Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (84 page)

A few days later Syria pushed
away from her desk, only to bump her chair against a stack of boxes holding
images and photo books ready to be packaged to deliver to her clients.

She needed an assistant, but
really, only the busy season right before Christmas required help. The other
eleven months of the year, she didn’t have enough work to pay someone else.

She’d muddle through.

Her back muscles protested as she
stretched her arms toward the ceiling, trying to work out a kink from sitting
too long at her computer as she airbrushed women to perfection. Tyson’s
unexpected visit seemed like a dream now, but they had spent all their time in
bed and she’d gotten way behind on her work.

Syria moved aside the boxes and
padded through the house to the bedroom. She could not get further behind. For
one, these were gifts. But Tyson was due back the week before Christmas and she
couldn’t let her work interfere with the little time they carved out together
when he was in town.

She sighed at the clock.
Midmorning and she still wore her clothes from yesterday. She really needed a
schedule now that the actual photo shoots were done and only the retouching
work remained. Without the ballast of a work routine, her days and nights were
becoming a blur.

Her phone chimed, and she picked
it up absently. “Coming over!” chirped a perky message from her friend Mia,
surrounded by text hearts and smilies.

Mia never actually asked if she
could visit. She just announced it. Syria headed for the shower. Inside the
spray, Syria debated between hurrying up to finish before Mia arrived, or
slowing down for a repeat performance of their last shower together, which had
ended in Syria’s introduction to fisting. But Mia had her moods, so Syria
rushed, wrapping a towel around herself just as she heard Mia opening the front
door.

“Are you naked?” Mia burst into
the bedroom. “I like you best naked!”

Syria stepped out the bathroom
and stopped short at Mia’s outfit, a perfectly sheer body suit that hid
nothing, but instead drew attention to her nipples and bare, waxed crease with
sparkling red swirls that encircled key areas.

“Oh, don’t miss this part.” Mia
whirled around, and dual red spirals accentuated each of her butt cheeks,
leaving the crack wide and exposed.

“AND, there’s a bonus feature.”
Mia bent over, hands to the ground. As her ass rose in the air, she fingered a
perfect hole, well fortified to avoid tearing, that enabled easy access. “So I
can wear this during the act.”

Syria’s blood started beating
just seeing Mia in this position. She stepped forward and pressed her hand
against the opening, slipping her finger into the warm, waiting flesh. Mia
dropped her head. “See, that’s exactly why I wanted this one.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I know a girl.” Mia bent further
down, walking her head back between her ankles and reaching for the bottom edge
of Syria’s towel. “I think this needs to go,” she said and tugged it off.

“You contortionists are a tricky
lot,” Syria said.

“I can reach all the right
places.” She backed up through her legs again and slowly rose up.

Syria kept her fingers in place
as Mia stood, feeling the adjustment of her body around their connection, and
the shift of the fabric as it stretched and moved.

“So you just came over here to
show me this?” Syria asked, slipping her finger more deeply inside.

Mia faced away still, but moved
with Syria’s fingers. “I knew you couldn’t resist.” She exhaled and bent
forward, bracing her hands on her knees. “You’re too easy.”

Syria withdrew her fingers and
spanked Mia lightly on her red sparkled butt. “I don’t like being predictable.”

Mia whirled around. “Oh no, I
could never call you that.”

Syria’s phone lit up and started
the opening chords to “Santa Baby.”

Mia hopped onto the bed. “That
must be sweetcheeks!” She picked up the phone. “It’s requesting a video chat.”

Syria reached for the phone, but
Mia pushed it away. “Let’s see how well Tyson knows you.” She got up on her
knees and slid the phone between her legs.

“It’s going to be blurry!”

“All the better to challenge him
with!” Mia said. “Now shhh!” She hit the “accept chat” button.

“That’s not Syria!” Tyson said
immediately. “Whose lovely pussy is in my baby’s bed?” He laughed. “Must be
Mia!”

Mia slid the phone along the
bedspread. “Tyson, you are the only boy I know who can identify a girl by her
blowhole.”

Syria peeked over her shoulder.
Tyson was shirtless, his broad chest and strong arms filling the screen. She
couldn’t see the rest. “It was Mia’s idea.”

“I can guess,” Tyson said. “Mia
is always crazy.”

“Crazy?” Mia picked up the phone
again, pressing it against her folds. “Lick this!”

Tyson’s laugh was deep. “You’re
going to smudge Syria’s screen!”

Mia yanked the phone away. “Okay,
yeah. Sorry.” She tried wiping the screen on her outfit, but it was the wrong
sort of material.

“Are you girls naked?” Tyson
asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Syria glanced down. She’d
forgotten Mia had stolen her towel. “No. Mia’s wearing some bizarre
contortionist outfit with a conveniently placed opening.”

“Pull back, let me see.”

Syria took the phone, cleaning it
off with her towel, and angled it at Mia.

“That’s nice,” Tyson said. “Now
do I get to see my love?”

“Give me that,” Mia said, and
took the phone. “I’ll narrate.”

She pointed the phone at Syria’s
feet. “First, her sweet toes. Too bad you can’t be sucking them.” She angled
the screen up a bit. “Then those ankles that could make a nun look sexy.”

She sat down, aiming the screen
at Syria’s legs. “Then those great gams. Shapely calves, cute knees, perfect
thighs.”

“Up a little,” Tyson said. “I
can’t take it.”

“Hold your horses,” Mia said.

Syria tried not to blush. In the
weeks she’d known Tyson and Mia, she’d gone way beyond something as simple as
getting naked on the phone.

“Turn around, Syria. Can’t make
it too easy on him.”

Syria spun to face away.

“Now there is that sweet ass,”
Mia said. “Don’t you want to spread those cheeks? I know I do.”

Syria felt her face burn. Crazy,
feeling shy at THIS late date. But she was never on display. Even when she and
Mia had been on stage, taking off their clothes, there had been so much else
going on, other places to look.

“Now give it to him slowly,
Syria,” Mia said. “Come around with antici—pation.”

Syria crossed her arms over her
chest and took mincing little steps to come back around.

“Oh! She’s shy, Tyson!” Mia
crowed. “You’re not getting a peek of this!”

Tyson faced her on the screen,
away from Mia. His arms were crossed over his chest. “How about if I show you
this?” He picked up his phone, angling it down to reveal his naked belly and
the turgid cock.

Syria lifted her hands over her
head, letting her breasts bounce.

“You got it!” Mia shouted. She
turned the phone back around to her, but Tyson had the camera back on his face.
“I don’t have to ask what you showed her!”

“Give her a little something,
Mia, if she wants it,” Tyson said. Syria felt the blood rush between her legs.
She’d always hoped they’d do something like this once they started video
chatting. She’d had sex with Mia many times, with Tyson’s encouragement, but
never for him.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Mia set the phone on the side table, angling it at the center of the bed. “On
your back, wench!” she said, affecting her pirate speak that matched the act
that she and her husband performed on weekends, both the public comedy skits,
and the private sex shows.

Syria tried to lay back with
poise, but Mia pushed her down, no more getting her flat before she spread
Syria’s knees. “You looking for something like this?” Mia dipped her face to
Syria’s mound, flicking her tongue in the folds.

Syria bucked upward, so hot at
the contact while Tyson watched that she thought she would burst into orgasm
instantly.

Tyson said, “Oh, yes,” but Syria
couldn’t sit up to see what he was doing, as sparks were shooting up her body.

Mia was rough this time,
exaggerating for the camera, and Syria sank into the new sensations of getting
her nipple pinched while Mia sucked hard at her clit, drawing the flesh deep
into her mouth. Mia’s free hand kept Syria’s leg up and out of the way,
presumably to ensure Tyson could see every scintillating detail. She began to
feel the juices dripping down from Mia’s mouth, the wetness slipping into her
ass. The tension built, and her hips moved rhythmically with Mia’s thrusting
hands and mouth.

Mia pulled away. “Can you make
her come this fast, Tyson?”

Syria wondered only briefly what
she meant, since she wasn’t anywhere near at the moment, then suddenly Mia had
her fingers everywhere, in her pussy, in her ass, and her mouth was pulsing
against her clit.

She felt jerked up by a string,
the orgasm pulling at her belly, then it flashed out across her body like a
shock wave. She might have screamed, as her ears started ringing as she came
down, her pelvis lowering back to the bed. She hadn’t realized it had gone
airborne.

“That was spectacular,” Tyson said.

Syria covered her face with her
arm, feeling uncertain about everything that had just happened. She’d always
had Tyson more or less to herself, although they had never pledged any sort of
monogamy.

“You going to spooge that
screen?” Mia asked? “I haven’t seen that cock of yours in ages.”

Syria tried to let go of any sort
of jealousy, but still, it rose up all the same that Mia could claim what she
loved so well. She stayed on the bed, trying to work out how to arrange these
complex relationships in her mind, Mia, Tyson, herself, the men who’d seen her
have sex on stage, even the boy back home she’d stripped for at Tyson’s urging.
Maybe she was more traditional that she was trying to be.

The silence lingered, and Syria
suspected they were both looking at her.

“I’m going to go find something
to wet my whistle,” Mia said. “Show Syria how much you miss her.” Mia patted
Syria’s leg affectionately and withdrew, moving swiftly through the house.

“You okay?” Tyson asked.

Syria still didn’t move her arm.
This was sort of impossible, wasn’t it? Fun, but how could it go on? She was an
Oklahoma girl who hadn’t even had sex until she was twenty. She knew nothing
about polyamory or alternative lifestyles or how to undo a quarter century of
Bible belt upbringing. Or if she should.

“Syria. Hey. Look at me.”

She let her arm fall on the bed
and turned her head to the video. Suddenly this seemed ridiculous. Tyson was in
Seattle. She was having sex with some girl just to titillate him. She jerked at
the bedspread and brought it around her body.

Tyson was holding the camera
close now, framing his face. The stubble across his angled jaw was longer than
usual and his gray eyes were on the blue side today, probably picking up
something in the room. She’d never seen his room. Probably never would. She
couldn’t afford to fly up there and he made no mention of bringing her. Maybe
he even lived with someone, several someones. She didn’t know anything and was
too scared to ask.

“Damn it, I wish I could hold you
in my arms right now. What got to you?” He looked stricken. “I shouldn’t have
encouraged Mia. She likes to show off.”

Syria couldn’t find any words.
She just shrugged.

“Hey. You were amazing. You’re
like my dream girl.”

Syria hugged the bedspread closer
to her.

“I am surrounded every day by all
these overeager women, using me to make them feel something they know is
missing. And here YOU are, exactly the thing we’re all looking for.”

Syria shook her head. “I’m not
anything.”

“Yes, you are! You’re wide open
to the things around you, willing to try anything. Open to love and friendship
and sex and fun. It’s an amazing thing to see. You’re living life on full
throttle. Do you know how hard that is to do? And how many wish they could do
it?”

“You’re so far away,” Syria
managed to get out. “I am only this way because of you.”

“No, you’re this way because of
who you are.”

“Right, shy like my mother,
promiscuous like my father.”

“No. Deep like your mother,
willing to fall like your father.”

Syria brushed her hair out of her
face. “I want to find him. I want to see what he is like.”

“We’ll let’s do that. After
Christmas. We’ll look.”

“I can’t go to India.”

“It’s your quiet season, right?”

“Sure.”

“It’s mine too. But we don’t
actually have to go there. Not unless we find him. We live in the information
age. We’ll track him down.”

Syria sat up. “Maybe.”

“We’ll start at the ashram where
they met. See if they have records. Search outward.”

Syria nodded. Suddenly she felt
terribly tired. “We can talk about it when you come down for Christmas,” she said.
They had planned on spending several days together before Syria flew out to see
her mother.

His face darkened. “I had to
rearrange my schedule to come up and see you last weekend,” he said. “One of my
clients changed her party just for me. I have to accommodate her.”

Syria’s heart fell to her
stomach. “Okay.”

“It was my only gap. It gets sort
of crazy busy at Christmas in my line of work.”

“Right. Santa strippers are a
necessary part of every holiday.”

“Syria, please, don’t.”

She couldn’t take it one more
minute. This was just too impossible, too hard. He never even said what he was
doing for the holiday, if he would be with family, if he even had family. She
didn’t know enough about him to even speculate.