone had him standing at attention every time he thought about it. Nope, Max had experienced a revelation while away. One he was eager to share with Trev.

  Funny, he’d never bought into that distance-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder crap—until now. Damn it, over a month away, and the only person he’d missed had been Trev. Missed? He’d fucking pined for the guy.

  The whole fuck-buddy thing they had going on between them? Not so special anymore. Max was over it. He wanted more from Trev. A whole lot more.

  He dragged his attention back to the poker game, making sure to look anywhere but at Trev. He couldn’t bear to look at his face, his mouth. Couldn’t stand to see the lips he ached to kiss and not know whether he’d get a chance tonight.

  The sexual tension simmering around the table only made things worse. If the terrible triplets didn’t get themselves a room soon, someone was gonna get done right there on the table. Probably Jay, with the way Hunter and Jules looked at him now.

  Shit, he wanted to experience the tension and the love and the happiness that flowed between them. Not that any of them interested him on a sexual level. He just envied what they’d found together.

  Or maybe he just wanted to get laid, pure and simple.

  Nope, not that simple. Des, Megan and Alex looked just as happy as the terrible trips, and Megan’s skirt had creases in it where there shouldn’t be creases. Not that he’d noticed.

  Max didn’t just want to get laid. He wanted the emotions that went with the sex. The commitment. Like these six members of the poker school seemed to have found. He’d never have thought it, but he was ready to settle down again. And he’d never have guessed it, but he wanted to do that settling with Trev.

  The bitch of it? Now that he finally knew what he wanted—Trev—the answer to his text had been It’s complicated. Max had no idea what complications Trev referred to, and Trev had no idea just how fucking complicated Max wanted it to get.

  They’d long ago shortened their messages to the one word. What had started out as a weekly text of: We on for tonight? Yes/No? had quickly morphed into Yes/No? and finally just Yes? The answers had always been simple—one word, yes or no.

  So why was tonight different? What was complicated? Was there another man? A woman? Could be either with Trev. If it was either, was it serious? Was Trev at that same point as Max, ready to commit—but to someone else? Or perhaps it was a general disinterest on Trev’s part. A hard week at work, some tough clients, and Trev might not feel like sex tonight. Criminal law had a nasty habit of throwing tough clients his way.

  There was no way of knowing, especially because he and Trev hadn’t said more than hello to each other since he’d arrived at Trev’s house. He’d been delayed at the shop, talking with his sister about her newest jewelry designs and their anticipated launch date, so he’d missed the general small talk and catch-up that preceded a game. Much as he’d wanted to speak to Trev, he hadn’t had a chance.

  Max looked at his cards and checked the flop. He’d played on autopilot up until now, his mind more in Trev’s pants than on the game. But the nine and jack in his hand matched the two nines and the jack on the table. Waddya know? He’d flopped a full house.

  Tricky, since that was one of the
things he’d wanted to discuss with Trev tonight. A full house.

  He bet low, giving no indication of the cards he held.

  Megan, ever eager to show her new and ridiculously talented poker skills, matched his bet and raised him. Max smiled to himself. He was gonna reel her right in on this hand. Play her all the way.

  He wanted to play Trev all the way too.

  Jay was in, and so was Alex. Everyone else folded.

  Megan bet higher on the turn, forcing the three men to match her or fold. Al folded, Jay and Max bet. Max waited for the river before betting high. Megan matched his chips, while Jay tossed in his cards.

  The pot was big. The largest one of the night. Everyone watched, rapt, eager to see who’d win. Alex and Des cheered for Megan. Hunter, Jay and Jules poked fun at both remaining players, and Trev… Damn, Trev watched him with his unnerving brown eyes, his attention fixed on Max’s face.

  So intent was Trev’s focus, Max felt it all the way down to his groin. Felt the pull of attraction between them, the tug of desire, like silver heat in his veins, racing through his bloodstream and yanking on his balls.

  A couple of seconds under the watchful eyes of Trevor Greenfield, and Max was hard as a fucking pole—and losing his focus on the game.

  He revealed his cards.

  “Damn,” Megan muttered. “I thought you were bluffing.”

  He was. Big-time. Pretending he didn’t give a fuck if he stayed over with Trev tonight or not. “Me? I never bluff.” He winked at Megan.

  She gave a playful frown and set her hand down. Three jacks. Good, but not good enough.

  “I guess this means the next round of drinks is on me,” Max said and made a big production of hauling his winnings across the table.

  “Hey, I’m happy to spring for drinks,” was Megan’s quick retort. “Just so long as you all have tap water.”

  Everyone laughed. Megan and a small pile of chips was not a common sight at their poker evenings.

  Since the topic had been brought up, Jay suggested they stop for a drink break anyway. The suggestion was met with a large round of cheers, and Trev disappeared into his kitchen for a fresh bucket of ice.