Day, Xondra - Our Dirty Little Secret (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (7 page)

“
Go ahead.
”

“
I
have
thought about you before,
”
admitted his best friend.
“
Hell, I
’
ve dreamt about touching you, and doing more.
”

“
More? Like what?
”

“
I wanna suck your cock, taste you.
”

Marcus curled his fingers around Jeff’s cock, pulling his foreskin upward.

“
Yeah, that feels awesome. Jack my cock,
”
he said.
“
If you want to suck it, do it.
”

“
I
’
ve never done it before
”

“
Now
’
s the time to learn. Practice on me all you want.
”
He leaned back in the chair and spread his legs. When he felt Marcus take his cock into his mouth, he groaned, marveling at the feeling. He placed one hand behind Marcus
’s
head and guided him along.
“
That
’
s it, suck my cock, buddy. Make me feel good.
”

Their little adventure didn
’
t move anything past that blow job. It was an experience that Jeff wouldn
’
t forget anytime soon.

Marcus moved away a couple months later, after he’d finally came out to his parents. After that, they lost contact. The last Jeff heard Marcus was living overseas in England with some guy.

Chapter Three

Ann felt just a little bit naughty for teasing Jeff about his
encounter,
as they called it. It didn
’
t bother her. When he’d first told her, she found it amusing but also titillating thinking about him being with another man. Though she neglected to tell him that.

Placing a pot full of water on one of the two inside stove burners, she turned the flame on high, and waited for it to start to boil. When it did, she placed the spaghetti into the water and popped the garlic bread into the oven.

“
Is he here yet?
”
asked Jeff, trudging into the kitchen dressed in a pair of faded black jeans and a white, button-up, cotton shirt, his hair still wet.

“
Not yet. He should be here soon. It
’
s about that time.
”

“
What can I do to help?
”

“
For starters, you can put on a pair of socks,
”
she answered, looking down at his bare feet.

“
So, no picking my toes with my teeth at the table then while he
’
s here?
”

Ann closed her eyes.
“
That
’
s disgusting.
”

“
White or black?
”

“
I
’
ll let you decide. Surprise me.
”

“
Be back in a minute.
”

Ann watched him walk away, admiring the way his behind looked all snug inside his jeans. Jeff had an awesome, round, firm ass.

Sauce, spaghetti, garlic bread
…
wine.

Ann looked to the set table, feeling pleased with herself for its casual yet understated elegant look.
Thank you, Martha Stewart!

She jumped when she heard a knock at the front door. It had to be Mike. With a sidelong glance in the hall mirror as she passed to check herself, she sucked in a breath and opened the door.

* * * *

“
You
’
re looking fine,
”
said Mike, pulling back a bit, giving Ann the once over. He held out a bottle of wine in his right hand.
“
I figured it would be only right to bring something after your kind offer.
”

“
That
’
s very generous. Thanks. Please, come in. Everything
’
s almost ready to go.
”

“
Nice house.
”
He looked around as he followed her down the long hallway that stretched throughout the house’s core to the kitchen.
“
How long have you lived here?
”
He knew the neighborhood dated back to the forties. The realtor had told him that.

“
We moved in ten years ago. It didn
’
t look like this when we moved in. My husband, Jeff, works construction. He did most of the work himself. We practically gutted the place to get it to our liking.
”

“
You
’
ve both done a marvelous job. My place needs a slight overhaul.
”

“
I figured as much. The Donaldsons lived there forever.
”

“
That would explain the wallpaper in the bedroom,
”
he said with a smirk.

Ann rolled her eyes, setting the bottle of wine on the countertop.
“
I can only imagine. The woman had a penchant for pink.
”

“
And roses,
”
he added.
“
The bedroom is all things floral.
”

“
That
’
s just so wrong in so many ways. If you need help, I
’
d be more than willing when you’re ready to start things, and I
’
m sure Jeff would. He enjoys doing stuff like that.”

“
Great. I
’
ll keep that in mind.
”
He sniffed the air. His stomach rumbled. Whatever she was cooking smelled absolutely delicious.
“
Italian?
”

“
What was that?
”
asked Ann.

“
The smell.
”

“
Spaghetti. It
’
s nothing fancy, but my sauce is rather nice.
”

“
Indeed it is,
”
added another voice, male.

Sweet Jesus divine!
The man standing in front of him was sex personified, poured into one hell of a pair of well-fitting jeans.

“
I
’
m Jeff,
”
said the dreamboat, extending his hand.
“
You must be Mike.
”

“
It
’
s good to meet you.
”
Mike had a strong grip. Forceful.
Nice.

“
How are you liking it so far, the neighborhood?
”

It had been less than a day since he’d arrived, a long, tiring day.
“
It
’
s nice,
”
he answered.
“
Though give me a week and see if I still feel the same.
”

“
It
’
s a great area, quiet. If you like that sort of thing. We do, right, Ann?
”

“
Yes indeed.
”
Ann went to her husband
’
s side.
“
Now that we
’
re all acquainted, would anyone like a predinner drink? Mike brought wine.
”

“
Sounds great.
”
Jeff grabbed the bottle and headed to a drawer, producing a wine opener.

With their glasses filled, they sat at the table.

* * * *

Jeff gingerly tasted the wine. He wasn
’
t fond of red, and he
’
d take a beer any day over this stuff that their new neighbor had brought them.

Mike was nothing like he
’
d imagined him to be. Not that Ann had given him much to go on. This man looked like some model straight from a magazine. And from the way Ann looked at him over her glass, he guessed she found him attractive, which was probably the reason she had invited him to dinner in the first place.

Another husband might have been jealous with this situation. He wasn
’
t. It was okay to look; there wasn
’
t anything wrong with it. But no touching. Those were the rules, in his mind.

“
How
’
s the house?
”
he asked, imagining that over the years the Donaldsons had done very little updating.

“
It needs some work. I was telling Ann earlier today. She mentioned that you might be able to help.
”