Raising the Stakes: Three of a Kind, Book 2 (12 page)

She smiled. “Now it’s your turn.”

Fuck, she’d done that on purpose.

Meg let the towel fall away, exposing herself to him in all her naked glory, setting his teeth on edge.

“Just so happens, I brought this from the bedroom.” She held up a condom. “Would you like it?”

Des growled low in his throat. His hands shook so badly, he wouldn’t be able to complete the simple task. “Put it on me.”

Meg’s eyes glittered as she used her teeth to tear open the package. Her fingers were warm on his cock, agile. She had the condom in place and his shaft full to bursting in seconds.

When she walked over to his small kitchen table and leaned down over it, squashing her breasts against the tabletop and pushing her butt in the air, Des lost all control.

He was inside her before he’d taken his next breath.

Her silken pussy was hot and wet, drawing him in deeper every time he thrust his hips. Her moans filled the air, making him dizzy.

He made her moan. Not Alex.

“Feels amazing,” she said in a breathy voice. “Don’t stop.”

Stop? Now? He’d do himself a permanent injury. “Won’t. I swear.” Not until she’d come.

This Meg, this soft, open, teasing Meg, was every bit as wonderful as the wild lover from last night. Every inch as sexy.

“I love you, Des,” she sighed. “So very much.”

He grew an inch inside her. “Love you too, Meggy-mine.” And yes, she was his. Alex’s also, but definitely his. Right now though? Just his. He pumped a little harder, loath to finish this anytime soon but desperate to avoid interruption.

He wanted her to come on his dick. His alone. No Alex there to usurp her attention.

“God, that’s unbelievable.” Meg pushed back to meet his thrusts.

He drove into her.

“Again, Des. Do it again.” Her fingers balled into fists on the table.

He did. He plunged into her, again and again, relishing their solitude, relishing her responsiveness. Relishing…her. Just her. God, he loved her.

The knowledge heightened the sensation of being inside her.

She loved him.

Made it a million times more incredible.

They loved each other.

He clutched her hip with one hand and wound the other around her waist, burrowing his finger between her pussy lips and finding her clit.

He rubbed gently.

Meg let out a long, low howl, and came.

Thank fucking God.

Des lost it. Lost control. He erupted in her depths, an overwhelming sense of love consuming him. This was how it should be. Just him and Meg. No one else.

The day was perfect. The whole weekend was.

After establishing Des had used work as an excuse to avoid seeing a movie with her and was indeed free, she and Alex spent Saturday at Des’s place. They ate and talked and sat together in comfortable silence. That evening the men watched telly, taking in a footy game, while Megan sat companionably between them reading.

The night was spent in Des’s bed, sometimes asleep, but mostly awake, and very active.

When Megan collapsed in an exhausted ball, sure her body could not take one more iota of sex, the two men laid her out on her belly and massaged her from head to toe until she’d dipped into a trancelike state and slipped into a deliciously revitalizing sleep. She awoke hours later, once the sun had risen, to the pungent aromas of coffee, pancakes and maple syrup.

On Sunday morning, Des and Megan went along with Alex to visit his current project, an old house about to be revamped. Alex’s first love in architecture was renovating, and Megan understood why as he walked the two of them through the tumbled-down, rickety, single-level structure and painted graphic images of what the place would look like once redone. The walls of the living area would be opened up and the house extended outward, so the current lounge/dining room would become two separate rooms leading off an open-plan kitchen. The now small two-bedroom home would become a larger, modern building that could house a large family.

Meg took the time to admire a stunning house next door, one with tumbled marble tiles and sleek angles that fit in perfectly with the up-market neighborhood.

Alex grinned at her and proudly explained it was one of his designs.

One of his masterpieces, more like it.

Back at Alex’s place, naked once again, Alex seated himself on the armchair in his room and pulled Megan on top of him, positioning her so she straddled him. As he plunged inside her, Des stood beside the chair, his cock rigid beside her breast. With Alex deep inside her pussy, she reached down and took Des in her mouth.

They all three climaxed within minutes of one another.

Over takeouts for lunch, they chatted easily about everything and anything, and Alex even brainstormed a couple of new marketing ideas with Des.

Megan took a moment to sit back and survey what had changed since Friday night. In one weekend her life had changed entirely, and she could not be happier or more content.

Her uninhibited pleasure made Des’s declaration that evening even more shocking.

Alex had left to meet with the homeowner to discuss the plans for the renos. She and Des were alone for the first time in…criminy, in two months
.

She switched on the telly and settled down beside him to flick through channels and find something they’d both enjoy.

He took the remote from her hands and set it on the cushion beside him. “Meggy-mine?”

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

Alex parked his car in the drive, anticipation building with every step he took closer to his house. Megan was inside with Des. It was anyone’s guess what they’d been up to while he was gone, but he didn’t begrudge them their time alone.

As surprising as the idea of their threesome still was, in reality it worked beautifully. Rather than spitting with jealousy whenever Des claimed Megan, Alex found himself aroused beyond reason. Plus, he’d been right. Megan relishing the love of one man was a sight to behold. Radiant from the love of two men, she was magnificent.

He could not fucking wait to open the door. What would they be doing? Would they need to shift around to make room for him, or would he be able to join them without any rearrangement of bodies?

The last thing he expected was for Megan to throw herself in his arms as sobs racked her body.

He clutched her tight.
What the fuck?

“He left,” she gasped.

“What?”

“Desmond. He left.”

No fucking way.
“When?”

“T-twenty minutes ago. Maybe h-half an hour.” Tears streamed down her face, soaking his shoulder.

“Why?”

“B-bec-because…” She didn’t finish.

Alex lifted her like a child and carried her across the room, settling them down on the couch. He held her, rocked her on his lap as she tried, breathlessly, to explain.

“He said he tried.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, but still her tears fell. “Said it was good. But…but not for… Not for him.”

Alex listened, tried to make sense of her words.

“He doesn’t want this.” Big, shuddery breath. “Doesn’t want…us.”

Well, fuck.
“He said so?”

Sobs consumed her again. She couldn’t answer, nodding instead.

What the…
Alex struggled with her words. Des didn’t want to be a part of them? Didn’t want to continue the threesome?

He shook his head in disbelief. No way. It didn’t make sense.

He’d been there, right alongside Des, almost every time the man had made love to Megan. He’d witnessed Des’s lust, his unconcealed hunger for Megan, his rampant desire for sex—three-way sex. Des may have been hesitant in the beginning, but after that first time—when Alex had been forced to sit back and watch—he’d flung himself into their ménage a trois. No question about it, Des had been as willing and as active a participant as he and Megan had been.

Fuck, double fuck and cluster fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Des walked out on you?” he asked at last. “On us?” Because damn it, they were an “us”. Or they had been when Alex left for his meeting. Now, it was all different.

“It gets worse.” Megan hiccupped.

How could it possibly? Des had walked away from Megan, breaking her heart in the process and ending the most incredible sexual encounter Alex had ever experienced. Alex had sported a fucking erection the entire way through his meeting. While the glut of sexual activity over the weekend should have allayed his hunger, it had instead had the opposite effect, making Alex hornier than ever, and more impatient with work than usual.

All he’d wanted was to come home, pull Megan between Des and himself, and sink his cock into her depths on one side while Des took care of the other.

Not gonna happen now.

He ran his hand over her hair, soothing her. “Tell me how it could get worse, baby.”

“H-he-he—” She took a big, shaky breath. “He wanted me to leave with him.”

Chapter Eight

Des awoke as semen gushed from his dick onto his stomach, releasing his pent-up frustration in unexpected and unwelcome spurts.

Again? Another fucking wet dream?

How many could one man have before his sanity began to slide?

Only it wasn’t a dream that had led to his current state of disarray. It was a memory. Another one. Of making love to Meggy. Of driving his dick into her ass as she feasted on Alex’s cock. A memory of the feel of her tight, hot channel—slickened with lube and her own natural juices—pulsing around him, clasping him in her depths, holding him there, while Alex moaned his approval out loud.

How could he not recall the way Meg had dissolved on his finger when he found her clit and thrummed, or the way Alex had bucked as he came in her mouth?

How could he forget how a satiated Al had swiveled around, tunneled beneath Meg’s body and licked her pussy while Des continued to take her ass? Or forget the way Meg had come again and again, milking his own orgasm in the process?

He couldn’t. That was the problem. He couldn’t forget one fucking second. Which explained why night after night he awoke in a cold sweat with come dripping off his stomach.

Even in the two months he’d spent alone before, wanting Meg and not being able to have her, his dreams were never this vivid, this kinky or this needy. He couldn’t forget, not Meg and not Alex. And certainly not their encounters together.

Des grabbed a box of tissues and wiped off the mess.

Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

He wasn’t supposed to miss
them
. Just Meg. He’d walked away because he couldn’t have her to himself. So why did it now hurt to think of both of them?

He’d come to terms with the idea that if he couldn’t have Meg to himself, he wouldn’t have her at all. Better that than to be forced to share her.

He was an adult. A grown man. He wasn’t looking for a little sexy fun on the side, a little three-way play. He sought a life partner. A wife. A woman who’d stand by his side every day, and perhaps even, sometime in the not-too-distant future, bear his children.

Meg could have been that woman. Should have been, but she didn’t envisage the same future. The one she saw held Alex in it. Alex and Des.

Des’s vision did not.

Way too big a difference to conquer. There’d been no choice. Des had to walk away.

He’d given Meg the choice to come with him. Hell, he’d begged her to come, but in the end, her love for Alex proved too strong. As much as she professed to love Des, she wouldn’t leave Alex for him.

Her alternative was for the three of them to attempt a future together.

Des could not accept that. Could not accept a future where he shared the woman he loved with another man. No matter how fucking good it felt making love to her at the same time as that other man did. No matter how super incredibly satisfying the sex had been.

His future held one other person. Not two.

So why the fuck did his dreams, his memories, now revolve around two people, not one?

Des’s day at work was no improvement over his morning. He was in a foul mood—as he had been the entire week. The day did not improve with the knock on his office door. And it only got worse when said door opened, revealing the very man he’d dreamed about God knew how many times this week.

Des scanned the area behind him, hoping to find the woman in his dreams as well.

She wasn’t there.

He nodded at his guest. “Alex.”

“Des.” Alex nodded back. “Mind if I come in?”

Shit. What was he doing here?
Des held out his hand in invitation.

Alex shut the door behind him, closing out the noise of the shop and the shopping center beyond it. He pulled out a chair and sat, resting one foot on his knee and his elbows on the arms of the chair. He steepled his fingers together.

Des flickered over a thousand things he might say to the other man and settled on nothing. Offering him a drink was too damn inane, and admitting to missing him and Megan so much he hurt was a little too personal.

He needn’t have worried about making conversation. Alex began talking almost immediately.

“Know why I like renovating old houses?” he asked without preamble.

Des couldn’t hide his surprise. There were many things he’d expected Al to say, ranging from what an asshole Des was to how much Meg now hated him. Architecture had not been a foreseen topic of conversation.

“Uh…no.”

“Because I love working with an existing foundation.”

“Ah. Right.” Des nodded again, pretending he knew just what the hell Alex was talking about.

“There are houses out there that need to be knocked down. The walls are crumbling, the foundations are sliding. The material isn’t strong enough to build on. You have to start from scratch.”

Another sage nod in Alex’s direction.
What the…?

“But a fixer-upper? Not so. A fixer-upper you can work with. You can change. You can take average and create magnificence.”

Okay, so Des still had no clue what Alex was going on about, but he understood what Al meant. Alex was good at creating magnificence. Bloody good. Last weekend Des had seen the evidence of his brilliance.

“Know the part I love best?”