Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) (13 page)

“It is quite private.” I followed his line of sight.

“Yeah,” Andre said. “Because I think they’d get a shock if they saw this.”

I turned my attention to him.

He was rolling a condom on, his abs were tight and his skin taut over hard muscle.

Tristan stepped up to me, his hard cock level with my face. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking of, a lot?”

I shook my head.

“Your pretty red lips around my dick.” He cupped his hand beneath my chin.

“What? Like this?” I took hold of his hot shaft then formed a large ‘O’ with my mouth. I leaned forward and took him in deep.

“Ah, fuck, yeah like that.”

I stared up at him as his glans hit the back of my throat.

He’d gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes as he stared at me.

I sucked up then slid back down, caressing his heavy balls as I did so.

“Jesus, you’ll make me come again,” he said, holding my chin tighter.

I let him slip from my mouth. It was time we all started coming again. I turned to Andre. He was a vision of male perfection standing before me, ready to fuck. “How do you want me?”

“Every way possible and a few more that haven’t been invented yet.” He smiled.

“Sounds good to me.” I ran my hand over my right breast. My nipple was still hard and pointed.

“But this time, on your hands and knees, hold the end of the sofa, the arm rest.” Andre glanced at Tristan.

Tristan nodded.

A thrill went through me. I hadn’t thought a ménage a trois relationship would include threesome sex but it seemed anything went for these two. Luckily, I now realized, it was exactly what I wanted as well.

I did as Andre had instructed, twisting so I was on my hands and knees, ass in the air and holding the end of the sofa. My breasts hung weightily and the sensation added to my arousal.

“Actually, put one foot on the floor,” Andre said, sweeping his hand over my back, buttock, and onto my right thigh.

Again I did as he’d asked. I stared out of the window, but only for a second because then Tristan stepped in front of me.

His cock was once again, level with my face.

“You have a seriously sexy ass,” Andre said, moving in behind me and running his fingers down the cleft of my buttocks. He stopped over my anus, the tip of his finger exerting a light pressure at the center of my hole.

I jerked a little, the touch unexpected. My breasts swayed.

“It’s okay…” he said, gently. “Not today.”

Not today.

What the hell did that mean?

“Are you ready?” he asked, parting my pussy lips.

“Yes.” I watched as Tristan worked his cock right in front of me, lazily running his hand root to tip.

“Look up at me,” Tristan said. “I want to see your eyes as Andre takes you.”

I strained my neck to look up.

Andre seated the tip of his cock at my wet entrance.

He pushed in.

I blew out a long breath as Andre’s cock stretched my still tender and sensitive pussy. Damn he was big, bigger than Tristan maybe.

“Oh fuck…” I managed shifting forward.

Andre caught my hips and gripped me. “You can take it,” he said.

“Yes…” I could, I knew I could. And I wanted it, damn in this position he felt even more incredible.

“Open your mouth,” Tristan said as he wound his hand into my hair and held my head steady. “Suck me off as Andre fucks you.”

Really. Oh God. These guys are so bad.

I did as Tristan had asked.

He eased his cock into my mouth, not too far, just enough so I could hug him with my tongue.

Andre pulled out then pushed back in. A softer pace than Tristan had used but equally erotic and delicious.

“Oh God, yeah, have you any idea how amazing you are?” Tristan said. “Seeing you like this. Knowing you’re ours. Fuck…” A drip of pre-cum leaked from his tip.

“We’re going to need you to come again,” Andre said.

I kind of nodded but it was hard with a mouthful of dick.

Andre released my right hip and snaked his hand about my waist to my pussy. He pressed over my clit.

I moaned around Tristan’s cock. His hold on my hair tightened.

“I’m not stopping until you come long and hard,” Andre said, “Come baby, come … work with me here.”

His fingertips were wicked on my clit. He was getting the pressure just right and rubbing me in the perfect place.

I bucked back onto his cock and pressed onto his fingers.

Tristan had taken control of his blowjob and was easing in and out of my mouth, fucking me there at the same speed Andre was fucking my pussy.

My orgasm was spinning toward me. I tensed my stomach, gripped the sofa.

The pull on my hair roots sent fizzes of pain and pleasure down my spine. The sensations in my clit and pussy were ready to burst free.

I groaned, a long expulsion of air. I wanted to come so badly. I needed to.

“Yeah, let it go,” Andre said. “I can feel it in you, your pussy is ready to erupt, baby.”

The excitement lacing his tone toppled me over the edge. My climax ripped through me. Andre kept on going, fucking me thoroughly and deeply, his clever fingers not easing up.

I curled my toes, my skin prickled with pleasure.

Tristan sank to the back of my throat. I took him as I dragged in ribbons of air through my nose. My pussy was clenching around Andre. God, it all felt so amazing I didn’t know what sensation to concentrate on.

“Fuck yeah, good girl,” Andre said, releasing my clit.

Once again he gripped my hips. He powered into me, once, twice, three times then came. His groan echoed around my apartment. I knew there’d be bruises on my hips but I didn’t care.

He was pulsing inside me, filling the condom.

“Oh yeah, my turn…” Tristan said.

A thick drip of pre-cum landed on my tongue.

I released the sofa and pushed at his hip. I didn’t want him to come in my mouth.

“Babe…” he said.

I shook my head as best I could considering his hold on my hair.

He pulled out. “What’s up?” Concern crossed his face.

Andre pulled his cock from me. “This way is better for Stella.” He was behind me, his hot chest on my back. “Sit up, sweetie.”

I allowed him to move me into a sitting position on the sofa. He tucked in behind me with his legs on either side of mine and scooped my breasts into his palms.

“Ah yeah … okay…” Tristan said, standing in front of us. “Fucking awesome.”

I was breathing fast, my orgasm still playing havoc with my heartbeat and sending small aftershocks through my pussy.

“So pretty,” Andre said against my ear. “To see your breasts like this. They feel incredible,
you
feel incredible.” He ran his thumbs over my taut nipples. “Everything about you is perfect.”

“Crap, it’s here…” Tristan said.

His hand on his cock was a blur as he masturbated furiously.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Oh fuck…”

His slit expanded and a shot of cum flew onto my cleavage.

“Oh … yeah…”

Another rope of pearly liquid landed next to the first, then another and another, basting my flesh with his warm release.

“Jesus,” he moaned. “Look at that.”

“I’m looking,” Andre said, his chin against my cheek.

“Oh God…” I managed. It was one of the sexiest moments I’d ever experienced. I felt surrounded by them, claimed. I was theirs and they were mine.

I wanted to do it all over again.

And I wanted to know what other sexy plans they had for me.

I wanted it all.

Chapter Twelve

Tristan dropped down onto the sofa next to us. He reached for my hand and kissed my knuckles. “That was intense.”

“Yes.” I smiled and settled my head into the crook of Andre’s neck. Already the cum on my chest was cooling.

Andre released my breasts and ran his hands over my stomach, tickling the tips of his fingers through my pubic hair.

At one time in my life, I would have pulled away from having my abdomen caressed, especially in broad daylight. But not now. Andre and Tristan made me feel so adored and special, their desire for me was a huge boost to my confidence.

Andre nuzzled my ear. “Now what do you want to do?” he asked.

“I think a shower is in order.” I skimmed my fingers over the slickness on my chest.

“Want company?” Tristan asked.

“I don’t think we’d all fit in my small shower cubicle. Nice thought but another time, another place.” I pushed to the edge of the sofa then stood.

Andre ran his hand over my leg.

Tristan let his gaze slide down the length of my body.

“Why don’t you make yourselves at home. Tea, coffee, something stronger?”

“Coffee is good for me,” Tristan said. He stood and touched his lips to the tip of my nose. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t.”

I knew they were watching me as I left the room. I could feel the heat of their gazes, the track of their eyes. I wasn’t complaining, I loved it. I loved it so much I felt like a different person to the one I had been a few hours ago. Now I was a two-man woman, in a good way.

I showered and dressed in the same Capri pants but a different top because the first one was now creased. I brushed my hair and fixed my makeup.

When I went back into the lounge area, both men were dressed and sipping coffee. They sat side by side on the sofa.

Pausing in the doorway, I admired them and had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“Hey,” Andre said, glancing my way. “I made you a coffee.” He pointed at a red mug on the table.

“Thanks.” I picked it up and took a sip.

Tristan looked at his watch. “I have to get going.”

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s my mother’s birthday.”

“Oh…” And he was here, doing this, with me? “I see.”

“I’ve promised to go to out to dinner with her and my sister’s family. It’s only right I show my face occasionally.”

“Of course.”

“But later.” He set down his mug and stood. “How about we all hook up again?”

“That could work for me.” Andre nodded.

“Sure. What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Well I’m flying out to Berlin tomorrow afternoon for a few days, aren’t I, but how about we go dancing?” Tristan shrugged.

“Dancing?” Andre said.

“Yeah.” Tristan smiled. “I get the feeling Stella will be a damn good dancer.”

“I love to dance.” I grinned.

“Great. Shall we meet at The Bracelet Lounge later?”

“Is that near Dover Street Bar?” I asked.

“Yes, a few doors down.”

“It’s a date,” I said.

“And until then.” Andre stood and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “I’ll look after our gorgeous lady.” He kissed the side of my head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I said with a laugh. “I told you that.”

“We just want to take care of you,” Tristan said, stepping up close. He stroked his hand from my cheek, down the column of my neck and over my breast. “Indulge us.”

I stared up at him. With Andre snug behind me and Tristan looming over me, I felt so small and delicate. Their masculinity screamed at me, reminding me of how utterly female I was and how much I craved their yin to my yang.

Tristan dipped his head and kissed me. A lovely hot kiss that tasted of coffee and the sexy flavor I’d come to associate with him.

When he pulled back he glanced at his watch again. “I really have to go.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “But we’ll look forward to seeing you later.”

He pressed his hand on Andre’s shoulder. “Thanks mate.” He looked at me. “If I could choose I’d be with Stella now, for the rest of the day but…”

“You can’t, I understand,” I said.

“I know you do, because you’re a kind and understanding person. But with Andre here I can leave, see my mother and know you’ll be cared for, you’ll be having a nice time. It’s refreshing not to be eaten up with guilt for having too many things in my diary.”

“I guess this is the way it will work,” I said. “Between us.”

“I hope so,” Andre said. “Because it feels so right.”

Andre and I spent the afternoon outdoors. We walked through Hyde Park, bought ice cream and chatted about everything and nothing. He was easy company and it was lovely to see him so relaxed and his smiles coming quick. He was the sort of person I could imagine being good in a crisis, someone I could spend a lot of time with and maybe even fall in love with.

I held onto that thought, not letting it form. It was too soon.

And Tristan, was he someone I could love too? His brisk ways, sharp manner and the quickness with which he moved through life made him somewhat of a whirlwind to be around. But equally that was exciting. Every moment counted.

“Are you looking forward to dancing?” Andre asked as we finished our walk and headed onto Oxford Street.

“Yes. A Saturday night of dancing sounds fun. I’m a little surprised Tristan suggested it though.”

“Why is that?”

“Doesn’t seem like his thing, too … frivolous.”

“Nothing Tristan does is ever frivolous. He puts high intensity and maximum effort into everything.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Andre steered me into a designer fashion shop. “Dancing included.”

“Oh…”

Andre waggled his eyebrows. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Now I’m curious.”

He chuckled. “So what do you think?” He gestured to a rail of dresses. They were a mix of different styles and colors.

“About what?” I asked.

“Which one do you want?”

“Want?” I laughed. “I really shouldn’t buy any more clothes, it was a New Year’s resolution, my wardrobe is chock full.”

He frowned. “I’m not saying
you
should buy any more clothes.”

“So what are we doing in here?” I was struggling to take my attention from a beautiful electric blue dress that had a low top, lacey sleeves and a tulip skirt.

“
I’m
buying you a dress.” He followed my line of sight then plucked the blue dress from the rail.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Of course you can.” He held it up. “And I have a feeling this might be the one.”

I stroked the material, it was silky and smooth. The lace on the arms delicate and pretty. It reminded me of something Audrey Hepburn might wear. I adored it.

“Are you going to try it on?” he asked.

“No, because I’m not buying it.” I laughed.

“I know you’re not. I am.”

“But you sent me flowers, bought me dinner, lunch, a strawberry ice-cream.”

“That’s just standard boyfriend stuff.” He swept his lips over mine. “And besides, it’s a present for me really. I want to see you in it.”

I was swaying. I did like the dress. A lot. “Okay. I’ll try it on.”

“Excellent.” His eyes twinkled with victory.

“Hey, I haven’t said I’ll get it yet.”

“You will.”

“Mmm…” I turned and headed to the changing room.

It was plush with thick red velvet curtains and smelled of Chanel No5.

Within a few minutes I had the dress on. It was stunning. It had vintage charm but the color gave it a modern edge. And it fit me beautifully. Showing off my cleavage and narrow waist and flaring at my hips which I was sometimes overly conscious of.

I stepped out, smoothing the material against my belly.

Andre whistled as he looked me up and down. “Sexy.”

“Do you like it?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

I turned and examined the back in the full-length mirror to my right. With a pair of heeled sandals, it would be perfect, and I went up on my toes to imagine the look.

“We should definitely get it,” Andre said, coming to stand beside me. He offered forward a pair of flesh-colored stilettoes with tiny diamante detail on the strap.

“Oh, they’re nice.”

“Your size?”

I had a look at the base. “Yes.”

“Try them on.”

I did and they fit beautifully. The base was cushioned and soft on the balls of my feet and the effect they had on the overall look, making my legs appear longer, was just right. “I do really like this outfit.” I gave a little sigh.

“Then the decision is made.” He put his hands on my waist and smoothed his thumbs over the dress.

“Are you sure?” I looked down to observe his caress.

“More than sure.” He smiled and pulled me close.

I drew in a sharp breath. There was a definite hardness in his groin. His cock pressed against me. “Well…?” I bit my bottom lip. “But how much is it? And the shoes…?”

“As if that matters.” He released my waist and tapped my ass cheek. “No more arguing. Go take it off so I can get it put through the till.”

I giggled and did as he’d instructed. That was tonight’s outfit sorted, and the fact that it clearly hit the spot for Andre was a bonus.

I peeled myself out of it, re-dressed, then emerged from behind the curtain, holding both the dress and the shoes.

Andre was looking at his phone but slipped it away when he saw me.

“But…” I said, again worrying about him spending money on me.

“No buts.” He gave me a stern look. “And after this we’ll eat, shall we? Then perhaps get a cocktail before we meet up with Tristan.”

“That sounds like a plan. But when will I get ready for a night of dancing?”

“We’ll figure it out.” He took the dress and strode to the till. He slid it across the counter toward the assistant.

“It’s a beautiful Chanel,” the woman said, glancing at Andre, and then me.

“Yes,” he said, “to match the woman who will be wearing it.” He curled his hand around my waist and pulled me close.

A tingle traveled over my entire body. The look on his face, the soft adoration in his eyes. It was enough to make a girl smitten.

“That will be one thousand and fifty pounds please, sir.”

“What?” I gasped, flinging my attention to her. “No, it’s too much.”

“Nonsense, if they had it in three other colors we’d take them too.” Andre touched my cheek and turned me to face him.

“No, Andre.” I shook my head. “It’s too much. Really.”

He set his gaze on me. It was a stern, don’t-say-anything else stare.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “But…?”

“But nothing.” He leaned close and pressed a kiss to my lips. “This dress was made for you.”

I pulled in a deep breath. I wasn’t used to being spoiled this way, or treated to such extravagant gifts.

“If you’re with us,” he whispered. “You get what you want … always. You may as well just accept that, baby. Fighting that fact is futile.”

“I don’t need flamboyant gestures of wealth to want to be with you,” I frowned. “Really, I don’t.”

The softness returned to his eyes. “I know. Believe me, we know.” He stroked my hair. “But it makes me happy to buy this for you. And it will make us both happy to see you in it tonight.”

I glanced at the assistant, wondering if she was listening, but she was fiddling with the till roll and appeared pre-occupied.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Well, in that case … thank you.”

With a fancy Chanel shopping bag in my hand, we headed back onto Oxford Street. Before long we were sitting in a little Spanish restaurant down one of the side roads and enjoying the delicious aromas of tapas. Andre took an urgent phone call—work—while I studied the menu. Everything on it sounded delicious and I opted for meatballs, sizzling chili prawns, olives, chicken wings and their specialty bread that came with herby butter.

“Sorry about that,” he said, tucking his phone away.

“That’s okay.” I sipped my glass of water. “What do you think about these choices?” I pointed out the dishes I had my eye on.

“Excellent.” He nodded. “And I’m starving.”

With the meal finished, we stepped back out onto St. Christopher’s Place which was a hive of activity. Cool, hip Londoners with money hung about, spilling onto the pavements outside the bars. Their chatter and energy filled the air, the sunny weekend had clearly lifted everyone’s spirits.

“Where are we going?” I asked Andre as I slipped my hand through the crook of his arm.