Enticement (15 page)

Chapter Nine

Evie strung out her shower for as long as possible, letting the water cascade over her shoulders and wash away all traces of Kit’s scent upon her skin. Then, huddled in a bath sheet and dressing gown, she spent another forty minutes filing and painting her toenails, and smothering every inch of her skin in coconut body butter. In the end, there was no trace of male pheromones anywhere upon her and precious little of her own scent. Instead, she wafted into the living room in a cloud of honey and vanilla, smelling rather like an exotic fruit.

Confessions were best made properly armed, and the sweet fragrance gave her confidence.

It still surprised her that Ross hadn’t been upstairs to seek her out. Expecting a confrontation, Evie ironed out the creases in her brow as best she could and tried to look repentant, not that either of the two men hunched upon the sofa noticed.

Having pulled the sofa away from its normal position below the window, they’d aligned it, bachelor style, right across the centre of the living room, facing the TV. A metal soundtrack blared from the surround sound speakers, while onscreen an extremely busty blonde was pounding it out with some sort of ninja wraith.

Ross turned from the screen and gave her a friendly grin. Evie inwardly winced at the warmth and love evident in his gaze.

“K.O.,” announced the onscreen commentator.

“Yes,” snarled Kit.

Ross swapped the Playstation controller to his off hand and extended his right towards her. “Coming to join us?”

Guilt further chewed at her insides as Evie perched beside him. Even as a child, deceit had never come easy to her. She still remembered with vivid horror the time, aged seven, when she’d taken the chocolate bar from her dad’s bait box without asking. “Can we talk?” she asked.

Ross squeezed her around the middle and rested his head in the crook of her shoulder. “In a bit.”

Maybe she ought to admit the infidelity now, while Kit was present and they could all say their bits, assuming it didn’t immediately devolve into a god awful row. Who knew if Kit’s version of reality bore any relation to the truth, or whether Ross would see it as an ultimate betrayal on the part of both of them. No, best she waited and lured him away from Kit first. Kit, who made her blood boil, sitting there without a care for the trouble he’d caused. Interestingly, the shadowy line of stubble that covered his jaw suited him. It made him look less metrosexual and more testosterone-infused hunk, an image only exacerbated by his mussed up hair and activity-creased clothes. He had his legs folded up in front of him and the controller perched on top of his knees. His bare toes curled around the edge of the sofa cushion. Actually, both of them were barefoot, and sitting curiously close. Ross hadn’t had to shuffle up to make space for her.

Clearly, they were at peace, which begged the question of whether Ross had cottoned on to what had been going on in the coal shed.

“What’s the full on pamper in aid of?” Ross asked, pulling her thoughts back from the fit of speculation.

“Nothing.”

He took a good look at her face. “I might get jealous if you keep dressing up for him.” His gaze slid towards Kit then back to her and grinned.

“I’m not…I didn’t!”

“Sure about that?”

“Ross?” God, did he know? Had Kit said something? Was he genuinely okay with it? Did that mean the offer of a threesome was real too? The fact that he slipped his arm around her waist, and under her top, seemed to suggest it was.

Ever so slowly, Ross’s palm moved up her body, until his fingertips knotted under the wire of her bra, and lifted it away from her ribs. Evie hardly dared breathe. The possibility that this was some sort of test kept tumbling around her brain in an endless cycle. Fact was, Evie hated being overheard having sex, let alone being watched. She’d never been the sort to play embarrassing lip hockey, even in a room full of mates. He’d seen her freak the previous time he’d got frisky with her with Kit as an audience.

Unnerved, she bit her lip, while Ross, whose hand now cupped her whole right breast, captured the nipple between his index finger and thumb.

Having abandoned all pretence of playing the video game, Kit’s gaze lay fastened upon her, his coal-dark eyes merrily glinting. Desire churned in her stomach, and shot poisonous arrows down towards her cunt. Could she sit here and let Ross make love to her with Kit watching? What if he actually joined in and touched her? The mere thought of it sent another spear of arousal through her innards. Hell, what if Ross realized how much the notion turned her on and got jealous? What would happen to their relationship then? Were a few moments of fun worth the risk of making that discovery?

They weren’t. She knew it in her heart, and for once her head was actually in agreement.

Uneasily, she tried to squirm free of Ross’s grasp.

He wasn’t having it. He surprised her by straddling her lap and ripping her top up over her head.

Goosebumps peppered Evie’s skin. Kit put down his game controller and turned sideways on the sofa. He slowly wetted his upper lip as his gaze fixed upon her breasts. Fire streamed into Evie’s cheeks. She longed for the audacity to stick her hand in the air and stop this long enough to ask what the hell was going on.

Ross leaned closer, sandwiching their loins together. Like Kit, he bore the faint shadow of stubble around his jaw, only his whiskers were the pale golden brown of malt whisky in a glass. Deep down he had the same sort of burn too. I know what you’ve been up to and you’re a bad, bad, girl, said his eyes. But did he really know?

Evie allowed herself to wallow in their azure depths a moment, pretending Kit didn’t exist, but considering he had the sort of presence that made you sit up and pay attention, she couldn’t maintain the ruse for long.

“Now the bra.” Ross made minimum effort of the catch. He drew the shell-pink silk down her arms and then threw it over the sofa back. Evie clamped her folded arms across her breasts, the large nipples of which were puckered up tight. “Aw, Eve. Don’t go hiding ’em from me. You know how much I like to feast upon them.” In two easy actions, Ross had uncrossed her arms, and sucked one dark pink peak into his mouth.

A groan erupted from her throat.

Ross roughly crushed her other breast within his palm. Then his hands were moulding both breasts and his lips were tight to her ear. “Don’t look at him,” he whispered.

This of course, made her stare directly at Kit, and once trapped, there was no helping herself. There was just something about his make up—the sooty lashes that framed those dark eyes, the curve of his cheekbones, and that overindulgent pout, that held her completely captive.

Oh, God, please make this happen.

She could hear the harsh rasp of Kit’s breathing, an only marginally less steamy purr than the one that currently rumbled in Ross’s throat.

Please, God—she closed her eyes tight—please!

The sofa springs squeaked as Kit shifted his weight, in order to edge a fraction closer to the necking couple. He’d seen the confusion in Evie’s eyes, mixed up with her blatant desire for what she imagined was happening. Kit wasn’t so sure that Ross had the same thing in mind. His lover’s jaw was locked so tight his chin jutted out.

Kit didn’t crowd the pair, but he settled close enough to feel the heat radiating off them and to smell the heady musk of their bodies replace the sweet scent of Evie’s pamper products.

Evie looked terrific post-coalhouse tryst and invigorating shower. Good enough to eat. He wanted to lick her like he would an ice-cream. Her skin had a slight shimmer to it, giving it a golden glow that added a more tactile quality to her soft curves. Her breasts especially, he wanted to touch. Two nipples, two men… But, it still wasn’t happening tonight, not unless he’d completely forgotten how to read Ross. Still, he admired the sight of her. Kit liked that she was shapely and rounded, all soft curves, a real exemplification of pagan sexiness. Androgyny, in either sex, had never appealed to him. He liked opposites, soft femininity in women and hard brawn in men.

Already braced for rejection, he stretched his hand towards Ross’s back. For several blissful seconds he enjoyed the feel of Ross’s muscles working under the skin, as he pressed his palm flat to the bare band of flesh visible below the hem of Ross’s decrepit jumper, then the rejection came. Even expected, it jarred. There were no words, Ross didn’t even turn. He simple lifted Kit’s hand from where it rested and laid it upon the sofa cushion instead.

If a more eloquent way of saying “no” existed, Kit had yet to experience it. He didn’t wait for a verbal reiteration, knowing it would only chafe an already open wound. Ross understood that he wanted to be part of their relationship, not a bleedin’ voyeur. Fuck that! If Ross thought that he was going to sit here like a good boy and watch, he was sadly mistaken.

Hoping to prompt a reaction, Kit scooped Mimmy from her basket and left the room. He sat on the stairs, nursing the squirming kitten and an outrageous hard-on.

How mental was this? Still he held off from charging back in and making demands. He wanted this to work, which called for the softly-softly approach to certain aspects of it, anyway. They’d made it over several hurdles today; best he didn’t risk another quite yet.

He noticed they’d begun talking the moment he left. The two voices tumbled over one another in what he presumed were strings of adjectives and excuses. He didn’t want them to admit to what was going on to one another yet. Too much remained at stake. He wasn’t convinced Evie was ready to entertain the idea of an intimate relationship between himself and Ross. When he’d hinted at it, she’d exhibited classic signs of denial. So far, her concept of a threesome consisted of a whole lot of male attention lavished upon her, and no straying into gay. They needed to address that, really needed to, because he had no intention of keeping his hands off Ross, as he loved the sandy-haired powerhouse far too much.

The hum of voices abruptly ceased. Judging by the grunts and gasps, Ross had taken charge and Evie was now blowing him.

Kit closed his eyes and recalled the taste of Ross’s cock upon his tongue, and then the sensations of both Ross and Evie giving him head. Curious that they’d both lavished that particular pleasure on him today. Evie definitely won on technique, although he admired Ross for his teasing and enthusiasm.

Absentminded of the cat, Kit hugged himself. Mimmy objected by sinking her claws into his arm. Talk about a passion killer. He released her and rubbed at the wounds, and watched her bolt back into the living room, presumably intent upon taking up her favourite radiator perch.

He couldn’t resist. Down he followed as far as the door, which sat slightly ajar thanks to Mimmy’s entry. Kit lurked in the shadows, his fly undone and his waistband slung low on his hips. He could see Evie’s face over the back of the sofa. Her head thrown back, chin up, as Ross noisily sucked upon her nipples. He had her breasts squeezed together, forming an incredible cleavage that he was lavishing attention upon, while she frigged herself and stroked his cock.

Nice, he thought, supplanting himself from his outpost to a central position behind Evie, facing Ross in his fantasy recreation of the scene. He plastered himself to her naked back, roughly jostled with Ross for possession of her breasts, then while rolling her huge nipples between his fingers, he nuzzled closer and sucked hard upon her neck, leaving a vivid mark.

“That’s right, Evie, suck it down. God, you’re loving this.”

Ross certainly was. He reckoned he could probably get off on just the image of her on her knees, half-naked with her head bobbing. The fact that she happened to be doing exactly that was a major bonus. The only thing he’d change in an ideal world was that they’d be doing this in the shower or outdoors in a thunderstorm. Although, it’d have to be a nice monsoon-type thunderstorm so the rain wasn’t too cold.

One of these days he really was going to have her do this outside in the rain in some nice romantic location, maybe even on their honeymoon, if she ever let him get that old-fashioned. For now, he wanted to hold her. Coming in her mouth, while nice, lacked the same intimacy as lying pressed together, bare skin moving against bare skin.

Ross clasped the base of his cock and coaxed Evie to release him with a gentle push upon her shoulder. She gazed up at him from her knees, her pale-blue eyes full of glamour.

“Upstairs,” he said. “Go.”

She shot off as though it was a race.

Ross scooped her clothes off the floor and threw them into the kitchen so that they landed before the washing machine, then turned off all the lights, the games machine, and the TV.

Evie sat on her side of the bed facing the window, a black silhouette against the cream curtains, when Ross entered the room. She turned her head to eye him across the expanse of the duvet.

Ross gently shut the door. For a moment, he simply drank down the image of her, with her soft curves and lovely, oval-shaped face. Even in the semi-dark, he could make out the dimple in her cheek that formed when she smiled.

“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees,” he said quietly. He didn’t want it to be a command, even though that’s what it was.

Unhesitant, she obeyed.

Ross stood for a moment, his hand wrapped around his stiff cock, trying to make sense of what he was doing. He wanted her, and yet he had an image of Kit in that damn leather wingback chair he had at work, all curled up and desperate to fuck. The same thirty second video loop had been playing in his head all afternoon.