An Indecent Longing (18 page)

Groaning as she pulled away, the pop of suction releasing as loud as an explosion in the silent room, he found his gaze locked to hers. She waited, watching him. She seemed almost unsure what to do next. Unsure of what he wanted.

Leaning forward, he grabbed her under her arms and lifted her back onto the couch, straddling his thighs. He felt her shiver, though he didn’t think she was cold. Hell, the look in her eyes nearly made him spontaneously combust.

Reaching behind him with one hand, he pulled the shirt over his head, the movement making his rigid shaft brush against her thighs. She sucked in a sharp breath, whether from that contact or from his hands when he cupped her breasts, he wasn’t sure.

He’d begun to lose all higher brain functions and was operating on sensation alone.

Her breasts filled his palms and he leaned down to suck one pretty pink nipple into his mouth, teasing the tip with his teeth before moving on to the other. Her hands gripped his shoulders, sharp fingernails digging into his skin and earning a groan from him. She immediately loosened her grip.

“No. Harder.”

She sucked in a sharp breath then did what he wanted. He rewarded her with a nip at her breast before he moved back to her mouth. He needed her mouth. Needed to kiss her, to taste her while he—

Fuck.

He pulled back, looked her in the eyes.

“We need a condom.”

She swallowed hard and glanced to her side. “I had one tucked in my shorts.”

He couldn’t help it. He smiled. And leaned back in to kiss her.

“Get it.”

Twisting at the waist, she leaned over to reach the floor and he watched each supple movement of her body with awe. Lean muscle with just enough curve to make him salivate.

He kept thinking he wanted to spend hours simply running his hands over her perfect body, but he didn’t know if he’d ever have that much patience. She incited him to rush, to gorge. For a man who hadn’t spent much time indulging in anything as pleasurable as her body in years, Ian thought his heart might explode if he ever allowed himself to spend that kind of time simply petting her.

Holding her tight so she didn’t fall, he pulled her in close enough to kiss. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she returned his kiss with an urgency that made him groan. His tongue sank into her mouth and twined around hers, his lungs working hard and his heart pumping. And his cock throbbed.

As if she’d read his mind, she broke the kiss to lean back, tearing open the foil wrapper and rolling the condom onto his shaft with shaky fingers.

Her hips shifted and she would’ve sank onto him right away if he hadn’t slid one hand between her thighs and ran his fingers through the slick lips of her sex. She froze, her head bent as she watched him play with her.

The moisture coating her labia and now his fingers made him want to lick her but he didn’t want to wait any longer to have her. Instead, he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them while she watched, her eyes growing wider by the second.

When she drew in a breath, it sounded like a gasp and he moved in again to kiss her because he couldn’t not. She moved willingly, eagerly, lifting her body so she could rub her mound against his cock, making him just as slick as she was.

Goddamn, he didn’t want that condom between them. He’d do whatever testing she wanted but soon—

Wrapping one hand around him, she pulled his cock back, fitted the head to her entrance, and slid down on him.

They broke apart to breathe, otherwise they might’ve suffocated. Her head tipped back far enough that he could see her close her eyes as her tongue slipped out to lick her parted lips.

She looked like sensuality personified and he had to fight back the urge to fuck her hard and fast and make her come so damn hard, she passed out.

Instead, he let her sink slowly onto his cock until she completely engulfed him. When she moaned and rolled her hips, making his cock throb, he grabbed her hips and held her still.

Then he held her gaze as he lifted her. Her tight pussy gripped him like a fist, her heat nearly blistering. But he forced himself to set a slow, torturous pace, even though he wanted to rush.

Swallowing hard, she let him lift her almost off his cock then sink back down, every inch of his cock surrounded. She was so wet, she slid easily, the soft sounds of his penetration inflaming his desire even more.

Her fingers sank into the hair at his nape, tugging hard. Which made him smile. She didn’t want to give up too much control, needed to assert herself in some way. That was just fine by him.

They could wrestle for control any day as long as they both won in the end. And he’d make sure they did.

If the look on her face was any indication, she was trying hard not to fall too quickly, which just made him determined for her to come multiple times.

Sliding one hand from her hip, he brushed his thumb over her clit. Once. Twice. Light enough to tease, not hard enough to pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered and her hips jerked, but he held her steady and pulled her down until her labia brushed against his balls.

“Not fair.” She practically panted.

Oh yes, it was. He was going to make her come and he got to feel her grip his cock while she did. Totally fair.

But he didn’t speak, wasn’t sure he could do anything but breathe. And make love to her.

He tweaked her clit harder now, making her grind on him. He responded by grabbing both hips and pulling her up. Her hands tightened in his hair and her mouth pursed in frustration as he kept to this slow thrust and retreat.

A little faster now, his hips began to pump as she slid down, deepening the contact. Every time he sank deep, she moaned. Every time he retreated, she tugged on his hair, demanding more.

After a few more minutes, he couldn’t deny her.

His hands tightened their grip, but she’d begun to move until their bodies crashed together. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she seemed to want him to thrust harder and he didn’t want to deny her anything.

When she finally came, she did so with a cry, wrapping her arms around his neck and smashing their lips together as she rode out her orgasm.

He tried to hold on, hold out, but her tight contractions around his cock sucked him in and triggered his orgasm.

His back bowed and he erupted, holding himself deep inside her, his head in the curve of her neck and his mouth on her collarbone.

And his heart in his throat.

* * * * *

Ben hadn’t been able to sleep so, of course, he heard Dorrie get out of bed and walk down the stairs.

He wondered if she’d stop at Ian’s door. If she’d open it looking for his cousin. Wondered what he’d do if she saw Ben instead…and kept going.

Turns out, he’d continue to lie in bed and listen to her head down the stairs.

Then he’d lie here and try not to listen for any sound coming from downstairs.

That didn’t work out so well because the silence was almost as bad as the eventual sounds of Dorrie’s cries and Ian’s groans.

He felt like a perv for listening and getting turned on but that felt kind of hypocritical considering what they’d done earlier. Instead, he tried not to feel left out.

Yeah, that didn’t work so well, either.

Christ, he couldn’t even leave the house without them seeing him. Or him seeing them. So he lay there and listened until they finally went silent. By that time, he had a hard-on so painful, he thought he might have to go jerk off in Ian’s bathroom.

And that would definitely be pushing his comfort zone.

So he lay there trying not to feel like the odd man out.

Brought it on yourself.

He’d known Dorrie had feelings for Ian. Had known she’d probably gone out with him only to get closer to Ian and yet he’d taken her out anyway.

Fuck.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and headed for his own room. Ian would hear him moving around and figure out where he’d gone when he brought Dorrie back to bed. If he brought Dorrie back to bed. Maybe he’d just keep her down there with him.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Ben needed to get the fuck out of Ian’s bed.

Shaking off the vague sense of anger that nagged at him, he stood and started walking, not stopping until he was in his own space.

Since he wasn’t going to be able to sleep right away, he headed for the shower. Let the cold water pound against his back while he took care of that inconvenient erection then headed back to his room.

Grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge built into the sidewall unit with the TV and his Xbox, he considered playing a little Metroid to chill then decided against it in favor of some internet sleuthing.

Cracking open his laptop and plugging in his earphones, he cranked Slipknot, brought up his search engine, and started to dig. He was no hacker but he’d picked up a few tricks from one of the guys in his unit who had been so at least he had a starting point.

And he had a name. Karel Antonoff.

The man Ian believed responsible for his dad’s death.

Shit.

An hour later, he didn’t have a whole lot more than he’d started with, and if he didn’t stop soon, he’d have a bitch of a headache to go along with that nothing.

For all intents and purposes, Antonoff was legit. He owned several properties, mostly industrial, owned stock in a few legitimate businesses, and had never been convicted of a crime. Been arrested a few times but those charges had never stuck. The last time had been at least fifteen years ago.

Digging a little deeper yielded names of known associates, employees, bodyguards, and the name of his only child, a daughter, Larisa. Pure pampered princess. Long, blonde hair, cool blue eyes, and classic Russian features. He found no picture of her where she wasn’t dressed in designer clothes. Interestingly, there weren’t a lot of pictures of her to be found, and she had no social media accounts.

One photo in particular caught his eye. She’d been at a fund-raiser for the University of Pennsylvania and the photographer had caught her in a candid pose, laughing.

Something about the shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth…

With a sigh, he rubbed his tired eyes and closed the laptop, rotating his stiff neck. He really needed to get some sleep. Maybe now—

Movement at the top of the staircase made his head snap up.

Ian stood there with a sleeping Dorrie in his arms.

Without a word, Ian walked across the room, settled Dorrie in Ben’s bed, and drew the covers over her. Then he walked over to Ben.

“What’d you find?”

His cousin knew him well. “Not much. Why didn’t you put her in your bed? I’ll go down—”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “You get some sleep. I won’t be able to sleep for a while anyway.”

Because sex had keyed him up. Ben’s jaw locked against the urge to say something about that.

Ian sighed, probably correctly reading his mind.

“I don’t know how the fuck this is going to work. I only know I don’t want her to wake up alone, and if she’s in my bed, she probably will.”

“She doesn’t have to. I can—”

“You can be here for her. I can make sure she’s safe.”

Ben knew nothing he said would make Ian change his mind about this. And it wasn’t like Ben didn’t want her in his bed.

“We’re going to need to talk about this.”

Ian nodded. “We will. But it’s not gonna be tonight.”

“And if she doesn’t want to be in my bed?”

Ian shook his head. “Do you think tonight would’ve happened if she didn’t want to be in bed with you?”

“No, but…”

“But what?”

He and Ian turned to find Dorrie staring at them. She looked exhausted but alert, waiting for an answer to her question.

Ben considered evading her question. He could lie to anyone’s face and get away with it. It’d made him a valuable asset to his team.

He didn’t want to lie to her. But if he told what he’d been thinking…

Sighing, he shook his head. “But now isn’t the time to talk about this. Not when we’re all exhausted.”

She stared at him for another few seconds before she nodded. “You’re right. It’s late and I have to be up and ready to play tomorrow. So I’m going to sleep here and you two can fight downstairs or Ben can come to bed and Ian can do…whatever he thinks he needs to be doing.”

Then she turned her head in the opposite direction and sprawled in the middle of his bed.

Ben looked at Ian, who shook his head and sighed.

“I’m going downstairs. I’ll keep an eye on things. Get some sleep. Apparently we’ve got a soccer game to attend in the morning.”

Then Ian left and Ben sat on the chair staring at Dorrie for at least a full minute.

He’d started this. How the hell did he not realize how messy this was going to be? Like, seriously fucked up. And this was the first night.

How the fuck had Adam and Tristan handled setting up their relationship?

Since he didn’t feel like he knew either of the men well enough ask, he’d have to figure out a way to bring up the subject. It wasn’t like he could just come out and say, “Hey, guys. When you decided to start sleeping with the same woman, how’d you decide who slept on which side and what happens when you both want to cuddle her?”

Or, in their case, what happens when you’re both worried about who should be the cuddler?

Christ, was he really trying to figure out who should be doing the cuddling in a relationship that wasn’t even a relationship yet?

He sighed, not bothering to hide it. Then he got up, stripped down to his boxer briefs, and slid beneath the covers.

Fuck it. If they were going to even try to make this work, he needed to be on board all the way. And since he’d been the one to push them into it, then he’d better start figuring out where he fit.

He knew by her deep breathing that she’d already fallen asleep, which brought a smile to his face. She trusted them enough to keep her safe. Or she was just that exhausted. Still, she was relaxed enough with them to be that completely vulnerable.

He could work with that.

Now he just needed to figure out how to get Ian to relax his guard enough to let her in. To trust himself with her.