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  “Tell me.”

  “You…” He struggles around his tongue. I want to laugh at him, but his concern is legit.

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Beth knows.” He licks his lips. “And that’s it. Uh… the PM asked me to help him with Ellie. Lend some hands, so to speak.”

  Fuck, that’s delicious. “I’m going to jack off to that later.”

  He glares at me. “It wasn’t like whatever you’re imagining.”

  “Ah. You were just being helpful? Mr. Kinky Helper Man? That doesn’t count. What was the last dirty thing you did for you?”

  His blush deepens. “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s shameful.”

  “And yet I told you anyway, so…” He nods towards his dick.

  He’s not wrong. It’s not what I asked for, exactly, but it was honest and open. I lick him with a broad, flat tongue. His taste is heady and still familiar after all these years. I suck just the head into my mouth and pull what I can get from from his slit onto my tongue.

  Fuck, my dick is chubbing up again. I want to jack his legs up to his knees and drill him so hard, but that would be too much for tonight.

  One thing at a time.

  “Tell me something else,” I whisper, my breath brushing against his cock. “Tell me what you would do if you weren’t so duty bound. If I ordered you to be a hedonist for a night.”

  “Ahh…” He swallows his cry and pumps his hips into my mouth. I’m not going to even pretend that I’ll deprive him of this. I’ll keep sucking because I love the taste of him. But I’m not going to change it up or add a hand or fingers until he fesses up.

  He’s not coming until I get something truly filthy in return.

  We all have them. Dirty, disgusting wants.

  What’s the point of a fantasy if it’s not utterly awful to say out loud? There’s nothing mind-blowing about that which you can voice without wanting to die a little on the inside.

  I wonder if Lachlan wants a dirty threesome of his own. I picture us dancing at a club. Taking someone home. More than one person.

  Lots of bodies.

  I want Lachlan in a pile of sweaty limbs. Mouths and hands all over him.

  But that’s my fantasy, and right now, this minute, I want him to admit to his.

  I slide back, giving the head a quick little flutter with the tip of my tongue while I use the V between my thumb and index finger to trap his sack up against the base of his cock.

  His frustrated groan goes straight to my dick.

  “Come on, Lachlan—I know you want to come. And all it’ll take is one dirty little fantasy. How hard can it be for you to share that with me when I’ve been balls-deep inside your body?”

  I lock my gaze with his and flick the tip of my tongue back and forth over that sensitive spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft, occasionally swiping up to lick away a drop of pre-come.

  As soon as he starts bucking his hips, I squeeze a little with my hand and pull my head back. “What’s so hard about one little confession? Who am I going to tell?”

  He shakes his head, and I loosen my grip on his cock slightly and go back to teasing him with my tongue until he’s close again.

  I could keep this up all night. And he knows it. I’ve done it before, and he didn’t love it. He took it because that’s what I wanted. Now he’s taking it because he’s not ready to give me what I want. Not yet, but he’s close.

  After two more trips to the edge, he finally gives in. His face, his body in that moment where he submits entirely to me—it’s beautiful.

  “Tell me.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut and balls his hands into fists. “I…want to see what it’s like…to…um…get topped by a woman.” Flopping against the back of the chair, he lets out a big rush of air.

  “Well done.” Reaching up, I grab him by the back of the neck and pull him forward. I take his mouth hard, my tongue pressing deep. I’m proud of him for opening up, making himself vulnerable to me. His submission was hard won tonight, and now it’s time for me to reward him for his bravery.

  Releasing his lips, I lower my head and tease that spot that makes him crazy before taking his cock deep into my mouth. I love the way he moans when I take him into my throat. I slide back up his shaft, swirl my tongue around the head, then straight back down. Another long trip up, a swirl of the tongue and then I let loose.

  Tightening my grip at the base of his cock, I slide up and down his shaft hard and fast, varying the depth. Sometimes shallow, sometimes all the way down.

  It’s not long before his breaths come faster and his hips start jerking.

  He spurts hard against the back of my throat, and I swallow every drop. Even after he stops pulsing and slips out of my mouth, I stay on my knees for him, my head pressed against the hard flat of his belly.

  But it’s not for him at all. It’s for me.

  I don’t want to step away from him. I don’t want to watch him shut down and send me away. So I stay right where I am until my heartbeat returns to normal. Then I stand up without looking at him.

  “There’s probably a baseball game on,” I say, not giving him space to tell me no. “Let’s finish our pizza.”

  8

  Beth

  Saturday morning brings another good morning text, but this time it’s not from Hugh.

  Lachlan: I got your letter.

  Okay, it’s not the warmest first-thing-in-the-morning text. It also is missing two critical words.

  Beth: Good morning to you, too.

  Lachlan: That’s what I meant to say.

  Beth: I knew that.

  Lachlan: Ha. I’m free later, by the way.

  Beth: Okay. Good. Do you want to get coffee?

  He takes a few minutes to reply. It wasn’t that challenging a question, really, although when he answers, I realize he was probably struggling over what he really wanted to say.

  Lachlan: Maybe your place would be better.

  I punch my fist into the air. Yes. Good. No, better than good. Exce-fucking-llent.

  Beth: After dinner? Around seven?

  Lachlan: See you then.

  If I thought his coming over was a sign of wavering principle, though, I’d have been wrong.

  He sets a clear tone for the evening as soon as he walks in the door. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “I disagree.” Three days later, that kiss is still zinging through me. How could that be a mistake? Except he’d dropped me like a hot potato.

  His gaze drops to my mouth. He wants to do it again, and I agree. He should. But he doesn’t want to, as well, and I don’t do complicated and reluctant.

  If I did complicated and reluctant, I’ve have dragged Lachlan into a storage closet months ago.

  “Okay, so you shouldn’t have kissed me. Fine.” I step back. “But that doesn’t feel like the end of the conversation to me.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s not.”

  “Then come on in.”

  I give him the most cursory of tours that he missed on his first visit—“This is the living room, that’s the kitchen, have a seat on the couch.” He does as instructed as I cross to my bookshelf that doubles as a bar.

  I don’t really have any stiff drinks, but I have some maple whiskey liqueur that will do a decent job of dousing any embarrassment. I pour two glasses, an ounce or so in each. If he doesn’t want one, I’ll have two.

  He takes it and tosses half back immediately.

  I don’t know if that should make me feel better, but it does.

  But that relief quickly disappears when he levels a serious look at me and cuts right to the chase. “Hugh and I have a history.”

  “I know you worked together…” But I let that hang out there, because I’m starting to figure out it’s gotta be more complicated than that. “Did you…I mean, was it like with you and Gavin and Ellie?”

  Lachlan goes pale beneath his tan. Yeah, I went straight to the thing we just don’t talk abou
t.

  He had a threesome with our boss. I had the misfortune of overhearing about it when Gavin and Ellie had a fight.

  Ellie told me…details. Unnecessary details, because I don’t have any kind of claim on Lachlan, but enough to know it wasn’t really about him.

  “No, nothing like that,” he says quietly. “But I guess I owe you more of an explanation about that incident, too.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” I take a swallow of my own drink. “I just want to clear the air between us so we can move forward.”

  “As friends.”

  “As whatever we both want,” I say firmly. I haven’t ruled out the idea of more kissing.

  Now that I’ve brought up the threesome, I wouldn’t rule that out, either, although that would require them liking each other enough to be in the same room for sex. Although there is a certain chemistry between them that is…spectacular. Just highly explosive.

  “That day with Gavin and Ellie…that was just the one time. And it wasn’t much more than what you’ve seen at Max’s house.” Now he’s blushing.

  “I’ve seen a lot there,” I murmur. “Not that you’ve let me do much of it myself.”

  “Those hockey players don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “And you do?” I wave my hand. “No, don’t answer that. I think we’ve gone off in a weird direction.”

  He gives me a long, confusing look. “Maybe we need to go there. It’s just that I’m way out of practice on this. It’s easy to suggest to others, to help others with, but actually pretty hard to negotiate for myself.”

  That’s more sharing in a couple of sentences than he’s done in the last year. I move closer, but I still don’t sit next to him. I pace back and forth, slowly, as I sip my drink and process what he’s telling me. To the best of my knowledge, Lachlan hasn’t dated in a while. He may have had sex here or there, but where I thought I was observing a tightly wound up guy all these months, I was just really seeing a monk-by-choice.

  Why did he make that choice? “So…what is this between us, then? Some kind of kink thing that I don’t understand yet?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I know that I look at you and I want you, but I’ve got this other stuff in my past that confuses that in a big way.”

  “Like what?”

  “My history with Hugh.”

  It hits me like a ton of bricks. He’d already said that, more than once, but I’d mis-filed it. “Oh.”

  He’s got a history with Hugh. All the while I was lusting after him. But I won’t feel like a fool. No. There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to someone.

  Or two someones. Even if they maybe really want each other. I lick my lips and try to be cool. “So you’re gay?”

  He lets out a strangled laugh. “No.”

  “Are you…” I trail off. I don’t want to play a game here, some fishing expedition for information that might not be any of my business. “I didn’t even think you like Hugh.”

  He laughs.

  I don’t see how it’s funny. “You glower and snarl and act like you hate him.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I think I do.”

  Ah. “So you like him and you don’t like him. That’s positively high school.”

  He rolls his head from one side to the other and I hear a quiet pop. I ignore all the complicated stuff that remains unsaid and put my glass down, then move around the back of my sofa to stand behind him.

  I put my hands on his shoulders and make a shushing sound when he protests. “Let me. You’re…tense.”

  He laughs. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Mmm. You’re welcome to talk about that if you want.”

  A sigh is the only answer I get at first. That’s okay. If you want is what I said and I mean it. I tug his jacket off and smooth my hands over his shirt-covered muscles.

  He finally speaks, low and quiet. “This isn’t how I pictured any of this going. You and me, I mean.”

  Regret rolls over in my tummy, because maybe if we’d acted sooner, if I’d opened my mouth and issued an invite last fall, over the winter…

  But I didn’t. And maybe that was for a reason.

  Plus this is Lachlan. No matter what, I think I love him. I want to be his friend. His face is the first one I look for each morning and the last I seek out before heading home at night.

  I roll my thumb along a knot in one of his neck muscles. He has more than most men, it’s hard to name them all. And I tell myself to hold my tongue, but that’s a total fail. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  I swear he growls under his breath, but he holds still as I work my fingers from his neck down to his shoulders and back again. He rolls his head, stretching his neck out, and I let my fingertips glide onto the bare stretch of skin above his shirt collar.

  Smooth, warm, and taut, his skin stretches tight over flexing tendon and muscle. He doesn’t move, so I let myself explore further, to the sharp edge of his hair cut, short and cropped in the back, fading up to a bit longer on top.

  Precise, just like the man himself.

  Controlled.

  Whatever history they share, Hugh’s arrival has thrown Lachlan for a loop. I should step back and let them sort that out.

  Instead I play with his hairline and let myself imagine touching him in a more intimate way. Exploring more skin than the few inches above his collar.

  Hearing that tight, reserved grunt because I’m taking him deep into my mouth and he’s throwing his head back—

  Lachlan’s hand closes around my wrist and I freeze.

  “Come here,” he says quietly, tugging me around the sofa. His long arm doesn’t let me go, not even for a second, and my pulse is pounding by the time I settle next to him again.

  9

  Lachlan

  She curls up beside me on the couch and I gently stroke my thumb over the back of her hand as I gather my thoughts.

  I need to get this right.

  “Hugh came to my house last night,” I finally say. And our history became something quite present tense again. Hard to say that out loud.

  “He told me he was planning to get together with you this weekend.” She says it without any sign of irritation or jealousy, and some of the guilt I’ve been carrying slips away. Maybe they’ve been doing a better job of sharing than I have.

  Although I wouldn’t put it past Hugh to mislead her a bit. Innocently so, I’m sure he’d think.

  “We didn’t just eat pizza.” My gut churns as I prepare for her reaction to my almost confession. She deserves honesty, but I don’t know how much detail to get into. “I want to be up front with you about what happened.”

  Her eyes go wide, but at the same time, the corners of her lips tug up a little, and then a lot. She leans in, her smile broad and her eyes soft. “Lachlan, it’s fine. I don’t need the particulars.”

  I search her face. She’s heard what I’ve said tonight and she’s not blinking. Not wavering. She’s still right beside me, leaning in. Even though I still feel like I owe her an explanation, I take her at her word because I’ve waited too long for another taste of her.

  Turning more fully towards her, I cup her cheek in my hand and I brush my lips over hers.

  She opens for me and I lick my way into her mouth. She tastes like the liqueur we’ve both been drinking. Right now, maple might be my new favourite flavour.

  As I slide my fingers through her silky tresses, I deepen the kiss…but not as deep as I want to go. She deserves sweet and gentle, and I want to be the one to give it to her.

  She twists her body, sliding her leg over mine until she’s straddling me, a welcome, soft weight in my lap that feels just right.

  Her mouth is demanding as she rubs herself up and down my jean-clad cock. It’s an exquisite torture, but this isn’t about my pleasure. Not tonight. Beth’s enthusiasm is a precious gift I intend to reward, handsomely—but there’s that damn voice in my head reminding me we need to talk.

  Tangling my fingers in her hair, I hold
her in place as I ease away from her. “Beautiful, I want you more than my next breath, but I don’t want to fuck this up by taking things so far you’ll end up with regrets.”

  She presses her fingers to my lips and gives me a no-nonsense look that makes my dick throb. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Don’t hold back. I want it all.”

  Then she’ll have it, damn it. Skimming my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, I pull it up and off.

  I release the front clasp of her bra and slide it down her arms, exposing the most glorious pair of breasts I think I’ve ever seen. I lean forward and suck a nipple into my mouth as I cup her other breast.

  She resumes her maddening grind in my lap, rubbing herself harder and faster. If I let her go on much longer, I’m going to come in my jeans.

  Grabbing her by the hips, I hold Beth tight to my body and rise from the sofa. I don’t bother to ask where her bedroom is—the options tend to be limited in apartments like this, and I’m right. I find it on the first guess.

  I lay her on the bed and immediately turn my attention to getting her all the way naked. Her jeans are a bit on the snug side, so it takes a little effort for me to shimmy them down her legs. But damn, is it ever worth it.

  Live, naked Beth exceeds my fantasies by many orders of magnitude, and I take a moment to appreciate the view.

  I pull my recently-added emergency in-case-of-Beth condom from my wallet and toss it on the bed before stripping down.

  She smiles at me, slow and sultry. An invitation she doesn’t need to issue twice. Taking hold of her ankles, I ease them apart and kneel in the space between.

  She’s wet and glistening. I stroke my fingers irreverently over her outer lips, where her soft skin meets delicate curls. She shivers as I stroke her, parting her folds so I can find more of that slippery wetness.

  “Tell me what you like,” I say, my voice catching. I can’t wait to taste her, but I don’t want to rush, either.

  “That feels good.” She takes a deep breath as I delve deeper, gathering moisture with the tip of my finger and swirling it up to her clit.