Enticement

by Madelynn Ellis

  “Oh, god!”

  “We have to do that soon.”

  “Are you trying to make a bleedin’ date with me?”

  “I’ll let you know a time. I guess we know the place.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Oh, yes. Just imagine it, Ross. Your cock swelling against my arse. Going in deep. I’m pretty tight back there and hot. And you needn’t worry about Evie, ’cause she can be right there with us, engaging that voyeuristic streak of hers.”

  “Uh!” Whatever Ross was trying to say lapsed into a serious of indecipherable grunts.

  “Are you going to come for me, Ross? I need you to come for me.”

  Already there, Ross gave an orgasmic “huh” and a series of airless gulps as his cock gave up its load. Kit talked him through it, staying with him, embracing him with words and endearments until he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from his friend. A loud clatter spoiled the concluding moment of post-orgasmic closeness.

  “Sorry, I dropped the phone,” said Ross. “Hell, Kit, I’d better go. I need to get cleaned up. My next appointment is in forty seconds.”

  Kit nodded at the phone. Despite the clipped manner of Ross’s voice, he could hear the desire still rattling around in his chest.

  “We’ll talk about stuff when I get home,” said Ross.

  “I can talk real dirty.”

  “I know. Do I ever know.”

  Kit let the phone fall from his hand, and it dropped onto the carpet. Despite the fact that his cock still lay hard in his hand, he gave a contented stretch, hands spread over the cushions with his fingers splayed. Save it, he thought, looking down at his cock, which lay flat against his belly in a small puddle of precome. A bit more self-denial would keep him stoked until Ross got his arse home. Shit! Maybe the guy would be peeling him off the ceiling after a single touch by then. His nerves were certainly pulled taut enough to strum, and his cock was just begging for a kiss or two, or better still Ross’s solid male palm wrapped around it.

  Of course, there remained the issue of Evie too.

  Game plan loosely in place, and having tucked his stiffy back in his pants, Kit wandered back through to the kitchen. He made a cup of tea and swallowed it while it was still scalding, before heading back outside to contend with the remaining snow on the driveway. Only, there were four large sacks of newly delivered coal sat in the way.

  “I guess I’ll be shifting them first,” he said to the back-end of the coalman’s truck. “Gee thanks, mate.”

  Sodding coal fires! Great for a seduction, bugger all good for anything else besides making a mess. The fuck with that! He was installing state of the art central heating and a clean burning, real-flame gas fire in Rose Cottage. And he intended to crank up the thermostat every time Ross or Evie came round.

  It really was time they upped the stakes.

  Evie got home at half past five to find Kit out on the driveway splitting logs with an axe. She parked on the roadside and hung back near the gateway to watch him. He’d thrown his jacket over the top of the wheelie bin so that he had on only a black, long-sleeved T-shirt. Two oriental dragons entwined the sleeves and faced each other across his chest, mouths open, forked tongues flicking forth with intent. The shirt lifted every time he raised his arms, displaying a good five inches of his ripped torso, flesh she’d felt beneath her fingertips only a short time ago, and based on the liquefying action it had on her cunt, skin she longed to feel again.

  Her anger had subsided a little since they’d parted, largely because the planning meeting for Melton Manor had turned to the subject of a slave auction, and since she had no intention of letting anyone get their hands on Ross, Kit was her prime candidate for volunteering his services.

  “Frightened I bite?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and prompting her to shuffle forward up the driveway to prove she wasn’t.

  “I know you bite. You told me so.”

  “Actually, I said I like being bitten.”

  She noticed he had gloves on, leather ones with the fingertips cut off, and his hand sat in a disconcertingly comfortable manner around the axe haft. He’d probably spent a good portion of his former life in Kirkley cutting firewood, if that swing of his was anything to go by.

  Kit brought the weapon down hard on another unfortunate log and the splintered pieces shot off his improvised breezeblock stand in three different directions.

  Another pace closer—she couldn’t help it. It felt as though something was dragging her. When she tried to blindside herself with visions of Ross’s imminent arrival, she found she couldn’t actually form his image properly in her head. Instead, her gaze just kept swaying between Kit’s tight arse and his wiry shoulders. Maybe it’d be better if they properly smoothed things out between them before they had to face Ross, and got their story straight, so to speak. She didn’t want to start the weekend with a row, but how did you tell your boyfriend you’d snogged—actually, considerably more than snogged—his best mate without causing a cosmic outburst?

  “What happened earlier can’t happen again,” she told Kit.

  No amount of deciphering could translate the look she got in return. “I heard you spoke to Ross.”

  “So what if I did?” She circled around behind him, and Kit’s gaze followed her the whole route. Even when she stopped before the coalhouse door his gaze remained unblinkingly fastened upon her.

  “Feeling guilty?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Evie pursed her lips together and defensively folded her arms. That look of his was deep as the ocean and as sweet as sin. Worse, this close to him she could tell he’d worked up a sweat. The scent of it, musky and male, shot with a harsh dash of testosterone wrenched at her insides. She wanted to sink into that smell and get herself all coated in it. Maybe even shove her nose right into his armpit and take a good sniff. She pictured the scene, but with her tongue darting out to lick the salt from his skin too.

  Kit gave a humourless chuckle. “Hey now, guilt’s my middle name. Don’tcha know anything?”

  “I know you’re bad, Mr. Christopher ‘Guilty’ Skye.”

  He smacked down the axe and left it sticking out of the newest log. “You’d better believe it.”

  Left without an escape route, as it was still several meters to the back doorstep, and he could move a darn sight faster than she could, Evie took an expectant gulp. However, instead of grabbing her, Kit stretched past her and tugged open the coalhouse door. “Delivery came, if you’re interested. Four sacks. I take it that’s right?”

  “Four?” She glanced at the interior and at his nod, wandered inside. Sure enough there were four new sacks lined up against the wall along with the three that were already there. “Goddamnit! I told him to drop it down to two the last time he came. We’ll never use all that.”

  The coalhouse door closed behind her, blown by the wind, leaving the tiny store in semi-darkness. Only a small amount of gloomy light filtered through the soot-filmed window. Evie swung round to push open the door again, only to find her palm in contact with Kit’s chest.

  “Hey now,” he said when she jerked away. “I didn’t realize my efforts sucked that much.”

  She could only see him as a silhouette against the door, all that black clothing and black hair blended in, but she understood the slow shake of his head. There was no escaping, leastways not until he’d said whatever it was he wanted to say.

  “It shouldn’t have happened. More than that, it can’t happen again,” she said. “Forget about it.”

  Kit smacked his lips together. “I can’t do that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Evie shuffled up against the amassed store of coal as Kit took a pace towards her. His hand snaked out and brushed lightly over the gentle waves of her hair. “There are things you don’t understand.” His voice took on a low, husky tone, a pitch that made her heartstrings vibrate and threatened to completely undo her. But there was too much at stake here to give in to such a tawdry feeling as lust
. For god’s sake, it wasn’t as if he cared about her, he just knew how to work women to get what he wanted.

  “You’re playing havoc with my relationship. I don’t want to lose Ross. I love him. This is too much stupid risk. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea. I should have thought before flirting, but it’s going no further.”

  He gave a huff of disbelief. “Do you expect me to just back off?” He clasped her shoulders and stroked his thumbs back and forth over her collarbones. “This isn’t as simple as not acting on attraction. Evie—us being together doesn’t have to impact badly on Ross. I’ve told you, things have been unusual between us in the past.”

  “Fucking some girl together in a tent eight years ago doesn’t make this right, Kit. Don’t you think he’s going to feel betrayed? You’re his best mate. I’m his girlfriend.”

  “That wasn’t what I was talking about.” Kit’s thumb nicked the underside of her chin. He stood close enough to her now that she could see the dark glint of his pupils and just about make out the even contours of his face. “Evie, Ross isn’t going to get hurt. Not by us being together at any rate. The parameters of what we both consider permissible are different to what other people accept.”

  “I don’t know, Kit. You’re still talking about years ago.”

  “No—I’m talking about right now.” His thumb slid across her parted lips.

  Damn! It was hard to think clearly when he touched her like that, and the enveloping darkness concealed so much. Evie’s breathing hastened, her chest rising and falling with the urgency of her desire for his touch, and just to make it worse, something about the wrongness of them being together like this, made everything tingle all the more—her nose, her limbs, her nipples…and lower, the same prickle tormented her clit.

  What if it were true, what if Ross truly wouldn’t mind? He certainly hadn’t batted an eyelid over her seeing his mate buck-naked, and he’d kind of involved Kit in their sex life that first night when he let Kit stand and watch.

  Surely, Ross realized that she’d been reliving that scene over and over, replaying it with different endings. Maybe, he’d been doing the same. Maybe all this was building towards Ross asking her if Kit could join them.

  “Evie,” Kit whispered again.

  The sound of his voice reminded her of the sweet taste of his kisses. Fact was, she wanted him, plain and simple. She longed to feel the warmth of his body again, his length and hardness in her hand, as it had been earlier out upon the hillside, when he’d rubbed her towards bliss. Even now, her body hadn’t forgotten the explosion. How could it? He’d made her feel so high, she’d virtually been floating. There were few enough men in her life who’d made her feel good, let alone afforded her that much pleasure for so little short term reward.

  She’d phoned Ross out of guilt and then sat through the meeting at Melton, flushed and aroused, desperately craving Kit’s touch again. When they’d paused for a break, she’d slipped away and frigged herself to orgasm in the store cupboard among the buckets and brooms, her supporting hand wrapped around the haft of the decrepit carpet sweeper for support.

  “It’s okay,” Kit soothed. “It’s okay. I swear it. You’ll see.” His lips touched hers, simultaneously blotting out reality and flooding her body with hot expectation. “Trust me. It’s not going to be a problem.”

  With that, his softness departed. Kit’s mouth crushed hers, his teeth bruising her lip. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she opened to him, letting him delve and tease until her senses were alight and she clung to his form. Kit kissed her with every inch of his body, not just his lips. His hips swayed against hers, his fingertips caressed her throat, the lengths of her arms, and her bottom. He took charge, but without forcing his will upon her. Kissing Kit reminded her of dancing, sometimes subtle, others raucous, but always in time with the beat.

  His kiss changed everything and nothing.

  “Kit, I can’t do this,” she protested as his tongue-tip dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat.

  “Part your legs a bit,” he said in response as if she’d said, “Fuck me now,” instead of a pathetic attempt at “stop”.

  His hand snaked across her thigh and pushed between her parted legs. His mouth covered hers again, if indeed they’d ever really parted. Evie hissed in her next breath as his fingers inched inside her underwear and made contact with her clit. He rubbed and she sagged against him for the second time that day, her knees once more ready to buckle.

  Evie clung to the thick leather belt around his waist as she rode his hand. Two fingers slid inside her, while his thumb circled. It felt so good, so perfect. She couldn’t seem to stop herself, no matter how many bad images ran through her head.

  There was no fighting the chemistry.

  She dropped to her knees, startling a gasp from Kit’s throat. On her knees, she unfastened his belt and drew down the zip of his trousers, leaving her with just a pair of skimpy black briefs to tease away from his skin.

  She’d seen him before. Knew he didn’t have a speck of hair down below, but was shaved bare instead, all silky smooth and exposed. Evie traced her fingers over the smooth expanse of skin, before wrapping her palm around his cock and angling him down towards her mouth. The taste of him, musky and slightly tart upon her tongue pushed her libido higher. Leisurely, he fucked her mouth, his strong hands mussing her hair. Evie sucked, frantic with fear and desire. Ross was due home. Any minute they’d hear the thrum of the car engine turning into the frost covered drive. Still, she couldn’t back away. She couldn’t let go.

  Scared, she pushed against Kit’s hips, forcing him up against the door and launched herself backwards away from him, only to land in an ungainly heap on top of the sacks of coal.

  Her vision having finally adjusted to the dark, she could now make out Kit’s expression—shocked, aroused and angry. He held back a moment, breathing raggedly, his lips pursed and his eyes hooded, before launching himself towards her.

  “No, you have to let me go.” The words formed a thick lump in her throat, before gushing free.

  “I’m not stopping you.” He took a pace to the side so that she had free passage to the door, but Evie never made it off the sacks.

  Kit stood with his back pressed to the stonework, his trousers hugging his narrow hips, with the fly undone so he was displayed in all his masculine glory. His cock stood erect, virtually flat against his muscular stomach, and he’d wrapped his fist around the length. “I bet you’d like to watch us both doing this… maybe sat side-by-side?”

  Foxed, she gaped at him, unable to deny the lust that wound tight around her body and threatened to consume her. Kit’s hand action that first night was what had started all this off. She deeply regretted not sticking around to watch him toss himself off. Now, her gaze fastened upon the motion of his fingers around his shaft, and the way his thumb playfully brushed the tip.

  Suddenly, his hands stopped moving.

  Kit raised his brows. “Wanking’s a solitary pleasure,” he said with a grin. “It’s not what I do when I’ve a willing woman to hand.”

  “I’m not willing, and you offered before.”

  He squeezed his pursed lips between his forefinger and thumb at her statement, and then smacked his lips. “That was different. I owed you. We’ve already settled that score.”

  Evie leaned towards him. “Are you saying you only masturbate if you’re bound by obligation?”

  “I’m saying,” he said as he stretched towards her, “that I’d much rather entertain you with it properly, than just show you the warm-up act.” His hands landed either side of her body among the coals.

  “Have you had women pay you to do it?”

  His soul dark eyes turned blacker than the coal.

  “How much?”

  Kit nervously licked his lips. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not ever paying me.”

  The thought hadn’t actually occurred to her.

  “If you really want to see me toss myself that much, come to my roo
m tonight, because I can guarantee that’s what I’ll be doing, considering what I have to listen to most evenings. Right now, though, we’re doing something else.”

  He grabbed her wrists and pressed her down into the Hessian sacking. Evie wriggled, not really feeling the discomfort of the lumpy coal beneath her, only the pleasant ache caused by his loins pressing against the tops of her thighs.

  “Let go.”

  “No, not until you admit you want it every bit as much as I do.”

  “I dreamt you did this,” she blurted. The admission burned all the way up her throat. “You held me down on the bed while Ross slept beside us.”

  Kit’s eyes subtly narrowed. “I can do that.”

  “No!”

  “No—really, or no—yes, please?”

  “No.”

  “When did you dream it? The first night? I thought of you too, while I was stuck in that unfeasibly narrow guest bed of yours, all about how good you looked astride Ross’s lap and how I really wanted to take what he’d been offering me.”

  Evie groaned, as Kit moved over her, and pressed kiss after exquisite little kiss, after sharp little bite to her neck and chin.

  “Come to me tonight, Evie. I want to make love to you while I can still smell his scent on your skin. I want to make love to you knowing he’s just spent himself inside you.”

  Her breath forced its way from her chest as a gasp. What he was saying ought to revolt her. Instead, it was turning her on. She’d never been with two men in the same month before, let alone while the sweat of one encounter still lay fresh upon her skin.

  Kit clasped both wrists in one of his large hands and used his other to shove up her top and bra. Her breasts spilled heavily, the nipples pointedly erect. “I love that you’re so responsive.” He blew across the steepled peak, prompting a groan. Then he yanked down her trousers and panties. He ran his fingers through her curls and dabbed them into the slick wet heat of her cunt. Finally, he pressed his cock where his fingers had explored so that he coated himself in her arousal.