by Tasha Fawkes
I grinned as Marta/Maria pressed her body against me, her breasts squishing against my back, her groin undulating against my ass. I glanced down and smiled, satisfied to see that my dick was already rising again. She reached a hand around my hip and grasped my dick, stroking it softly, her fingers lightly brushing the head. I cleared my throat.
“I’ll be home tomorrow.”
The call abruptly disconnected. I glanced down at the screen, shook my head, and then placed the phone on the bar as I turned and deliberately slid my cock between her thighs. It was slick and ready. I lifted an eyebrow. Those two were like little Energizer bunnies, always ready to go, seemingly without limits. I grinned and lowered my lips to hers, indulging in a bit of tongue play as I lifted my hands to cup her breasts, my thumbs first brushing over the nipples, then using my fingers to gently tweak and twist those nipples until they grew into hard nubs. Satisfied, I cupped her heavy breasts, one in each hand, testing their weight and then squeezing while my cock slid easily in and out of her thighs, brushing against her lower lips.
She groaned and broke off the kiss, gazing up at me with soft eyes. “Do you have to leave?”
I chuckled. “I have no intentions of leaving, at least for a couple more days. I’m having too much fun.”
Way too much fun, and I wasn’t about to cut my fun short because my overbearing father demanded it. I had long grown tired of him reminding me that I was the sole heir to the Shaw’s billion-dollar oil empire. Tired of my father telling me it was time to quit sowing wild oats and settle down, to learn more about the business end rather than merely reaping the financial rewards of his hard work. Tired of telling my father that I had no interest in taking that business over. At least not yet. No, I was having too much fun? and I wasn’t about to trade the women, the booze, or my jet-setting ways to sit behind a desk pushing papers for the rest of my life.
My father was one of the most powerful men in Dallas, hell, even Texas, and when he said something, people jumped. I had begun to rebel against that by my fourteenth birthday, right after my mom died—
Marta or Maria chuckled softly and stroked her hands down along my ribs. A fingernail traced the line of hair from my chest down to my stomach, promoting my abs to contract. That finger continued to descend as it headed for my dick. Her other hand reached between my legs to cup my balls, heavy with desire, while the other gently wrapped around my cock and slowly squeezed as she stroked long, then loosened her grip. Her hand slid downward, her grip once again tightening as she reached the base, only to repeat the movement.
To hell with my father. I pushed thoughts of him completely out of my mind and focused only on the wonderful things that Marta/Maria was doing with her tongue on my nipples. After several seconds of that unique and exquisite torture, she slowly slid her body downward until she knelt on the floor in front of me, my cock jutting outward toward her mouth. I watched as she took my dick into her mouth and began her tongue play on my head. I reached for the bottle of Scotch and quickly poured myself an inch and then downed it, my attention torn between the heat making its way down to my stomach and the heat burgeoning upward from my groin at the same time.
I set the glass on the bar and placed both hands on her shoulders, reveling in the feel of her warm and wet tongue slowly sliding over my head. Hers bobbed gently as she gave me one of the most exquisite blow jobs I’d ever had the pleasure to receive, pausing occasionally to suck on my head before she began all over again.
It took most of my willpower to stand unmoving, reveling in the sensation of her hand manipulating my balls, the other grasping the base of my shaft while her mouth and tongue worshiped my cock. Once in a while her tongue stroked the length of my shaft, wrapping around it like a snake curling around a tree branch. My cock was thick and engorged now, the veins distended. Every new sensation prompted it to respond of its own accord. I sucked in a breath as she paused again to suckle deeply, taking nearly half of my length into her mouth. I couldn’t resist. I tilted my hips forward and shoved myself deeper, and she took me. I tilted my head back and relaxed, feet spread slightly, my fingers resting on her bony shoulders… sinking into physical pleasure that had my blood throbbing hotly through my veins.
I frowned slightly when she stopped and pulled her mouth away. I glanced down at her, an eyebrow raised in silent question.
“Your friend… Nick… what if he comes back like he did last night? Should we go back to the bedroom?”
I thought about that. Had Nick joined in on the fun with the twins last night? No, I would have remembered that. I shrugged. “I’m not expecting him, but if he comes over, I don’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time I shared with him.”
She offered only the slightest of grins.
“I don’t want him. I want you.”
I chuckled and reached down, urging her to stand. Without ado, I lifted her up onto the top of the bar, which made it much easier for me to suckle her breasts. First one, then the other. I wrapped my lips around her areola and teased her nipple with my tongue, reveling in the textures… then I sucked, hard then soft, swirling my tongue over that luscious mound and nipple before repeating the process like she had done with my dick.
I teased and tweaked her nipples, pinching them softly while she made soft, mewling noises and spread her legs wider on top of the bar. I traced my fingers down her taut stomach, downward along her abdomen, and cupped her mound, massaging until she wiggled with impatience. Only then did I slide a finger deep into her. Her internal muscles closed around my finger, slick and hot as she slowly rocked against my hand, my thumb fingering her clitoris. She gyrated and thrust her breasts upward, begging for my tongue, head arched back.
I obliged. I sucked on her tongue at the same pace my finger slid deep inside and then withdrew. Soon she breathed hard, gasping for air. My cock throbbed and demanded release. I withdrew my finger from her wetness and wrapped my arms around her torso, my face nuzzling the crook of her neck as I gently sucked the skin there. She moaned and pressed her groin closer. I pulled her off the bar. Her arms reached for my shoulders as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I found her entry point with my dick and surged upward, burying myself deep into her depths. Her back pressed against the wall of the wet bar, I grasped her ass with both hands and pumped hard— two, three, then four times before I felt a surge. She ground down on me, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she met every thrust of my hips with a rotating grind of her own.
I felt the surge of hot semen erupting and briefly regretted not wearing a cover. While the twins told me last night that it wasn’t necessary, that they were protected, I shouldn’t have been so careless. No telling where those pussies had been before me. No, that definitely wouldn’t happen again.
I was just coming down from the rush of pleasure, allowing Marta/Maria to slowly slide her feet down to the floor, when I heard a noise. I glanced up and found the other twin standing in the middle of the living room, also naked, the fingers of one hand plucking at her own nipple.
“You save any of that for me?” She smiled.
Both sisters giggling, I followed her back into the bedroom. By the time I entered, she was already on the bed, leaning against the headboard, knees bent and spread, offering me an ample view. The twin stepping into the room behind me chuckled softly and then headed for the bathroom. Moments later, I heard the shower.
I spent the rest of the day literally indulging the obviously insatiable needs of the sisters. By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, I was exhausted. I couldn’t get it up one more time no matter how hard I tried. Which was just as well, because after I treated the girls to room service and steak dinners while I showered, they bid their goodbyes.
It’d been fun, a welcome distraction as women always were, but after they left a silence settled over the room. It smelled of sex. I roamed the suite for a few minutes, pausing long enough to gaze out the windows at the bright lights of downtown Ibiza, watching the traffic, the airplane lights in the distance,
idly wondering where all those people were going.
I downed another inch of Scotch, not wanting to deal with such insipid thoughts. My God, I had just spent twenty-four hours indulging in nearly endless sex, and that’s all I could think about?
I turned from the window and used the room phone to call down to housekeeping, requesting a change of bedding. The housekeeper didn’t like it, but I would tip her generously for her trouble, as I always did.
An hour later, another hot shower and fresh bedding awaiting, I collapsed onto the bed and sank into a deep and fitful sleep.
*
The incessant knocking on my door annoyed the hell out of me. The pounding wouldn’t stop. I knew it was Nick, coming up for air from wherever the hell he had been since we’d parted ways in the nightclub the night before… No, the night before that. I had slept well, but I still felt exhausted. I could’ve stayed most of the day in bed and been perfectly content. The knocking came in bursts of three, accompanied by my name.
“Brady, open the fucking door!”
With a growl, I threw the covers back and walked to the door in my boxers. I opened it open with a scowl as Nick stepped into the room and headed for the couch, eyeing me up and down.
“You look like shit,” he commented.
“What do you want, Nick? I was sleeping.”
“Front me some more money?”
I turned to my friend, who didn’t look any more rested than I did. Bloodshot eyes, hair mussed, cheeks stubbled with whiskers. That’s how Nick always asked for money, as if he always intended to pay it back. He never did. Most of the time, I didn’t really care. I enjoyed hanging out and partying with Nick. Only sometimes did I grow annoyed at my friend.
“What for?” I grumbled.
“Blow.”
Figured. “Let me get dressed.” Nick nodded as I stepped past him and entered the bedroom. I quickly donned clean jeans and a T-shirt, then yanked on a pair of tennis shoes sans socks. I headed for the wet bar and pulled my wallet from one of the drawers under the counter top and gestured toward the door. “Come on.”
We left my room and took the elevator downstairs. Outside, the air was thick and balmy with midsummer heat. Not as humid as Texas, but close to it. I headed for the ATM on the corner. The banks were closed, but the €600 limit would be adequate for the both of us.
Nick and I exchanged small talk, though I refused to indulge most of Nick’s questions about the hours I’d spent with the twins. I didn’t ask Nick where he had been. I was tired, my head was pounding again, and I was in a foul mood. I wasn’t certain why.
I slid my card into the ATM, punched in my password, and then selected the maximum withdrawal. My hand hovered near the money slot, waiting. Nothing happened. I looked at the screen and knew enough Spanish to translate. Card declined.
“What the hell?”
“What’s the matter?” Nick asked, peering over my shoulder.
“It declined my card.”
“Try another one.”
I did but got the same message.
“Maybe it’s broken?”
I returned to the main dashboard, but everything seemed to be working all right. I was able to access my balances. I certainly had enough money to cover the withdrawal. I tried another credit card with the same result.
“What the fuck?”
“That one too?”
I tried one more card before realization hit. “Dammit!” My father had found out where I was. Mumbling under my breath, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed Frederick, my dad’s lawyer.
“What the hell is going on?” I demanded the moment Frederick answered the phone.
“I think you already have a pretty good idea,” the lawyer replied.
I scowled. I had nothing personal against Frederick. The man had been my dad’s lawyer for over thirty years and was extremely loyal. “What’s going on, Frederick?”
“Your father wanted you home today. You didn’t show. He put a hold on your accounts.”
I strove to retain hold on my temper. “And how the hell am I supposed to get home without any money?”
“You didn’t tell your father you were in Spain, did you?”
For a second I wondered how Frederick knew and then remembered that as my dad’s lawyer, Frederick had access to just about every financial aspect of not only my father’s life, but mine as well.
“I booked a flight home for you. British Airways, with a connection in London. Flight thirteen-fifty-two. It leaves at nine o’clock this evening, your time. You’d better be on it, Brady.”
The words were not spoken as a threat, but the tone was unmistakable. I cursed under my breath. I didn’t take my frustration out on Frederick; it wasn’t his fault. Poor Frederick was often caught in the middle of the power struggle between father and son. Not the kind of power struggle that occurred in the business, but the kind of power struggle that was prevalent in my relationship with my father. The more my father tried to keep me under his thumb, the more I rebelled.
“Fine, on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You have to buy a ticket for Nick too. He’s with me.”
Silence for a moment. “Of course he is,” the lawyer sighed. “There will be a ticket waiting for him too. See you tomorrow.”
Nick watched warily. “What’s going on?”
“Party’s over,” I said. “Get your stuff. We’re headed for the airport.”
Chapter Four
Dana
Walking away from campus late in the afternoon, I sighed. I had thought things couldn’t get much worse than the day before when Charlie had been beaten up by his bookie. I was wrong. The moment we left the hospital together, Charlie had insisted on going home, promising that he would go right to bed and stay there. He promised to call me if he felt any symptoms of a concussion.
I had briefly argued with him, but not wanting to draw him into an argument, which wouldn’t be good for his health at the moment anyway, I had finally acquiesced. Charlie could be stubborn. It was often difficult to find the balance between wanting to mother and protect him and wishing that he would just grow the hell up already. It was frustrating. Maybe if I didn’t love him so much, I wouldn’t care, but that’s not who I was. I did love Charlie. Very much.
Just before microbiology class this morning, I’d received more bad news. A casual friend in my advanced anatomy and physiology class had told me that the school was going to close at the end of the semester. I didn’t believe it. My friend insisted it was true. Her dad was on the school board, and apparently, the news would be announced just after spring break.
I fought the urge to cry. Why was everything so difficult?
After my last class, I had gone to the Dean’s office. Not surprisingly, he’d confirmed the rumor. He checked my records on the computer and confirmed my full scholarship, shaking his head in commiseration as he did so.
“You have a solid GPA and we can help you transfer your credits to Texas U, but unfortunately, Dana, there are no more scholarships available until next year. You’re paid up through the end of this semester. If you do transfer, you’ll have to find a way to pay the tuition for your last two semesters on your own, unless you wait to finish later next year.”
My heart sank. No, I couldn’t wait that long. “How much is it?”
“Living off campus?”
I nodded and watched as he tapped on his keyboard.
“About fifteen grand a semester.”
I nearly crumpled right then and there. Thirty grand! I swallowed hard, proud of myself for containing the surge of panic that swept through me as I calmly listened to his comments. Only two semesters left to go and then I’d be able to take my nursing boards. Two more and I could start earning a decent living.
I left the Dean’s office, and only after his door closed behind me did I allow the surge of tears to fill my eyes. Where the hell could I come up with that kind of money?
Upset and needing
time to think, I had foregone the bus and decided to walk home, wracking my brain for ideas. I might consider skipping the upcoming semester and work my ass off to save up enough to pay my own way, but fifteen thousand dollars apiece? Not as a waitress.
I was barely managing to pay the rent on my crappy studio apartment and living expenses as it was. Even if I worked full time, I doubted I could save that amount of money in a few months’ time. At the same time, I knew very well that the longer I took off school, the less chance I would have of going back.
My thoughts heavy, I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me. It was the middle of the afternoon, the streets relatively quiet as I passed one business after another. Suddenly, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I gasped and quickly spun around, ready to chew out whoever it was, but froze.
Crap. It was Slim Pete, Charlie’s bookie. I had met him once. The guy gave me the creeps. He had some kind of thyroid problem that caused his eyes to bulge slightly. He was skinny, all flesh and bone, with greasy, shoulder-length black hair tucked behind his ears. He had an overlarge nose and a slash of a mouth filled with a surprisingly well cared for set of teeth.
“What do you want?” Just what I needed. I barely held back a grimace when he licked his lips and smiled.
“I thought of a way that we could work off Charlie’s debt.”
I frowned. I had never known the slimy bastard to care about anyone. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, let’s put it this way. We can make some arrangements, so to speak. Call them appointments, whatever… I can pay you fifteen-hundred each time.”
My frown deepened. “What the hell are you talking about, Pete?”
“Sleep with me.”
I stared in stunned dismay. “What?”
He grinned, nodding. “See, it’ll work out for everyone. You know I’ve always had the hots for you.”
His gaze passed over my face, lingered on my boobs, then focused on my groin. I barely resisted the urge to knee him in the balls or punch him in the nose. “Go to hell, Pete.”