The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

* * * *

Geneva was glad she was standing behind the bar wearing a wool skirt with a slip under it. As wet as her panties were, if she’d been sitting down, there would’ve been a wet spot the size of Texas on the back of her skirt when she stood up. There wasn’t a thing she could do about her nipples, though. Her camisole did nothing to mask their permanent pucker. Four tongues, four cocks, four
men…
Could she do it? Would she survive it with her heart intact?

Rhys had been after her for nearly two years with blatant come-ons and sly innuendo. The others had also dropped some very strong hints, but until tonight, it had only been talk. The physical contact was something new. True, she’d never taken them seriously, but if their persistence was any indication, they were as serious as a heart attack. She had a feeling that once wouldn’t be enough—for
any
of them.

When the set was over, Brayden streaked across the dance floor to the bar. “Brains Black, please.”

She slid the can of beer across the bar. “You guys sounded fabulous tonight—even better than usual.”

He snorted a laugh. “Why does that surprise you?”

“Just a comment,” she replied. “I’m really not surprised. You’re very good, you know.”

“Ha! You’ve only heard us play music.” He took a long drink of his beer. “I want another dance, Geneva.”

“I still haven’t recovered from the last one.”

His wide grin was completely irresistible. “Neither have I.”

“Willy still about to explode?”

He shook his head. “Not right at the moment, but my nuts are aching like you wouldn’t believe. Don’t s’pose you like to suck balls?”

Geneva nearly choked. “Haven’t had much experience with that, actually.”

“I love it m’self. Sometimes the guys all rub their nuts on my face, and I try to catch them in my mouth. ’S great fun.”

No doubt about it. I am
not
going to survive this night…
She cleared her throat. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He smiled again. “Don’t have to. You can try it yourself.” His eyes brightened as another thought occurred to him. “Lucky you, you’ll have
four
sets of nuts to suck. Wow.”

Geneva was already reaching for the Jameson when Nigel approached and asked for a Guinness. “So, Gen, are you still thinking?”

Geneva was pretty sure the look she gave him could have stripped paint off the walls. “Haven’t found the off button on my brain yet, so, yeah, I guess I am.”

Brayden gazed at Geneva with starry-eyed fascination. “Doncha just
love
her?”

“More than I love you,” Nigel replied, ruffling Brayden’s hair. “Just wish she’d let me prove it.”

Brayden elbowed his friend in the ribs. “If you’ll just go away and let me finish, we might get somewhere. I almost had her with the multiple ball-sucking thing.” Glancing at Geneva, he flicked his eyebrows. “I did, didn’t I? Your pussy is dripping with anticipation, and your nipples—”

“Put a sock in it, will you?” Nigel shot back as Geneva set the bottle on the bar. “We’re trying to show her how much we care, and you’re over here grossing her out.”

“Nuh-uh,” Brayden said with a slow wag of his head. “It’s turning her on. You wait and see.”

Nigel glanced at Geneva, who was doing her best to keep a straight face. “The object isn’t only to turn her on, but to make her see that we should be together and truly love one another forever.”

Brayden snickered. “Convince her of that
after
we’ve given her the banging of her life.” Shifting his weight, he slid onto a barstool and leaned across the bar. “We will, too. If what we do to you is anything like what they do to me, well, you’re in for life, luv.”

“Good, huh?”

“Very
good, and I’m not so bad m’self.” Grinning sheepishly, he added, “Got the biggest dick of the bunch.”

Geneva glanced at Nigel for confirmation.

“Yeah, he does. It’s huge.”

Brayden rolled his eyes. “He hates like hell to admit it, but we’ve measured them, so there’s hard evidence to prove it—get it?
Hard
evidence?” He laughed at his own joke before continuing. “I’m longer and thicker. His is prettier, though. Got a really nice head on it. Great for sucking.”

Geneva pressed her fingertips to her mouth. Much more of this and she’d be wailing like a banshee. Then she spotted the mixture of pride, chagrin, and embarrassment on Nigel’s face and began laughing hysterically.

“Now see what you’ve done,” Nigel muttered. “She’ll never take us seriously now.”

“Who would want that, anyway? All that mushy romantic shit doesn’t last, but a good dick is forever.”

Tears of laughter were streaming down Geneva’s face while Nigel and Brayden continued their debate about whether or not dicks truly lasted forever—“Impotence!” shouted Nigel. “Viagra!” countered Brayden—when Rhys and Sean finished chatting with some fans and strolled over.

* * * *

“Frequent ejaculations help to prevent prostate cancer,” Brayden was saying with total conviction. “At least we know that’s one thing that won’t do us in.”

Sean held out his hand to Geneva. “While these two are arguing, how about another dance?”

Her bemused smile went straight to his heart. “Uh, yeah, I guess.” She gestured toward the end of the bar. “Meet me there?”

Sean nodded and headed that way. Some of the younger patrons were grinding away on the dance floor to a recent hit song. Nothing they’d done with Geneva looked half as seductive as what the kids were doing.
I must be older than I think…

Of course, what he and his friends were proposing was far removed from the typical boy-and-girl hook-up. Rhys was right. She needed more romance. More respect. More
charm…

The trouble was, while Sean knew he fit the physical description of a romantic hero, he wasn’t anywhere near as charming as Rhys, wasn’t as funny as Brayden, and didn’t make women start quoting Lord Byron the way Nigel did. All Nigel needed was a poet’s shirt and tight breeches. Women would swoon.

Sean tended to do his talking with his guitar. The rest of the time, he kept quiet. Anytime he’d opened his mouth to talk to a woman, he was too stiff or something. Whatever the problem was, it had ruined his chances with girls since he was a teen. Once they got past his good looks, they were slain by his personality—and not in a good way.

Geneva was the exception. He could talk to her, and she didn’t seem to hate him afterward. Rhys had said she was perfect, and he wasn’t far from wrong. Something about her suited him, and everything about her was genuine—her smile, the way she walked, and the clothes she wore… Nothing fake about her. She simply was who she was, and Sean couldn’t help but admire her for it.

She didn’t flirt, didn’t tease, and had a razor-sharp wit, but he liked all that, too. A man couldn’t explain why a woman appealed to him anymore than he could help who he fell in love with, and Sean had fallen in love with Geneva.

Just when it had happened, he wasn’t sure. The sex with his bandmates was good, and he loved each of them in their own way. He enjoyed living with them as much as he enjoyed the music they made, but the harmony was incomplete. There was a note missing—the one that would transform their lives into a song—and Geneva was that note.

The jukebox changed to something quieter and more conducive to slow dancing and conversation—not that Sean was much of a conversationalist. She was smiling up at him now. “You mean I actually get to dance with one of you? Alone?”

When he took her in his arms, he could scarcely believe his luck. It was like finally getting a guitar solo right after wrestling with it for weeks, or writing the perfect final note to a song. His heart swelled with joy. “Maybe. I told Rhys I wanted to have you to myself for at least one dance. Not sure he can convince the others, though.”

“Nigel and Brayden will probably be busy for a while, especially with Rhys there to egg them on.” She chuckled softly. “They crack me up.”

“Yeah.”

“Just, ‘yeah’? That’s all you have to say?”

Oh, here we go…
“Look, I know I’m not witty and charming. I just wanted to dance with you. I’ve never really had the opportunity.”

“Brayden did cut in pretty quickly the last time.” She smiled wistfully. “He’s so damn cute…”

So she prefers cute to tall, dark, and handsome. Just my luck…
“Yeah.”

Geneva ducked her head, but Sean had a feeling she was hiding a smile. Clearing her throat, she seemed to overlook his last remark—such as it was. “I’m still trying to figure out why you guys need me. You’ve obviously been a very happy foursome up until now. I mean, I know what you said about wanting a girl, but why me?”

“Because we love you.”

Sean blinked. Had he really just blurted it out?

Her expression told him he had. “The others say that so easily, but it sounds…odd coming from you. I wonder why that is.”

Sean knew why. It was because he’d never said it before. “Dunno,” he said with a shrug.

“How about saying it a little differently?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You said
we
love you—but what about you, Sean? Are you just going along with the majority vote, or do I really matter to you?”

“You matter to me,” he mumbled. “I…didn’t get the chance to say it earlier. I’m sorry about what happened with your baby—and The Loser. Those kinds of things always…hurt.”

Her voice was a barely audible whisper. “Yes, they do.” When she laid her head against his chest, he could feel her sobs. Sean hadn’t meant to make her cry. He wanted to make her laugh the way Brayden had, but he was no comedian. Even though she was in his arms, she obviously wasn’t thinking about him. She was thinking about her lost baby and her git of an ex-boyfriend.

His hands moved of their own accord, one stroking her back while the other caressed her hair. “Don’t cry, Gen. We won’t let you down. We—I—love you.”

“I had no idea. Rhys is such a charming flirt. I’ll admit I never believed him, but you, you really mean it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. Been crazy about you for ages.” Having said the words, Sean felt like he’d been stabbed through the heart or pierced with Cupid’s arrow. Whatever it was, it hurt enough to fill his eyes with tears.

It was a good sort of pain, though. She believed him. Just the thought made him squeeze her tighter. Maybe this would work out after all.

Chapter 3

Rhys wasn’t sure leaving Sean alone with Geneva was the best idea when so much hung in the balance. Granted, Sean was a handsome devil, but eloquent he was not. Still, she
was
leaning against him, though she appeared to be crying, which probably wasn’t a good sign. Rhys’s biggest fear was that the only things they had to offer were fabulous sex and a nice house. He wanted more than that for Geneva, but he wasn’t positive they could provide it.

He reminded himself that he and his mates had been in a relationship that had lasted longer than some marriages. They were exclusive, but not bound by anything other than their names on the deed to the house. Bringing in a woman who might want something more legally binding was chancy.

Geneva had captured the fancy of each of them, which was a miracle in itself. He didn’t want to push her too hard or too fast, but he had a sneaking suspicion that her unattached state wouldn’t last long. It truly
was
now or never.

When the dance ended and Sean escorted her to the end of the bar, Rhys looked for some sign. Sean’s face was unreadable. Geneva simply shouted, “Last call for alcohol!” and went back to work. Catching Sean’s eye, he shot him a questioning look, but received only a shrug in reply.

Bugger it.
This wasn’t going well at all.

“You should see your anxious little faces,” Sean remarked. “You’d think I was Father Christmas.”

“Well, you might be,” Brayden conceded. “Depends on what you have to say.”

Sean shook his head. “Told her I loved her. Told her
we
loved her. She never said much of anything.” He glanced at Brayden. “Just said you were cute and that you and Nigel crack her up.”

Brayden was incredulous. “Aw, c’mon, man! She had to’ve said more than that!”