DIRTY[COMPLETED]✔️

Chapter Ten

“This is the place you took me to, the day we met.” I looked up at the sign, which showed a rather grisly drawing of a wolf’s head, mouth tearing into the body of a sheep. “The Slaughtered Lamb.”
“Very observant.” He held the door open for me to go inside. “Let’s find a table.”
“I could hardly forget a place with a name like that. Do they serve food?”
“Very good food.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m starving.”
We found a table toward the back and sat. He smiled as he handed me the menu, which featured traditional pub food like fish and chips and shepherd’s pie. He grabbed the beer list.
“Me, too.” He studied the list. “I’m glad you eat.”
I laughed. “Of course I eat.”
“No. I mean you eat,” Dan said. “I take some women out and they just nibble.”
“Oh.” I kept my eyes on the menu and fought back a blush. “Well. No, I don’t suppose I miss many meals.”
“Hey,” Dan said so I’d look up. “I like that.”
“Do you?” As he had the habit of answering his own questions, I had a habit of posing ones that didn’t need any.
He grinned. “Yeah. I do.”
Compliments, unless they’re about my mental prowess, fluster me. Not because I automatically assume the person giving them isn’t sincere, but because I am never quite sure if they expect me to give them one in return.
“Good” was all I said, and looked up as the waiter approached. “I’ll have the fish and chips, please, with malt vinegar and tartar sauce, and fries. And…a Guinness?”
I looked at Dan, who nodded. “Make that two. Of everything.”
The waiter, who couldn’t have been any older than the minimum drinking age himself, smiled. “Hey, a chick who drinks real beer. Cool. Most girls drink light beers.”
Dan looked at me, then the young man. “She’s something else, this one.”
The waiter nodded, two men sharing an appraisal. “I can see that.”
It struck me, their differences. Dan, clean-cut but not preppy, favored expensive business suits or khaki pants, oxford shirts, whimsical ties. Today he wore dark denim jeans, straight-legged, low slung and a white T-shirt beneath a scoop-necked black sweater of fine knit, light enough to wear in the summer heat, the sleeves pushed up on his forearms. Casual but not sloppy.
The waiter, in contrast, wore his jeans cinched with a black leather belt studded with small spikes. His dark hair looked like silk, shorter in back and long in the front to fall over one eye. Tattoos covered his arms and multiple piercings ornamented his ears, his eyebrow. His nipples, too, I noticed through his tight white T-shirt. He had eyes of startling blue and a voice that spoke of too many cigarettes, pitched lower than you’d expect from someone so slender. He flashed me a smile of brilliant, white teeth, and I understood why the group of girls sitting in the corner had been giggling when we came in.
“What’s your name, man?” Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
He offered me the pack and I took one, a man’s brand, not a dainty menthol or clove cigarette. I let him light it for me and sucked the smoke in deep, holding it long enough to impress both of them before letting it out in a series of rings.
“Nice,” admired the waiter. “I’m Jack.”
“Dan.” They shook hands. Dan indicated me with a slight lift of his chin. “This is—”
“Jennifer.” I gave the false name without pause.
“Nice to meet you, Jennifer,” said Jack and he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.
I glanced at Dan, who smiled through smoke. I looked back at Jack, who could have been flirting with me, or just being silly. I didn’t seem to be his type. Too old, too conservatively dressed.
“Be right back,” he said. “Holler if you need me.”
Okay. The look he gave me proved it. Definitely flirting. I watched him head toward the bar, stopping to elicit another round of giggles from the college girls. He looked over his shoulder at me and shot me that striking grin again.
“He thinks you’re hot.” Dan stubbed out his cigarette.
I’d barely smoked mine, but I put it in the ashtray to smolder. “Does he?”
“Definitely.”
I gave him a thoughtful look. “Does that bother you?”
There was no reason it should. I was simply curious. Dan grinned.
“Nope. Why’d you give him a fake name?”
“I don’t like just anyone knowing my name.”
“So you usually give a fake one?”
I tidied the menus and put them back in their holder. “Yes.”
“You told me the truth.”
I looked into his eyes, and we shared another of those looks I couldn’t quite describe. “Yes.”
“Lying to someone about your name could cause trouble later, if you want to know them better and they find out you started off the relationship with a lie.”
“I told you the truth,” I said evenly. “Why should you care what I tell anyone else?”
“I guess I don’t.” He looked to the bar, where Jack was filling glasses with our Guinness. “Do you think he’s good-looking?”
I studied the waiter. “He’s young.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“He’s cute,” I said. “He’s got that punk-band Goth look going on.”
Dan lit another cigarette. “If you weren’t with me, would you go home with him?”
I didn’t answer right away, because Jack came back with our drinks. He set them in front of us, flashed me another grin and told us our food would be out shortly. He seemed disappointed when we told him we didn’t need anything else right then.
“I might,” I said when Jack had moved away to take care of his other customers. “I doubt it, but I might.”
“Do you want me to leave, so you can?”
I think he was trying to shock me, or at least to gauge my ability to be shocked, but all I did was pick up my cigarette and make some more rings. Dan leaned back in his chair and drank his beer. His gaze speared me.
I speared him back. “Do you want to leave so I can?”
He glanced at Jack, then leaned in close to me. “I want to watch you with him.”
The cigarette stopped on its journey to my lips. Dan’s face was very close to my cheek. I gave my head the slightest tilt.
“Do you?”
He nodded and nuzzled the spot just below my ear for a second. “Yeah.”
I ground out the cigarette and pulled away from him to drink some beer. My stomach fell away and heat swirled within me. I drew my cardigan together at my throat then laid my fingers on the beads embroidered along the collar. I rubbed them with my fingertips before putting my hand flat on the table.
“You just want to watch?” I blinked and drank more beer as I waited for Dan to answer.
He looked at Jack again. “Did you have something else in mind?”
I, too, looked at Jack, who caught us both staring and gave me a small nod. I looked back at Dan, but when it came right down to it, the words wouldn’t come out. What do you say to the man you’re fucking when he asks you if you’d like to fuck another man?
“You want to fuck us both.”
He always knew the right way to say it.
I nodded, unable to put voice to my assent, though the thought of it alone was enough to make me wet.
Dan looked thoughtful. “That would make you happy?”
“Happy?” I laughed. “I don’t know if it would make me happy, but…I think I’d like it. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do that?”
I nodded at the group of girls in the corner. One of them was giving the other a lap dance, earning applause and appreciative glances from a covey of young men at the table next to theirs.
“Girl-girl action,” I murmured. “Bisexuality is the new black.”
Dan leaned forward again and loosed my hair from its twist. He finger combed it around my shoulders and slid his hands through it at the back of my neck as he whispered into my ear.
“If I asked you to fuck another woman, would you?”
I had to swallow against my dry throat before I could answer. “If you wanted me to.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Christ, Elle, you’re so fucking…I can’t…”
He pulled me into an embrace I wasn’t expecting. He pressed his face into the side of my neck, breathing me in, his hands warm on my back. I sat, stiff, uncertain if I’d done something wrong or too right.
He sat up and looked into my eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I shook my head. “Don’t say that. I don’t like it.”
He put his hands on my face, then traced my mouth with his thumb. “You’ve got the hottest fucking mouth. Do you like that?”
That made me smile. “I have a big mouth.”
“Who told you that?” He stroked his fingers through my hair again, almost like he was petting me, a gesture that took me aback but pleased me at the same time.
“My mother. My brother.”
“Ah,” he said. “What do they know?”
I didn’t answer. He traced one of my eyebrows. I felt silly, but let him do it.
“If I asked you to be with another woman, that would be for me. Not you.”
I shrugged a little, bewildered at what he was getting at. “I guess so.”
He took his hands away from my face and looked over his shoulder at Jack by the bar. “But that would be for you.”
I had no words for a moment. “Dan,” I said at last, and this time I was the one who leaned forward to touch him. I put my hands on his shoulders, our knees touching, our eyes meeting. “What is this all about? What is this? Why are we doing this?”
He slid his hands along my arms, circled my wrists, then took my hands into his. “Fuck if I know. But I don’t want to stop, whatever it is.”
What sort of picture we made, holding hands so close like that, gazing earnestly into each other’s eyes, I don’t know. I didn’t care. That simple touch excited me and yet grounded me, too. I was excited but not anxious.
Sitting there in the Slaughtered Lamb with Dan holding my hands and asking me if I wanted to take him and Jack to bed at the same time, the numbers went away. Like he’d turned off a switch in my brain the same time he’d turned one on between my legs. Desire made me forget counting, but it was Dan who made me feel comfortable enough to let it go.
I looked at Jack once more. “Do you think he would?”
“I think he’d give his left nut to get in your pants.”
“Very nice,” I told him. “So elegantly put.”
Dan laughed and leaned forward to nuzzle my neck again. “Yes, Elle, I think Jack would love to fuck you.”
He slid his hand under my skirt as he said the words, between my thighs, straight to my lace-covered cunt. He touched me, and my body jerked. He nibbled my earlobe, then pulled away while I tried to catch my breath.
I’d finished half my beer when the food arrived, but felt as drunk as if I’d had three. Jack set our plates in front of us and gave us silverware and napkins. I kept my gaze on the table as Dan made small talk with him, and he went away.
We ate. Grease slicked our fingers, and the malt vinegar puckered my mouth. The food was delicious, eating it a sensual pleasure heightened by Dan feeding me bits of his fish with his fingers. Messy, silly, but very, very sexy.
He sighed and pushed his empty plate away, wiped his fingers clean and patted his stomach. “Good stuff.”
I hadn’t managed to finish it all, but neither had I left much on the plate. Jack, who’d left us alone while we ate, appeared.
“Can I get you a box for that?”
I shook my head. “No, thanks.”
That grin again. It transformed his face. I wondered how many skirts that grin had lifted. Probably a lot.
“Anything else tonight? Something else to drink?”
I shook my head again. Dan leaned back in his chair. His arm stretched out to grip the back of my chair. Possessive.
“Actually, Jack, we were wondering what time you got off work.”
Jack didn’t skip a beat. “In about half an hour.”
I couldn’t look away from him. The stud in his tongue flashed when he spoke, and I imagined what it would feel like on my skin. It would be warm from his mouth, I thought, and my nipples hardened.
“Then I guess maybe we’ll have another round of Guinness,” said Dan. “And wait for you?”
Jack gathered up our plates and trash while he answered Dan, but looked at me. “Sure.”
It was as easy as that. I watched Jack walk away. This time he didn’t look back over his shoulder at me. He brought us beers a few minutes later. Dan paid our check. We drank, and Dan talked, a steady stream of observations requiring little answer on my part, and I was grateful he didn’t expect me to speak. I wouldn’t have been able to. All I could think about was what was going to happen.
Dan chose the motel, and Jack followed us on his motorcycle. I stayed in the car and watched him smoke a cigarette while Dan got us a room. My palms hurt and I looked down to see my nails had made crescents in the skin. I rubbed the palms together to soothe the marks away.
Dan closed the door behind us all and locked it while Jack set his helmet and leather jacket on the chair by the window. I didn’t know quite what to do, just that my every muscle felt stretched taut in anticipation, every sense heightened.
They made it easy for me. Jack moved forward and took me in his arms. He was taller than Dan by an inch, and at first it felt awkward, the adjustment, the way I had to tilt my face up higher to look at his. He held me against him for a moment and kissed my cheek, my neck, my jaw, like he knew I would refuse him my mouth.
Dan came up behind me and swept my hair to the side to kiss the back of my neck. His body pressed mine, his hands on my hips, pulling them back against his groin. Jack moved closer in the front, pushing his bulging crotch against my belly.
This was what I’d thought about sometimes, when I touched myself. Being surrounded. A man in front, a man behind, strong arms holding me and two mouths leaving wet marks on my skin. Sandwiched between them, I didn’t even have to worry about standing upright, because they kept me from falling.
Two mouths. Four hands. Two erections, as yet shielded by clothes but impossible to ignore as they pressed their bodies to mine. Dan ran his hands along my thighs, inching up my skirt and sliding his hands beneath to find my bare skin. Jack tugged my shirt from my waistband and worked the buttons without fumbling. They both kissed me. My neck, throat, shoulders, back, over my clothes and under, leaving no spot unattended while they undressed me as swiftly as if they’d rehearsed it.
I stood in my bra and panties, still wearing my shoes. Jack glanced over my shoulder at something Dan did and nodded like they had an entire language I didn’t understand. Dan nibbled the back of my shoulder, and Jack got on his knees in front of me.
I startled at how suddenly he dropped. His head was at my waist. I backed up a step in reaction, but Dan was there to keep me from fleeing. His sweater was soft on my bare skin.
“I—”
“Shh.” Dan whispered in my ear. One hand curved on my rib cage, just below my breast. The other anchored my hip.
Jack put both his hands on my hips, one a little higher than Dan’s. He leaned forward and kissed my belly. My muscles leaped, but their hands kept me still. His lips skated the edge of my panties, just below my belly button, and I tensed further.
Arousal had beaten anxiety, but anxiety was making a comeback. Jack was too close to putting his mouth between my legs. I didn’t want that, didn’t like it, couldn’t have it, but I couldn’t move.
“Shh, Elle, shh.” Dan soothed me.
Jack kissed my hip bone. Then my thigh. Then…my knee. A giggle shot out of me as his hands closed around my calf and he stroked downward, lifting my foot to slide off my shoe. Then the other one. He looked up at me with that grin, a pretty boy on his knees in front of me.
“We’ll take care of you,” Dan said. “See?”
Jack nodded. “Are you scared?”
“No.” I wasn’t, then.
Jack grinned again. “Good.”
He kissed my other knee and got to his feet. He took my hand. Dan left me for a moment to strip the comforter off the bed and then he took my other hand, and together they led me to lie down, my head on the pillows.
“Look at her,” Dan said. “Fucking gorgeous, right?”
“Helluva hottie,” said Jack.
Dan pulled his sweater and shirt off over his head. Jack did the same. They kept their eyes on me as they undid their belts, slid jeans over hips, kicked off their briefs and peeled off their socks. I envied their comfort with their bodies. If either of them worried about the other’s pecs or abs or length, width and girth, they didn’t show it. They simply stood naked it in front of me like they were offering themselves for my approval.
It was easy to give. Dan, a little shorter but with a broader build and more hair on his chest, was already familiar. Jack, taller, decorated with ink on his pale, smooth skin and the nipple rings I’d guessed at, had almost no hair at all.
But he had something else.
“Oh, my God.”
Jack laughed, looking down at his cock. His pierced cock. The ring, large enough to look scary, lay against the side of the head.
Dan looked down. “Jesus, man. Why would you do that to yourself?”
Jack laughed again and stroked himself, up and down, hand passing over the ring. “I’ll let her figure that out.”
I blinked, fascinated. “Come here.”
He obliged, crawling up the bed to kneel next to me. I got up on my knees to look closer. I touched him, and he made a little noise. I stroked him, up and down, the way he’d done. The ring rubbed my palm, the metal warm and smooth.
He sighed and put his hand over mine, pumping it up and down. “That’s good.”
Dan joined us on my other side. He unhooked my bra and took it off, then covered my breasts with his hands and kneaded them gently. He teased my nipples erect, his mouth hot and wet on my shoulder blade.
Dan put his hand down the front of my panties, rubbing me in circles while I stroked Jack. I moaned when Dan touched me, my clit already swollen with desire. With subtle movements of his other hand, Dan shifted me so I was no longer on my knees but sitting between his legs, my back against him, his hands making magic with my breasts and cunt and his mouth sucking gently on the side of my neck.
Jack’s breathing had quickened and I looked up at him. His grin was no less bright, though his eyes were a little glazed, and sweat had beaded along his hairline. His hips pumped forward, into my fist. He put his hand on my hair, tangling and tugging it a little, which made me cry out and arch further into Dan’s touch.
Dan’s penis throbbed against my back. He let his finger slide lower, then up again to rub my moisture on my clit. Jack put his hand over mine, squeezing the fingers closed over the head of his cock, stopping me.
“Slow up,” he whispered, that smoky voice making my body contract with pleasure.
“Gonna lay you down,” Dan murmured.
He did, moving from behind me and pushing the pillows beneath my head to make certain of my comfort. The two men shared a look, and both reached to hook their fingers in my panties and ease them down. I lifted my rear to help them. Jack tugged the lacy material over my knees and tossed them on the floor, then knelt in front of me and bent my leg at the knee to rest my foot on his thigh. Dan caressed my other leg, then my hip and belly, his eyes on me, his smile reassuring.
Jack kissed my knee again, and I giggled again, the sound breathy and hoarse. He moved a little to kiss my calf, then the bone of my ankle. He took my foot between his hand and massaged it, then pressed a kiss to my instep. My whole body jerked, but his hands had closed around my ankle and kept me from kicking him by accident.
It had tickled, that kiss, but also sent a bolt of sensation so strong it felt like he’d slid his cock inside me. My thighs parted and my hips lifted in reaction. I bumped Dan’s nose with my hand, and he winced, proving once again that really good sex needs choreography.
“Warn me next time you make her do that,” Dan said.
Jack laughed, his eyes locked on mine. “I think she liked it.”
I should have cared, maybe, that they spoke of me like I couldn’t respond, but I didn’t. There was something sexy about it, the two of them talking about me the way I imagined men might talk about women when they think we can’t hear. If they’d softened their words, tried for romance, attempted to woo me, the situation would have seemed ridiculous.
“She’s got pretty
feet.” Jack kissed my sole again, letting his mouth linger, and again I moaned. “See how it makes her squirm?”
Dan nodded as he passed the flat of his hand down over my breasts to my belly. “She’s wet. Touch her.”
Jack put my foot down carefully and leaned forward to touch me. He licked his lips and again I saw the tongue stud flash. “I bet she tastes sweet.”
Dan looked at my face when Jack said that. I must have looked panicked again, because he reached up to brush the hair from my face and cup his hand on my cheek.
“No,” Dan said. “That’s not for you.”
Over Dan’s shoulder, I saw Jack nod, as though he’d expected an answer like that. Dan looked into my eyes and then kissed the corner of my mouth. Respecting without complaint the distance I felt ridiculous for enforcing. I put my hand on the back of his neck and held him for a moment to stare into my eyes.
Whatever he saw there must have satisfied him, because he smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, then took my hand from the back of his neck and kissed the palm. He sat up.
“Suck her nipples,” Dan offered. “She likes that.”
Jack nodded and slid up my body to take my nipple between his lips before I even had time to take a breath. I’d been right about the tongue stud. Like the ring in his penis the metal was warm and smooth, and I gasped as he worked it against my flesh.
Dan took my other nipple in his mouth, and I looked down. One dark head, one fair, so close together but focused both on me. I wondered if they would kiss each other, or touch, and the thought of that made me gasp again, so Dan looked up at me.
I licked my mouth, and he smiled, glancing at Jack, who looked up from what he’d been doing. They shared a look, then both started laughing. It made me laugh.
“She’s got a sexy laugh, doesn’t she?” Dan asked.
“She’s got sexy everything.” Jack suckled my nipple again as his hand slid between my legs.
Jack stroked my clit, his touch different than Dan’s. Less sure. I found the skipping hesitation of his fingers unbearably arousing. Everything in my body had begun to draw together, tighten, contract and tense. I had to force myself to remember to breathe.
Dan put his hand between my legs too, for one moment holding me while Jack kept up his uneven pace. Then I felt a finger slide inside me, followed quickly by another, and I made a noise.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered. “Let’s see if we can get her to do that again.”
They had taken away from me the need to speak. They didn’t expect me to answer, or to reciprocate. They took care of me, Dan sometimes murmuring direction to Jack, who took it without seeming to bristle. Two men working together to bring me pleasure.
I opened my eyes. They were both looking at me, but not my face. Their expressions of concentration would have made me giggle if I’d had the breath for it. They both stared at my cunt like it held the secrets of the universe. Dan fucked me with his fingers while Jack kept his attention on my clit, but both seemed fascinated by my body and its responses.
It should have made me self-conscious but I was too close to coming to worry about whether or not they liked the way I’d shaved my pubic hair. My hips lifted, pressing harder against both of them. Dan looked up at me and withdrew, making me sigh in protest.
“Sit up, baby,” he said tenderly, and helped me.
Together they moved me to the edge of the bed so my feet met the floor. Dan slid around behind me, straddling my back and pulling me to rest against his chest. Jack, who’d been busy putting on a condom while Dan arranged me, settled between my legs and put his hands on my hips.
“Doesn’t it rip?” I had to ask.
He grinned and shook his head, that silky hair falling over his eye. “Nah.”
My heart pounded in trepidation but I let Dan pull me back against him. My head fit on his shoulder, his lips at my temple, his hands clasping my ribs just below my breasts.
“Are you ready?”
It was sweet of Jack to ask, and I wanted to give him an answer but my throat had closed and I could only nod. He shifted his feet and gripped his cock at the base, guiding it to my opening. He didn’t push inside me right away.
“Shhh.” Dan whispered into my ear, brushing the hair off my neck so he could kiss me there. “Relax.”
Jack pushed inside me, bit by bit. I tensed, expecting pain from the metal piercing his penis, but felt only a different sort of pressure. He was longer than Dan, and when he pushed inside me to the hilt I squeaked at the sensation. Jack looked up, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Christ, she’s tight.”
Dan’s cock, pressed to my back, leaped at the words. “I know.”
Jack swiped hair from his eyes and put a hand on my shoulder. He looked at me. “You all right?”
The solicitude from both of them touched me. Aroused me. They could have made this such a bad experience, but they weren’t.
Again, I nodded, not trusting my voice. Jack smiled. Dan kissed my neck.
“Fuck her now,” Dan told him.
Jack nodded and looked at me for confirmation. I licked my mouth. “Yes, Jack. Fuck me.”
At the sound of my voice, hoarse with longing, Dan shuddered. Jack throbbed inside me. Then, with deliberate concentration, he began to move.
With Dan behind me, I didn’t need to worry about falling. He supported me. His mouth on my skin transported me even as Jack’s cock inside me did the same. Jack fucked me slowly for a few strokes, then hooked his hands beneath my knees, bending them, pushing me back harder against Dan and deepening the angle.
I cried out. Jack didn’t stop, but he did murmur, “Okay?”
“Yes,” I managed to say. “Oh…yes.”
Dan’s penis, hot and hard, rubbed my spine with Jack’s every thrust. Dan’s breath got hoarse in my ear. He slipped a hand around to caress my clit while Jack pumped in and out of me, and the dual pleasure clawed my fingers into the bedclothes, scrunching the fabric in my fists.
I had imagined different ways two men would fuck me. One in my mouth, one in my cunt. One in each hand. One entering me from behind while I sucked the other one off. I had never imagined this, being held snugly from behind, my every need anticipated and granted.
I looked to the side, at the mirror over the dresser. As neatly as a painting, it framed us within it. Three people, a woman caught between two men who held her like she was something precious. I had to blink to make sure it was me.
Sweat from Jack’s brow dripped onto my belly. His face contorted, but he kept his pace steady, not losing himself in climax just yet. The three of us rocked together. Dan took his hand from my clit for a moment to hold it in front of my mouth.
“Spit.”
I filled his palm with saliva. He slid his hand between us and I felt his fingers close around his cock, lubricating it with wetness from my lips, and the thought of what he was doing excited me even more. In another moment he’d pulled me back against him again and returned to stroking my clit, but now his penis slid more smoothly against my skin. It fit into the groove of my spine as neatly as Jack’s cock fit into the cleft of my cunt, and I thought of my body accepting and surrounding both of them and bringing them pleasure, and my cunt bore down in its first pleasure spasm.
Jack let out a grunt. His fingers dug into the backs of my knees. His thrusts got harder, jamming me against Dan. I was close. Jack was close. Dan seemed to be getting the short end.
“Dan?”
“Shh, baby,” he whispered, fingers never ceasing their perfect circling. “I’m almost there.”
I know we could have gone on for only a few more minutes, but I lost track of time. Everything became focused on the pleasure between my legs. Sights. Sounds. Smells. Sex.
We moved harder, faster. Skin slapped and sucked. Someone moaned. I cried out. Someone said my name, my real name, but I didn’t care, too caught up in what was going on.
“I’m gonna come.” Jack panted the words. He thrust harder. His eyes closed and his head tilted back. The smooth line of his throat mesmerized me.
“Come with us,” Dan said. “C’mon, Elle. Go over.”
I would have, even had he not urged me toward it, but hearing him speak helped me along. For one instant the universe had become a giant fist, closing. Then it opened, tossing out the stars and moons and planets and comets, and I went with it, surrounded by the cosmos. Pleasure so fierce it left me breathless arched my back and I heard myself cry out, wordless.
Slick heat spurted against my back and Dan’s hand on my hip bore down hard enough to leave red marks. He groaned and thrust against me.
Jack thrust inside me once more with a shout, then stopped, shuddering. He moved a second later, once, twice, then stopped again, head bowed. More sweat dripped onto my skin. He shook a couple times, then loosened his grip on my knees and let them gently down.
We stayed like that for a moment, a tableau of satisfaction. Muscles in my back and legs ached, but not unpleasantly. Dan kissed my temple again and smoothed his hands up and down my sides, then cupped my breasts. Jack withdrew a moment after that and left me cradled in Dan’s arms.
I wasn’t quite sure what to say even after I’d regained the capability. I watched Jack take care of the condom with practiced ease. He turned, gave me that grin again.
“Mind if I take a shower?”
I shook my head.
“Toss me a towel, would you?” Dan asked.
“Sure thing, man.”
Jack disappeared into the bathroom, tossed a towel toward Dan, who caught it, then went back in. The shower started running. I sat up, and Dan wiped my back with the towel using slow, gentle strokes.
I turned to look at him. He’d settled the towel across his lap. He smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I answered.
He reached out to smooth my hair from my face. “You all right?”
I was all right, but I paused for a second, waiting for guilt or anxiety to arrive. They didn’t. All I felt was content and a sense of wonder as in “Did that really just happen?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Good.” His hand on the back of my neck, he pulled until I leaned toward him so he could brush his lips across my cheek. “I’m glad. Was it what you expected?”
I laughed. “No.”
“No?” He frowned. “Not good?”
“Better,” I told him and let my hand touch his face for a second.
He grinned. “Well…that’s good.”
I chewed my lower lip for a moment. “Next time, we can get a girl. If you want.”
He laughed and pulled me toward him again, into a hug I allowed but didn’t really return. His hands caressed my back, and he breathed in against my hair. He held me like that for a few moments, then let me go.
“We’ll see” was all he said.
Jack came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back. He headed for his clothes, lifting them and shaking them to begin putting them on. He took off the towel and rubbed the rest of his skin dry, then rubbed his hair, tossed the towel to the floor and pulled on his boxers.
“You heading out?” Dan kept his hand on the back of my neck.
I, naked, suddenly wished for something to cover myself with. I stood, meaning to head for the shower myself. Jack gave me another of those brilliant grins, which made me feel less naked and more like giving him another try. He had a real talent, that pretty Goth boy.
“Yeah,” he said to Dan. He laughed a little, shaking his head. “You were right, man, she is smoking hot. You two call me anytime, okay?”
I caught Dan’s gaze. He didn’t bother looking ashamed. Stunned, I watched Jack dress and leave the room, closing the door behind him. I backed into the bathroom, still steamy from his shower, and I turned on the water again.
“Are you mad?” Dan said from behind me as I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside.
I said nothing, just let the water cascade over me. Dan came to the shower, silhouetted through the plastic. He pulled it open, mindless of the water spraying onto the floor.
“Elle, talk to me.”
I turned the tiny bar of soap over and over in my hands, creating palmfuls of lather. Jack had used this soap before me. Jack had fucked me. Jack had fucked me because Dan had asked him to.
“Should I be mad?” I asked finally, not looking at him. I rubbed my hands over my body, replacing the aroma of sex with the scent of harsh hotel soap.
“You told me you’d never done a lot of experimenting. I thought you’d like this. You did like it.” He spoke without accusation or defense of his actions.
I looked up. “How did you know I would?”
He smiled. “You’d have told me no. We’d have gone home and left him there. No big deal.”
I turned my face into the spray, deciding if I should, indeed, be angry. “Did you have a girl picked out, too? Just in case?”
The words came out more bitter than I’d thought they would. I opened my mouth to let it fill with water, to rinse away their taste. The water pounded in my ears, but I had no trouble hearing his reply.
“No.”
I said nothing, then, unable to forget the way it had felt to have Dan behind me and Jack in front. How they’d held me between them and given me pleasure without expecting me to do anything but accept it, and how that had given them pleasure, too. How Dan had done this because he thought it would please me and for no other reason.
He got in the shower with me, and I made no protest, though I kept my back to him and didn’t make any attempt to share the water. He reached around and slid a hand between my legs. He was gentle there, using his fingers and the water to clean me, not soap as though he understood it might irritate the sensitive flesh. He parted my folds and the water pounded my clit. His finger rubbed me, and my clitoris responded to his touch by getting hard.
The shower was small enough that even when he pushed me up against the back wall the water still poured over us both. My skin was red from it. His face had flushed. Steam wreathed us and the steady pounding noise masked the sound of our breathing.
He aroused me again with his hand between my legs and his mouth on my throat. Slippery with soap and water we slid against each other. I reached for his cock and stroked it, making him hard again, and that pleased me, that I should be able to rouse him again so soon.
“Did you like watching him fuck me?” I asked, looking into his eyes.
He nodded, hips pushing forward to pump his penis into my fist. “Yes. But I like it better when I’m the one inside you.”
We had no condoms in the shower, and for the first time with him I wanted him more than I wanted to be safe. That scared me, and he must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he pulled me close and held me under the water for a moment before moving back to look into my eyes. My hand hadn’t stopped moving. Neither had his.
He smiled and made me smile, too, in the way he had of making everything so easy. “You’re still so wet. Tell me I do that to you.”
“You do this to me,” I replied obediently.
“Say, ‘Dan, you make me wet.’”
I smirked a little, eyes rolling to look up at the water falling around us. “Dan, you make me wet.”
He circled more insistently and pumped himself harder into my fist. “Say, ‘Dan, I love it when you fuck me.’”
“Dan…” His name became a moan as his touch sent me closer to the edge. “I…”
“I love it when you fuck me,” he repeated, his own voice hoarse.
“I love it when you fuck me.” I shuddered.
“Tell me you’re going to come.”
“I am,” I said with a gasp. “Oh, fuck, yes…I’m going to come.”
I did, a smaller burst of pleasure than when the three of us had been together but no less excellent for being less intense. My fingers gripped his penis harder, and I twisted my wrist, pumping him.
He muttered a curse and put a hand on the shower wall to support himself as he leaned into my touch. He put his head down. Water parted his hair and ran down the back of his neck, made a river in the seam of his spine and the crack of his buttocks. I stroked him harder. Faster. With a hoarse shout he pushed against me, and I smelled the sea-musk scent of semen for but a moment before the shower washed it away.
He shuddered against me. “I think I need to sit down.”
Alarmed, I twisted the faucet to cool the water. “Are you okay?”
He laughed. “Jeez, Elle, you’re amazing.”
I didn’t feel amazing. I felt…exhausted. I needed to sit, too, but the shower was no place for it. I turned off the water and hooked the last two towels from the rack, handed him one and wrapped the other around my body before stepping out.
“Be careful,” I cautioned. “According to the National Safety Council, eighty percent of all household accidents occur in the bathroom.”
Dan got out and put the lid down on the toilet to sit on it. He rubbed his hair dry. “Can you get me a glass of cold water?”
“Sure.” I took the paper lid off one of the glasses and filled it with water, handing it to him before filling another for myself. It slid down the back of my throat, refreshing.
“Thanks.” He drank it down and set the glass on the sink, then stood and rubbed his body dry. He tossed the towel on the floor, lifted the toilet lid and began to urinate.
This intimacy sent me fleeing from the bathroom with burning cheeks and thudding heart. Why I should be embarrassed to watch him take a piss when I’d just jerked him off, I don’t know, except that his comfort with the act triggered something in me. I recognized it as foolishness but didn’t bother to fight it. Some people have a few buttons. I have many.
Dan came out of the bathroom a moment later and came up behind me to wrap his arms around me. I let him do it as I’d done all the other times, though I stiffened a little. He kissed my shoulder blade.
“What is it, exactly, about being hugged that you don’t like?”
I shook my head with a little laugh, using that as an excuse to move from his embrace and start retrieving my scattered clothes. “Who says I don’t like it?”
“You do.”
“I’ve never said that.” Skirt. Panties. Bra. Shirt. I found them all.
“Your body says it.”
Dan seemed in no hurry to dress, or to leave. He sat on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, apparently completely comfortable in his nudity. I, on the other hand, had already stepped into my panties and was hooking my bra.
“Some people are more…tactile…than others.”
He watched me pull on my skirt. “You don’t think you’re tactile?”
I shrugged, feigning disinterest in the subject as I put my arms through my sleeves and buttoned up my shirt. Dan got up and came around behind me again, his hands on my shoulders. I looked up, into the mirror that had earlier reflected our triumvirate and now showed only two. His eyes met mine once more in the reflection. He ran his hands up and down my arms to the elbow, then up again to my shoulders.
“You tense up when I touch you like this.”
“Do I?” An old trick. Asking a question to avoid giving an answer.
He nodded, fixing his gaze upon my mirror eyes and holding me there. “Yes.”
I shrugged again, a little. He moved closer, aligning himself along my back, and put his arms around my ribs, his hands gripping his own forearms. His chin nestled into the curve of my neck and shoulder.
“You didn’t tense when we were on the bed and I held you this way.”
I said nothing. He stared at me a moment longer, then let me go with a sigh. I finished buttoning my shirt and tucked it into the waistband of my skirt, doing up the zip and button. I smoothed the wrinkles and reached for my purse to find a comb, which I dragged through the wet weight of my tangled hair.
Dan dressed quickly and in silence. I didn’t like the awkwardness where there had been none before. I knew it was my fault. I knew he wanted something from me, but I didn’t know how to give it. It irritated me, that he couldn’t just take what had happened at face value. That he wanted more.
I yanked my comb through my hair, forcing away the snags hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. The comb caught on one particularly nasty tangle, and I let out a curse when I couldn’t seem to get through it.
Dan said nothing as he took my comb and lifted my hair. I stood still, suddenly incapable of moving, as he worked the teeth through the knot, inch by inch. Strand by strand. Patient, gentle, never forcing the tangle but instead encouraging it to part. When he was done and the comb slid through my hair from crown to ends without catching, he handed me back the comb.
“I’ll be in the car,” he said, and left me to stand alone and stare at a mirror that had once reflected three and now only showed one.