by Lila Dubois
“I feel the same way with you.” His face was serious, sculpted lips pressed together in a thin line. “I feel like…maybe I’ve been waiting for you, for the Trinity Masters.”
Juliette placed her fingers in his. “And maybe we’ve been waiting for you.”
The atmosphere shifted. This was no longer about sleep; it was about the chemistry between them, desire that could no longer be denied.
Franco pulled her to her feet, brushing his hand down her back. Juliette guided them up the stairs, lacing her fingers with his. Her heart beat louder with each step they ascended.
She paused outside the bedroom door. “I need to say something.”
Franco’s heavy-lidded gaze traveled over her. “I want you.”
“I want you, too, but—”
He detangled his fingers from hers, pointedly looking away. “Let me finish. Devon explained that members don’t have serious relationships. I want you, but you aren’t a casual-relationship kind of girl.”
Juliette reached up and stroked his face. He said he wasn’t a gentleman, but he was.
Good thing she didn’t intend to behave like a lady.
“I’m not a girl, Franco. I’m a woman. A woman who knows what she wants and can handle the consequences.”
She kissed him. This wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss; it was a kiss with intent. The intent to seduce, the intent to start something that could only end in sex.
Franco held back for a moment—either surprised or gentlemanly instincts at play—but then he returned the kiss, with interest.
He backed her up against the wall. Juliette hummed her approval as he tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging until she tipped her chin up. He trailed kisses down her jawline to her neck. She hooked one leg around his waist and he accepted her invitation, cupping her ass.
She would have given anything to be dressed in something sexier than leggings and a sweatshirt. Franco’s hands slid under her top, the brush of his fingers on her bare skin making her shiver. She stopped worrying about what she was wearing.
“Bed,” she whispered.
“Where?”
“In the bedroom.”
Franco lifted his head from her neck. “I deserve that. Okay, smartass, where’s the bedroom?”
Juliette suppressed a giggle. Wasn’t there some saying about how laughter ruined sex? She leaned right and turned the doorknob.
“Nice.” Franco cupped her ass with both hands. Juliette wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing his neck as he carried her.
He made it three steps, tripped, and nearly dropped her.
Juliette yelped and managed to reach out and grab the doorframe while simultaneously dropping her feet to the floor. Franco tried to recover from the stumble, failed, and fell onto a pile of clothes on her floor. His glasses came off and skittered away.
Juliette stared at him sprawled on the ground, head and shoulders buried in a pile of clothes that needed to be dry-cleaned. A giggle burst from her lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Stop laughing.” His voice was muffled and he made no attempt to move.
“I’m not laughing,” she lied.
Franco rolled onto his back. His expression was a mix of sheepish and resigned.
“At least this time you didn’t knock me down.”
Franco got to his feet, looking around her room. His brows rose as he took in the piles of clothes and stacks of bins.
“This is what I was going to tell you—my room is a bit of a mess.”
“Do you live out of plastic bins?”
“I don’t really live here.” The interlude hadn’t cooled her desire, only muted it. “But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
Franco must have heard the change in her tone. He looked over in time to see her strip off her sweatshirt. Her bra wasn’t fancy, but based on Franco’s reaction it didn’t matter.
He reached for her but Juliette danced back out of his reach. “Nuh-uh. You next. Take off your shirt.”
Franco stripped off everything above the waist. He had nice pecs and a flat stomach. A line of dark hair trailed from his bellybutton to the waistband of his pants.
Juliette stripped off her socks and Franco mirrored her action, removing his shoes and socks. When she reached for her leggings, he stopped her.
“No, let me.”
He ran one finger up her arm, across her shoulder and then down her sternum. She shivered when his finger slid over her abdomen. When he finally reached for her pants, Juliette had to fight the urge to grab him and force him to move faster.
Franco dropped to his knees then used both hands to slide her leggings and underwear down.
It was shocking and arousing to be exposed before him, especially because his mouth was so close to her sex. She was wet and throbbing, ready for his hands, mouth and cock.
When the fabric pooled around her ankles she kicked it away. Franco ran his hands up the outside of her legs. Cupping her hipbones in his palms, he rubbed his thumbs along the line of her pubic hair.
Juliette tangled her fingers in his hair and gently tugged, asking without words for him to do more, take more.
When he pressed against the inside of her knees, she spread her legs.
“Tell me what you like,” he said. Then his fingers were on her, in her. He stroked the seam of her sex then dipped his thumb in. Juliette gasped, throwing her head back.
His thumb settled on her clit, rubbing in small, hard circles. Arousal shifted from a slow burn to a fiery need, the kind of desire that could not be denied or ignored.
“Put your fingers in me,” she demanded. “Please,” she begged.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you. I want you.” His thumb continued the maddening circles over her clit. The orgasm was building—each moment, each movement, ratcheting it tighter inside her.
“You’re wet; very wet.”
“I need you in me.”
“And I need to be in you. But first I want to see you come.”
Franco slid one finger into her. Juliette’s body clamped down, the pleasure both startling and long-awaited.
“More,” she pleaded.
In response, he pressed a second finger deep inside then removed his thumb from her clit. She was about to protest when he dipped his head down, fastening his mouth over the bundle of nerves. His tongue was at first softer than his fingers, but when he started to flick her clit, the sensations were hard and sharp.
He pulled back to take a deep breath. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
“Either finish me now or get on the bed and fuck me.”
“I’d planned to keep you like this, querida.” His thumb returned to her clit, this time circling. The touch was enough to keep her on edge, but not enough to give her the sweet release she needed. “Take off your bra.” His voice was rich and dark.
Juliette released his hair and stripped off her last piece of clothing. Her nipples were hard. Even the whisper of air from the heating system was enough to have her moaning and licking her lips.
“Touch them.”
Juliette closed her eyes and obeyed. In the darkness behind her lids, the world was full of mellow, rich colors and the warm sound of his voice. She cupped and massaged her breasts before lightly pinching her nipples.
“Harder,” he demanded.
She could feel him watching her, knew from his tone that the sight of her playing with her own breasts was arousing him.
Opening her eyes, she watched him as she pulled hard on her nipples, hard enough that she gasped and moaned. Franco’s gaze went from her breasts to her face and back again. He was dark and intense. Focused. As if she were the only woman in the world.
Devon.
Unbidden, an image of Devon flashed through her mind. He was the only other one who’d looked at her with that level of intensity. The memory of his touch, his expression as he slid into her, the sound of his breath in her ear as he came, flooded her consciousness. R
ather than detract from her current experience the memory enhanced it, notching her desire up another level.
Her legs started to shake. Juliette had to brace her hands on Franco. Guilt lanced through her when she looked down at him—she shouldn’t be thinking about Devon right now.
“Bed.” Franco rolled to his feet and started shucking his pants. Juliette threw the messy covers onto the floor.
Franco’s cock, once free of his pants, was a sight to behold. It was thick and dark, the foreskin already retracted, the head glistening.
She couldn’t help but compare it to Devon’s cock, which was longer and thinner. Guilt once more rolled through her.
Franco climbed on the bed and beckoned her to join him. Juliette pushed him down onto his back then straddled his hips. His cock lay on his belly, so she reached down, gently stroking the head as she tipped it up into position. She rubbed it against her pussy, back and forth through the wet valley of her body, moaning each time it brushed her clit.
Franco took one nipple in each hand, plucking and pulling on the tight pink nubs.
Juliette pressed his cock back until the head was nestled against her entrance. Franco cupped her rib cage, thumbs pressed against the underside of her breasts.
“Juliette.” Her name was a demand and a prayer on his lips.
“Franco.” Sliding her hand out of the way, Juliette lowered her hips.
His cock pressed into her. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, and his cock was thicker than anything she’d ever taken before. She paused, her pussy pulsing around the invader.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just getting used to it.”
His brows drew together. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” To prove it, Juliette sank down another inch. The head of his cock rubbed against her G spot, and Juliette had to briefly close her eyes as pleasure swept through her.
“Juliette, Juliette.” Now Franco’s eyes were closed, too, and she could see the tension in his shoulders and arms.
She sank down all the way, his cock seated fully within her. Taking a few slow breaths, she allowed herself to revel in the moment, to let it imprint on her. There was something magical, almost spiritual about this first moment of being joined with someone.
Rising until only the head of his cock was inside her, Juliette then slammed her hips down. The speed made it a totally different sensation. Her body spasmed around his cock, her pussy squeezing and releasing. Franco hissed out a breath, his fingers pressing into her skin.
With more intent than finesse, he dropped one hand down and wedged his thumb between their groins. As Juliette rocked her hips forward, Franco’s thumb zeroed in on her clit.
The orgasm ripped through her, pleasure bright and sharp like a flash of white light. Her head fell back, her nails dug into Franco’s chest and she screamed in pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” Franco demanded, but she was too lost in the orgasm to pay attention.
He sat up, hugged her to him, and rolled until she was on her back under him. Franco captured her lips in a hot, openmouthed kiss as he kneed her legs farther apart and settled his cock back at the entrance to her sex.
When he thrust in, Juliette jerked her lips from his, letting out another cry of pleasure. She sank her nails into his back, clinging to Franco. Once more the memory of Devon rose in her mind. This time it wasn’t guilt that flooded her, but more desire. Thinking of the man who had until so recently been her fiancé was heightening her pleasure.
“There’s someone missing,” she whispered. She was only vaguely aware of what she was saying
Franco paused. “Someone?”
“Yes.”
“I think—” He started thrusting in earnest, words puffs of air against her shoulder. “I think you’re right.”
Franco changed the angle of his thrust and Juliette yelped in pleasure, nails scoring Franco’s back.
They were so lost in the moment that neither heard the footsteps.
The silence from Juliette was deafening. Devon strode up the few steps to the door of her shared house. He hadn’t heard from her since she’d texted him about meeting with Franco days ago.
He’d reached out to Harrison, but the former Grand Master hadn’t heard from Juliette either. He’d been keeping an eye on her, and knew she was going back and forth from home and the Boston Public Library—the Trinity Masters’ headquarters.
Whatever she was doing when she was there, she was doing it alone. The only person she might have contacted was Sebastian, but Devon hadn’t been able to get ahold of him either.
Devon used a copy of the key he’d had made years ago, which he’d sworn to use only for emergencies.
“Juliette?”
There was no answer. He checked the kitchen first. There were half-empty to-go boxes spread out on the island. At least she was eating.
The spot between his shoulder blades was itching—something was wrong.
Devon checked the living room, shocked by what he saw. There were files everywhere. After a moment of assessing, he realized there weren’t actually that many—thirty in total, if he had to guess—but they were spread out all over the floor.
Stooping, he peered at the nearest one. His heart sank. These were the member files—exactly what he’d been afraid of.
As he straightened, Devon thought he heard something. He paused, but there was no other sound.
Careful not to touch anything, Devon moved through the room, checking the names on each file. He didn’t find either his name or Sebastian’s.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t seen them, didn’t mean that she didn’t know.
A noise again—this time he was sure he’d heard something. Something that sounded a lot like a scream.
Devon’s heart stopped. Juliette.
Racing from the living room, he bounded up the stairs. The sound had come from too far away to have originated on the ground floor. One of the bedroom doors was open.
She cried out again, but this time it wasn’t so much a scream as a moan. Devon’s steps slowed. It sounded like…
Heart heavy, Devon stopped in the doorway.
The bed was in profile to the door, giving him a perfect side-on view of what was happening. Juliette lay on her back, hair spread around her head in a golden halo. As he watched, she arched her back, breasts brushing against Franco’s chest.
He was surprisingly well muscled, his ass flexing as he pumped into Juliette.
Twin urges tore through Devon. He wanted to rip Franco away from Juliette and beat him to a bloody pulp. He also wanted to jump on the bed and join them. He’d never had the opportunity to have a ménage a trois with Juliette, but that was a matter of circumstance, not possessiveness.
Neither noticed him, and as Devon watched, Juliette whispered something to Franco, who bent his head, brushing his lips against Juliette’s cheek as he replied.
That was what broke him—not jealousy of the physical act, but of the emotional connection they clearly shared.
A connection he’d once had, but lost.
“Juliette.” He said her name without thinking. They hadn’t seen him, so the right thing to do would be to walk away.
Franco reacted first. He looked over then froze. “Devon.”
To the other man’s credit, his first reaction was to drop the shoulder closest to the door, shielding Juliette’s nudity with his body.
“Don’t stop,” Juliette moaned.
Devon’s cock twitched in his pants. He knew that voice—that was the Juliette he loved and longed for, the girl who didn’t hide her feelings or reactions. That voice belonged to the girl who danced in the Paris moonlight, not the girl who walked out on him at dawn.
“Uh, Devon’s here. We need to, er, stop or something.”
Juliette pushed on Franco’s shoulder and turned her head. “I know Devon’s here.”
Their gazes met, and Devon had to grab either side of the doorframe to keep himself from ente
ring the room and going to her. Juliette’s eyes were shadowed, the pupils huge. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but he would have sworn that when she looked at him, fresh desire lit her expression.
Franco eased back and knelt, still between Juliette’s splayed thighs. He looked around, muttering, “Need a blanket or something…”
Devon and Juliette maintained eye contact. Devon was waiting for her to tell him to leave. To sneer her derision. She didn’t. It seemed that she, too, was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what.
Franco slid off the bed and picked up a sheet. Juliette rolled on her side, facing Devon.
Franco stopped and looked between them. “This seems like a good time to ask what, exactly, the two of you’s deal is.”
“I lost my virginity to Devon.” Juliette ran her hand over her bare hip.
“Juliette is my fiancée.” Wood creaked under his fingers.
“Your fiancée?” Franco’s eyes widened. “Uh…”
“No, I’m not. Devon was, from the day I was born until last week, my betrothed.”
“Betrothed? I think I’m missing something.”
Devon shook his head. “I can’t, Juliette. I can’t accept that we’re over.”
“The Grand Master has spoken.” Juliette’s hand trailed up her side until she lightly brushed her breast.
Devon wanted to respond, but he was too distracted by her nakedness, by the smell of sex that hung in the air.
“Franco.” Juliette sat up, speaking to the other man while her gaze remained focused on Devon. “Do you remember when I said something was missing?”
Franco’s gaze switched from Juliette to Devon. “You said someone. Someone was missing.”
“And now he’s here.” Juliette shifted to her knees and motioned Franco to join her on the bed. Cautiously, he did, positioning himself behind Juliette.
“Devon, take off your clothes.”
Run. Run like hell because if you don’t, this is just going to make the heartbreak that much worse.
Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, because Devon stepped through the doorway and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Chapter Ten
Franco was tentative at first, hands resting on her hips then rubbing circles over her abdomen as he and Juliette watched Devon undress. She could practically feel his confusion and need to ask questions, but he smartly said nothing. What was between her and Devon was so complicated that truly explaining it would have been a death sentence to the moment they were living in. She wasn’t ready to face reality. She wanted to revel in the arousal and desire that made her brave and reckless.