Everything to Him (6 page)

“Why don’t you give it a try?” Amber suggested, feeling her juices soaking her panties as the sexual tension between the two of them, never very far from the surface, rose a notch higher. “Climb on and see what it’s like.”

As Josh clambered into the swing, and lay back to experience the feeling of being held suspended in its soft leather embrace, Amber fished her phone from her jeans pocket. She composed a short text, and sent it to Felix.
Hurry home, darling, we’ve started without you…

* * * *

When Felix burst through the playroom door, less than twenty minutes later, he appeared surprisingly unruffled. Amber had hoped he’d drop everything to dash and join them, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“You caught me at a good time,” he said, loosening his tie. “We’d just wrapped up the meeting and I was hailing a taxi when I got your text. I’d have joined you sooner, but I had to check you weren’t in one of the bedrooms, or the bathroom…”

Briefly, Amber’s mind filled with images of all the other rooms in the apartment where the three of them could fuck, should they choose. She lay back in the swing, opening her legs and teasing her husband with flashes of her wet pussy as he approached. Already, he’d shed his jacket, and was now unbuttoning his shirt, eager to get as naked as Amber and Josh already were.

Amber and Josh had spent a long time undressing, revelling in the thrill of slowly unpeeling each other out of heavy layers of winter clothing, in contrast to Clearwater Cay, where the three of them had spent all their time as good as naked. Amber had looked into Josh’s eyes as he’d stripped her, and occasionally they’d paused to share a deep, sensual kiss. What she felt for Josh wasn’t the all-consuming love she had for Felix, but she’d grown closer to him over the last few days than she could ever have imagined. Once this week was over and he went back to his usual routine, they would remain close friends, she was sure.

When Josh’d had Amber down to nothing but her saucy zebra print panties, he’d encouraged her to get onto the swing. Having assured himself it was more than secure enough to take her weight, and his, he’d seemed eager to find out just how much fun they could have with Amber hanging in erotic suspension.

The swing had originally been set up so that when Amber was in place, her crotch was at just the right height for Felix to fuck her in a standing position. Josh was only a couple of inches shorter than Felix, and as soon as he’d caught hold of the latticework of the swing and pulled Amber towards him, his face had lit up in a wicked smile. He’d obviously worked out the mechanics of the equipment and was imagining how it would feel when Amber’s cunt enveloped his cock.

Then he’d stepped back. “I need a condom.” Amber had made it very clear at the start of their adventure that she only had one rule Josh needed to abide by—unlike Felix, he wasn’t allowed to fuck her without wearing a condom.

She’d gestured to a black wooden box that stood on a short shelf attached to the wall opposite them. “They’re in the toy box. You’ll find lube in there, too, and dildos, beads… Whatever else you might need.”

And that was how they’d been when Felix had walked in. Amber, waiting in the swing as Josh retrieved a condom and rolled the super-sensitive sheath over his length.

Now Felix stood to the side of the swing, ridding himself of his trousers, as Josh got into position. Amber’s heart pounded with anticipation, her nipples were tight knots of sensation, and her pussy felt swollen, syrupy. She pressed a hand to the wet sex-flesh to rub away the tension that was building there. Hearing a small groan from Josh in response to the sight of her touching herself, Amber flicked at her clit with her index finger.

“Come on, Josh,” she purred. “Fuck me. I need that gorgeous cock of yours inside me.”

Josh hurried to obey, and Amber bit back a cry of pleasure as he began to slide into her, inch by slow inch. She looked down at the place where their bodies joined, seeing his thickness pushing apart her soft, smooth lips. When she looked up again, her eyes met Felix’s.

“How does it feel to have him fucking you, Amber?” he asked.

“It feels amazing,” she answered. Though it was far from the first time she’d had Josh’s meaty dick buried inside her, the feeling of weightlessness that came from being cradled in the sex swing gave the penetration an extra edge. At that moment, Josh gave a thrust so hard it almost forced the breath from her and she arched her head back.

“I have to try something, if you’ll let me,” Felix murmured, close to her ear. “I have to fuck your mouth.”

“Yes,” was all she could reply, then his crown was pushing past her lips, and all she tasted was the hot saltiness of him. This was so like the fantasies she’d had of sex with two men, both of them using her for their pleasure and, ultimately, her own, and she felt the first faint ripples of orgasm stirring in her belly.

Josh and Felix worked to establish a rhythm that suited both of them, the steady movement of the swing as Josh thrust into Amber’s pussy pushing her mouth farther onto Felix’s shaft. She’d never swallowed him at this angle before, and it felt strange, as though her throat was solidly packed with his flesh. Strange, but undeniably arousing. The blood rushed to her head, and every inch of her body prickled with desire. If it was possible to expire from pleasure, she couldn’t think of a better way to go.

“That’s it,” she heard Felix say, as if from a long way away. “Let go, let it take you. God, you don’t know just how much I love you right now…”

The ripples became a full-blown tsunami. Her pussy convulsed around Josh’s cock, and she would have howled the walls down if it hadn’t been for Felix plugging her mouth. Filled with love for both men, knowing the three of them would never experience another week quite like this again in their life, Amber let her orgasm sweep her away.

Epilogue

Propped up against a pile of pillows, Felix leafed through the pages of the latest issue of
Glitz!
magazine until he reached Josh Broughton’s profile of him. The magazine had been brought over to Brookwood Manor that afternoon, hot off the press—another of the perks of being who he was—but he’d resisted the temptation to read it until now. Its cover featured one of the many shots taken of him and Amber in the photo shoot that had been rescheduled following their return from New York. He looked, to his eyes, stiff and formal in the photo, but the images that best represented their time with Josh—drinking shots of rum out of Amber’s navel on a beach at sunset, playing naked on the sex swing in their Central Park West apartment—were hardly suitable for the pages of
Glitz!
. Instead, they remained a delicious memory of a week when—for the most part at least—he’d forgotten about the pressures of business and concentrated on making his and Amber’s deepest sexual fantasies come true.

“So what does Josh have to say about us?” Amber asked, rolling over and wrapping the bed sheet around her naked body. “He’s been very secretive about that article whenever I’ve asked him.”

“Let me see.” Felix cleared his throat and began to read aloud. “‘It’s not easy being a billionaire right now, to appear to have everything when so many others have nothing. But Felix Meredith started his business empire from nothing, and his rise to success has been achieved through hard work and a determination to succeed where others might have surrendered to the odds stacked against them. You can never know a man, the proverb says, until you have walked a mile in his shoes, and that’s what I spent a week doing, finding out how Felix spends his money, how he relaxes, and how he shows his devotion to his beautiful wife, Amber…’” He paused. “Well, it all seems very positive so far. Shall I go on?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Amber said. She reached under the sheet and caught hold of Felix’s cock, which began to harden at her touch. “Right now, I’m in the mood to play again.”

“Honestly, darling, you’re insatiable.”

Amber dropped a kiss on his lips. “And you love me for it, don’t you?”

Felix couldn’t argue that point. “Well, we’ll be sure to thank Josh for writing such nice things about us, won’t we?”

Amber smiled. “Of course. In fact, I think we can do that right now.”

As she spoke, she heard the shower in the adjoining wet room being switched off. A minute later, Josh emerged into the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel. He hadn’t bothered to pull on a robe, and his cock, as hard as Felix’s, bounced and swayed as he walked.

“Felix was just saying we should thank you for the article you wrote,” Amber told him. “And we should also thank you for bringing it over to us. You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh, but I did,” Josh said. “It’s all part of the
Glitz!
service.”

Felix knew that to be untrue, but he wasn’t going to argue. When he’d rung Josh and suggested he come to the Manor with the magazine when it was published, he’d known how that would end—with the three of them in bed, picking up where they’d left off in New York. Amber hadn’t said as much, but he’d sensed she wanted to see Josh again, making their association a longer-lasting ménage than they’d originally planned. He had no objections to that—in fact, he was happy to encourage the liaison. As he repeatedly told her, Amber meant everything to him, and what was the point of having money and influence if he couldn’t use those things to give her everything she wanted?

With a grin, he settled back to watch Amber give Josh a long, luxurious blow job.

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Three-part Harmony

Elizabeth Coldwell

Excerpt

Chapter One

Mark quit the band six days before we were due to embark on our comeback tour.

It was the timing that really upset me, more than the news itself. After all, I’d been expecting him to leave at almost any time over the last eleven years, ever since the day I’d told him Stefan and I were getting married. Instead, he’d stayed—channelling all his sense of loss, betrayal and stone-cold determination never to let another woman hurt him the way I had, into songs that catapulted us to a level of international success far beyond our wildest dreams. Even during the eighteen-month hiatus we’d effectively been on between finishing our last tour and starting work on our latest CD, Mark had given no indication he was unhappy with the state of affairs. Indeed, the flow of ideas, the creative understanding between the three of us who wrote the songs, was as strong as it ever had been. So why walk out
now
, when
Older, No Wiser
was top of the download charts and the concert promoters were adding extra dates to the tour after the original ones had sold out within hours?

At least he’d had the decency to announce the news to our faces before leaking it on his Twitter feed. When he’d walked into the rehearsal room, lugging his faithful Stratocaster in its battered leather case, I should have realised something was wrong. But somewhere down the years, the almost telepathic understanding we’d once enjoyed had faded, and now I simply assumed he was grumpy after a bad night’s sleep in a strange hotel room.

“Oh, and about time, too!” Paul put his coffee mug down on top of the speaker stack with a theatrical flourish and went to sit behind his drum kit. As half of the rhythm section responsible for keeping time and pulling everything together tightly, he liked to extend that role into the rest of his life. Mark’s lack of punctuality never failed to annoy him.

“Sorry, guys. I would have been here sooner, but—” Mark sighed, pushing a hand through his black hair. “Look, there’s no easy way of saying this, so I’ll just come right out with it. I talked to Jeannie for a couple of hours last night, and I just… I just don’t feel my place is in the band anymore. I’ve got things in my life I need to sort out. Things I should have dealt with years ago. I’m going over to Bodega Bay to stay with Jeannie for a while. She’s going to help me work through them.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re walking out on us?” Stefan sounded strangely calm. I was anything but. I knew if I opened my mouth now it would be to emit a scream of pure rage. “A week before we’re supposed to open the tour in Pittsburgh, and you’ve decided that’s it? You’re off?”

“I appreciate this might not be the greatest time to do it, but I just can’t get up on stage night after night. Not with my head where it is right now.”

When had Mark stopped talking like the born and bred North London boy he was and started justifying his actions with a stream of mid-Atlantic psycho-babble? Probably about the same time he’d met and married Jeannie Montacute. A New Age therapist who ran an exclusive rehab facility on the California coast, she had encouraged Mark to quit drinking, start eating a macrobiotic diet and perform yoga on a regular basis. Even though they’d split up within two years of the wedding, they were still close. Closer than the rest of us thought, apparently, if the fact he’d gone to her for advice was any proof.

“And it gives me a chance to spend time with the boys,” Mark continued. “God knows I haven’t seen enough of them over the last couple of years.”

The boys were Mark’s four-year-old twin sons, Gunnar and Sky. He carried photos of them everywhere, dog-eared from being pulled out of his wallet and looked at repeatedly, and their names were embroidered on his guitar strap. A combination of touring and the breakup with Jeannie meant he’d missed their first steps, their first words. Furious as I was with his decision, I couldn’t fail to appreciate his need to watch them grow up.

For a long moment, the five of us exchanged awkward glances. The tension in the room enveloped us like a clammy blanket. Then Davey, always the most forgiving soul, stepped out from behind his bank of keyboards and enfolded Mark in a huge hug.