by Tina Donahue
At the end of it was the master suite. Just past its double doors, Tim and David waited for her.
Two great-looking guys any woman would have been happy to share an evening with. David was such a doll, so damn sweet and giving, while Tim was more BS than he realized. Alexa had seen his confidence wane when he’d found her and Hunt in the bath, clinging to each other like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet when the Titanic finally sunk. No longer full of himself, Tim had looked uncertain as to whether Alexa still wanted him too. That one moment of doubt had made him more appealing to her than all of his previous cockiness.
She wondered if he’d mellow out tonight, becoming tender, and if David would be more assertive. It might be a nice change, even though neither of them would ever be Hunt.
Alexa’s step paused at the unwanted thought. Her palms were damp. She ran them down her strapless black sheath, as snug as the gold dress she’d worn the first time she’d been with them. Rarely had she been as wound up as she was right now, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
You’re going to have a great time, just like always. They’re going to do whatever you want. They won’t leave you…at least not until it’s over.
And then it wouldn’t matter. Although she liked Hunt’s friends, she didn’t really care if she ever saw them again. There was no connection other than a need to quell her pressing loneliness. Never would be. She didn’t want that. Having a man touch her soul wouldn’t turn out well. He’d leave her and become indifferent because that’s what men did once they got what they wanted.
She’d been through that with her father, finally being a good girl and great student at Oxford, which got her ignored once more. No fucking way was a guy going to do that to her again.
During the next hours, she was going to be bad—decadent, carnal, wicked bad.
Her step was finally sure as she reached the doors, opening them.
The room, like the rest of the house, was a study in Spartan hues. Black lacquered nightstands flanked either side of the king-sized bed that rested on a slab of gray marble, its headboard in a black-and-white diamond design. White branches stripped of leaves stood in tall aluminum cylinders, providing an artistic view of what a funky forest might look like. Artwork in bold geometric designs hung on the walls. Light poured through the compositions’ triangles and circles, illuminating the space. The peachy glow she’d seen from the street was deceptive, the light tamed by the closed shutters.
In here, it allowed no shadows, nowhere to hide, especially for a woman who would soon be naked and stretched out on the mattress.
David and Tim turned as one, looking at her. As that first night on R Street, they both wore dark suits as though they’d come here from a conference with VIP clients. Unlike that evening, they’d already helped themselves to drinks from the wet bar.
It was on the other side of the room, blocked from her view by the door. As she closed it, Alexa decided to make herself a drink. If ever there was a time she needed one, it was—
Her thoughts paused.
She stared at Hunt. He stood at the wet bar’s black marble counter as if he belonged here even more than his friends.
With a drink in his hand and a smile that turned her heart over, he approached and murmured, “Hi.”
She caught his leather and tobacco scent, the male musk beneath it. Her legs got watery, demanding she sag into him for support. Alexa resisted the urge. Barely. She waited for Tim and David to say something, tell her what in the hell was going on.
They sipped their drinks, looking as though Hunt had everything well under control.
“I believe this is yours,” he said, handing her the champagne flute. “Your favorite, correct?”
Stupidly, she regarded the dark liquid topped with foam. Known as Black Velvet, it was a concoction of Guinness and champagne Alexa had become partial to thanks to her roommate at Oxford.
How had Hunt known that? Where had he gotten the glass? It was hand-painted with blue and white flowers. At Christmas, long before she’d met him, Alexa had admired it in a store display. He couldn’t have been following her then as she’d done with him a few days ago. She would have felt his presence…would have ached for it then as she did now.
“Go on, taste it,” he coaxed, his mouth close to her ear, his breath skimming her cheek. “I do know how to mix a drink.”
His rich voice caressed, holding just the right amount of mischief.
A sense of wonder warred with Alexa’s caution. He wanted her only because she kept refusing him. To Hunt, this was a game he’d never had to play with another woman. To Alexa, it was becoming a lot more and she wasn’t about to fall into that abyss.
Stepping back, she put her drink on a table to the side, regaining her composure and the upper hand in this situation. “You’re not supposed to be here.” She faced him. “You weren’t invited.”
“That’s not true.” He reduced the scant space she’d put between them. Once more, they were close enough to kiss.
The thought made her unsteady, shamelessly weak and warm. She fought it. “I didn’t invite you.”
“We did,” David said.
Tim rolled his eyes as if he didn’t agree but was going along with the program. Why? Had Hunt threatened to beat him up if he hadn’t?
Alexa shivered with excitement and need at the thought, until she remembered to battle her feelings. “That’s not your call to make.”
“Don’t worry.” Hunt leaned toward her, the edge of his jacket brushing her arm, delivering more of his scent.
A riot of sensations barreled through her.
“I’m not participating,” he murmured. “I’m here merely to watch.”
Her palms got damp again. Images flashed in her mind of him reclined in one of the chairs, watching as Tim licked her nipples and David lapped her clit. He’d sit up slightly as Tim mounted her from behind while she sucked David’s cock. Earlier, Hunt would have insisted she face him during the act so she could see his reaction, wanting it to excite her further.
That wasn’t possible. Already, her cunt was heavy with desire, her opening growing wet at the thought of having no one except him within her again.
He whispered, “I want to make certain my friends give you the pleasure you deserve.”
He was here to take control that she couldn’t give up. “What makes you think I’d want that?”
His lips touched her ear. Alexa bit back a moan.
“Pleasure?” he asked.
She swallowed. “You watching.”
He sighed deeply, then moved back. “Tell me you can’t take it, tell me to leave and I will. For good this time. I won’t bother you again.”
His mouth was more beautiful than Alexa recalled, the memories of their kiss in the restaurant and those on R Street making her tense with intolerable desire. She was afraid to want him, terrified of anything beyond her lust. He kept bringing it out, drawing her closer.
Tell him to leave. Be done with it.
These had to be the last moments he was in her life. The subsequent ones would get easier, wouldn’t they? She’d eventually lose her longing, the impulse to move into him, driving her fingers through his hair, pressing her cheek to his, breathing in his fragrance.
Go on, tell him.
He waited, looking as vulnerable as she felt.
Tim cleared his throat. David moved from foot to foot.
Hunt’s expression softened even more.
Aw crap. Alexa made a face and mumbled, “Stay if you want. Watch.” She shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Thank you.”
Her shoulders slumped. What little fight remained vanished at the gentleness of his words.
He leaned down, kissing her cheek, earlobe and throat. She had to keep herself from whimpering. His tenderness was more powerful than any promise he might have made.
When he stepped away, Alexa felt bereft. Nonetheless, she couldn’t give in. Her heart was at stake and a boatload of pain awaited if she allowed
her emotions to guide her. Tonight would be the last time she’d ever see Hunt. If need be, she’d leave the District and would return to Europe. His desire wouldn’t be great enough for him to follow. He’d find another woman, someone to replace her. He wouldn’t think of her again, while she’d have trouble forgetting him.
He leaned against the bar where he had an unrestricted view of the bed. Tim moved closer to it, followed by David.
Alexa remained where she was, taking a sip of her drink, hating herself for loving the flavor, pissed at Hunt for knowing how to mix it. After tonight, she’d never have another Black Velvet, not wanting its flavor to remind her of him.
Returning her flute to the table, she said, “Gentlemen,” then headed for Tim.
He grinned in what appeared to be surprise and a touch of gratitude.
After she was finished with him, he’d be too wrung out to pant, while Hunt would be helpless to stop it. He wanted to watch. Fine. She was going to give him a show.
“Please unzip me,” she purred, turning her back to Tim, lifting her hair with both hands.
Hunt ran his forefinger around the lip of his glass, his full attention on her. He didn’t smile. Nor did he frown. He seemed to be gauging her reaction, no doubt trying to see past her bravado into her soul.
She wanted to look away but wouldn’t allow herself that weakness. The rasp of her zipper sounded too loud. The top of Alexa’s dress slipped away from her body, puddling at her waist.
Hunt continued to hold her gaze.
Heat stung her cheeks. She inhaled sharply at Tim’s hands on her naked breasts, his thumbs flicking her nipples. Excitement coiled within Alexa, her mind removing Tim from the picture, replacing him with Hunt. She imagined him touching her, his cock pressed against her ass, his breath clean and hot, tickling her neck. His desire so great he’d never be distant and uncaring, nor would he leave.
“More,” she whispered, lowering her arms.
“Gladly.” Tim kissed her shoulder.
She recalled Hunt doing the same, feeling his lips on her. She moaned.
The sound broke David’s hesitation. He went to one knee before her, easing Alexa’s dress down her hips and legs. The delicate garment pooled at her feet.
David settled his hands on the insides of her thighs and pushed gently, directing Alexa to part them, to flaunt her full nudity. She did, all while studying Hunt. He wore a neutral expression, but he’d stopped running his forefinger around the rim of his glass. She sensed his muscles tightening, his compulsion growing to order his friends from this room so he alone could fuck her raw.
He said nothing, nor did he move toward her as David licked her cleft, tonguing her nub.
Alexa’s mouth sagged open. Bursts of pleasure raced from her cunt to her ass, belly and thighs. Tim angled his head to direct his kisses up her neck. She caught his woodsy fragrance and David’s lighter scent that bore a hint of lime. The colognes were as different as the men who wore them.
However, their hands had the same purpose, taking command of her body. With decided skill, Tim fondled her breasts, his touch rough, then gentle. David had already cupped her buttocks and now ran his fingers down the separation between her cheeks. Searching for her anus where he’d first taken her?
Yes.
He teased the tight ring with his forefinger even as he lapped her clit.
Alexa pushed to her toes with the newest sensations, wanting them to continue…needing them to stop. Dammit. Satisfaction was hers to take and enjoy, but Hunt’s presence wouldn’t allow it. Her mind and body kept replacing these men with him—her memory of his scent, touch, heat—telling her she didn’t want anyone else.
No.
She was going to let Tim and David mount her in every way they could, making certain Hunt watched so he’d know she wouldn’t be seeing him after this. They were through. They’d never begun.
As though she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, a yearning look crossed his features. The kind a man wears when he’s leaving for an extended period, perhaps never to return.
That desire and sorrow called to Alexa as nothing else had. She bit her lip and pushed Tim’s hands away.
“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Stop,” she ordered David.
He did immediately, looking up.
Alexa’s cheeks were so hot they stung. She edged away from both men until her feet got caught in her dress.
“Watch it,” David said. “You’re going to fall. Let me help.”
“No.” She pulled her dress up and struggled with the zipper, stopping when the damn thing refused to cooperate.”I don’t want to do this. It’s not what you paid for.
“You’ll get your money back,” she said to Tim, then spoke to Hunt. “You weren’t supposed to be here. I didn’t agree to it.”
He left the bar. David and Tim backed away as he approached.
“I told you I’d leave if you asked me to.” Hunt stopped in front of her. “Is that what you want?”
She frowned. “It’s not what the agreement was for.”
“I know that,” he murmured. “Do you want me to leave?”
Yes…no. She turned away.
Hunt rested his hands on her shoulders. It took all of Alexa’s will not to release her weight into his hard body, allowing him take care of her until he decided he didn’t want to do that any longer. How long would that take? A couple of hours? A full day? A week, month, year, decades?
Waiting for the inevitable would kill her. If he wasn’t going to leave, she had to.
He pressed his mouth to her ear, stopping her more easily than if he’d chained her to the bed.
Alexa trembled.
“Give me one night,” Hunt whispered. “You and me.”
She turned her face from his. “That’s not how it works.”
“Things can change.”
“No.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
Yeah, sure. What guy didn’t say that when he wanted something. “I know. I’m not going to see you again. Nor your friends.”
Gently, he squeezed her shoulders. “Just one evening with me, Alexa. I won’t ask for anything more, I promise.”
He’d already asked for too much by simply showing up tonight. “I told you, I don’t do one on one.”
“We won’t be alone.”
What? How was that possible, unless… Alexa jabbed her elbow into his gut. When he straightened and moved back, she turned. “You want a repeat of this.” She gestured to the room, his friends.
“That’s not what I’m saying. We won’t be alone. However, no one’s touching you but me.”
Tim and David lingered near the door, looking as though they didn’t know whether to take off or stay.
“They won’t be there,” Hunt said.
There? He’d already made his plans and an appointment? Surely not with Ronnie’s help. Alexa knew the woman wouldn’t ambush her like this. “Where?” she asked.
“Say yes and you’ll find out next week. Unless you simply don’t want me. Is that it?”
The words begged to be said, but Alexa couldn’t lie that well. She figured he’d know.
“Are you afraid of a good time?” he asked.
She shot him a look. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Guess I was.” He grinned. “I’ll show you the fucking best time of your life.”
Her caution returned. “I didn’t say yes.”
Hunt moved closer, forcing her thighs and belly to touch his unless she stepped back. She opted for the latter. He continued to approach. She kept retreating until the backs of her legs hit the mattress, stopping her.
“Say yes,” he murmured.
She pressed her dress to her breasts. Hunt reached around and pulled up her zipper with more ease than she’d ever managed, as if he’d been born for the task. She wasn’t certain whether to smile or cry.
With his cheek to hers, he said, “What’s the matter? You think I can’t satisfy you?”
He eased back. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Wallace will drive you to the location. Until then…”
He hauled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Possessively. His embrace firm and unyielding yet also protective. Alexa surrendered as she’d never done in the past, slanting her mouth so it fit perfectly against his.
She pressed her palms into his back, drawing him closer.
Hunt drove his fingers through her hair, cupping her head, keeping her from retreat.
They went at each other like rutting animals or lovers caught up in something so new and unique, they couldn’t get enough. For the first time this evening, she gave in, not caring what would happen next, simply relishing the moment.
Too quickly, he finished the kiss.
Alexa slumped against him, panting as hard as he did.
“You okay?” Hunt asked.
No. She was lost and wanting. With a nod, she lied.
“Good. See you in a few days.” He pecked the top of her head, gave her a wink, then led his friends out of the room and the house, leaving her alone to think about what just happened.
What she’d agreed to.
Chapter Eight
He could still smell her fragrance, the hint of Guinness on her breath. His skin tingled, then grew hot as though her warmth was now an integral part of him. His mind returned to their last kiss.
She’d pushed his tongue aside and he’d done the same with hers, both of them trying to claim the other’s mouth. He’d won, of course, and she’d sagged against him as though her bones had gone soft from passion, her will yielding to his as it damn well should because—
“What are you doing?” Tim asked, grabbing Hunt’s arm. “We’re over here.”
He’d gone two vehicles past Tim’s Benz. Pulling free of his friend, Hunt retraced his steps to the car and went around to the passenger side. David climbed into the backseat.
Hunt remained on the walk and turned to the white brick house, staring at the second-floor windows still aglow with light though it was fainter now. Alexa had turned off some of the wall lamps. Why? So she could watch him undetected from a space between the shutters, unable to resist getting one last look at him, as he wanted to do with her?