“Thank God for small favors.” I tilt my head back and let out a boisterous roar. “I will never tire of admiring your body. Never. And what you call lumps and bumps, I call heaven. I love touching, caressing and kissing your soft stomach. If you think the fact that it’s daylight will change that, you’re dead wrong.” I smile. “So no more worrying about your naked body when you’re with us?”
She shakes her head. “Okay. Thank you for saying that.”
“It comes from the heart, love.” I slide my hands down her back and press her body against mine, needing to feel her warmth.
We both stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before she clears her throat. “I’m going to have to get going,” she says apologetically.
“Of course.” I let go of her grudgingly. “Let’s hop into the shower.” I slide my hand into hers.
“You mean together?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I’ve never taken a shower with a man before.”
My jaw drops. “Never?”
“No. Remember, a lot of my past boyfriends were fairly conservative. Sex happened in the bedroom,” she explains.
“Let’s change that, shall we?”
She smiles up at me. “I’m totally game.” We continue our way to my en suite bathroom. “Wow, this room was pretty jaw-dropping last night, but washed with so much light, it’s spectacular,” she exclaims looking around. “I know I said I’d never leave the glass room, but I would totally barricade myself in this little oasis.”
I laugh at her sassiness. “I agree. It’s like having a private spa right in my own home.”
“It is,” she responds with a smile.
My bathroom is modern, stylish and simplistic at the same time. The rectangular bathtub set right underneath the large window is truly the focal point. The contemporary edge plays off the marble floor and tiles perfectly. Although I love that tub, I usually start my day in the separate spacious glass shower. I open the door and invite her in.
I reach for the faucet and play with the temperature until I find what I consider a comfortable setting. “Is the water too hot?” I ask, pulling her hand under the rain showerhead.
“No, it’s perfect.” I place my body so my back shields her from the falling water as she takes a step forward. She gets in and walks backward until her back is pressed against my front. I wrap her in my arms and drop a few kisses on top of her head. “Hmmm,” she purrs. “The way you’re holding me in your strong arms makes me want to stay like this all day.” I wouldn’t be averse to it either.
“It’s self-serving, love.”
“What do you mean?” She turns around in my arms so we’re now facing each other.
“I’ll take any opportunity I can to be this close to you,” I say. She smiles up at me. “And you know what?”
“No, but I’m afraid to ask.” She crinkles her nose.
“Nah. You worry too much. It’s going to bring me pleasure to glide my hands all over your sexy body, washing every beautiful part of you,” I whisper.
“Oh. That’s definitely going to be a new experience for me. Do I get my turn?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely. It’s only fair.” I grin. “I’d gladly shampoo your hair, but I’m afraid it would be wrong for you to smell like my Malin + Goetz peppermint shampoo.”
She laughs. “I’ve never heard of the brand before.”
“All you need to know is that it’s not very feminine.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
“I like the way you smell too much for you to mask it.”
“You keep saying all these sweet things, Ethan.” Her cheeks turn rosy. There’s something so vulnerable about her in this moment. Unable to resist, I lower my head towards her and take her lips. It’s nothing raunchy like last night. It’s soft and gentle. She places her hand against my chest and pushes herself away from me. “I’ve never been kissed like this before,” she confesses, blinking up. “Both you and Xander are incredible kissers.”
“It’s because we’re responding to your passion.”
She swats my arm. “There you go doing it again. How am I ever supposed to respond to that?”
“It’s never tit-for-tat with me—and I can confidently speak on Xander’s behalf. There’s nothing you’re ever going to be able to say that will stop us from expressing admiration for you.” I don’t give her time to overthink what I just said. I lower my head again and lock lips with hers. This time the kiss is much more feverish. She gets up on her toes and drops her hands against my shoulders. I have a sneaky feeling she was reaching for my neck, but I’m too tall. She pulls me closer and returns my kiss with ardor. I respond with ravenous impatience. Oh, fuck. As my cock awakens, I realize we’re heading straight into a reprise of last night—or this morning. As much as I’d love to sling her over my shoulder with her delicious body still dripping with water, walk right back to Xander’s bedroom, wake him up and demand he shoves his cock down her throat, I decide to be good. I break our kiss and gaze silently at her for a few long seconds. I suspect the fire burning in my eyes leaves her speechless. In order to tame my hardening cock and prevent her from being late for work, I change subject. “Perhaps the next time you come over—aka tonight—you might want to bring some toiletries that smells prettier than anything Xander or I have,” I tease. “And a comb, of course.”
“Ah.” Her right hand leaves my shoulder and flies to her mouth. “You want me to come back? Tonight?”
“You sound surprised.”
“To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t want to assume you’d want to see me again.”
If she thinks that little appetizer was enough to sustain me, she’s dead wrong.
How do I put into words my desire to pleasure this woman until she begs us to let her come? It’s not as if there’s any logic behind my obsession with watching her wrap her beautiful lips around my best friend’s generous girth while he fucks her mouth until he spews out his release dripping all over her chin. And if I were to reveal the number of times I’ve imagined myself pounding into her until I can no longer feel my balls, it would get me arrested. That’s the effect she has on me. And that was before we claimed her. Now, I can’t imagine myself going without. By the time we got to dessert, I knew with every fiber of my being we’re heading for an unforgettable night. Even though the anticipation was palpable, I couldn’t even have foreseen how mind-blowing our sex marathon night would be. Why would I spend the evening with my hand fisting my cock, wanking furiously, flashing back to the salacious moments we shared while Xander does the same in his room? It would be absolutely stupid of us when we can fuck her again, and again, and again.
“Did you enjoy our time together?”
“Very much so.”
“Do you want more?”
“I do.”
“Then it’s settled.” I lift the corner of my mouth into a wide smile.
“I guess it is.” She laughs.
“I can pick you up at your place. Text me later today to let me know what time you want me to be there.”
“You got yourself a deal, mister.” She grins.
“Make sure to pack a bag with the clothes you’ll need for work for Thursday.”
“Okay. I won’t forget. I don’t want to be in the same position I find myself in right now.”
I furrow my eyebrows. “Which is?”
“For crying out loud, I’m going back to my place pantiless.” She laughs and I can’t help but join her. “No self-respecting Southern girl would ever dare to go there.”
“Perhaps, but your pussy has been well taken care of. I reckon every single part of you has been touched, adored and worshiped. I think that’s a small price to pay.” I lean down and drop a soft kiss against her lips.
“Er… In more ways than one.” I’m fairly certain she’ll remember us with every step she takes today. “I have a question.”
“I’m all ears.”
“
What if Xander had been up? How would that work? Would all of us take a shower together?”
“Yes, we would. Is that okay with you?”
“I like it when it’s just the two of us like this”—she scoots a little closer to me—“but there’s something so incredibly special when it’s the three of us.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. That said, I should be upfront with you. If it were the three of us, chances are things would have gotten a little dirty. Scratch that. With Xander present, it would have been downright debauched.”
“I’m starting to like dirty. A lot.”
I roar with laughter at her unexpected answer. “God, we’ve created a man-eater.”
“Maybe, but Xander and you get the full benefit of this new, more promiscuous me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Indeed, we do. Turn around, I’m going to soap your back before washing the rest of you. I don’t want us to lose track of time.”
She obeys. “The way the two of you keep pampering me, I might have to beg to move in,” she says, turning her head slightly so our eyes meet. The teasing smile hanging from her lips is flirty, but her words have an impact.
CHAPTER 29
Delilah
Calysta Knight has the whole gallery buzzing with anticipation. After a two-hour meeting, Ashley sends us back to our desks to get cracking. There’s so much to do I barely know where to start. There are two main things we need to focus on—the auction we’ll hold right after Calysta’s exclusive paintings arrive on this side of the pond, and the big gala we’ll host next month.
Ashley announced that she and Mr. Leighton Walcott, the gallery owner, want to welcome the American artist in style. That’s quite exciting, except for the fact that thirty days will come and go in a blink of an eye. You’d think with all of this extra work and the vibe of excitement, I’d be able to focus on my long list of things to do. Not a chance. I spend most of the morning reliving the most toe-curling sexual fantasy of my life. The only thing is, it wasn’t a dream at all. It was all too real. I should know. These two are such big boys, I never thought I would be able to take them in fully, but to my astonishment, I did. As a result, I’ve been walking around like I was born bowlegged all day. They’ve definitely made it impossible for me to forget them.
Even though my body is a wreck, I’ve never been this satisfied or content in my life. Normally, with so few hours of sleep in my system, I’d be guzzling down my sixth cup of coffee of the day, but it’s not the case. I’m so fueled by last night—and this morning—I don’t need my usual dark liquid goodness to energize me. Ethan and Xander are all my body requires. Can you fall for two men after such a short period of time? Are these genuine feelings or is it pure craziness? Would I feel the same had the sex not been this mind-blowing? Those questions have been driving me out of my mind since Ethan kissed me before I slipped out of his car.
Desperate to share this amazing new adventure with someone, I texted Maggie when I ran up to my place to change while Ethan was waiting for me in his car. I told her I needed an urgent Skype chat during my lunch break. With the five-hour time difference, she only texted me back a few minutes ago. Since I knew that might be the case, I purposely asked Gemma to cover me while I take a later lunch. It serves two purposes. One, everyone will be working their tails off to make this thing happen as flawlessly as possible and two, there won’t be nearly as many hungry people lining up at the nearby sandwich shop I particularly like.
At five to one, I open the drawer where I keep my handbag, pull out my phone, grab my headphones, tuck them in the pocket of my skirt, strap my bag over my shoulder and get up. Right on time, Gemma is standing at the doorway ready to replace me. I smile, excited at the prospect of being able to spill my guts to my best friend. Within the next twenty minutes, Maggie and I should be in an animated conversation. I guess I really should say I’ll be doing the talking and she’ll be doing a whole lot of gasping. Everything about the last few hours has been so out of character for me. Maggie has always been the daring one while I, on the other hand, have always navigated through life by treading carefully. Too carefully. I guess Piper was right all along. The reason I thought sticking my head in the dirty oven and scrubbing burnt grime off was better than sex is because I had never met the right lover. Lucky for me. I met two.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” I tell Gemma as she approaches my desk.
“Enjoy.” She smiles back at me.
“I will,” I throw over my shoulder as I head to the door.
I rush down the street and turn the corner at the first left. I walk a few blocks until I hit a quaint little eatery. As I expected, a lot of the action has already died down. I’m able to place my order and get served in a flash. You can never go wrong with a steak sandwich from Bife Steak. Their Liberty Delight is a work of art. They use rump steak that’s marinated in chili, oregano, garlic, onions, and vinegar. Then they elevate the heat by flash-frying that baby. Once it’s cooked to perfection, they pile the meat into a homemade bun with crisp lettuce leaves.
With my sandwich and a can of Coke tucked away at the bottom of the craft bag I’m holding, I head to a nearby park. There are a few people, but it’s quiet enough to prevent me from having an intimate conversation. Obviously I’m not going to shout the news about my threesome, but still I don’t intend on traumatizing any small children today. I find a spot and check the time on my phone. Five more minutes. I decide to have a few bites of my sandwich while I wait for Maggie’s call. Mmmm, this is so freaking insane. It’s juicy and delicious—just like a good steak sandwich should be. I’m chewing animatedly, enjoying every single bite. When the distinctive sound of a Skype call coming in chimes, I quickly wrap my sandwich in the aluminum foil, place it in the bag and grab a few napkins to wipe my hands. I fish for my phone that I had dumped at the bottom of my handbag and pull it out. I expect to see Maggie’s name flash across the screen, but it’s not her. Shit. Mom?
For a few seconds I hesitate. I really want to talk to Maggie, but I can’t pretend that I’m not on Skype since my little green light is on indicating that I am. Since Mom and Dad have been away at their yearly vacation retreat for the past two weeks, I haven’t spoken with my mom that much. Yeah, we’ve been exchanging text messages, but my mom isn’t the savviest when it comes to technology, so some of her text messages end up containing more gibberish than anything else. Auto-correct always stumps her. If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of this. A quick hello will make her happy.
“Hey, Momma.”
“Momma’s missed you so much, sweet pea,” she squeals on the other end.
“Momma, don’t call me that. You know I don’t like it. I’m not five anymore,” I rebuff.
“Honey, I know you’re not a child. But you’ve got to remember, you’ll always be my baby.”
There are a lot of good things about being the last-born. You usually end up with a lot more attention than your siblings who were born in the middle of the hierarchy. Of course, the firstborn will always be the king or queen, but the fact that no one else comes after you allows you to distinguish yourself from the rest of the pack. You can get away with a whole lot more since your parents have seen it all before you. You get to benefit from the experience of your older siblings when it comes to life, dating and the trauma associated with getting to know the other sex. On the downside, you’re stuck with that “baby” label for the rest of your life. It’s as if your parents never allow you to grow up. My brother Connor held that position in our family until I came along.
“How was Outer Banks?” I change subject.
“Oh, before I answer that, am I catching you at a bad time?”
“I’m on my lunch break. I’m sitting outside in a park not too far from the gallery. I was supposed to talk to Maggie, but it’s okay. We can connect later.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Let me send her a quick text message to let her know I’m talking to you. I’ll Skype you right back, Momma.�
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“That sounds good, honey. Send Maggie my best.”
“I will.” I hang up, quickly send my cousin a one-liner and call my mom back. “All right, I’m all yours,” I cheer when she picks up.
“Well, that was fast.”
“I don’t have that much time since I’m on lunch. I just didn’t want Maggie to get all worried when I didn’t pick up her call since we were set to talk right now. You were saying?”
“I’m so sorry about butting into your time with your cousin.” Momma sounds so apologetic.
“Maggie and I will reconnect. Don’t you worry about it.”
“Okay, then. To answer your question, the vacation at the Outer Banks was wonderful, as usual. It keeps me grounded every time I come back.”
“You love it there.”
“I really do, honey. I know there are more luxurious places to vacation in our magnificent nation, but that place holds our history in a way since it’s seen all of you grow up.”
Outer Banks are barrier islands off the coast of North Carolina. Since flying to another country with six kids for summer vacations is nearly impossible unless you’re made of money, my parents used to pack us all at the back of my dad’s minivan and we’d drive the few hours north-east so we could enjoy the beach and the sun for two blissful weeks. My brothers and I used to play under the sun for so many hours we’d end up with a serious tan. Some years, we would go with Maggie’s family, but most often they’d end up doing their own thing. Over the years, Outer Banks has become like a pilgrimage for my family.
“How’s Daddy?”
“You know how your father is after Outer Banks. He’s a new man.”
“I can just imagine. There’s something about that place. The second he parks his car, he turns into a beach bum. He refuses to get out of that lounge chair he’s parked himself in until he’s starving for food or unless he desperately needs to use the washroom. It’s the polar opposite of the type of person he is back home.” I laugh.
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