Read Menage Online

Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #General

Menage (4 page)

Now she spread her silver-tipped fingers across the surface of her desk. Marianne had gone Gothic lately: white face, ink-black hair, skin-tight leather. She carried it off with
elan
, one of the few women who could without looking like death warmed up.

At my continued silence, she pursed her lips - her bee-stung, scarlet lips. 'I suppose you don't want to hear about my encounter with Keith, then.'

In spite of myself, I was interested. 'Our Keith, from out front? Marianne, he's barely eighteen.'

'Nineteen,' she corrected with a Cheshire cat grin, 'and very hormonal.'

My glance flashed around the room looking for signs of coitus - semen smears, lipstick on the wall.

'Not here, silly.' Her eyes sparkled. ‘I bumped into him in

Rittenhouse
Square
last night. He was cycling; I was strolling. We stopped to chat. It turns out, he's the one who's been "borrowing" my nice Italian shoes.'

Grabbing my chair, I rolled it to the front of her desk and sat. 'He's a transvestite?'

'No, no.' She waved her silver claws. 'Just a foot fetishist. He says I've got the best arches he's ever seen. I never knew how inspiring that kind of admiration could be.' Her sooty lashes dipped with pleasure. 'You know the wall behind the big wading fountain in the park?'

I nodded.

'After I let him know his confession didn't disgust me, he parked his bike there and set me on the seat. He swung his leg over the bar, facing me, and pulled off my shoes. First he massaged my feet,
ver-ry
slowly. Oh, it was nice, especially since I could see how much he enjoyed it. His hands were shaking. He could hardly sit still. He was wearing those stretchy biker's shorts.' She smiled creamily at me. 'No jockstrap and hard as a rock in about six seconds. I could see everything - every vein, every ridge. He has the biggest balls I've ever seen: each one a handful, you know?'

I didn't, but I could imagine. I pressed down hard on the cushion of my chair. Why did I let Marianne do this to me? 'And then what?'

'Then he licked me. Not just the toes, but everything -heel, ankle, the long bones on the top. I never knew my feet had so many lovely nerves, and every one connected to my pussy. I tell you, I was ready to screw the bike seat.'

'Did he want to screw?'

'Do ducks quack? Fortunately, I was wearing my
favourite
black mini-skirt, the one with the studs up the side. He pushed it up a bit and whipped out his Swiss Army knife.' She laughed and tossed her straight black

hair. 'I love a man who carries his own tools. Anyway, he sliced the crotch of my underwear and pushed real close so no one could see what we were doing - except kissing, of course. He was a nice kisser, too, lots of tongue action. I pushed those
lycra
shorts down until he sprang out and then I slid straight down on him. It was nice, Kate, hot and strong.' She fanned herself. 'Young men do get so desperate.'

'Especially when they're acting out their fantasies,’ I said, thinking of Sean and his tube of lubricant.

'Exactly. He didn't take but a second to come. I was disappointed, until I
realised
he was just warming up. "Please don't go," he said, when I was about to climb off. "When someone gets me this hot, once is never enough." As you might imagine, I was happy to oblige. The second time did last forever. We had to be careful, with all those people walking by. We couldn't thrust really hard - just little shakes and rolls with that bike seat digging into me the whole time. Deliciously frustrating. He had to grind his thumb over me before I could come, but when I did, I thought the top of my head would fly off. Then we adjourned to my car.'

To your car?' Marianne owned a classic Volkswagen Beetle.

'He wasn't going to make it all the way to my house. I'm telling you, Kate, the boy was pneumatic. The back seat was cramped, but - hey - I'm flexible. He took me twice before I drove him back to campus. He's a student at the
University
of
Pennsylvania
.' She tapped her nose with one finger. 'I wonder if he knows your lodgers.'

I sensed visions of orgies dancing through her head.
Alarm bells rang in mine.
Despite my fondness for Marianne, I had no desire to share my sex life with her, or my new playmates.

'Sean and Joe are postgraduate students,' I said. 'Keith is only in his second year.'

Marianne shrugged. 'Just a thought. No need to get miffed.'

Her indifference was feigned, of course. If I gave her

the least encouragement, she'd have us all in bed within the hour - though my presence was probably optional. I didn't know what she'd do if she discovered I'd lived out her fantasy already. Marianne had a competitive streak as wide as the
Ben
Franklin
Bridge
.

I pulled my chair back to my walnut roll-top desk and started slitting correspondence - bills, authors' fliers, a postcard from my
favourite
publisher's rep. Sorting them like a robot, I thought: Better make sure she doesn't find out. Otherwise, I'll never hear the end of it.

Sean wandered in at
, carrying a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums. I thanked God Marianne was out to lunch.

'For you,' he said, then turned full circle to view the shop.

I watched him from behind the counter. Joe had dropped by many times, but never Sean. Two college girls
pinkened
as his gaze passed over them. He didn't seem to notice, which worried me. Was his attraction to me a big exception for him? If it was, our trio could break up awfully quickly. I wasn't sure how Joe would react to that. Joe was very loyal. He might give me up, too, if he thought his friend wasn't happy.

"This is nice,’ Sean said, his scrutiny complete. 'If I were a woman, I'd shop here.'

'If you were a man looking to pick up girls, you might shop here, too,’ I said, then blushed for what I might have implied. 'Um, what are the flowers for?'

He grinned. 'What do you think? They're a thank you from both of us - and an apology. We meant to wake up early and, you know, fit one more in, but I'm afraid neither of us is a morning person.'

This must mean my standing breakfast date with Joe was more of a tribute than I'd known. Annoyed with my pleasure at the discovery - for hadn't I promised to keep things light? - I reached under the counter for a vase. They're beautiful. Are you on your way to class or can you stay awhile?'

My invitation brought him up short. For a second, he looked like a wallflower who couldn't believe he'd been asked to dance. I felt good for asking, if a little worried for feeling good.

'I can stay,’ he said.

'Good. I'll show you around.'

I gave him the grand tour: new books, used books, the coffee lounge on the balcony. We finished in the back room. He headed straight for the old-fashioned rolling ladder and climbed to the top. The kid in me took over.

'Hold on,' I said, and shoved him the full length of the wall.

He whooped in delight. 'I love these things. My mother was a librarian. She never let me play with them.'

'She probably wasn't allowed to.'

He nodded, his face shadowed with conflicting emotions. How complicated people are once you start to know them. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'Does that door lock?' he asked.

'Yes, but-'

Without waiting for me to finish, he clambered down and latched it.

'A customer might want to get in,' I said, but the determination in his face weakened my resistance, and my knees.

He plastered his back to the door. 'Come here.'

I closed the distance between us and waited. His wavy gold hair swooped over one eye. Long in front and short in back, the style suited his sullen, bad-boy looks. Accountancy student or not, Sean had the face of a handsome day
labourer
. With his rugged features, his full, sensual lips and heavy-lidded eyes, he looked like a man who'd drink too much on weekends, keep his wife popping out babies, and shout obscenities during sporting events.

Apart from a fondness for obscenities, none of it was true.

'I haven't kissed you yet,' he said. 'He has, but I haven't.'

I stroked the side of his face. He wasn't more than an inch taller than me. 'Don't kiss me because Joe has. Kiss me because you want to, if you want to.'

'If I want to -' He captured my hand and dragged it down his black t-shirt. His body felt warm - too warm. My fingers snagged on his waistband, then settled over the impressive swell behind his buttoned flies. He covered my hand and pressed hard. His erection barely gave. My pulse shifted into high gear. Maybe Joe wasn't the only one who wanted to get me alone.

'Now, does that feel like I don't want to kiss you?'

'If you're trying to prove something -'

He cut me off with an impatient
tut
. 'I don't have to prove anything. I sleep with people I like, people who impress me. I admit they're usually men but, hell, sometimes lightning strikes in funny places.' He squeezed my hand over his cock again. 'I'm not arguing with
ol
' Willy here. He knows what he likes and he never lies.'

"That's very flattering but -'

'Be quiet,' he said, and yanked my head to his for a kiss.

His tongue pressed directly home, subduing mine with force and expertise. His hand clamped the back of my neck, steel-hard and work-rough. Something flowered in me at this treatment, something secret and dark. I struggled against the kiss for the sheer pleasure of inspiring more displays of mastery. His arm tightened on my waist. He lifted me, turned, and shoved me back against the door. The weight of his body trapped me in place, and the strength of his legs. He ground his hardness into my softness. Wanting more, I slung one leg high on his hip, clamped both hands on his adorable butt, and rocked back.

'Like that, bitch?' His teeth nipped my earlobe. Though the name shook me, I laughed at him. His hazel eyes narrowed. 'I'll make you beg,' he said.

'Yeah?' I blew a stream of air through his fringe. 'You've got fifteen minutes to prove it. Marianne will be back in twenty and I'm not in the mood to share.'

He flashed his teeth at that, half grin, half alpha wolf display. Before I could wonder what he'd do next, he attacked my side zip and yanked my snug yellow trousers to my ankles.

'Hands and knees,' he said. When I stubbornly shook my head, he dragged me to the rolling ladder and manhandled me into the position he wanted. He was so powerful he didn't even have to hurt me to do it. He simply moved me as he pleased and I wasn't strong enough to stop him.

Panting with excitement, I grabbed the second rung. Joe couldn't protect me now. Sean would take me any way he wanted, as hard as he wanted, as fast as he wanted. He pushed my knees wider with the tip of his construction boot. My bottom felt chilled, exposed. A drop of sexual moisture ran down my inner thigh. I knew he must be staring at it.

'I'll give you one thing,’ he said. "That is one prize-winning, wet-and-ready
arse
. Too bad I haven't got time to spank it.'

'You and whose army?'

This time he laughed at me. I heard buttons popping, foil tearing. I turned my head. He'd shoved the flaps of his jeans down past his bare hips - he wore no underwear - and was slathering lubricant up and down his thinly sheathed prick. His motions were quick, but not so quick he couldn't enjoy them.

'Eyes front!' The heel of his boot reinforced the whispered order, pressing my buttocks hard enough to shock.

'Fifteen minutes,' I reminded him, defiant to the last.

'Eleven. And don't think you aren't mine already.'

He dropped to his knees behind me, surrounding me in warmth like cocoa on a cold day. He didn't remove my short jacket or my blouse: merely shoved my silky shirt-tails to my waist. Considering I was bared like a surgery patient, I couldn't believe how comfortable I felt.

Customers trod the aisles mere feet away. I heard the floorboards creaking under their shoes. A man I scarcely knew was about to initiate me into a potentially painful sex act and I'd never felt safer in my life.

'I must be losing my mind,’ I said.

'No, babe, you're about to find it.' Sean laced our fingers together around the ladder rung. He cupped my pussy from the front and rotated my sex against my pubic bone. If anything, the rough handling made me wetter. His fingers slid through my juices.

Take a deep breath,’ he said. 'Remember how good this felt last night.'

I willed myself to relax. His hand left my sex to pull one cheek from his target. An unaccustomed draught cooled my flesh before his cock-head probed me, slick and hot. I arched my back and it pressed inside. His sudden exhalation burned my neck, but he didn't speak, just grasped my hip and pushed again.

'Halfway there,' he said and I thought, my God, half is plenty. The pressure was incredible - not painful exactly, but alarming. Was he really going to fit?

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