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Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #Contemporary Menage

Boston Avant-Garde 4: Encore (9 page)

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 4: Encore
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“Yes.”

She palmed his cock through the soft pants. “Can I take these off? I want to feel your skin next to mine.”

He grappled with his pants, pushing them down over his hips while she wrestled his T-shirt over his head. When he was naked, she began to pump his cock, mimicking the motions he had used on Jericho the night before. “So for you, it doesn’t matter if it’s a woman who does this or a guy?”

“It matters.” How did she expect him to be coherent enough for speech with her hot little hand on his shaft? “There has to be a connection. I don’t want a random stranger’s hand on my dick.”

She laughed right before she lowered her head and took his cock in her mouth. Dante groaned, fighting the urge to spend his seed. Her tongue was hot and wet. She used it to draw patterns against his skin. Around the head, down the shaft, she sucked and tugged his aroused flesh.

She was on her knees beside him. He rolled to his side, forcing her to move with him. The new position gave him access to her body. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, baring her pussy. The narrow strip of golden curls was damp with her cream. Spreading her lips, he nuzzled her sensitive flesh. The taste of her sweet juices stimulated him past the point of pain. Jericho had come inside her body, marking her with his essence just as Dante intended to do.

Dante found her clit with his tongue, licking in quick movements until her pussy began to tremble. His cock slipped from the warmth of her mouth, and she cried out when she came. He continued his assault on her pussy, wanting to give her as much pleasure as he could.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Dante?”

Did he want to fuck her? He got to his knees and rolled her onto her back. Picking up her calves, he cradled them in his arms to keep her legs spread wide. But before he could penetrate her body, he needed permission. “Do you want me to use protection?”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. “Do you need to?”

Dante thought of every possible meaning for her words. Was he afraid of giving her a disease? No. He was regularly tested, though he hadn’t been sexually active for quite some time. Was he afraid of her passing along a disease to him? No. Despite the job she held in his club, she didn’t strike him as the type to engage in frequent casual sex. He gave up the internal debate, knowing what he wanted.

“Screw protection. I need you so badly I feel as if I’m losing my mind.” The head of his cock probed her slick entrance.

With every inch, he savored the delicious feeling of her body accepting his. She was tight and wet, her core pulsing as he sank into her channel until he could go no farther.

Fully inside her, he lowered her legs to the bed and bent over her body. He watched her face as he began to move. Her eyes were closed, the nuance of her expression changing with each stroke. Lips slightly parted, she moaned when he drove in deep to touch the spot so far inside that sent tremors through her pussy.

She felt so perfect with no barrier between them. He flexed his ass to push his cock in and out of her. As good as it was, there was still something missing from their love play.

Jericho.

Dante missed Jericho’s sleekly muscled body. The scent of his skin, the sight of his body entwined with theirs. Dante wondered what it might feel like to push into Suri’s body while Jericho sank his cock deep into Dante’s ass.

The thought alone drew a groan from Dante. He thrust harder, slamming his cock into Suri’s pussy. The wet sound of sex filled the room. It was the sound of two that should’ve been three. The possibility of more drove him insane with lust. He shouted, spilling his seed inside Suri’s body as she reached her second orgasm. Even as her pussy milked his cock, he knew he’d only given her half of what she had deserved.

 

JERICHO SILENTLY ENTERED Dante’s suite and closed the door behind him. He wasn’t surprised to see them asleep and naked in each other’s arms. His response to the sight was another story altogether. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to gaze at their beautiful bodies.

He would never grow tired of the perfection of Suri’s feminine form. One graceful leg was thrown over Dante’s hip, palm resting on his chest. She had tucked her head against his shoulder, and her expression was peaceful. Her blonde hair hung loose around her.

In sleep, Dante’s face lost the intensity that carved his features while awake. His dark brows were smooth arches over his closed eyes. Jericho took his time staring at the four-inch line bisecting Dante’s mouth. Jericho remembered the day it had happened. When he had stumbled upon a group of three men beating a fourth.

Even then, he had been drawn to Dante’s strength. The bravado he’d wielded like armor as he’d lobbed insults at his attackers—even when one of them pulled a knife and slashed his face open. Jericho had stepped into the fray without hesitation. It wasn’t in him to allow another to be bested in such an unfair contest. The distraction had given Dante a chance to gain his feet, and together they’d laid waste to their opponents. Since then, they’d always watched each other’s backs.

Drawn to him, yes, but attracted to him? Are the two even the same?

Jericho should have looked away from the sight of Dante’s cock, but he couldn’t. His friend possessed a beautiful body. Smooth dark skin stretched over an expanse of muscular ridges and grooves that told the story of a man who pushed himself brutally. The soft length of his shaft rested against his thigh, the darker base emerging from a nest of tight, wiry dark hair that Dante kept short and neatly trimmed.

Jericho’s gaze was still lingering on his friend’s body when he realized Dante had awoken at some time during the frank inspection. Chagrined, Jericho tried and failed to look away. Dante extracted himself from Suri’s embrace. He settled her on the mattress, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, and pulled the duvet over her naked form.

Dante’s cock stirred when he got up, and Jericho found his gaze transfixed by the sight. It looked as if it was getting firmer, hardening into a length of satiny steel that would thicken with a lover’s touch.

“Keep looking, and it’ll give you something to see,” Dante quipped.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Jericho wrenched his gaze up to his friend’s face. “Flaherty is waiting.”

“Or you could just mention that and I’ll deflate like a balloon.”

Ignoring the dig seemed like the best option. “I’ll head back down while you get dressed.”

“You don’t want to wake her and tell her you’ll be back?”

If he woke her, Jericho wouldn’t be able to make himself go. He’d had a hell of a time doing it before, when he knew he had no choice but to handle the three dancers waiting in the stairwell and the incapacitated guards in the West Suite. “No need to disturb her since you’ll be back shortly.”

Jericho didn’t address the question of whether or not he’d be returning. Dante and Suri had obviously slept together. It didn’t bother him, though he wondered if it should. Shouldn’t a man be bothered by the idea of sharing a woman with another guy? Wasn’t there some sort of assumed exclusivity? Did Dante expect Jericho to back off now that he’d obviously professed some kind of interest in Suri? Or was it acceptable for the three of them to continue where they’d left off the night before?

Chapter Eight

Dante watched Congressman Eagan Flaherty pace from one end of the office to the other. If the man thought Dante could be pressured by a show of displeasure, he was sadly mistaken.

“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now with this bid for the Senate, Torres.”

Dante didn’t comment. He wondered if the congressman’s constituency ever got to see this side of the man. His dark hair was usually impeccable, his face clean-shaven, and with a wide smile plastered on his handsome features. At the moment, he looked like a pouting toddler.

“I need to let off some steam.” He quit pacing and glanced over at Dante as if he was trying to see if he’d made any headway. “My wife is my political partner, not a sex kitten. I need a good lay. Not some high-maintenance mistress who’ll run me in circles. I need a woman who knows how to scream when I fuck her and keep quiet when I’m done.”

“There are a dozen women here at the club who fit that description. And if I’m not mistaken, you brought one with you.”

“Yeah, that one had to go. Turns out she was more about a payday than a playday. Mistresses are expensive. I just want a woman to fuck.” Flaherty turned abruptly, smacking his palms on the desktop and giving Dante a look that bordered on crazed. “You seem to think there are dozens of willing women, but not the one I want. You’ve taken the hot little belly dancer off the menu. Is that what I’m understanding?”

“Unfortunately, not all women fall into the category of what you’re seeking.” As unintentional as it may have been, Suri’s dance had managed to irrevocably snag the congressman’s attention. “But I’m certain we can find an equally tantalizing alternative. In fact, I’d be more than happy to comp you the house suite on Level Four and a private gaming table of your choice for the remainder of this week. Given that atmosphere and time frame, I’m certain finding a way to let off steam won’t be a problem.”

Flaherty straightened, looking down his nose at Dante. The obvious attempt at intimidation fell far short of the mark. The congressman might have had an inch or two and sixty pounds on Dante, but Dante could’ve put him down like a dog had he wanted to.

“You better hope that’s the case, Torres, or I’ll have to take matters, and your sassy, off-the-menu employee, into my own hands.”

A surge of anger had Dante leaping to his feet before he could suppress the urge. “Don’t threaten me, Flaherty. You won’t like where it leads.”

He faced the pampered politician over his desktop, wanting nothing more than to ram his fist down the other man’s throat. The irrational outburst wasn’t like him. He didn’t lose his cool. In this business, he couldn’t afford to. But the idea of this prick trying to force himself on Suri was unacceptable. The privileged asshole could find another willing pussy to chase. Suri didn’t want him. And she deserved better.

Flaherty backed off a pace or two, his gaze narrowing as he assessed Dante with dispassionate interest. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing for the bitch.”

The office door swung open, and Jericho’s menacing presence filled the room. Dante wondered how much of the conversation his friend had actually heard. “Jericho will show you to your suite, Congressman Flaherty. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

The door clicked shut behind Jericho and Flaherty, but Dante’s mind was already elsewhere. He walked to the window, staring outside at the city lights reflected on the churning water of the Neponset River.

Lovers came and went, but his business had always been the focus of his life. How could he reconcile the two when one seemed determined to undermine the other?

Frustration nipped at his psyche, and Dante turned away from the window. He should probably put in an appearance down in the casino. If nothing else, it would keep his mind occupied.

He let the heavy inlaid door slam shut behind him and paused a moment in his reception area. For once, no one was waiting for him to make a decision or render judgment. The empty space was quiet. He wished he felt as composed as it looked. The last forty-eight hours seemed to be ripping him apart at the seams.

Jericho appeared beside him. “Flaherty is settled in.”

Dante headed down the corridor toward Level Three, Jericho keeping pace. “That little prick is two shits away from getting his membership revoked.” Dante hit the latch at the end of the hallway with unnecessary force, flinging the door back, and exited onto the marble walkway.

“I’m not disputing the label, but I do find it interesting that you’re letting the ‘little prick,’ as you call him, get to you.” Jericho had already assumed the mask of calm he wore while heading up Asylum’s security team, but there was a note of genuine curiosity in his tone. “As long as he keeps his prick away from Suri, I could care less who he pesters with it.”

Dante stepped from the marble to the plush carpet and walked to an alcove near the balustrade. “It isn’t just that. Everything about the man pisses me off.”

Below, the casino floor was full of activity. The old-school slot machines jingled as customers pumped them full of change. Newer electronic versions trilled at the push of a button. Customers clustered around the blackjack tables. Servers in outfits that showed off their cleavage and long legs delivered mixed drinks, hoping for generous tips. Sectioned off from the general public, the private tables hosted high-stakes poker games. The roulette table was in full swing, and the bar was crowded with customers eager to start a tab.

Jericho’s gaze followed Dante’s around the busy room. “Business is good for a Thursday night.”

“It’ll only get better as we come closer to the holidays.”

“Too bad we have to get through this damn election first.” The corner of Jericho’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “Maybe the little prick will win a senate seat and find a new place to hang out in DC.”

“Maybe.” Dante didn’t follow politics out of a sense of civic responsibility. He followed them as they applied to his business—namely, how he could manipulate those in power to maintain the lucrative, illegal portion of his business interests. Which was why he was marginally interested in keeping the congressman happy at the moment. Having a Massachusetts senator on his guest list could always come in handy.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the woman in your bed?” Jericho’s tone was casual.

He was staring again. Dante could feel the heat in his gaze. He refused to let his friend bow out of a relationship that could be so much more. “Shouldn’t you?”

Jericho’s rigid stance made him look like one of the statues down on the floor. “Last night…”

“Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” Dante lowered his voice and moved closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder. “Your tongue in her pussy while I sucked your cock.”

“I’m not gay.”

Finally, he’d said it. Now they could work through it. “Gay is just a word people use when they’re uncomfortable with who they’re attracted to.”

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 4: Encore
10.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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