Jingle Ball (More The Merrier) (4 page)

The wet glugging sounds she was making might’ve embarrassed her if Cole hadn’t been stroking her ass again, his fingers darting between her cheeks and down below to her cleft. She wiggled to try to get him to actually penetrate her, but he slipped back, his damp fingers trailing over her ass before he lifted his hand.

And brought it down hard.

She yelped and drew off Des’s cock, managing not to use her teeth. Barely.

“Uh uh. Not of that.” Des urged her back down, feeding her his length. “Cole’s going to spank you, and you’re going to suck.”

She pulled away long enough to answer. “I might maim you.”

He laughed and rubbed his thumb over her upper lip. “I’d like to see you try.”

The edge in his voice took her off-guard and she wasn’t prepared when Cole’s caresses led to another slap. Then another and another. She buried her face against Des’s stomach, drawing in deep breaths of his scent, and he held her head, cradled it even, as Cole peppered her ass with smacks. In between he rubbed her cheeks, stoking the heat higher and higher until her mortification turned into something that burned deep in her belly. She writhed under his hand, craving more of that feeling, and Des slipped his fingers into her mouth, giving her an outlet for her need to bite and moan.

“You like that? Your ass on fire? Your pussy dripping?” Cole spoke this time, proving the veracity of his question by dragging his fingers down her soaked cleft.

All she could do was nod.

“She likes it well enough to be honest. Which was the whole point.” Des caught her in his probing stare. “Why were you in Cole’s office?”

With her inhibitions ripped away, there was only the truth. “I wanted to get away from the crowd for a minute. I came in the back door. This…this was the closest empty room.”

Instead of a slap, she got a stroke, one that made her arch and whimper from the velvety thrill of Cole’s hand sliding over her sore bottom.

Des reached down and unclipped her stinging nipples, giving her a moment of gasping relief before he clipped them again. “You didn’t come here looking for Cole.”

“No.” The word was a moan.

“But you thought you held his shirt while you touched yourself.”

She’d known exactly whose shirt she held. She recognized Des’s aftershave. Heat blasted over her face and she pressed it against his muscled abdomen. More smacks rained on her butt.

“No…” It was all she could get out before Des pushed her back down on his cock.

She worked him hard, making those wet, urgent sounds that seemed to push him closer to the edge. She cupped his balls, moaning herself at his violent jerk when she squeezed. Holding him, so strong and vulnerable, in her hand, in her mouth, made her eyes smart and her clit ache. She wanted him inside her.

Whatever the consequences, he’d taken her this far. He couldn’t leave her now.

As soon as she had the thought, he nudged her away. She was staring at him, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong when Cole drew her up and shoved her belly-first on the desk. For a moment, she’d almost forgotten he was there.

And then he was
really
there, sliding his condom-covered cock inside her liquid sex. She cried out, stunned that he’d given her no warning. Stunned she could want him to fuck her when she so craved the man watching them silently. But Cole was sexy too, and she’d always liked him. She definitely appreciated the way he surged inside her with no reservations whatsoever.

She swallowed the moans so insistently working their way up her throat and pulled on the dangling crystals on her nipples, inciting an answering echo in her core. He fucked her just right, hitting her G-spot with a precision that made her sob with all the pent-up passion she’d held back for so long.

Somehow he knew when she couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. He pushed her down and started ramming in and out, grinding her clit against the desk. She bit her forearm to stifle her scream as she convulsed around Cole’s thick, thrusting length.

“That’s it, babydoll. Come on me.” He slapped her ass almost as an afterthought, then plunged deeper, harder. His orgasm rocked through him, driving him into her so fiercely that she drew blood on her arm in her attempt to stay quiet from the residual aftershocks.

Holy crap, she’d never come like that before. He’d practically split her open with his intensity. And she’d adored every second.

When Cole pulled out, murmuring an apology—for what, she had no clue—she turned over as he aimed an arrogant grin at Des.

He pointed at Des’s unflagging cock. “Want me to take care of that for you?”

She barely registered the scene in front of her. Des shrugging. Cole bending to suck Des’s cock, his lips slicking over the head with the kind of skill that suggested lots of practice. Des fisting his best friend’s hair much harder than he’d done with hers and yanking him up and down his dick so viciously she feared Cole would choke.

Fascinated, stunned, she reclined on her elbows on the desk and shuddered from the naked lust on the two men’s faces. She twisted the clips on her nipples and bowed up at the ache that twanged deep below.

Cole reached down with his free hand, working his cock, still wet from her juices, making it rigid again. She debated crawling between his legs and sucking him off. Before she could move, Des came hard, his ass lifting off the chair as he pumped his release into Cole’s waiting throat.

Wendy bit her lip on a moan, so turned on she couldn’t speak. She’d known they were close, but she’d never guessed…
this
.

Des turned his head. His eyes blazed in the faint light. “Break time’s over. You have a party to get back to, don’t you, Ms. Stanton?”

Chapter Four

The rest of the party passed in a blur. Wendy did her best to socialize, though she couldn’t find her panties. Somehow their loss felt much more shameful than Des and Cole’s unusual strategy to get her to tell the truth.

And come like a faucet.

They’d demanded she kneel and give a blowjob and take a spanking and she’d never once felt as if she didn’t have a choice. Along with their repeated reminders that she could leave, she had no doubts about the kind of men they were. They wouldn’t push her into more than she could handle.

So maybe that part was wrong.

But she
wanted
to be pushed. She wanted to be wanted so badly that her lover—or lovers plural, though she’d never considered multiples before—was driven to the edge of sanity. Did that make her depraved? Or maybe she was just lonely and desperate for something that reminded her of all the living she had left to do and not the death in her past.

The entire weekend she shuffled around her apartment. Her mother seemed to be feeling better, and her spirits had improved too. But Wendy’s mood had been fucked as surely as her—

“Say it, wuss.” She faced the bathroom mirror at work on Monday morning, long before anyone else arrived. She’d shown up early to have it out with Des. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t texted. It wasn’t as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend now, but they had to be
something
. She’d given him a blowjob.

Then again, so had Cole and
they
weren’t dating.

Oh God, were they? Was that why Des had never made a move on her? She’d chalked it up to professional ethics or maybe even disinterest. But perhaps he and Cole were a couple, though she’d never gotten that vibe from them.

She screwed up her face and shut her eyes. “Pussy. Pussy. Pussy!” The words burst out of her just as the door swung open. “Aw, hell,” she muttered, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

Great timing, as always.

Van stopped dead in the doorway and blinked. “I know it’s Monday, but it ain’t bad as all that, sugar.”

Wendy sagged against the sink and covered her face with her hand. She couldn’t help grinning. “Sorry. I’m trying something new.”

“Seeing how swear words sound in that sultry accent of yours?” Van stepped up beside her and bumped hips. “I like it. Pu-u-u-sy. All those extra syllables give it more emphasis. So who’s a pussy?”

“No one. I’m just shy, and I’m tired of it.” Wendy glowered at the spotless mirror. The bathroom was always sparkling clean, as if invisible elves snuck in every night with brooms and mops. “I didn’t think I was. But I am.”

“So you’re yelling about pussies first thing Monday morning? Better to get over your shyness with some guy’s mouth on yours.” Van’s eyes gleamed as Wendy bit her lip. “So someone got some action this weekend, huh? Tell me.”

God, no. “It was nothing.”

Van looked genuinely disappointed. “Dud in the sack?”

“Of course not.” Wendy’s mind whirled. What would make this conversation end the fastest? “I think he’s gay. Maybe.” Actually she didn’t think Des or Cole was gay, since they’d both been into her. Clearly they were bisexual. But it seemed as good an excuse as any.

“Damn. Bet he was hot too.” Van patted her arm and leaned toward the mirror to touch up her flawless lipstick.

This she could answer without lying. “Oh yeah.”

“Sucks. Sorry, chica.”

“Me too.” Wendy picked up her purse and smiled at her friend. “Guess we’d better get out there.”

“Yeah, there’s tinsel fucking everywhere. I’m surprised I didn’t pick any out of my ass.” Van shook her head and led the way back to their desks.

So much for catching Des in the office alone.

For most of the day, Wendy didn’t have a chance to think. Between the seriously sinful architects who marched through for an urgent meeting with Des and Cole and a mix-up with their standard housewarming flower delivery to new homeowners, it was a Monday to end all Mondays. But at least there was hardly any time for awkwardness between her and her bosses.

Then she heard Van giggling with Cole.

Stomach sinking to her ankles, Wendy rolled her chair closer to her cubicle partition in time to hear Van mention Wen’s craptastic weekend with a guy who played for the other team. Shit.

She rolled back to her desk and pounded her forehead on her blotter. Hard.

God, she needed to leave. It was five, right? She shot up in her seat and glanced at the time. Three-flipping-thirteen.

But she hadn’t taken a lunch yet. She could sneak out for a sandwich and creep back in when—

Her phone rang and she picked it up, shutting her eyes. She didn’t bother to say hello. “Ms. Stanton, my office please. Now.” Des sounded completely cool and composed. Totally fuckable.

“Yes, sir.” She hung up and stabbed her thumbnail into her palm. Her time of reckoning had come. She’d blown and screwed her way around a firing Friday night, but now she was going to get it.

Was it wrong that she wanted to ask if she could get the other
it
again before they booted her out the door? Preferably by Des this time? Not that she hadn’t enjoyed having sex with Cole, but he wasn’t her boss. Err, he was, but he wasn’t Des.

Dammit all to hell, she wanted Des. Even more so now.

So maybe she needed to show him that she didn’t mind handling a few extra tasks around the office? Blowing, and filing, and typing, and fucking…

She adjusted her suit. She’d worn power red today, hoping it would give her a boost. That it looked good with her coloring and the snug skirt revealed lots of leg? Absolutely irrelevant.

While she stood there fiddling with her clothes, the phone rang again. She answered, her belly fluttering in anticipation of hearing his deep, sexy voice. “Now, Wendy.”

“On my way.” She hung up and strode down the hall, determined to project an outward air of confidence. She was a valuable employee. There was no reason at all to think she’d be fired for such small transgressions.

Then she saw Des standing in his doorway and she stumbled.

Instead of moving to help her, he crossed his arms. Ankles too. He made her think of a king, waiting to be served. That he wore a pair of black jeans, crisp white shirt, and formal pinstriped vest—and a smirk, can’t forget the smirk—didn’t diminish his kingly air.

She slipped past him into the room. The slam of the door made her jump, and quick as a snake, he shoved her face-first against the wall. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. At least she hadn’t pleaded. Yet.

His minty breath warmed her cheek as he pressed to her back. “So I’m gay.”

Yep, there was no stopping the squeak then. Classy. “Uh, I didn’t say you were gay. That the…individual might be gay. The fictional man I slept with, I mean.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to stop talking now.”

“No, it’s fascinating. Tell me more.” While he spoke, he gathered her wrists and—bound them. What the hell?

She whirled to face him then wished she hadn’t. He was too close to her, and his eyes were barely slits. If this was Des set on mad, she’d happily return the dial to affable Des. Or Des, sex maniac who demanded she pleasure him. Another good option.

“I didn’t tell her it was you. Either of you. But come on, do you really think the idea you could be gay is out of left field?”

“Did you think that when your mouth was on my cock?” His question blew over her lips. “Or when I was watching you get fucked by my partner and wishing like hell it was me?”