Authors: Tina Donahue
Still holding onto Nikki’s hands, Mitch lowered himself to
her, making certain she didn’t have to bear the burden of his weight. He kissed
her shoulder, damp from sex, and caught enough air to pant, “You okay?”
She mumbled something jumbled and weary.
He teased, “You still awake?”
“Huh?”
“Was I doing this alone? Did you fall asleep on me while we
were fucking?”
Nikki elbowed his arm. “As if I ever could.”
The “ever” got him horny all over again and stirred Mitch
more than the most effusive praise. He licked the contour of her earlobe, then
murmured, “I’ve missed you too.”
She made a noise that sounded both pleased and pained.
Before Mitch could reassure her the past was over, he didn’t give a shit about
it, she dragged their joined hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles,
keeping him close, inhaling his scent. The way a woman in love would do.
It brought a lump to his throat. He forced it down and tried
to get comfortable. His knees wanted to give out, while the rest of him didn’t
feel all that great either. Ignoring his discomfort, he concentrated on other
stuff. The rain hadn’t let up, that was for sure, its gloom making the
afternoon seem more like dusk. The wind whipped past with a vengeance, rattling
things outside. Pity the poor souls stuck out there.
In here was definitely better, though not ideal. A soft
mattress kept calling to him. There were numerous furnished bedrooms on the
second floor forbidden to the cast and crew. Their music continued, interrupted
by the incessant chimes of the doorbell. Apparently, their ladies had arrived.
Ready to party.
Oddly enough, their pleasure made Mitch think of how
uncomfortable Nikki must be. He released himself from her and undid the
shackles around her feet, then helped her to sit on the table. Her legs dangled
over the side, one arm draping his shoulder for support. He smoothed her hair
back and plucked wayward feathers from her chin and neck.
She finished her yawn and asked, “Am I messed up?”
“Don’t worry.” He removed another feather. “We all are to
one extent or another, from bad parenting and other shit.”
Her shoulders trembled with weary laughter. “I meant is my
makeup fucked up?”
“’Fraid so.” He brushed away the glitter on the bridge of
her nose. “That’s better.”
“Bull.” She rested her forehead against his chin. “You’re
supposed to hide my freckles, not uncover them. I should have had them lasered
off.”
Mitch lifted her face and brushed his lips over hers. “Don’t
even think about it.”
“No?” she breathed. “If I do, what’ll happen?”
“You’ll be spending a very long afternoon in this room,
wailing like a banshee while I punish you.”
“No shit? Might be worth the risk.”
Damn, she was something. Too bad he couldn’t do anything
about it until after he rested. Mitch calculated the distance to the nearest
bedroom. Probably a hundred or so steps. Up here, a mere five would have them
on the floor. Maybe it wasn’t as uncomfortable as he remembered.
He was about to help Nikki from the table when something
compelled him to look at Connor. His brother was awake, hands behind his head,
observing her. There was a hint of yearning on his face, a shitload of naked
lust and something Mitch couldn’t quite read. Continued suspicion as to her
true motives?
It made Mitch speak harsher than he intended, “Move over, so
we can lie down.”
Connor pushed to his feet and removed his condom, dropping
it in a metal container meant to give this space a rustic, Old World look. “Not
in here.”
“Where?” Mitch asked. “Nikki’s tired.”
She stopped her newest yawn and shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“Fuck that,” he argued. “You’re as beat as I am.”
“Then I’ll carry her,” Connor said. “Go on, get out of my
way.”
Mitch finally did.
His brother removed her collar and lifted her hair,
examining her neck, no doubt to see if the leather had harmed her.
It had not.
He directed Nikki to drape her arms about his shoulders and
fold her legs around his narrow hips. With one forearm beneath her ass and the
other wrapped firmly on her waist, Connor carried her to the doorway. Nikki
rubbed her cheek against his bristly jaw and ran her fingers through his hair,
playing with it as she looked back at Mitch and smiled.
It pulled him toward her. “Where are we going?” he asked his
brother.
“Follow me and you’ll see,” Connor answered.
Without hesitation, she cuddled up to him, as though they’d
been born for each other and had been doing this forever. Just like in his
teenaged dreams.
Connor warned himself not to make more of this than what it
was. A hedonistic weekend spent sating his needs. He’d bury his face in her
hair because it felt good, not because he couldn’t resist. He’d lick and suckle
her skin for no other reason than that’s what guys did. He’d return her
impassioned embrace, figuring she’d expect that from a man she was sleeping
with.
She sighed softly.
The gentle sound stopped Connor dead, undoing his best
intentions, making him powerless to resist the boy still inside, so damn
wanting of her. He halted in the middle of the second-floor hall and held her
as close as he could.
“Am I getting too heavy?” she whispered, hugging him in
return. “I can walk.”
She could barely speak. Her words were labored, dulled with
drowsiness.
He wasn’t faring much better. Carrying her down that long
flight of stairs had winded him, not that Connor was about to admit defeat or
let her go. “Hey,” he panted to his brother, “get the double doors at the end.”
Mitch remained slouched against the beige silk wall, arms
dangling at his sides, a string of condoms hanging from one hand. “There’s two
on either side of us. Let’s use one of these rooms before you drop her.”
“I am too heavy,” Nikki said, uncrossing her ankles.
“Don’t,” Connor ordered her, then growled at Mitch, “Get the
fucking doors.”
Grumbling, he moved toward them. “That decorator you hired
better have put a bed in there big enough for all three of us.”
“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”
The custom-made mattress was wide enough for six adults and
dressed in snowy white linens. They contrasted beautifully with the sleigh-bed
frame, its dark cherry wood polished to a high shine that reflected the rain
wiggling down the windows. Positioned around the bed were wing chairs in maroon
leather, providing comfortable seating for anyone who cared to observe what
went on in this room.
Connor had designed it for a future graphic novel and film
he had in mind, one that’d take place in the present. Modern art on the walls
and numerous houseplants—from ferns to a variety of indoor palm trees—gave the
place a contemporary feel.
“Wow,” Nikki mumbled, clearly fighting to stay awake. “Are
those chairs…” She didn’t finish.
“Did she fall asleep?” Mitch asked.
Felt like it. Her weight had increased exponentially. Connor
strained to hold her. “Nikki?”
“What?” Her body jerked. “What was I saying?”
“You wanted to know if those were chairs,” Mitch said. “They
are. Are you having trouble seeing?”
“Only when I close my eyes.”
Connor smiled, unable to help himself.
Nikki stretched as well as she could given her position.
“Are the chairs there for guys to view the show on the bed?”
Connor’s grin faded. “Not today. I told them to stay
downstairs.”
“’Cause you’re the director.” She rubbed her mouth against
his collarbone, a measure of endearment he hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure
whether to accept.
“Sounds like they’re having a great time,” she said.
The gangsta rap had gotten seriously louder. Female squeals
now joined the men’s laughter.
Mitch closed and locked the door. “Not as good as we will.”
“You’re sure?” She drove her fingers through Connor’s hair,
cupping the back of his head, keeping him to her.
He wasn’t going anywhere, at least for the rest of this
weekend. Didn’t she know that?
“There aren’t any bedposts to tie my wrists and ankles to,”
Nikki said, then paused to yawn long and loud. “Sorry. Isn’t that going to be a
problem?”
“Your inability to stay awake?” Mitch asked.
“No.” Her laughter was tired and throaty. “The lack of
bedposts…if you guys intend to keep me captive so you can take and tame me for
your own gratification.”
“Believe me, we do,” Connor said.
She nuzzled closer and breathed, “Then you’ll have to tie my
wrists to the chandelier.”
Fashioned to resemble a circle of lilies opened to the sun,
it hung over the bed, inviting men to do just as she’d said.
Mitch headed for the mattress. With Nikki still in his arms,
Connor padded across the cushiony carpet to a door on the far left of the room.
“Aren’t we going the wrong way?” she asked, sounding ready
to fall asleep again.
“Hey,” Mitch called out. “What are you doing?”
Using his shoulder, Connor pushed the door open and lifted
his elbow to flick on the switch. Wall sconces in contemporary designs glowed
with honey-colored light, illuminating the bath that was all oatmeal-colored
marble and gold fixtures, similar to the others in this place. However, this
room was larger than the rest, owning more square footage than any of the
houses he and Mitch had lived in with their grandmother.
Connor carried Nikki to the glass-enclosed shower, roomy
enough for four couples to use at the same time.
The resistance in her muscles told him she’d interrupted her
slumber to regard the area. “We’re going to take a shower?”
“Nope.” Bringing her inside, he put Nikki on her feet.
“You’re going to lie down and I’m going to wash you. Take a snooze if you
want.”
Her brows lifted at the marble benches against the walls, an
upgrade for the lazy bum who’d originally owned this place. Rumor had it, he
considered himself too rich to stand up and wash like the rest of the populace.
At least until the market crashed and he lost everything.
Mitch shuffled inside and shook his head. “The bed’s more
comfortable.”
True, but Connor had so many long-denied fantasies to act
out, sleeping wasn’t something he intended to do right now. He put a waterproof
cushion on one of the benches and helped Nikki down to it. Without direction,
she spread her legs and lifted her arms above her head, offering herself to
him.
For this weekend alone, he reminded himself, even as his
cock stiffened and his good intentions crumbled. “If you’d prefer the
mattress,” he said to Mitch, “no one’s stopping you.”
His brother muttered an oath and fell to his knees at her
side.
Nikki made a face at the nasty crack of his bones against
marble. “Mitch, you’re tired. You should sleep.”
He rested his forehead against her thigh. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” She ran her fingers through his tangled
hair. “Take a nap on one of the other benches. You can do the back of me once
Connor gets through with my front.”
“That’s the best part,” he griped.
“And it’ll still be here when you get up, in every sense of
the word.”
“She’s got a point,” Connor said. “You’re beyond flaccid.”
Mitch bared his teeth, but did grab another cushion and
slung it on the next bench.
The moment his brother had settled in, Connor went to the
control panel. The designer had placed jets at various heights with a variety of
flows from brisk to gentle. He selected one that mimicked a soft summer shower,
barely stronger than mist.
Nikki moaned at the heated water drizzling on her. “Oh wow,
that feels so good.”
“Whu?” Mitch asked.
“She’s talking to me,” Connor said.
Mitch offered no challenge. His arm hung over the side of
the bench, his knuckles resting on the floor, his mouth sagging open in sleep.
Leaving all of Nikki to Connor.
She arched her back and stretched, her nipples pointing in
his direction. Despite the shower’s humidity and heat, her areolas had
constricted. The sign of a woman who was sexually excited.
Testing her reaction to him, Connor observed her nudity
while lathering his hands with magnolia-scented soap. From the moment he’d
known she’d be here this weekend, he’d prepared, ordering his crew to stock the
toiletries she’d like, along with the chocolate all women craved.
He went to his knees. Smiling, Nikki reached for him. “No,”
he said. “Keep your arms up. I touch you. You don’t touch me.”
“Not touch you?” Her hand hung in the air between them, her
fingers poised near his diamond stud. “For how long?”
Damn if he knew…until he was sated? When that would be was
anyone’s guess. “Just do it, Nikki. This is my show.”
“I won’t disappoint you, Connor. I swear.” She dragged her
arm back to where it had been and lay before him. A female feast of dewy,
flushed skin and rounded contours.
He wasn’t certain what to cleanse first. Her nipples,
breasts, cunt and mouth all begged for his attention. “Close your eyes,” he
said.
“Why?”
He leaned so close the tips of their noses just about
touched. Her breath was hot against his lips. It took a colossal effort of will
not to kiss her, but he managed. “Slaves don’t get to ask that question. Just
do it.”
She did not. “Is that what I am to you? A pretend slave?”
Her question caught Connor off guard, rattling him,
demanding he open his heart to her as Mitch had done. He pulled back and
frowned. “If I get this lather in your eyes, it’s going to sting, all right?”
“With me buck-naked, you’re going to wash my face? Why?”
Too much glitter still hid her freckles and he needed to see
them. He wanted her to look as she had when they’d first met. Fresh faced and
guileless. Not that he was willing to tell her that. “If that junk you’re
wearing gets in your eyes, it could scratch them. Then we’d have to take you to
the ER, they’d put a patch over your eye and the rest of the weekend would be—”