Not Until You Part II, Page 2

  I gave a little smile. “Definitely. But even knowing it was him who was in the wrong, it’s left me a little gun-shy.”

  The door tried to shut, but Foster pressed the button again. “You have to know that we would never disrespect you that way, and I kind of wish I had the address of the jerkoff who did that to you, because I’d like to pay him a visit and teach him some manners. But beyond that assurance, is there anything else you need to feel more comfortable? We can take things as slow as you want.”

  I looked up at him again, the rest of the story hovering on my lips. I knew I should spill it. It was the right thing to do. But if I told him the whole truth, it would ruin everything. It wasn’t worth the risk. He said he liked a girl who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. I could do that. I knew what I hoped for tonight, had heard all I needed to know listening to Foster through my thin wall. Now I just had to say it aloud. I flexed my fingers, trying to shed the nerves. “I don’t want to make any decisions tonight. I need you two to take over. Tell me what to do. I don’t want to be asked each step of the way.”

  Foster’s shift in expression was like dark falling over snow-covered fields, icy calm and inescapable. His nostrils flared as he inhaled a slow breath. “Cela, are you sure you know what you’re asking?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  His eyes stayed locked on mine, unblinking, intense. “Do you know what a safe word is?”

  I couldn’t even shake my head, it was as if his gaze was holding me in some suspended state. “No.”

  “If either of us does something that you want to stop immediately, you call this word and we’ll stop, no questions asked,” he said, his voice disconcertingly calm. “That’s the only power I require you to keep. Everything else, Pike and I will gladly take tonight.”

  A heavy shiver worked its way through me, the thought of really surrendering everything to these two guys was a dark fantasy I’d barely had the nerve to admit to myself. “Okay.”

  He stepped to the right, putting his back against the straining elevator doors and held out his hand. “Your safe word is tequila.”

  “Tequila,” I repeated. I looked down at his open palm. This was going to be my last decision of the night. And it was one that felt more right than anything had in as long as I could remember. I took Foster’s hand, then reached back for Pike’s with my other. Pike smiled and laced his fingers with mine.

  I left my free will in the elevator and watched as the doors closed, whisking it away.

  Now I was theirs.

  Chapter 7

  Foster backed his way through the hotel room’s doorway, tugging me and Pike with him. Before the door even clicked shut, Foster’s mouth was on mine, his hand cupping the back of my neck, his tongue exploring and stroking. The kiss was more fervent than the one in the club, more purposeful—controlled violence. I could almost feel restraint vibrating off of him, as if one popped button and all the passion I suspected lurked behind that calm facade would rush out like a levee break.

  I looped my arms around Foster’s neck, holding on and losing myself to the moment. Pike’s hands pressed against my hips as he trailed kisses along my shoulder. The two men’s scents swirled around me, and my body’s engine kicked into gear, warming me in all the right places.

  “Take off her dress, Pike,” Foster directed as he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes like blue fire. “I wanted to take my time with you, angel. But that’ll have to be later. I’ve spent too many nights listening through the wall to those soft sounds you make when you come, imagining what you look like when you climax. I’m not willing to wait another moment to see all of you.”

  The proclamation was like being doused with hot water, sending need cascading over me. Pike’s fingers tugged my zipper down in the back, his lips following the track of skin exposed. After planting a kiss on the dip at my tailbone, he straightened and eased the dress down and off me. The material fell to my feet, leaving me standing between them in only my lacy panties and bra. Near naked that fast. No backing out now. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

  The hotel room’s air-conditioning was blasting, but the cool air did nothing to ease my burning skin as Foster’s gaze trailed over me. “It’s a crying shame that you’ve been hiding under scrubs all this time.” He cupped the side of my face, running a thumb over my cheek and meeting my eyes. “You’re stunning, Cela.”

  I looked down, my hair falling forward. I’d been told I was pretty before. But never before had those words sounded so genuine, so stripped down. It was almost as if Foster hadn’t wanted the compliment to escape, but couldn’t help himself.

  Pike stepped around from behind me and smiled a smile that unwound the last tangle of tension inside me. Foster’s intensity had always drawn me, had laced my fantasies, but Pike’s sexy boldness brought out my confidence. Shame had no place here with these two. They weren’t here to judge me on my sexual prowess or experience. And they’d never laugh me. They wanted me. And I wanted them. That was all that mattered tonight.

  I’d figure out the rest as I went along.

  “Tell us what’s on your mind, gorgeous,” Pike said. “What’s making you bite your lip?”

  I paused, not even realizing what I’d been doing and released my lip from beneath my teeth. “I’m not sure what to do next.”

  The curve of Foster’s mouth filled with illicit promise. “Close your eyes, angel.”

  I let my eyelids fall shut and clasped my hands in front of me. Vulnerability rippled through me, but I focused on my breath, counting the inhales and exhales. I could sense Pike and Foster standing there, watching me. Then there was the faint rasp of cloth, movement around me. Smooth palms touched my shoulders and squeezed. “Walk forward, Cela. I won’t let you run into anything.”

  Foster guided me with gentle nudges, his big body pressing against my back, until my knees brushed against something—some piece of furniture. He spun me, staying behind me, and then his fingers were touching the hook of my bra. I sucked in a breath as the front clasp gave way, exposing my nipples to the bite of cool air. My hands moved upward, an automatic shielding reaction. But Foster’s hands were around my wrists in a flash, pulling my arms down to my sides.

  “Gorgeous,” Pike said from somewhere in front of me, the reverent tone making my insides go liquid. “Take off the rest. It’s my turn to make you moan like you did in the cab.”

  My pulse jumped, the suggestion almost enough to send me halfway there already. Foster released my wrists and the couch springs squeaked faintly as he took a seat behind me. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, thankful for the alcohol I’d had tonight. I wasn’t drunk, but there was definitely some liquid courage still pumping in my veins. After one fortifying breath, I slid my panties down my thighs.

  When I reached my heels, I had to balance carefully to slip the underwear off, leaving me bent and exposed to Foster. A rumbled groan sounded behind me, and then Foster’s hands were spanning my hips. “Stay just like that.”

  I halted in place, one hand on the floor to keep my balance—not that I ever felt balanced around these two. Foster’s thumbs traced along the cleft of my backside, making me momentarily tense, and then ventured lower, finding the lips of my sex and spreading me. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting hard to be still and not let my knees buckle. Then the hot, wet flat of his tongue was on me, tasting my heat and launching a bottle rocket of sensation through every one of my nerve endings.

  “Oh, God,” I said on a sharp breath. My hips tilted upward, putting me teetering on my toes, but there was no way I was going to let myself fall and miss a second of the blissful sensation that was radiating outward from the caress of Foster’s skillful mouth.

  The tip of Foster’s tongue teased my clit and then ran along my crease, his thumbs keeping me exposed to him. My eyelids squeezed even tighter. Only one other guy had ever attempted to go down on me, and clearl
y he’d been a novice because it’d felt nothing like this. And though I’d become quite proficient in taking care of my own needs, feeling Foster’s tongue against me wasn’t even on the same continent as that sensation. This was just . . . guh.

  His breath was hot against me, his stubble rasping along my tender skin. “So sweet, angel. I could spend all night tasting you, feeling you come against my mouth.”

  My back bowed, my body aching for him to do just that. But instead of continuing, he shifted away, caressing the outsides of my thighs.

  “But I’m being selfish,” he said, a dark smile hiding in his tone. “Stand up.”

  After taking a second to make sure I’d heard correctly, I pushed myself to stand. A head rush and the pulsing need between my legs sent me swaying on my feet. “Whoa.”

  Foster’s hands kept me steady. “Sit back on me, angel. I think it’s time we reward Pike’s patience, don’t you?”

  I gulped at the thought, anticipation spinning in me, but managed a nod. “Yes.”

  A quick pinch at my waist made me gasp, then Foster’s smooth, commanding voice: “If you want me to be in charge, I expect you to call me by my name or sir. Do you understand?”

  The command made my thoughts stutter, trip over each other. Sir? The idea should’ve been laughable, but for some reason it made something snake low and hot in my belly. I swallowed past my parched vocal cords. “Yes . . . sir.”

  He kissed the spot he’d pinched. “Good girl. Now sit back and let us enjoy you.”

  Good girl. Those were the most ironic words of the night. It was who I’d been all my life, but right now I was as far removed from that label as I’d ever been—uncharted waters. I kept my eyes closed and let Foster guide me in between his spread thighs.

  He looped my arms above me, securing them around his neck, and then hooked his ankles with mine, parting my legs and opening me to Pike. I may have ceased breathing.

  “You can open your eyes now, doc,” Pike said, his voice devoid of the playfulness that usually colored it.

  I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, totally exposed and vulnerable. But something about being held in place, Foster’s hard body beneath me, had everything in me pulsing and my body aching. This is what I’d asked for—the absence of choice. Knowing that they were deciding the moves took away some of the awkwardness that would’ve swamped me otherwise.

  I lifted my lashes, colliding head on with Pike’s heated stare. He’d stripped off his shirt, gifting me with the sight of all that tawny muscle and tattooed skin. I wanted to touch him, to explore, to taste, but as if invisible bonds had wrapped around my wrists, I kept my hands locked above me, clasping Foster’s neck.

  Pike took a step closer, and my gaze drifted downward, tracing the hard line of the erection pressing against the front of his jeans. My sex clenched, my body aching to know what he’d feel like inside. I knew it would hurt tonight, was prepared for that. But the fear was quickly fading to a distant beat in the back of my brain. Need trumped that anxiety the moment Foster had put his mouth on me.

  Pike rubbed his palm over the bulge. “That’s what you do to me, doc. What you do to us.” He reached out and caressed my knee. “I could get off just seeing you like this.” He knelt down in front of me. “But I’d rather do more than look.”

  Foster adjusted his legs and pulled my thighs further apart, spreading me for Pike. I glanced down my body, seeing the hard points of my nipples, the glistening pink of my sex. Pike blew a gentle breath over my damp skin, sensitizing everything and making me shiver. “So wet and pretty already.”

  Then he lowered his head and put his mouth on me—hot, wet, and maddeningly gentle. I arched against Foster, and his sexy grunt pressed against my ear. “Don’t let go yet, angel. Let Pike tease you.”

  “But,” I gasped as Pike circled his tongue around my swollen nub, licking and laving. Everything inside me already felt ready to blow to bits. This was so much more than my own fingers or even my vibrator. “God, I’ve never . . .”

  “Have patience,” Foster murmured. “It’ll make it better. I promise you’re going to get to come. Many times.”

  I watched Pike’s pale blond head rock between my thighs, the sight one of the most erotic I’d ever experienced. He lifted his gaze, as if sensing my stare, and glided the flat of his tongue along my folds while holding the eye contact. I shuddered hard, the link almost too intense.

  Then he lowered his head again, and two fingers slid inside my soaked channel. The fit was deliciously snug. I whimpered and undulated against his hand and the intensifying pressure of his tongue. A surge of need built behind the dam inside me, pressing against the resistance I was trying to hold strong. My lids fell closed, and my hips began a rhythmic, involuntary rocking.

  “Ah, angel, that’s right. Fuck his mouth. Take what you need. God, you’re beautiful when you let go.”

  Foster’s dirty whispered words were a soundtrack from my most private fantasies. All I could do was moan in response, the canting of my hips picking up pace. Then Foster’s hands were cupping my breasts, holding me in place.

  “You want to go over, baby?” he asked, his voice raspy with grit.

  “Yes. Please . . .”

  “Beg Pike. Tell him what you need,” Foster commanded. He pinched my nipples, a swift erotic pain that made me cry out and go desperate for release.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, beyond embarrassment or shame. “Please, Pike. I need to come. Please.”

  Pike groaned and then his fingers were curling inside me, hitting a spot I’d heard of but had never been able to find myself. The world splintered behind my eyelids. I bowed off Foster, and my thighs clamped around Pike’s head as orgasm enveloped me. My cries sounded unfamiliar to my own ears—the abandon as foreign as the emotions coursing through me.

  I rode the wave of sensation until I was panting and writhing, edgy with both satisfaction and the need for more. Need for them. Pike eased back once I’d loosened my headlock on him, then he was climbing up the length of me. His mouth met mine in a lust-filled haze. My arms released Foster’s neck as the taste of Pike and my own arousal filled our kiss. Foster continued to tease my breasts, his hands trapped between my and Pike’s bodies, and he kissed my shoulder, my neck. Hungry. Wanting.

  Foster’s erection pressed against my bottom as he shifted forward. I wriggled against him even as I continued to kiss Pike. The swirl of sensations overtook me. I lost track of whose hand was where, whose scent filled my nose. It was both of them, all of them, coalescing into one heady moment.

  Pike pulled away, gasping for breath. “Fuck slow. Bedroom. Now.”

  “Agreed,” Foster growled.

  Pike pushed away from the couch, and Foster turned me into his arms, standing up and lifting me with him. I linked my arms around his neck again and caught his gaze. The stark need that filled those sea glass eyes seemed to reach inside me and twist everything into something new and different. Unrecognizable. I knew then that whatever happened next, I’d never be the same. Even if it was just this one night. This man would change me.

  Maybe already had.

  He carried me toward the bedroom, Pike ahead of us. And I tore my gaze away from Foster’s, the connection almost too powerful to bear. For the first time since walking in, I noticed the elegant creams and golds of the suite, the refined decor, the fresh flowers. Every detail had been finely attended to. It was romantic. And expensive. Fit for a honeymoon.

  Or a girl losing her virginity.

  “I’ve been imagining this for a long time,” Foster confessed as he stepped into the large bedroom.

  I smiled, warmth spreading through me, the feeling of rightness settling in my gut. “So have I, Foster.”

  So have I.

  Chapter 8

  Foster set me on my feet in the bedroom and didn’t let go until he made sure I was steady. He brushed my hair aw
ay from my face, his expression unreadable in the combination of soft lamplight and shadows. “Undress me.”

  It was a simple request, but hell if it didn’t make a ripple of Oh, my God, yes go through me. I lifted my hands, my fingers almost forgetting how to work as I reached for the buttons on his shirt. How many times had I pictured his naked body in my fantasies? When I’d hear Foster come in late, I’d lie there in bed, holding my breath and listening to the sounds he made. The TV turning on, the plunk of shoes coming off and hitting the floor. I’d imagine his clothes sliding off of him, the hard muscle and planes of his body coming into view. My eyes would shut and without pausing to think, I’d trace my hand down my belly, below the band of my panties, and pretend it was his touch instead of mine.

  As I reached the bottom button, Foster put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face toward him. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

  In the corner of my eye, I saw Pike sit on the edge of the bed, his attention fixed on the two of us. Nerves crept in, making my skin go hot then clammy.

  I tried to look away from Foster, but he tapped my chin. “No you don’t. Look at me and tell me without filtering.”

  I forced my focus upward and tried to swallow past my parched throat. My cheeks burned hot—guilt and shame, my old Catholic friends, pumping through me. But I was not going to chicken out now. If I wanted people to stop treating me like I was a naive little girl, I needed to stop acting like one. “I was thinking about how many times I’ve touched myself while listening to you get undressed in your room, how many times I’ve imagined you naked.”

  His grip on my chin tightened, and his jaw flexed, the pleased look in his eye its own reward. “I think we’ve both imagined things long enough, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, the words quivery in the quiet room. This is going to happen. This is really going to happen.

  I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting my fingers travel over the ripples and dips of his pecs and shoulders. Hard muscle and hot skin. The shirt hit the floor, and I went to the button on his jeans, knowing that if I stopped moving, I’d start questioning myself. So without examining the urge, I lowered myself to my knees and pulled down the zipper. The thick outline of his erection pressed against the denim—intimidating and enticing all at once. I grabbed the waist of his pants and lowered them along with his boxer briefs. His cock slipped free, hard and heavy with arousal. I bit my lip so the gasp wouldn’t escape.