Enticement (3 page)

Their gazes locked across the space of the living room.

Evie lay sated and lethargic in his arms, her head nuzzled into the crook of his neck, still crooning to herself.

“Come,” Kit whispered.

One word, not even firmly spoken and his body leapt to do Kit’s bidding, just as it had always done.

Breath ragged, Ross hid his face in Evie’s shoulder as his balls gave up their load.

Chapter Two

“Kit!”

Ross’s gasp tore through the contented peace of Evie’s afterglow. The rhythm of Ross’s motion changed, and she sensed a momentary lull in his attention before everything coalesced again and drove him over the edge.

Kit. He’d seen Kit. Had given her a warning, even as every nerve in his body had fused and fired as one.

Apprehensive flutters beat inside Evie’s chest. She hardly dared look. Her fingers still curled around Ross’s shoulders and hair, while his hands still supported her bottom. She didn’t want to see Kit standing there, but was powerless to resist the truth.

Slowly, she turned her head.

Lean and rangy, Kit stood in the kitchen doorway, his firm butt resting against the doorframe, while his long legs stretched out before him. A steaming cup lay clasped within his palm.

He hadn’t just arrived. He’d probably seen it all… Ross fingering her anus, her frigging her clit as their bodies slapped together. Evie’s grip tightened around the short spikes of Ross’s hair, provoking a whimper from him. Gut level anger brewed inside her, dashing icy water on the residual flames of her arousal. If Kit thought he had the right to intrude on them like that, he had another thing coming. There was no room for a Peeping Tom in her house.

“What are you doing back?” she growled, allowing her anger to swallow whole her embarrassment. How dare he stand there so calm, without a trace of discomfiture about him, while inside she was mortified?

Kit swept his long fringe from his eyes and took a sip of his drink, as if standing watching people fuck were as commonplace as watching the telly. “I saw Ross’s car pull up, and figured we had plenty of catching up to do without me propping up the bar for the night. ’Course—once I got here I realized you were kind of busy.” He lifted the mug in a sort of salute, as if him making a cupper somehow detracted from the intrusion. “I’ll just slip past if you’re not done. We can always talk later.” He nodded at Ross, who, to her astonishment, simply nodded back.

Kit slid across the living room and disappeared into the hall. The moment she heard his footsteps on the stairs, Evie scooted off Ross’s lap and pulled her dress straight. “How long had he been there?” she demanded.

Ross sheepishly shook his head. His cock lay flaccid now, nestled against his thigh, still shiny with her dew. Normally, sex wouldn’t have ended here. She’d have taken him gently in her mouth, got herself all worked up on the combined taste of their bodies, and sucked him until he stood proud again. They’d have rolled upon the floor together, or chased upstairs for a joint shower.

“How long, Ross?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a minute or two, my attention was kind of elsewhere.”

“Damnit!” she cut him off. It hadn’t been only a minute or two, not if Kit had come straight back when he’d seen the car pull up, and he’d had time to make a brew. More than likely, he’d seen the lot. Absolutely everything. Evie didn’t consider herself a prude, but sex was something couples did in private. Exhibitionism held no appeal. She hated performing. It’s why she had the equivalent of a desk job where she worked, rather than one of the more showy roles.

Her cheeks blazed as she sought reassurance in Ross’s face. There was none to be found. All he gave her was a wry smile and a shrug. That was it. It was over, done with, nothing to fret about in Ross’s world. He wouldn’t have sought out an audience, but it was no big deal to him that there’d turned out to be one.

“Let it go,” he said, stretching his hand out towards her to pull her back onto his lap. “It’s no big deal. What’s the big fuss, Evie? We’re a couple in our own home.”

“He stood and watched is the problem. I’m not having him spy on us like that.” She neatly sidestepped to avoid Ross’s grasp.

“What, so you’d rather he’d coughed or something so we could run up to the bedroom and cower?”

“I’d rather he wasn’t here in the first place.” She stomped towards the stairs.

“Evie, where are you going?” Ross followed her a few steps.

“We need rules. I’m going to spell them out. It’s my home and I’d like to be treated with respect.”

Ross clasped the doorframe. He stayed just over the threshold and watched her mount the stairs. “Okay. Whatever. Go and say your piece.”

The guest room door was closed. Evie knocked and walked straight into a pit of darkness. Boxes of unpacked knickknacks lay stacked just inside the entrance, draped with an old Guns N’ Roses wall hanging. A pile of coat hangers clacked and scattered as she marched past, the light from the corridor illuminating the way to a neat stack of five unfamiliar suitcases.

“Let’s get things straight, mister,” she began before she’d even spotted him. “There are rules to adhere to if you’re going to stay here. I don’t like being spied on. If you come across us doing anything, anything at all, you take a hike right out of the door. You don’t get comfy and watch.”

“I’m on the bed,” he said. The lamp flicked on as she turned towards what seconds ago had been the darkest portion of the room. “You know you shouldn’t feel bad about being seen. You look damn good together.”

“I—” she began, then stopped. Mouth agape, she stared at him. Kit lay stretched upon his back on the narrow guest bed, his upper body supported by a pile of pillows. The neck of his shirt was undone, as was a section over his stomach, while his leather trousers were pushed down around his thighs. Her gaze fastened upon the tantalizing glimpses of cream-colored skin, and his left hand wrapped around his cock, the skin of which was a good few shades darker.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry,” she blurted automatically as she clasped her hand to her mouth.

“Don’t be.”

She took a hasty step back. He’d seen her and Ross and then he’d come up here and was… She couldn’t even say it in her head, even though the sight of him spread before her like a banquet made everything totally apparent. He’d seen her, and now he was doing that.

“Stay right there.” Kit pinned her with his gaze from behind the long shadows of his fringe. “I guess we’re sort of even now. What was it you wanted to say?”

“Nothing.”

He didn’t stop touching himself even though she was staring him. Hard as she tried she couldn’t quite tear her gaze away. He held himself differently than Ross, used his fingers more, instead of just relying on his wrist.

“You like watching, don’t you?” His tongue tip flickered against his full lower lip, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smile. He patted the duvet. “You can come closer. I don’t mind. “

He looked like an indie rock god sprawled there, caught inflagrante and totally cool with it. Evie pressed her tongue to her upper lip and watched his long fingers play upon his shaft, vaguely aware that the motion was turning her on. She knew she ought to say something, maybe even summon more outrage and storm out, slamming the door, but the way he looked at her, so full of promises, sucked all the words of anger from her.

Ross had blue eyes—ocean-like, azure pools. Blue like the desert sky. Blue like a tropical storm. Kit’s eyes were like dark mirrors, wickedness and playfulness the only clear emotions writ within their silvered depths. He shifted slightly, causing the edges of his shirt to part farther, giving her another glimpse of muscle and the tattoo upon his hip.

Realization dawned that Kit was not the sort of man a boyfriend typically invited to stay. He was too confident and enticing. Nicely packed too, handsome even, if you liked your men a little on the pretty side.

Evie pressed her tongue to her upper lip, her gaze still fastened upon his cock as he drew his looped finger and thumb up and down the shaft. This was more than just her barging in on him now. It had turned into a performance. If she’d been single, that would have been fine, but she wasn’t. She was with Ross, and this guy was supposedly his oldest friend. It’d be best if she said her piece and left right now. Only, when she tried to speak, all that came out was a mute little croak.

She swallowed, wet her dry lips and tried again.

“You don’t have to say anything. I won’t intrude again. Sorry never really cuts it, does it? And I’m not, by the way. How can I be sorry about such a visual treat?” he said.

His gently spoken words made him sound like the voice of reason. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable; therefore it was only fair she saw him similarly exposed. Not that Kit seemed remotely vulnerable as he toyed with himself. His movements were too comfortable and precise. When she’d first asked Ross if she could watch him masturbate, he’d agreed but his cheeks had burned the whole time and his movements had been incredibly jerky. Through repetition, he’d learned to relax and had worn away the sense of embarrassment. Kit possessed no such fragility, or coyness of motion. He touched himself with the confidence of someone who was used to performing, and knew they looked good doing it. Each languid, feathered caress was designed to elicit a slow burn. There was no frenzy, just a soft whisper of enticement.

Evie refused his offer of a perch upon the bed and shuffled away from him until she found herself backed up against the stack of cardboard boxes. Probably best if she stayed out of his reach lest he suggested more than just watching. Frighteningly, she could imagine touching him. Not his cock per se, but definitely pressing her palm to his abdomen, and perhaps sliding it over his warm skin. Her eyes briefly closed, as she replayed how he’d felt against her when she’d wrapped her arms around him in the shower. She relived the jolt of fear and the fluttery feeling of panic, the latter so akin to tingle of arousal she zipping through her now.

Ross… She loved Ross. He made her insides flutter and her heart race. She ought to be watching him, not this man with a devil’s smile.

Her eyes snapped open again. “That’s enough.”

A refutal flared within the dark depths of his eyes, and then he moved his hands away from his body. “As you wish.”

“No more watching,” she said, just to make sure she’d been completely understood. “And no other guests, either. I don’t want a stream of strangers traipsing through.”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

“Perfectly.” He grinned and settled himself more comfortably with his hands clasped behind his head.

Evie sidestepped around the mound of boxes and left, closing the door behind her. At the top of the stairs she paused and swallowed a ragged breath. Two dichotomous images of Kit lay etched inside her head, one of him naked with a hand-towel clamped over his loins, and the other of him spread out upon the bed, clothed, but with his cock exposed, and that after he’d been in the house only a few hours. Lord knows what other havoc he’d wreak given a month.

Ross had moved from his spot on the sofa when she got downstairs. She found him in the kitchen, scribbling answers into the newspaper Sudoku with a sandwich clamped between his teeth and the kettle in his free hand. Evie wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed up tight to his shoulder blades, taking comfort in the heat and strength of his body. There was no denying her encounter with Kit had left her more than a little horny.

Ross put down the pen and sandwich. “Everything all right?” he asked.

“Fine.” She snuggled closer, breathed in his scent and rocked her hips against his bum.

“You didn’t lay down the law too hard, did you? I haven’t seen him in ages, and I’d like a chance to talk to him.”

“It was all very amiable,” she said and then clammed up. She’d fully intended to explain exactly what had happened to Ross, but somehow she couldn’t. Blurting it out would seem too much like a confession, which it wasn’t, and besides, Ross had a whimsical look about him, as though he was looking at his past through rose-tinted spectacles, and she didn’t want to spoil it for him. Having your oldest friend turn up and flash his cock at your girlfriend, regardless of how it happened or for what reason, generally didn’t result in anything but discord. Especially—a wry frown troubled her brow—when it had happened twice in one day.

Kit closed his eyes when Evie left the room. He unfolded his hands from behind his head and rested them palm up upon the duvet. For several minutes, he stared at the ceiling, replaying every moment he’d spent with her over in his head, while his cock continued to buck against his stomach, seeking additional stimulus. When it bucked a little too eagerly, leaving behind a wet thread of precome, he pushed himself up off the bed.

He was done with jerking off, for now at least, despite an awareness that he could come very quickly if the fancy took him. But the moment had passed. Evie had gone, his tit for tat apology half-accepted.

“
Shimatta
!” he swore. The lady no doubt thought he was a complete prick now, and she’d be right. Certainly there were better ways to impress a woman than giving her an eyeful. Sure, women liked cocks, but generally they preferred them with a brain attached. In the absence of higher functioning, they tended to opt for a nice whizzy toy in place of a dunce.

Engage brain not cock next time, he chastised himself. Although in the middle of a wank wasn’t generally when he did his best reasoning.

Kit fastened his trousers over his hard-on. His cock strained against the leather, leaving him feeling uncomfortable, but it seemed fair punishment somehow. He’d known Ross wouldn’t bat an eyelid at him watching, but he should have checked out the lady more thoroughly before indulging his voyeuristic streak, made sure she felt the same way.