The Silk Tie (Erotic Threesome Romance) (16 page)

“Do you
like it?”

I
turned. An elderly gentleman, large jowls and narrow but friendly eyes, stood
behind me.

“Yes,
it’s beautiful.”

“It’s
French,” he said. “I picked it up from a market outside Paris six months ago.”
He reached for the slim pole between base and mirror, gripped it then upended
the whole thing.

“It has
a hallmark and it’s dated early last century. Quite the find.”

“I
should say.” I examined it closer. It really was exquisite. I wondered how it
would look in the hallway, on the narrow sideboard where currently the flowers
Gabe had bought me stood. The crested tip and the detailed engravings on the
base of the mirror were very pretty, plus the dull golden color appealed to me;
it looked antique.

“How
much is it?” I asked.

“For a
pretty lady, one hundred,” he said.

I
laughed. “And you picked it up for ten, I’m sure.”

“No,
oh, no, I’m hardly making a profit.”

If I
couldn’t see through him I’d be a terrible lawyer, but he had to make a living.
“I’ll give you fifty, no more, I’m afraid.”

“No,
that doesn’t match what I paid for it.” He shook his head but there was a
sparkle in his eye; he was enjoying our banter.

“Mmm…”
I rubbed my chin. “Well, how about sixty?”

“Ninety.”

“No,
I’m not really sure it would fit where I have in mind for it.”

“It’s
not big.”

“My
home isn’t big, it’s in Chelsea.”

“Ahh…expensive
place to live.”

“Exactly,
which is why sixty is my final offer.” I folded my arms and tipped my head.

“Eighty.”

“Seventy.”

“Seventy-five.”

“Deal,”
I said and laughed.

He
grinned too and I was sure he’d made a decent profit out of me.

“Let me
wrap it for you,” he said. “You’ve a long trip home.”

“Yes,
please, that would be great.” I followed him to the till. “You have an amazing
place.”

“Thank
you.”

“I
picked up a sundial last week, but I didn’t see you here.”

“I
don’t normally work on a Sunday, I leave it to a young man in the town who is
building his career in the antique world. I need one day of rest, but this week
he is away on his honeymoon.”

“How
lovely.”

“Very
lovely.” He began to wrap the mirror in tissue paper.

I
glanced over his shoulder. A large pin board was stuffed full of local notices
and adverts. One big sheet of paper with a picture of a pink ribbon made me
study it closer because beneath it were the words,
Hardon Manor’s Annual
Afternoon Tea
.

“What’s
that?” I asked.

He
turned. “This, Afternoon Tea at the Manor?” He nodded at the small poster.

“Yes.”

“It’s
an annual event hosted by a local family.”

I
smiled and resisted pointing out that I’d gathered that much. “I know Brent
Dawson,” I said. “He lives at the manor.”

“Oh,
Brent, gosh, he’s all grown up now but I’ve known him since he was a small
lad.”

“You
have?” I raised my eyebrows. “How come?”

“Well,
it might appear to be a big place, Henley, but it really isn’t, everyone knows
everyone and also,” he smiled, “I helped his late mother source some of her
beautiful furniture.”

“Yes,
there are some wonderful pieces in the house.”

“I miss
her,” he said, looking down again at the mirror he was wrapping. “Wonderful
woman.”

“So
I’ve heard. Brent speaks very fondly of her.”

“Of
course, he loved her very much, which is probably why he’s carried on with the
Afternoon Tea party in aid of cancer research. She held it every year, without
fail. It got so popular the last ten years she was alive it had to be invitation
only. People were travelling for miles around. She raised thousands, hundreds of
thousands for charity.” He paused and sighed. “Ironic isn’t it, that cancer
should be the thing to get her.”

I
swallowed. Poor Brent. Cancer was an evil thing for anyone to have in their
lives.

“It’s
marvelous,” he said, peeling off a strip of Sellotape, “that he’s still
managing to hold such an event when he’s so busy. Gone are the days he was
content to fish in the river, climb trees and walk his dog through the town.
Now he’s a high-flying businessman but…” He paused. “The apple never falls far
from the tree, he comes from good stock, people who cared and made a
difference, you can’t go far wrong with Brent Dawson.”

I
stared at the poster again. The event was in three weeks’ time. His divorce
hearing would be over by then. His weekend with Gabe would be a distant memory.
But would he still be in our lives?

A
sudden pang went through me. The thought of Brent being a one-weekend-stand
made me feel sick. It hurt a very deep part of me.

I
didn’t want him to soldier on alone, even though he could, was capable. I
wanted him with us. I had a vision of cocooning him within Gabe and I.
Protecting him from people who wanted to hurt him and from the sadness he
carried inside.

“And
that woman…” the shopkeeper said. “His wife. Well…” He glanced at my wedding
ring. “I’m sure you’re not that kind of wife. But my goodness me, she was a
gold digger if ever I saw one. Only met her the once, at the last Afternoon Tea
Mrs. Dawson was at, but the woman had her eye on every bit of silver in the
house.”

“Really?”

“Yes,
and now I hear they’re getting divorced. Thank the Lord, but I hope to heck
Brent has a damn good lawyer. She’s the sort who’ll fleece him for everything.
The last thing the people of Henley want is her moving into Hardon and swanning
around like she owns the place.”

“Oh,
that won’t happen.” I handed over seventy-five pounds in notes.

“You
sound pretty sure.” He opened the till. “She’s a wily one if ever I spotted
one. Cunning as a fox.”

“She
is, and also, I think the word is bitch.”

He
grinned. “My thoughts.” His smile dropped and he frowned. “So how come…?”

“My
husband is Brent’s lawyer; he’s one of the best in the business.”

He shut
the till and it pinged. “Well, young lady, you should have said and I wouldn’t
have driven such a hard bargain.”

“Well,
you still could offer me a discount.”

“Ahh,
too late, shut the till.” He winked. “Tell your husband good luck and if any
character witnesses are required I can sing Brent Dawson’s praises till the
cows come home, he’s salt of the Earth, the type of man you can rely on in a
crisis.”

I
picked up my mirror. “Yes, he is, and I’ll be sure to pass that on.” I smiled.
“It was nice meeting you…”

“Gerald.
Gerald Peters.”

“Hayley
Stone.”

“I hope
to see you around these parts again, Mrs. Stone. It’s been a pleasure, no, more
than that, a delight.” He grinned and handed me a small printed receipt.

I
wandered out of the shop full of thoughts of Brent as a small child and now as
the man he was. An upstanding member of the community, a charity fundraiser and
a seriously sexy guy who had wormed his way into both mine and Gabe’s heads. We
were getting more and more hooked on his charming brand of smooth
sophistication and sexy allure. It was as Gabe had said right at the beginning
of this whole thing: there was just something about him.

I
caught a cab back to Hardon Manor but this time instead of going through the
front door I ambled around the side, wondering if the men would be in the pool
again.

They
weren’t, the water was quiet and calm and the sunbed Gabe and I had enjoyed
together sat innocently in dappled shade awaiting the heat of the day.

A
repetitive thud-thud, caught my attention. I realized that they must still be
playing tennis. I was surprised, I’d thought that Gabe would have given up by
now and cried off.

The
bang-bang of the rackets and the ball was hard—they were having a good rally.
I decided to leave them to it, and with just a quick glance at the court from
the patio, I slipped into the cool of the house. I grabbed a can of cola from
the refrigerator then wandered up the stairs. It was strange how quickly the
manor had come to feel like home. Despite it’s grandeur, it had a nice
welcoming feel to it. It was as though it was crammed full of happy memories
and that ambience had soaked into the very fabric of the bricks and mortar.

I
slowed and enjoyed the space and the high ceilings. Our room was bright and
airy, the windows open and the covers on the bed peeled back. I shut the door,
kicked away my shoes then set the mirror on the floor by my overnight bag.

Again I
looked at my tatty fingernails. I’d just redo the varnish and then wander down
and see if the men wanted me to rustle up some lunch before Gabe and I headed
back to London.

Back to
London.

Away
from Brent.

I
opened the can of drink and took a slug. It was silly to be feeling this way.
Brent was Gabe’s crush not mine, for heaven’s sake.

I sat
at the dressing table and pulled my nail varnish remover and a cottonwool pad
from my makeup bag. After tipping cool liquid onto the pad, I began to rub my
nails. The familiar scent and action calmed me and I rubbed away at the red
polish, transferring it from nail to pad.

Suddenly,
the door burst open.

I
looked up, my heart skipping a beat.

Gabe
stood there, his face flushed and his eyes scanning the room.

He saw
me.

“Thank
Christ for that, you’re here.”

“Yes,”
I said, pausing with my fingers in the air. “Why, what’s the matter?”

“We
need to fuck,” Brent said, rushing up behind Gabe and placing his hands on his
shoulders.

“But we
couldn’t, not without you watching.” Gabe turned and shoved at the door. It
slammed shut.

He
grabbed Brent, rammed him to one side and pushed him up against the wall.

God,
really? I let my jaw fall open as Gabe propelled his body into Brent’s and
claimed his mouth. His hands skimmed Brent, feeling him over his tennis whites.
He ruffled his clothes, grabbed, squeezed and dragged at his t-shirt.

As it
flew to the side exposing Brent’s hard, tanned torso, Gabe groaned. I knew it
was him, I recognized the throaty quality of it.

Their
kissing was wild, animalistic, as if they were jostling for dominance over it.

Gabe
stepped backward. He pulled Brent with him, roughly. “Come here. Turn the hell
round.”

Brent
paused, briefly, stared at Gabe and then did as he’d requested.

Excitement
flooded me. Gabe was topping; this was new, unchartered territory. I could
hardly wait.

Gabe hauled
off his t-shirt and threw it. It landed on the floor near my feet. He then
stepped out of his shorts and boxers and irritably pulled at his shoes.

Brent
grabbed hold of one of the posts at the end of the bed. He was breathing fast
and his cheeks glowing pink. He was already hot from the tennis, and the ends
of his hair were a little damp and sticking to his neck.

Gabe
was frantically ripping open a condom—tearing at it with his teeth then
spitting out the tiny fragments of foil.

I
resumed removing my nail polish but didn’t shift my attention from them for a
second.

“Fucking
hell,” Gabe swore as he fumbled rolling on the condom.

“Hurry
the hell up,” Brent said, shoving his shorts and underwear to his knees and
exposing his ass cheeks.

Their energy
seemed to swirl around me and carry me with them. I was hot, my skin flushing,
and my stomach had clenched with eagerness for them to start, both for them and
for me as the observer.

Gabe
finished putting on the condom. He reached for the tube of lube and went quickly
back behind Brent. “More, bend over more,” he said as he shoved at Brent’s
shoulders, forcing him to place his hands on the bed and tip to a ninety degree
angle.

Gabe
lubed up his cock then tossed the tube away.

“Please…”
Brent said, jutting his ass toward Gabe. “Fucking hell…just do it.”

“It’s
coming,” Gabe said.

I
squirmed on my seat. I wore a short skirt and cotton knickers and I could feel
arousal heating my pussy.

Gabe
put his right hand on Brent’s buttock and dragged the flesh, exposing his hole.
“Oh, God, you are so going to get it,” he said, his voice tense. “Get ready.”

“I am
fucking ready.”

Their
impatience was palpable and it seemed to fill the room with electric tension.

Gabe
smoothed his finger over Brent’s anus.

“Just
fuck,” Brent said in a low growling tone and hanging his head down “Sod the
fingering, just fucking fuck.”

Gabe
sucked in a deep breath and bared his teeth. “You asked for it.” He lined his
cock up at Brent’s hole, ran his hands up Brent’s back and clasped his
shoulders.

“Yes…”
Brent said, locking his arms on the bed and bracing his legs. “Now.”

Gabe
forged in.

Brent
cried out, but Gabe kept on tunneling deeper.

“Ah,
yeah,” Gabe shouted.

“Jesus,
fuck…” Brent yelled, throwing his head back. “Fucking hell…”

Gabe’s biceps
bulged and his fingers paled where he was gripping Brent’s shoulders so tightly.
He jerked Brent back onto his cock, thrusting ever forward at the same time.

I
switched to my next nail—on automatic—and studied the way Gabe’s
buttocks had tensed. He had a small dent in the side. His lats, the long
muscles at the edges of his back, were ridged and flushed and his thighs thick
with straining muscle. He looked glorious burying his cock deeper and deeper into
Brent.

Brent
was groaning; he’d screwed his eyes up and his arms were shaking.

Gabe
reached full depth and his pubic hair mashed up against Brent’s ass.

I
tensed my own anus, thinking of what it felt like to have Gabe’s big cock enter
me there. I always needed some prep, but it seemed Brent hadn’t had the
patience for that and now he was toying with pain and pleasure.

“Damn,
you grip me so…much…” Gabe gasped.

“Give
me…more…” Brent moaned, reaching for his cock. “More, damn it.” He began to
wank, fast jerking movements that made his arm and shoulder twitch furiously.

I added
another splash of nail varnish remover onto my pad and switched to the other
hand, working without having to think as I watched Gabe pull out of Brent’s ass.
His cock looked impossibly big as it came into view and he shifted his hips
back until just the tip sat within the hoop of Brent’s sphincter.

“Ah,
yeah, I’ve dreamed of having you like this,” Gabe said, staring down at where
he joined with Brent. “Fucking awesome.”

“God, I
need you,” Brent said. “All of it, right on my hot spot.”

“It’s
here…” Gabe shut his eyes and slid back in, fast.

Again
Brent called out, the shout ending on a low moan.

“Take
it all,” Gabe said, withdrawing then slamming back in. “I’m gonna make you come
so good.”

The
energy cranked up a gear. Gabe withdrawing and steaming into Brent, all the
time holding Brent’s shoulders so he had to take whatever Gabe doled out.

The bed
shook and creaked and the curtains at the posts trembled with each of Gabe’s
thrusts. Gabe had never fucked me with such vigor, with such unharnessed
passion and abandon. It was fascinating to see him like this, not worrying
about my slighter frame and being an equal when it came to strength and
robustness with his partner.

“Ah,
yeah…” Gabe shouted, a feral look spreading on his face. “Fuck yeah…”

I
wasn’t sure if they even remembered I was in the room, but I didn’t care—watching
them, listening to them was incredible.

On and
on Gabe pounded. The pace seemed to increase with each lunge. Gabe was putting
all of his muscle power into his thrusts and grasping Brent so hard the skin on
Brent’s shoulders was now red and glowing.

“Oh…oh…don’t
fucking stop…it’s here…” Brent cried out. “Fuck…”

Gabe
gritted his teeth. He slipped his hands to Brent’s waist and clutched him
there.

“Ah,
yeah…” Brent shouted as Gabe stabbed at him harder than ever, his cock surging
in and out and his belly slapping up against Brent over and over.

Long ropes
of cum burst from Brent, each one dragging a yelp of delight from his throat.

“Come,
come…more…” Gabe yelled. He tipped his head to the ceiling, sucked in a deep
breath and froze. “Ahh…I’m coming…now…”

The
stillness of his release was a harsh contrast to his wild, abandoned fucking. It
was as if he just wanted to concentrate on the deliciousness of orgasm without
any other movements to distract him.

“Ah…”
he said again on an outward breath. “So fucking amazing.”

Brent
was jerking his cock. He’d dropped his head to the covers and his back had
become a downward slope.

Gabe
slid his cock almost out then smoothed back in. He blew out a breath and a
tremble snaked its way up his body. His abs were tense and his chest shiny with
sweat.

“That
was…wild,” he said, rubbing a circle in the small of Brent’s back. “Wild and
amazing.”

“You
can say that again,” Brent said, his voice muffled in the bedding.

“I want
to stay inside you,” Gabe said, easing out and in, his journey an easy ride now
Brent had loosened.

“Mmm…you
can.” Brent released his cock and his body seemed to sag with exhaustion.

But
Gabe kept a hold of him, gently sliding in and out of his ass and studying the
way Brent stretched around his shaft. “So sexy,” he murmured. “So fucking
sexy.”

I
finished removing my nail varnish and set the cottonwool aside. I reached for
the can and drank.

Would
one weekend be enough for Gabe? Sure, he’d lived out his fantasy, but would it
leave him hungry for more?

Watching
him now, I wasn’t sure. He seemed so lost in Brent, so utterly absorbed by him
and captivated by everything he did.

I
looked at Brent, his long body sated and coated in sweat. My hands itched to
touch him, to learn the texture of his skin and the contours of his muscles. I
could deny it no longer.

I
wanted Brent too.

Gabe
pulled out of Brent’s ass then walked to the bathroom with his sheathed cock
bobbing. He seemed a bit dazed so I left him to it, stood and went to the bed.

“Brent,”
I said quietly.

He
appeared to be sleeping.

“Mmm…”
he murmured. “What?”

“Are
you okay? That was…”

“Hard
and fast.” He kind of grinned. “And I’ve never been better.” He reached for his
boxers and shorts and dragged them up. He wore his tennis shoes but that didn’t
deter him from shifting up the bed and flopping his head onto a pillow.

I sat
on the edge. He had a dreamy expression and his stubble was thick and his hair
messy. He definitely had the just-fucked look.

“How
you coping, Hayley?” he asked, reaching for my hand.

“I’m
fine. More than fine. You and Gabe are incredible together.”

He
smiled again; it was a bit of a crooked grin but it just made him all the more
adorable. “I’m glad you’re okay, you’re pretty cool, you know?” He squeezed my
fingers. “And gorgeous.”

His
gaze connected with mine. The sleepy look vanished and the dark depths of his
pupils seemed to burn right into me.

I
pulled my hand back.

Fuck.

He
wanted me too. I wasn’t stupid. Desire was plain as day in his eyes. My husband
had just fucked him but still he wanted me.

This
was going to get really complicated.

“Hey,”
Gabe said, strolling naked from the bathroom. “All okay?”

“Yeah,”
Brent said, turning to him. “Might need a few minutes to recover from that,
though.”

Gabe chuckled,
bent and kissed my cheek. “Yeah, considerably more energetic than the tennis
and that was pretty full-on.”