Authors: Jess Dee
A jolt went through her. “I—” Heat flooded between her legs. She tried to form a sentence, to say something logical, but in the end could express nothing but the absolute truth. “Yes.”
Ben leaned in closer, spoke even more softly. “How excited?”
“V-very.”
“Excited by the prospect of him watching us, or by meeting him?”
She couldn’t separate them out. “Both.”
“Do you find him attractive?” Ben’s voice was hoarse.
“He’s good looking.”
“He turns you on?”
Melissa faltered. She was turned on. No two ways about it. But was it Will that had her all worked up, or was it the fact that meeting him had automatically made her think of fucking Ben? Because that was the context in which she associated Will. A voyeur to her and Ben’s sexual activities. “Meeting him turned me on.”
“Tell me, Mel…” His voice was so low she had to pay him her full attention to catch every word. “How would you feel if I took you upstairs now, locked my office door and fucked you in front of my open window—knowing the man you’ve just met was watching us?”
Oh, God.
The very thought of Ben making love to her made Melissa whimper. The idea of Will watching made her pussy clench. Desire for Ben hit her with such force, her hands shook. Had she been holding her coffee, it would have spilled everywhere.
“You’d like that, sweetness, wouldn’t you?”
She nodded, helpless to do anything else.
“Would you let him see everything? Would you want him to see everything?”
“I…” She lowered her voice to match his. “Yes. Absolutely everything.”
“You’d want him to see you naked?”
She closed her eyes, imagined Ben making love to her while Will watched, seeing everything. The image made her shiver, and she nodded.
“You want him to see me finger you?”
Almost as much as she wanted to be fingered by Ben. Another shiver, another nod.
“How about licking you? Would you like him to watch as I feast on your sweet pussy?”
The idea of Ben’s mouth on her cunt was almost more than she could bear. “S-so much.”
“And if I fucked you while he watched, would I take your pussy or your arse?”
“D-do I have to choose?” Could he be that cruel? That withholding? She wanted Ben in every way possible.
“You’d want both?”
“Yes.”
“In front of him?”
She nodded.
“What if…” Ben’s voice trailed off.
“What if what?”
“Nothing.”
“Ben, please. What if what?”
He looked at her with eyes black as night. His mouth was set in a grim line.
“Ben?”
“What if Will wasn’t in his office when I fucked you? What if he was in mine?”
Chapter Eleven
Damn it, he’d done it again. Thrown her completely off her game. Had her attention focused elsewhere, so work just wasn’t important.
What if Will
was
in Ben’s office the next time they made love? How
would
she feel?
She hadn’t answered Ben, hadn’t been able to. She still didn’t have an answer. The idea sent shivers of anticipation racing up and down her spine. It made her breath shallow and her stomach all fluttery.
Melissa blinked in surprise. When had she started using the terms
fucking Ben
and
making love to him
interchangeably? More importantly, when had she begun to think of being with Ben sexually as making love? What had happened to the simple, no-strings-attached affair?
Melissa needn’t worry about strings anymore. She’d gone way past that. At some point over the last few weeks she’d brought in the heavy artillery, attaching herself to him with ropes, chains, shackles and irons.
Listless, she stared at the paperwork on her desk. A new company was looking to make investments. One she’d never worked with before but had heard noise about in the field.
Melissa wanted to get excited about the prospect. Wanted the shivers up her spine to be an indication that her work turned her on. They weren’t.
She’d met with the CFO a few days ago and gotten a good feel about him. Now she had to back up that feeling with facts and figures of company performance, solid proof they could indeed put up the millions they were looking to offer as debt.
She forced herself to work. Forced herself to do the necessary research, check through Alistair’s documents meticulously, and she despised every minute of it. There had been a time when coming to work excited her. When the thrill of knowing she’d gotten such a brilliant job had been enough to spur her on, get her out of bed in the morning, make her rub her hands together at the thought of all she could achieve.
But that time had passed long ago. All that was left now was the drive to do better. Although maybe “obsessive need” would be a more appropriate description than drive.
She let her mind wander. Allowed herself to play
what-if
. What if she left the job? Resigned and did something else altogether? What if she could work in any field, any industry of her choice? What would it be?
She had no idea.
She narrowed down her options. What could she do with her various degrees that would make her happy? Remaining in the business world but moving into a different area of finance did not appeal at all. Yep, there were many high-powered jobs out there that she was qualified to perform in and would offer her stable income and a chance for growth, but she wasn’t interested in any of them.
The problem was that she wasn’t passionate about business.
Okay, she had a mind for figures. She understood numbers. Could she do something with that? Teach, maybe? Lecture at a university or TAFE? Did she want to do that?
She had no idea. She’d never thought about it before. But teaching someone a new fact, helping them understand something that had previously made no sense did hold a certain amount of appeal.
Maybe something to file away and consider in the future.
Or maybe she could write? She had zero imagination, so fiction would be out. But what about nonfiction? An idiot’s-guide-to-investment-banking type of book?
Pfft.
She had no idea if there was even a need for another guide to capital investment.
Okay, what about something totally unrelated to numbers or to her current job. What if she became an aroma therapist? Or a reflexologist? Or took up practicing Reiki?
She laughed out loud at that one. Once she’d gone for an aromatherapy massage and had hated every minute of it. While she enjoyed being touched by someone she desired—Ben—she hated being touched all over by someone she didn’t know. Hated the invasion of privacy.
She knew she’d hate invading someone else’s privacy in the same way.
She could always go back to uni, study something different. But the very idea made her shudder. She’d studied for over nine years. Enough was enough.
Nope. See? Considering alternative job options was a pointless exercise. She was working in a job she was well qualified to do, had gained brilliant experience in, was good at, and most importantly, it held doors open to her. Doors to further success. No point looking at anything else. She was in investment banking for the long haul.
And with that thought, she pushed further deliberation from her mind, refused to think about Ben—or Will, for that matter—any longer, and got down to serious work.
Night came before she left the office. And when she did, it was to nip home to pack an overnight bag and head back to Ben’s place.
She couldn’t wait to see him again. Be with him again. Kiss him. Make love to him…
He greeted her with a long, hot kiss and promises of a good meal. He didn’t disappoint. Ben served her fresh salad with extra cheese and olives on the side, sumptuous steak grilled to perfection and fresh strawberries for dessert. A crisp Chardonnay was the perfect accompaniment to the meal, although she was the only one sipping it. Ben stuck to scotch.
And when she’d taken her final bite of dinner and pushed her plate aside, he pounced.
They made love on the floor beside his dining room table.
After showering together, they cleared away the dishes and sat down to watch TV.
Melissa marveled at the domesticity of it all, marveled at how comfortable she felt with him, how happy.
“Do you know when last I turned on the telly?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Me neither. I never watch. Never seem to have the time.”
“Not even before you go to sleep?”
“I read then. Can’t fall asleep without getting through at least a chapter every night.”
“And I need to lose myself in some mindless TV program to fall asleep.” He grinned mischievously. “Wanna hear a secret?”
“Yeah. Course I do.” Especially when he grinned like that. It made her want to hear everything he had to tell her.
“You know what I watch every night?”
“Nope.”
“
Home and Away
.”
She gaped at him. “The soapie?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You watch a soap opera?”
“Every single night.”
She shook her head with a laugh as she digested that piece of information. “But hang on.
Home and Away
isn’t on TV late at night.” Everyone knew the program was screened early in the evening.
“I know.” Another huge grin. “I record it.”
“You do not!”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Fine, then tell me who the main characters are.”
“You’d know them?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d have to be dead not to. I was addicted as a teenager.”
“Fine, but don’t say you didn’t ask.” And with that, Ben launched into a detailed description not only of every character on the show—some of whom Melissa had never heard about—but he also told her every sordid detail of every single relationship and every plotline for the last two years, at least.
She stared at him, amazed. “You really do watch.”
He grinned triumphantly. “Told you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I know. And I get really grumpy if I miss an episode.”
“But…you missed an episode last night.” She’d know, seeing as she’d been with him the entire night. “And tonight.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
The penny dropped. “Oh. I get it. The reason you’re telling me. You want to watch now.”
He smiled as he nodded.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Lord, how could she possibly deny him the pleasure? How could she deny him anything? “Well, go ahead, you crazy fool.”
And for the next hour, she and Ben watched a soap opera she hadn’t watched since she was in school. She enjoyed every minute of it, mostly because she was tucked close against his side, and while adverts were on, instead of fast forwarding through them, Ben took her mouth in long, drugging kisses.
By the time the final credits of the second episode ran, they were both naked again, and Ben was lying on top of her, condom already in place.
“You never did answer my question, sweetness.”
“Which one?” Her hands were trailing up his back, relishing the hard muscle beneath the firm skin.
“The one about Will.”
Melissa inhaled. Just like that, her body turned to liquid, her internal temperature shooting up.
Ben groaned. “Shit, Mel. Your nipples just got harder.”
She reached blindly for his mouth and kissed him. He kissed her straight back, and as she wound her legs around his waist, he slid inside her.
“Wet,” he gasped. “So wet.” He thrust into her, slowly, repeatedly, as though he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself. “Wet for me, or…wet for him?”
“For you.” For sure. She met Ben thrust for thrust, glorying in the sensations she’d only ever experienced with him.
“Would you want him—”
thrust,
“—there, with us—”
another thrust,
“—in the same room, while—”
thrust,
“—we made love?”
Would she? How would she feel if Ben’s friend, his ménage partner, stood in the room with them?
Horny as the devil, she suspected.
She nuzzled Ben’s neck, nipped his earlobe and whispered softly. “Yes.”
A growl escaped from him, a sound unlike any she’d heard before. He drove into her, harder, deeper.
She held him tighter, closer. Dug her nonexistent nails into his back, took him in as far as she could. Still he wasn’t close enough. With Ben she just wanted him closer. “But…”
“But…?” His voice was ragged.
“But I wouldn’t just want him to watch.”
Ben lost his rhythm, jerking against her before finding his tempo again. “W-what else would you…want?”
She closed her eyes, knew her face was scarlet. She also knew she was about to utter the absolute truth again—just like Ben had insisted on last night—and that truth notched her desire up to another level. “For him to join in.”