Ocean's Touch

by Denise Townsend

  “Thank you for the offer, Alex. While I’m pleased you think so highly of my organizational skills, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

  Alex looked at Meredith in confusion, realizing too late that he’d badly misjudged his approach.

  “I’ve offended you,” he said. “I don’t know how, but I have. Please, tell me what I’ve done.”

  Dylan hastily sent out calming vibes, as Meredith visibly gathered her self-control.

  “You called me ‘practical’,” she said in the same voice she might have said, “You called me a chipmunk-faced space dog.”

  It was Alex’s turn to look confused. Dylan sighed.

  “I’m sorry. I meant it as a compliment,” Alex began, but it was Meredith’s turn to interrupt.

  “Well, it’s not a compliment. It’s what everyone says when they mean I’m boring. And I’m not boring. Or practical,” Meredith said, her face growing red with a combination of embarrassment and frustration.

  “I am far more than just practical,” Meredith finished finally. Then she looked into Alex’s eyes, her own shining with a combination of rebelliousness and fear of rejection.

  Alex sat staring back at Meredith. Dylan felt the red-haired man sorting through his own emotions as he thought through what Meredith had just said, along with everything she hadn’t said. With relief, Dylan suddenly felt a rush of feeling from Alex that signaled the man had almost certainly come to the right conclusion.

  Alex radiated desire and tenderness as he finally spoke.

  “I could tell you how utterly, deliciously impractical I know you are, Merry. Or I could show you.”

  Meredith’s eyes grew wide as Alex stood to offer her his hand.

  “And I’d much rather show you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Meredith stared up in confusion at Alex’s proffered hand.

  One minute he’s offering me a job because I’m practical, and the next minute he’s offering to make me his lover? Meredith thought. What’s his logic now? Because I’m sitting on his sofa and wearing stockings? Is that what I get to be to him—his secretary or his whore?

  Dylan could feel Meredith’s ire rising on the heels of her confusion. While she wanted Alex, he’d managed to use the two worst approaches possible to woo her.

  It was a typical problem with humans. On the one hand, Dylan couldn’t help but be amused and exasperated at their inability to communicate with each other. Because his own people were empaths, there was no point in lying or trying to hide one’s feelings. They rarely ever needed to talk to one another, as so much communication could be done through their emotional responses to stimuli. Humans, however, seemed never to say anything they actually felt, a particularly silly strategy considering their short lifespans.

  On the other hand, Dylan also recognized the other side of their dilemma, and acknowledged human bravery when it came to love. It was easy to judge them from the perspective of an empath, and to see their reticence in communicating as silly or self-defeating. But over the years he’d come to realize just how vulnerable were humans. They had no way of knowing whether the person they loved was honest with them or lied to them about their feelings. And yet humans risked their hearts all the time by offering them up like sacrifices to inscrutable gods.

  So Dylan broke his own rules, and he cheated.

  It was only a little bit of cheating. He didn’t use glamour to make Meredith or Alex feel differently from how they truly felt, but Dylan did purposely change the emotion in the air. He radiated sincerity into the room, making Alex want to be honest with Meredith in a way he wasn’t used to. Dylan understood men like Alex—Dylan had been very similar to the human male in his younger years. The fact was, Alex was used to charm and reputation paving the way for him. He rarely had to examine his own feelings, let alone express them. That a woman had never yet moved him deeply, didn’t bother Alex. He had enough distractions in his life, including enough playmates, that he’d never felt the loss of not having bonded with another person. The fact that Meredith had always gotten under his skin; that he’d always been oddly cranky about Teddy, and riled up over the way Meredith had changed over the years; that he kept comparing his lovers to a “mystery” ideal whose dark eyes held a sadness he wanted so badly to erase—he’d let these facts slide unexamined over the surface of his mind.

  But Dylan changed that with a nudge of his empathic powers. Suddenly, Alex wanted to examine those feelings, those reactions, those stray thoughts he’d been ignoring for all of those years.

  Suddenly, Alex wanted to be honest with himself and with Meredith.

  Meredith, meanwhile, needed to be calmed down. Dylan did that, ratcheting down her tension by sending out calming waves of energy.

  At the same time, Dylan opened Alex and Meredith up to one another, so that Meredith could feel Alex’s true intentions behind his admittedly rather fumbled playboy strategies. And Alex could feel what Meredith felt—her desire for Alex clouded by her confusion, her affection for him tempered by her fear of rejection.

  As Dylan linked the two, he gloried in the depth of their feelings for one another. Dylan couldn’t help but liken their emotions to a good stew—their feelings had been simmering for so long that the depth of flavor was delicious to Dylan’s empathic capabilities.

  He watched as both Meredith and Alex “tasted” what Dylan did, their eyes growing wide at that tender intimation of the other’s true feelings.

  Meredith spoke first. “I don’t understand,” she said with utter honesty. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  Alex paused, suddenly wanting to examine his own heart in order to answer her truly. What he found there surprised him.

  “I think I want everything from you,” Alex said, his voice holding a note of awe at what the woman before him made him feel. “But I’ll take whatever you offer me.”

  And then Alex did what he felt was right—he knelt before Meredith like a supplicant, catlike green eyes holding hers with a gentle, imploring gaze she’d never seen in them before.

  Meanwhile, Meredith’s brain was curiously quiet. While Alex’s claim that he wanted everything from her should have scared her, she felt the truth behind his words. He didn’t want to dictate to her as Teddy had, or possess her as if she were Pygmalion’s statue to be carved into perfection.

  Alex meant he wanted her as she was. And while he wanted her to be his in a way she knew shocked him, he wanted her partially because she was independent. Meredith could feel his affection for the woman she was, not for some woman Alex wanted her to be.

  And that woman wanted him right back.

  So Meredith reached forward, running gentle fingertips over his forehead, down his cheek, and over the soft bristles of his rakish goatee. Her fingertips lingered over his lips, and he kissed them gently.

  Dylan felt that most powerful lust, the kind that can only be built on true affection, blossom before him. He smiled as Meredith leaned forward to look into Alex’s eyes.

  “I want you,” she said simply. But her emotions carried to Alex a complex tide of emotions—different currents representing her physical lust for him, her desire to see his world, her affection for him…an affection that was quickly edging into love.

  Alex reacted physically in very typical Alex-fashion. He buried his hands in her hair with practiced ease and pulled her toward him for a kiss. But as he kissed her, he let her feel what he’d found buried deep in his heart.

  The fact that he already loved her. And always had, if he was honest. He’d loved her since she’d swung up to him, all coltish legs and giggling intelligence, at the party where Teddy had first introduced them. He’d loved her despite her love for another man, and he’d loved her even more when she’d risen to every challenge Teddy and his mother had set before her. And his heart had nearly broken for her when Teddy had grown ill, and she’d faced even that horrific battle like a knight of old.

  And he’d loved her for surviving that lost war, both in heart and mind
.

  So while Alex’s kiss was practiced, the passion he felt was new. He’d never really wanted anyone the way he wanted Meredith.

  The way he’d always wanted Meredith.

  Meredith’s heart raced as her lips met Alex’s. The kiss was perfect—but then a man with Alex’s experience should kiss well. Instead, what made the kiss perfect was what he felt for her. She felt bathed in his love, and her own tentative, scared affection for him couldn’t help but blossom under such nurturing emotion.

  Suddenly, however, Alex broke the kiss. His hands moved down to rest on the soft silk of her stocking-clad knees as he turned to Dylan.

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I seem to be seducing your date.”

  For a moment, Alex’s artists’ sight veiled his vision, and the man who sat across from them at the dining table was no man, but an iron-haired sea god, clad only in a cloak of sealskin. The man’s onyx eyes were fixed on Alex, and for a split second Alex glimpsed eternity.

  And then the vision was gone, and Dylan was a handsome human male wearing a dinner jacket.

  “To be honest,” Dylan said, letting both Alex and Meredith feel the truth of his words, “I’d like nothing more than to see the two of you happy.”

  Meredith blinked back tears, knowing that her selkie lover had made this night possible. She’d never have been ready for Alex—for the intensity of his feelings, for the sexual challenge he represented, or for the changes in her own life that he symbolized—if Dylan hadn’t come to her first.

  So Meredith did what she felt was right in that moment. She reached out a hand for Dylan and then looked down at Alex. Who only smiled hungrily in response before pulling her to her feet.

  Dirty bugger, she thought affectionately, her own lust rising in her belly as Alex pulled her toward one of those huge, padded coffee-table-cum-ottomans.

  Dirty, delicious bugger, she thought as she followed him, grabbing Dylan’s hand and pulling him up with them. Alex pushed the fanned-out stack of magazines off the padded table, then sprawled out on it, leaving room for Dylan, who joined him. Rather handily, and probably not accidentally, the “table” was the exact size of a queen-sized bed, and looked equally as comfortable.

  Dirty, delicious, brilliant bugger, Meredith thought, as the lust in her belly spread through her limbs like Greek fire.

  That left both men watching Meredith, who suddenly felt deeply self-conscious.

  “Strip for us,” Alex said, his green eyes dark with desire.

  Meredith looked at Dylan, who smiled encouragingly. The selkie also let her feel both his and Alex’s lust. She could pull her clothes off like she was getting ready for bed and they wouldn’t care—they wanted her, not an experienced stripper.

  Not that they’d say no to a striptease, mind.

  So Meredith did her best. The hunger in their eyes and their emotions helped, but she wasn’t a natural exhibitionist. It took quite a bit of courage for her to start undoing the buttons her blouse. Then she undid the buttons at her wrists, before letting the garment fall off her shoulders.

  Alex sighed as she did so and moved his hand to rub his cock through the fabric of his pants. Meredith watched him, riveted as she’d been before by the sight. Of him touching himself

  Then Meredith undid the hook-and-eye at the back of her skirt, before slowly lowering the zipper. The sound it made was loud in the quiet room, and Meredith felt her cunt throb. Both men reacted to the sound as well—Alex undid the top button of his trousers, and Dylan’s encouraging smile dissolved as he watched her intently, lust in his eyes.

  Keeping a careful grip on her skirt, Meredith lowered it slowly, teasingly, down her legs. She bent over as she did so, knowing the men would appreciate a view of her cleavage, but also because it kept hidden her sexy garter belt and panties.

  Alex groaned, unzipping his own pants and reaching a hand inside as Meredith slowly straightened, then stepped out of her skirt.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, as he pulled free his cock. She could feel his approving gaze roving over her body as if it were hands.

  “So are you,” she said, her voice oddly husky as she watched him pump his thick shaft with his fist.

  “Come here,” he commanded, and she happily did so.

  Dylan pulled his own, already hard cock free as Meredith sauntered toward them. He loved the hungry look in her eyes, the way she licked her lips when she saw him masturbating in front of her.

  “Suck our cocks,” Alex whispered, as Meredith knelt between him and Dylan.

  Meredith’s only reply was to reach out both of her hands, grasping him and Dylan in one warm fist each. She explored them with her hands and eyes, first, noting their differences. Both had gorgeous cocks—Dylan’s slightly bigger, but Alex’s somehow prettier.

  Both men moaned at her first soft touch, and then kept moaning. Dylan had already noticed that Meredith had exceptionally talented, gentle hands, and she was very sensitive to his desires—adjusting her grip slightly with his moans, paying attention if he moved her hand or otherwise indicated something felt better or worse.

  In other words, she brought all of her keen intelligence and gifts of observation into the bedroom with her, meaning that while she might not have been very experienced, her natural talents more than made up for it.

  Meanwhile, Meredith’s senses and thoughts were reeling. Part of her couldn’t believe that she was doing this, but another part of her felt as if her actions were utterly natural. Alex and Dylan weren’t just any men, and what they were doing felt right. It felt good.

  She also knew she could back out. She had no doubt that if she walked away now, neither man would think less of her. They’d be disappointed, surely, but not in any critical way.

  Do I want to walk away? she thought.

  No. I want this, she realized. The fact was, she loved having these two men at her mercy. She loved knowing she could pleasure them. She loved knowing that she cared for both of them, albeit in very different ways, and that she could give each of them a part of herself, along with pleasure.

  Meredith also knew she’d take quite a bit of pleasure in return.

  With one last caress of her hand, Meredith lowered her lips to Alex’s cock, still keeping one patient hand around Dylan’s.

  She wanted this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  That first taste of Alex’s cock was heaven.

  A fat drop of precome awaited Meredith’s lapping tongue, and his groan at its warm, wet touch gratified her deeply. She kept gently stroking Dylan, not forgetting her selkie lover as she let her mouth take in more of Alex’s cock.

  He kept groaning as she took in all of him that she could.

  Then his fingers were in her hair, pulling her back to lift her face to him. He kissed her lips hungrily, his voice ragged as he spoke.

  “You make me feel like a teenager again,” he growled. “I could come right now if you touched me.”

  Her only response was a slow, deliberate pump of his cock with the hand that had been resting on his balls.

  He moaned, his face spasming in a rictus of pleasure as he let go of her hair and leaned back on his hands on the padded table.

  “You’re killing me,” he groaned as she lowered her lips to him again. Sucking him gently into her mouth, she worked him with her tongue as she fucked his cock in and out of her lips. It was only when he begged her to stop, his hips bucking, that she pulled away.

  Part of her wanted that power over him—to make him come despite himself—but another part wanted to make this last.

  So she shifted slightly, still keeping one soft hand on Alex’s cock, to where Dylan awaited her.

  His lovely, if glamoured, eyes smiled at her, and for the first time she wished to see him as he truly was, to kiss his true lips. But she knew there’d be too much to explain to Alex, so instead she merely returned Dylan’s smile with all the affection she felt for him.

  “Oh, Mer,” he murmured as she lowered her warm mouth to Dylan
’s cock. He felt different from Alex—fuller and with that distinctive taste and smell of the sea that he always carried with him.

  But soon he too was moaning for her lips and tongue, as she caressed his hard length, both hands stroking her men as her mouth worked Dylan’s cock.

  When he was shaking beneath her, she withdrew, only to return to Alex. He groaned for her again as she pumped down on him. Only after he physically pulled her away did she return to Dylan, loving her ability to make these two men whom she cared for in such different ways both strain and cry out for her body.

  She loved the power, yes. But she also loved the intimacy.

  And she was surprised at that fact. Had she been asked about a threesome a month ago, she would have answered that obviously it was loveless—just some stunt dreamed up by porn directors to keep punters interested.

  Never could she have imagined how intimate it could feel. How she felt like she was sharing herself, in the most private and personal of ways, with two men who were sharing with her in kind.

  Meredith knew that not all threesomes could be like this, and that many would be as banal as she’d thought them to be.

  But that’s the nature of sex, she realized. It can mean everything and nothing, depending on whom it’s with.

  So she felt only joy as Dylan lifted her mouth off his cock again, finding her lips with his for a breathless kiss.

  “No more, lass. I can’t take it. And I think it’s your turn.

  Dylan stood, spinning her about so that she fell, laughing, onto the soft, padded table. Just like she’d thought, it felt even more comfortable than her bed at home.

  Alex rolled to his side so he lay next to her, head propped up on his hand as his eyes feasted on her body. Meredith ran her hand down his shirtfront.

  “Off,” she commanded.

  Alex grinned, scooting down and off the table to stand next to Dylan. It was Meredith’s turn to watch, and she pushed up onto her elbows to do so.