Can't Get Enough (21 page)

LOVELY RITA

Harper Bliss

S
weat trickled down my temples as I danced for the first time in months. I didn't care if Rita showed up. I boogied myself into a state of indifference I'd been craving for weeks. Pushing my arms above my head, I relished the predatory looks my exposed belly button received. Being declared too monogamous for Rita's standards didn't spoil me for this crowd. Just because I wasn't one for sharing loved ones, didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the thrill of a one-night stand.

A girl dressed in black leather pants and not much else swayed closer to me. I'd been working on my abs tirelessly since Rita left me, and now they were working for me. She pressed her hips into my behind and left them there, finding the rhythm with me. I guess you could call it dancing.

“Want a beer?” she yelled into my ear over the thundering bass.

I spun around to get a good look at her face. Hair tied back in a loose ponytail, some curls springing free. Intense black eyes and no makeup on her face. Zero resemblance to Rita.

“Yes, please.” I shot her a smile. I was out of practice and fairly certain the sexy grin I was aiming for looked more like an insecure smirk, but she nodded and headed for the bar. I exhaled and brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead.

That's when I saw her.

A bundle of platinum-blonde hair. Lips red and full. A smile to die for. That glare that sent my heart racing and clit throbbing.

I gasped for air and scanned for emergency exits. Rita was not alone and I didn't feel like being introduced to her new girlfriend, who, no doubt, would still be so charmed by her she wouldn't mind all the talk of open relationships and the enrichment polyamory can be to one's life. I'm not one to judge—I just wanted Rita all to myself.

“I'm Liz.” Leather pants girl handed me a cold bottle of beer. I wanted to rub it against my cheeks to make my burning blush disappear.

“Ali.” I clinked the neck of my bottle against hers. “Thanks.”

Liz followed my gaze, because, try as I might, I couldn't stop looking at Rita. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, with her big brown eyes and racially ambiguous skin.

“Do you know Rita?” Liz asked. I noticed the sudden twinkle in her eye, and I knew the score. This was a small-town club and Rita had probably taken half of the girls home at some point.

“She's my ex.” It still stung when I said it. “It didn't work out.”

I did try, but my heart had never hurt as much as when Rita had picked out a voluptuous redhead for us to have a threesome with. As if I wasn't enough.

“How long were you together?” Liz couldn't let the subject go. I totally understood.

“Seven months. Broke up three months ago.” My night of
forgetting Rita was not going as planned. Not only was she here, but I was trapped in a conversation with a stranger about her. That was Rita. Ever present and always at the tip of everyone's tongue.

Liz whistled through her teeth. Any attraction I had felt toward her seeped out of me.

Through the crowd, Rita made her way to where I was standing, resulting in a crazy pitter-patter of my heart.

“I've been looking for you,” she said, her voice breathy and low. “Where have you been hiding?” As if she didn't know.

The woman trailing behind her was so pretty it hurt. She had a relaxed hipster way about her. Maybe it allowed her to stand for things I couldn't possibly accept, no matter how much I wanted to keep Rita.

“I take it you've met Liz,” I mumbled, avoiding Rita's question.

“Oh yeah. Good times.” She poked her girlfriend in the ribs and flashed her a knowing smile. “Remember, honey?”

The gorgeous hipster was the honey now.

It wasn't so much anger rushing through me. After all, I could only blame myself for not being more compatible with Rita's ways. It was a big surge of raw lust gripping me at the sight of Rita's neck and her skin the color of brown butter. I had always wanted Rita. From the first second I laid eyes on her until this moment in the club, downgraded to the word
ex
, huddled between her current girlfriend and a lover for one night.

It was madness, still my blood pulsed with desire. Hot pangs of want were speeding through my veins. Heat gathering between my legs already. One look was always all it took.

“Please, meet Anya.” When Rita smiled at Anya it was as if someone reached into my chest and squeezed a cold fist around my heart. I'd never get that smile again. I'd relinquished all
rights to it the day I disagreed with Rita's rules.

“Hey.” Anya waved a long-fingered hand at me. She was a skinny jeans and tank top kind of woman, with long ash-blonde hair falling to her shoulders and subtly painted lips.

“Let's dance.” Rita grabbed Anya's hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. Then she had the audacity to wink at me. My breath hitched in my throat and all I wanted was to drag her away from Anya and take her home. Have her do that thing she did to me. That thing no one else ever did.

Liz and I followed. She seemed as entranced as I was, the twinkle in her eye still present. We slithered our bodies between sweaty arms and backs and I started moving with the rest of them. Whenever I glanced in Rita's direction, which was about 95 percent of the time, her eyes were fixed on me. I knew that look. She knew I did.

No one danced like Rita. The music flowed through her bones and her muscles flexed and relaxed to the beat of its drum. It inhabited her and she was all the more mesmerizing for it. Plus, she kept eyeing me.

I finished the beer Liz bought me in a few long drags and made for the bar to replenish, needing a break from Rita's stare. It was obvious what she was playing at.

Drops of sweat flickered on her bare shoulders when she joined me at the bar. I ordered four beers and thrust one in her hand.

“Thanks,” she said, while letting her finger glide over the back of my hand. “I'm so thirsty.” She tilted her head back, exposing the delicate skin of her neck, and swallowed for what seemed like an eternity. “Anya likes you.”

In a perfect world, I would have been over Rita by then. I tried to look away and ignore her, but the muscles in my neck didn't allow me to—as if they were still as infatuated with her
as the rest of me. Instead, I stared into the brown of her eyes, took in the enormity of her smile and surrendered. I'd never be done with her.

“Do you want to play?” She inched closer. So close I could feel her breath on my cheeks. “Liz is welcome to join as well, of course. She's fun.”

It was her unwavering confidence that always got me. Not a lot of people said no to her, because she acted as if it wasn't even a possibility.

She brought her lips to my ear. “I know what you like.”

I could barely move. She'd whispered me straight into a frenzy of desire. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to regain composure.

“I'd better get these to the others.” I pointed at the bottles of beer on the counter.

She slanted toward me again. “I'll take that as a yes.”

She wasn't too far off.

I weighed my options as if I had any. As if Rita's proposal hadn't erased all other outcomes to my night.

I could go home alone. I could take Liz home. All four of us could go somewhere together. Or I could ditch Liz—one less contender for Rita's attention. None of the possibilities had me alone in a room with Rita, but beggars can't be choosers.

My hands trembled when I brought the bottle to my mouth. My body wasn't giving me a lot of options. Throughout the seven months of our affair it had been reduced to nothing more than a bundle of want. Attraction-wise, no one came close. If she was offering it on a silver platter, I wouldn't say no—even if it meant including Anya. Even if it meant I was the extra for the night.

I found Rita's eyes, bit my lip and nodded. The smile she shot me alone was enough to send me reeling. She arched her eyebrows and tilted her head in Liz's direction, silently questioning
her inclusion. I shook my head. If I was sharing Rita, one other person would do.

Fifteen minutes later, Rita, Anya and I sat huddled together in the backseat of a cab. I felt my blood beat through my veins as Rita's thigh flanked mine. It was only fitting she resided in the middle, like a queen amidst her minions. I wondered if Anya was as much a sucker for Rita's touch as I was. The answer was obvious.

Rita's flat hadn't changed. It was all red mood lighting and shag carpet. A faux fireplace guarded by life-size leopard statues in black marble. In anyone else's home it would have looked tacky.

“Hey.” Rita pounced on me like a wildcat while Anya watched. Was she more of an onlooker? I hoped she was.

Rita's blood-red lips came for me. Her heady perfume hit my nostrils hard, and I inhaled as if my life depended on it. Her nipples poked into my skin through the fabric of our tops, and the prominent display of her arousal flattered me.

“You're in for a treat.” There was that unflinching confidence again. There was no doubt in my mind that she was right. Every second with Rita was a treat.

Her fingers dug into my scalp as she kissed me, and my legs turned to jelly. Her smile shifted from generously broad to mischievously narrow as she pulled her mouth away from mine and glanced at me. She all but licked her lips.

“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and guided me to the bedroom. I had fond memories of Rita's king-size bed, which, from my point of view, was a total waste of space because I always slept glued to her caramel-skinned body. She probably bought it with more advanced sexual activities in mind. It could easily fit three.

Anya followed us and hoisted her top over her head as
soon as we entered the bedroom. All my attention had been so focused on Rita, I hadn't even noticed she'd gone through the night braless. As if it was a practiced routine, Anya inched closer and Rita stepped back.

“Kiss for me.” Rita sat down on the bed, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

Anya's nails scraped over the flesh of my arms. A crooked, full-lipped smile played around her lips. She looked so pale compared to Rita.

She pressed her naked chest into me, rigid nipples stabbing into my breasts, and traced the tip of her tongue along my neck, over my chin, to my mouth. The room was silent except for the agitated coming and going of our breath and the touching of our lips. Rita sat stock-still on the edge of the bed, her eyes on fire and her head tilted sideways.

Despite it not being Rita on the receiving end of my kisses, the fact that she sat watching us was enough of a turn-on. Anya tugged at my T-shirt and I lifted my arms to allow her to take it off. After she one-handedly unclipped my bra, she leaned into me and breathed heavily into my ear.

“We're going to make you come so hard,” she said, and it made me shiver. That was Rita's line. That's how I knew she spoke the truth.

My nipples stiffened into hard peaks as they grazed Anya's porcelain skin. She slid a finger under the waistband of my jeans and flipped the button open. Before coaxing me toward the bed, she lowered the zipper with her other hand, and pushed me down.

I found her eyes and saw the madness, the same madness I'd seen flicker in Rita's gaze so many times. The yearning for this kind of activity. The desire to live with an abandon foreign to me.

From the bottom of the bed, Rita yanked at my jeans until they slid off. Anya removed her own trousers faster than I could blink. She didn't appear to wear any panties either. It figured.

Anya lay down next to me and, while circling one finger around my belly button, allowed me to enjoy the show of Rita undressing herself. The spectacle wasn't in the way she did it, slowly and totally aware of the effect she had on me, but more in how she held my gaze throughout it. The intensity brimming in her eyes left me panting underneath Anya's tickles. Her glance skimming over my bare skin was plenty of incentive for my clit to swell beneath the flimsy fabric of my panties.

As soon as Rita was undressed she hopped on the bed and pressed her body against my side.

“Let me prove to you once and for all”—Rita looked me square in the face—“that three pairs of hands are so much better than two.”

Anya's circling motions traveled up to my chest, while Rita started stroking my inner thighs. She might have had a point.

Their lips found each other over my head and, instead of jealousy, bursts of sweltering lust rushed through me.

Anya, on my left, pinched my nipple hard as Rita, on my right, trailed the top of her finger over the crotch of my panties. They broke their lip-lock to bestow all of their attention on me, and yes, it felt as if I were being fondled by a million hands at the same time. Fingers were everywhere. A frenzy of pecks, lingering tongues and thrilling pinches descended on me.

Rita dragged my panties off me and my swollen pussy lips pulsed for her. Anya let a fingertip skate over my hard nipples while driving her tongue deep into my mouth. Instinctively, I spread my legs for Rita. I was so hot for her, so ready. The club, the cab ride, the little show—rehearsed lines and all—they had put on for me, it was all foreplay and I didn't need any more
gentle coaxing. Juices oozed out of me as my clit throbbed to the quickening beat of my heart.