The Silk Tie (Erotic Threesome Romance) (10 page)

I
imagined him naked, his long body tanned, sleek and shiny with sweat. In my
mind’s eye Gabe stood next to him, his cock erect and eager. Brent’s hand
sliding over Gabe’s ass cheeks, just out of my view, and Gabe’s mouth falling
open as he was finger penetrated, the way it had been when I’d inserted the
dildo.

Brent
was gesturing with his hand, wanting me to go to them.

I did,
my legs light and a white negligee floating around my ass and tickling my
thighs.

I took
Gabe’s cock in my hand, and then Brent’s and began to work their erections to
full hardness. Gabe kissed me. Brent kissed me. Our tongues tangled.

An
orgasm was heading toward me. I was panting, my pussy contracted and heat
nestled between my thighs.

I sat
bolt upright and blinked in the blackness of the bedroom. My thoughts had
turned into a dream, a real but fantastical dream. My heart was pounding and my
nipples straining. I parted my lips and peeled my tongue from the roof of my
mouth.

Damn, I
needed a glass of water.

I
glanced at the digital clock. The neon green told me it had just gone midnight.
I’d been asleep for a couple of hours at least.

No
wonder I was dry, I should have brought water to the room.

I knew
instinctively, even in the darkness, that I was alone, that Gabe had yet to
join me.

I
twisted and dropped my legs over the edge of the bed. It was higher than mine
and I stumbled slightly as my feet hit the floor.

“Bugger,”
I muttered. I rooted around in my bag and found the robe I always traveled with
because it was made of black satin and folded into nothing.

I
pulled it on, glad of the layer of warmth. I had to have fluid. If I didn’t I’d
pay the price tomorrow, of that I was certain. A pounding head was not
something I wanted in my future.

The
landing was silent and only the dull amber glow of a lamp in the downstairs
hall lit the way. I clutched the banister, silently descended then went to the
kitchen.

I
wondered where Gabe and Brent had got to—perhaps they were talking shop,
discussing legalities or business structure. Maybe even going over Brent’s case
again.

A
flashback from my dream filled the darkness before me and I shook my head.

I had
to get a grip.

Of
course they wouldn’t be getting frisky in some dark corner.

I was
ridiculous.

I went
into the kitchen, filled a tumbler, drank deep, then refilled.

The
view from the window called to me. The moon was out and its silvery glow
reflected off the damp grass, each mowed line on the lawn sparkling. It was a
perfectly clear night and the temperature had dropped.

A small
buttery square stretched out to my left. It was light from a room farther on
from the kitchen spilling into the garden

After setting
down my drink, I went to investigate. Chances were that’s where Gabe and Brent
had ended up, likely having a nightcap.

It was
probably time to entice Gabe to bed, he’d have a hangover otherwise and he had
the drive back to London to contend with tomorrow.

Behind
the pantry was a door that led to a narrow corridor. I slowly made my way along
it, sliding my palm silently on the wall as it was so dark.

I could
hear the low murmur of voices, the men talking quietly, and the scent of burning
logs filtered toward me.

I
smiled, Gabe and his new best friend were certainly talkative when they got
together, they’d obviously got cold too, hence the fire.

There
were several doorways but the first one I came to was half open. I paused, my
hand on the frame, and peered in.

Sure
enough a fire glowed in a grate, and above it a mantel held three tall
candlesticks, all lit, in silver holders.

There were
two cracked-leather chairs angled toward each other.

Gabe
sat in the left, Brent in the right.

I
paused.

Stopped.

Held my
breath.

There
was something so intimate about the scene, the way they were close but not, how
their body language mirrored the other—legs crossed, hand gripping a
crystal tumbler—that had me hesitating.

“Tell
me, what was Samuel like?” Gabe asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

I’d
wondered what Samuel was like too.

“Why do
you want to know?” Brent asked, swilling his drink around the sides of his
glass.

I’d
guess it was whiskey from the color but it could be brandy.

Gabe
shrugged. “If your relationship with him comes up in court I don’t want to be
caught on the back foot.”

“Okay,
what do you want to know?” Brent shrugged.

“What
did he do for a living? How did you meet?”

“He
studied business like me but he took that into the sports world rather than
buying and selling property.”

“Oh, he
was sporty then?” Gabe took a sip of his drink.

“Yes,
very. Athletic.” Brent kind of laughed. “Fit. He ran marathons.”

There
was a pause. I lowered my hand and opened my mouth, preparing to announce my
presence.”

“And
you loved him?” Gabe asked.

I
stilled. My jaw tightened and my heart thudded. I could hear my pulse in my
ears. It was so quiet it was a wonder they couldn’t hear it too.

“Love
him.” Brent let out a small huff. “What do you think, Gabe?”

“I
think you did.”

“You
think right.” Brent bobbed his foot in the air and shrugged. “I loved him very
much, with everything that I was.”

“So how
come you didn’t stay with him?” Gabe asked. “Why did you marry Nadia if you
were in love with someone else?” He shook his head like he just didn’t get it.

Brent
didn’t reply.

Gabe
spoke again. “Is it because you were embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed
about what?”

“Being
gay?”

“I’m
not gay.”

“Oh,
well, you know, bisexual.”

My
stomach tightened as Gabe said the word that had been on my lips every time I’d
seen Brent that day.

“No,
not at all,” Brent said. “I told you before, it’s the way I’m wired. I see the
person not the gender, being bi is just how it is for me, and hell, it’s the
best way to be.”

“So you
loved Nadia more than Samuel? Is that why you married her?” Again Gabe sipped
his drink.

“That’s
partly it.” Brent rolled his shoulders.

He
clearly wasn’t uncomfortable with the conversation. He was as relaxed as he had
been when I first looked in on them.

“And,
what else?’ Gabe asked.

“Samuel
wasn’t ready to tell the world his lover was a man. He asked me to wait for
him, years before, at uni. I said I would but no one lives forever. I reached a
point where I’d met someone I wanted to be with—Nadia—and I had to
tell him. Give him an ultimatum it was have me now or I go permanently.” He
shook his head and leaned farther forward, elbows on his knees and his face
much closer to Gabe’s. “It wasn’t as simple as that, though. Samuel was working
in a male-dominated world—rugby—and he believed the impact on his
career would be too great. He couldn’t come out as wanting to be with a man, it
would have been devastating for his career, or so he believed.”

Gabe
frowned a little. “So he picked his job over you.”

“That’s
about the long and the short of it, yes.” Brent sighed. “But it didn’t end up
so bad, or at least not to start with.”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
loved Samuel but I loved Nadia too.”

“You
loved them both at the same time?”

“Yes.
Samuel and I went away together for a week before I proposed to Nadia. It was
to say goodbye because I knew I’d never see him again, not once I was married,
I just couldn’t trust myself to be around him and not rip his clothes off.”
Brent paused. “Sorry, Gabe, you being het you probably don’t need to hear stuff
like that.”

“Doesn’t
bother me,” Gabe said with a nonchalant shrug.

I was
watching Gabe in profile and as soon as he’d spoken I saw him swallow. What
Brent had just said had affected him, but I suspected not in a bad way.

Brent
shoved his hand through his hair. “While I was away that week I missed Nadia
terribly. I loved Samuel, but I loved her too.” He huffed. “If only society was
different, so many people could follow their hearts if you didn’t have to be so
damn constrained all the time.”

Gabe
tipped closer as though urging him to go on.

“If I
could have chosen…” Brent said. “In an ideal world. I’d have had them both,
Samuel and Nadia, and they would have got on, no jealousy, no animosity, they’d
have been there for each other.”

“What,
as lovers?”

“Yes,
the human heart has lots of space for love and devotion. As long as everyone is
honest, all manner of relationships work. It’s just us, our culture that says
it’s one man, one woman.”

“More
and more same-sex marriages are becoming commonplace,” Gabe said.

“Yes,
and I applaud and support that, but will polygamy ever be accepted?”

“I
can’t answer that, not as a lawyer or as a man.”

They
were quiet for a moment, then Brent spoke. “You and Hayley seem very happy
together.”

“Yes.
We’re the lucky ones.”

“I’m
pleased for you.” Brent paused. “She’s a beautiful, smart, sexy woman, a wife
any man would be proud of.”

“I am
proud of her…very.”

“She’d
never do to you what Nadia has done to me.” Brent rubbed at his scratchy cheek
again and the sandpapery sound of his palm creating friction reached me.

“No,
she wouldn’t,” Gabe said. “Honesty is the foundation of our relationship.”

“It’s
the best starting point.” Brent poured more whiskey. “And have you always been
faithful to her?”

“Yes,
of course.” Gabe took a sip of his drink. “I’d be crazy to risk losing the best
thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I
smiled and hugged my arms around myself. It was time to let it be known that I
was there.

“You
should never risk losing something you love.” Brent leaned closer to Gabe. He
had a wicked smile on his face. “But of course, you don’t need to be faithful
in fantasies.”

I
paused.

“That’s
true.” Gabe set his drink aside.

“So who
do you fantasize about?” Brent asked.

Gabe
laughed quietly. “Honestly?”

Mmm,
now I was curious. Very curious, I knew what I was doing was wrong,
eavesdropping from the shadows like this, but I couldn’t help myself, my feet
were harnessed to the floor and I was gripping the doorframe.

“Yeah,
honestly,” Brent whispered. “Who do you honestly fantasize about?”

“Hayley,”
Gabe said, his voice low and deep.

“Oh,
come on, there must be an actress who yanks your chain.”

Gabe
shook his head. “No.” He paused. “But there is someone.”

“Who?”

Gabe
said nothing; he pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes.

I stepped
back, gathering my robe into my fists, and held my breath.

I’d
seen that look on my husband’s face before…

“Who?”
Brent said again in barely a whisper. “Who do you fantasize about?”

“You,”
Gabe said. “I’ve been fantasizing about you, Brent.”

Gabe
tipped forward, wrapped his hand around the back of Brent’s neck, and drew
their mouths together.

It was
as though time had frozen. My heart was clattering but I didn’t need to breathe.
All I could see, think about, focus on, was my husband kissing another man.

Gabe’s
jaw worked gently, slowly, his temple joint indenting as the kiss deepened.

Their
dark chins scratched together and their lips moved to a sumptuous rhythmic dance.
They were sort of in silhouette, because of the fire, and I could make out
tongue action, a slick of softness between them.

I
released my breath.

My
nipples were hard against my robe and pressed onto my forearms through the
material. I’d hugged myself, almost as if holding my shock and my confusion
inside.

No way
could I reveal myself now.

Still
they kissed. Exploring each other’s mouths. Gabe kept a hold of Brent—the
way he did me on occasion—around the back of his neck. It was a firm,
possessive grip and I knew damn well that it felt seriously sexy.

The kiss
broke, as they pulled apart, for the briefest of moments, a thin thread of
saliva held them together.

“Gabe,”
Brent said, placing his hand over Gabe’s and taking his hand away from his
nape.

“I’m
sorry,” Gabe said. “It’s just…”

“You
don’t have to explain,” Brent said, licking his lips.

Oh, yes
he did. He’d just broken our marriage vows by kissing someone else, and not
only that, he’d told me earlier he wasn’t interested in Brent, yet here he was,
kissing the bloke and admitting he fantasized about him. There was definitely
some explaining to do if honesty was the foundation of our relationship.

“Go to
Hayley,” Brent said, placing Gabe’s hand on the arm of the chair and then
sitting back and breaking all contact.

“I’m
sorry, I really am, I—”

“Shh.”
Brent shook his head. “I like you, Gabe. A lot.” He grinned. “And I liked
kissing you even more, but I won’t come between a man and his wife. Not when
you have so much going for you both.”

“I know
you wouldn’t. And I don’t want you to. I love Hayley.” Gabe rested his palms on
his cheeks. “Fuck. I don’t know what’s got into me lately.”

“Hey,
don’t worry about it. This doesn’t change anything between us. We’re still
friends.” He knocked back the last of his drink. “Go to bed. Go to your wife.
Everything will be fine in the morning.”

Gabe
nodded. “Yes. You’re right and—”

“Don’t
you dare say you’re sorry again,” Brent interrupted. “Because I’m not. Like I
said, I enjoyed kissing you but that’s all it was, a kiss.”

Gabe
set down his drink and stood.

Quickly,
I backed down the hall. Moving silently, I hurried across the kitchen, scooped
up my glass of water then ran lightly up the stairs.

After
shutting the bedroom door with the quietest of clicks, I placed the water down
on the bedside locker and slipped beneath the covers. I turned away, toward the
wall and drew up my legs.

Remembering
I had the robe on, I hastily dragged it off and tossed it aside.

I’d
just sunk my head onto the pillow and pulled up the cover when the door opened.

I shut
my eyes and stilled completely.

The
door shut.

The
soft sound of Gabe’s feet on the carpet and the rustle of clothes told me he
was undressing.

Within
minutes he’d brushed his teeth and had slid into bed next to me.

I
sagged toward him a little, his weight drawing me close on the soft mattress.
He snuggled in, spooning his body around mine and winding his arm over my bare
chest.

I
didn’t move. I pretended to be fast asleep and kept my breathing even and slow.
Even though a war was raging within me, I held it there. What I’d seen needed to
be digested, understood.

I
hadn’t hated seeing them kiss; in fact, it was deliriously sexy, but still…Gabe
couldn’t just go around kissing other people. That was my role in his life, I
was his to kiss, no one else.

He pressed
his lips to my head. His body was warm against mine and he smelled of whiskey
and burning logs.

I
murmured something incoherent and was glad when he seemed content to just hold
me.

* * *

Considering
the middle-of-the-night events, I slept well. When I woke Gabe was wrapped around
me. His legs had tangled with mine and his cheek was pressed against my
shoulder. His soft breaths tickled my skin.

I
remained motionless and looked around the room. It was dark but light creeping
in from around the curtains told me the sun was crawling up the sky.

My
mouth was dry so I shifted and reached for my water. As I lay back down, Gabe
opened his eyes and smiled sleepily.

“Hey,”
he said.

“Morning.”

He
scooped me close then shifted suddenly and tucked me beneath his big body.

I
raised my eyebrows and looked up at him. His stubble was thick and his eyes
were lazy and dreamy.

He
shifted his hips and forced my legs apart, settling between them with his
morning hard-on pressing onto my pubic hair.

“It is
a good morning,” I said, studying his lips—lips that had kissed Brent the
night before.

“It’s
always good when I wake up next to you.” He slipped his hand downward and
tugged at my knickers.

I
wriggled and assisted him with pulling them off.

“What
time did you come to bed?” I asked.

“Late.
You were asleep.”

“Mmm…”
I sucked in a breath as the head of his cock slid through my outer folds and he
searched for my entrance.

“Ah,
you’re so damn warm and sexy,” he murmured, propping onto his elbows and
hovering his face above mine.

“And
you’re hard and sexy,” I said. Hell. It had been sexy to see him with Brent the
night before. I thought about it now and felt a flush of arousal between my
legs. Gabe’s jaw, the way it had moved, that flash of tongue, the tiniest bit
of saliva.

Would
Brent think it sexy to see us like this? Fucking, in his house, under his roof?
Would it turn him on?

Gabe
stared down at me, unblinking, and eased into my pussy.

He
filled me so absolutely, and as he hit full depth a moan of appreciation
rumbled up from my chest and I shut my eyes.

“Look
at me,” he whispered. “Hales, look at me, please.”

I did
as he’d asked and stared up at him. I slipped my hands over his warm skin and
rested them on his shoulders.

“Are
you okay?” I asked.

“Yes. I
just need…” He frowned.

“What?”

He
pulled out a little and rocked back in. His pubis caught my clit and I
struggled to maintain eye contact.

“I just
need you,” he said. “I need you to know…how much I love you.”

“I do
know.” I brushed my hand over his hair. “I do know.”

God,
was he going to tell me he’d kissed Brent while he was buried in me?

“Hales,”
he said. “You’re so perfect for me.”

He
picked up the speed; it wasn’t a fast, crazy fuck, but now it had really got
all my erogenous zones homing in on the sensations he was giving me.

We
could talk later.

Right
now I needed to take what was mine.

Gabe.

His
chest hair scratched my chest, his cock rubbed my G-spot and he rocked harder,
faster against my clit.

After a
few minutes I was panting and sweat was popping all over my body. I curled my
toes and clenched my fists. My pussy had clasped his cock and I was jutting my
hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“I’m
coming,” I gasped.

“Me
too,” he said. “Keep looking at me, as you come.”

Supporting
his weight on his elbows, he pressed his palms to my cheeks.

He was
all I could see. His face filled my vision.

I
stared up at him, gulped in a breath and let the heavenly explosive feelings in
my pelvis build and build then overspill.

I
gasped, shoved my head back into the pillow and came as I looked into his eyes.

His
cock surged within me and he came too—three deep thrusts—jettisoning
his release high into my pussy.

I clung
to him with all of my limbs. We were so close, so in tune.

I could
see into his soul the way he could see into mine.

Him
kissing Brent wouldn’t come between us. I’d make sure of it. If anything, if I
played my cards right, it could bring us closer.

* * * *

We
showered separately, dressed then went downstairs.

Brent
was sitting on the patio in the sunshine sipping coffee. He wore dark denim jeans
and a white polo shirt. Again, I was struck by how handsome he was. His
features were angled, perfectly symmetrical and his lips were full and sensual.

“Good
morning,” he said, folding his newspaper and standing. “Would you like tea or
coffee?”

“Tea
please,” I said, slipping my shades on. The sun was dazzling.

“Gabe?”
Brent turned to Gabe, who was a little to my left.

“Coffee
is perfect. Can I do something to help?”

“No,
it’s done, please sit. I’ll bring it out.”

He
smiled and walked past me and I got a fresh hit of his aftershave. It really
was sumptuous, kind of tropical but also very expensive-smelling.

Gabe
took one of the seats and looked out at the garden and the river beyond.
“Another beautiful day in paradise,” he said.

“It
certainly feels like a million miles away from Chelsea,” I said. “Almost as if
anything could happen here and it wouldn’t matter to our lives back in London.”

He
frowned and studied me. “What do you mean?”

I
didn’t speak. I hadn’t planned on giving him an opening to tell me about
kissing Brent, but it had just slipped out. It seemed my usual self-control had
taken a bit of a nosedive lately with everything that was going on.

Shrugging,
I said, “You know, it’s the kind of place all manner of fun could be had.”

“We’ve
had some fun.” He paused, leaned closer. “In the shower yesterday and then
before we even got out of bed this morning.”

“Yes,
that was fun.”

“Here
we go,” Brent said, walking out of the French doors carrying a tray laden with
croissants and pastries.

I sat
back and crossed my legs. “Mmm, this looks lovely.”

He set
the tray down then poured my tea.

“Thank
you,” I said as he sat next to me. 

“You’re
most welcome.” He grabbed a pastry. “What time do you folks have to head off?”

Gabe
glanced at me. “I don’t think we have any great rush, do we?”

“No,” I
said, adding a splash of milk to my tea. “Not really.”

“Oh,
that’s good. I wondered if we might go for a stroll and then perhaps a swim
after lunch.” Brent pointed to the pool on the opposite side of the garden to
the tennis court.

I
reached for a croissant. “A swim?” I repeated. “I didn’t bring my costume.”

Brent
frowned. “Mmm, I wonder if I have some spare.”

“No,
it’s okay.”  A sudden idea came to me. “How about I skip the walk and nip
into Henley and buy one? I’d love to have a wander around the shops there. They
look adorable.”

“Are
you sure?” Gabe asked. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“No,
seriously. You’ll only be bored. If you drop me off then go with Brent and I’ll
get a cab back when I’m done, before lunch.”

“If
you’re sure,” Gabe said.

“Yes.
I’m sure.” I bit into my croissant and looked between the two men. Both
devastatingly gorgeous, elegant and seriously hot, and after what I’d witnessed
last night, both into each other.

So why
was I leaving them alone?

I
swallowed and opened a small jar of jam.

Because
I trusted Brent. He’d told Gabe to come to me last night.

I also
trusted Gabe, I trusted his love for me.

I was
sure it would all be okay.

* * * *

Henley
was the perfect English town to spend a Sunday morning ambling around. A few
shops were shut, the butcher and the hardware store, but the small Tudor-style
shops, with lead-paned windows and bursting hanging baskets by the doorways
were open for business.

I found
a bikini—navy blue with white polka dots—and bought it without
trying it on. I then found a scarf with little rowing boats printed on it and
picked it up to go with my sister’s birthday present. It would easily squeeze
into the leather bag I’d bought her to send to New York.