Emma Holly (41 page)

B.G. grinned back at her, stretching his spine and arching his neck, letting his cock flex deeply into her sheath. She made a very sexy picture straddling him. She planted her hands on his chest as if to hold him down.

"You like this," she said, her pussy giving a delicious, grasping pull. "You like it when I ravish you."

B.G. was dizzy with the truth of what she claimed. He wanted to say a prayer that he could know this pleasure all his life.

"Maybe," he said instead. He placed his hands at the bend of her thighs and gripped, anchoring her firmly at the bottom of her stroke. "And maybe I like giving Eric a chance to play."

Eric
had been stroking Charity's hair before she rolled, but he moved behind her at B.G.'s cue. That they'd planned this part ahead of time was clear. Eric retrieved a bottle she hadn't noticed lying on the bed. It sloshed when he tipped it, then again when he set it down. Even without touching her, his body seemed to vibrate against her back. The hands he dropped to her shoulders were warm and oiled. When they began to knead her, she knew she was a goner.

"Ooh," she said, never having gotten a massage
while
she was having sex. Eric knew just how hard to press and where, finding all the knots she'd picked up studying.

If Sylvia hadn't been jettisoned already, Charity would have suggested B.G. let her go.

"Oh, boy," she said as Eric's thumbs cruised down her spine, her hips rocking languorously on B.G.'s cock. "This has got to be nirvana."

Eric didn't stop with her spine. Oil was dribbled down her front and rubbed in until she felt as relaxed as if she'd been baking beneath a Caribbean sun. His motions behind her were like the ebb and wash of the waves. His erection slid in the oil, over her curves and between her cheeks, making her buttocks tingle with his passage.

Eric didn't push inside, but he hardly needed to to send her libido into ultra-high gear. She noticed his whole body this way, rather than just his cock. He rubbed her with his hands, with his arms, with the warm, crinkly hair of his chest. All of him became a sex organ to her.

Later
, she thought with a private smile,
we'll try out the rest of the arrangements
.

Seeming enthralled, B.G. watched everything Eric did: every pull of her tight, shiny nipples, every bunching of the muscles in his thighs. Her own thighs were still imprisoned by B.G.'s hands, and his fingers only tightened as his tension rose. He wasn't thrusting, but his cock was so stiff and full it felt like bone.

After a while, the reclusive physicist bit his lip. "He's not inside you," he whispered, "and after I assured him I wouldn't feel upstaged."

Charity grinned at the way their different minds could follow the same track. "He must not have listened, but he did take me that way back at your house. My first time ever."

The sweat that glittered suddenly on B.G.'s forehead was as arousing as his earlier whisper. "Sorry I missed it. He's good at that."

"Oh, yes," Charity agreed. "Very."

"Next time, I'm definitely watching."

"Hush, you two," Eric said as Charity chuckled. "I'm interested in feeling lots of things tonight." To prove it, he used his fingers to tip down his rigid shaft, gliding its upper surface between her legs until its crown bumped B.G.'s balls.

B.G. and Charity both went "
Ooh
."

Then he slid himself back the other way.

"Now that I have your attention," Eric said, pushing forward with his upper body and, in the process, forcing Charity's down, "I want Charity to thrust in time with me."

At this, B.G. freed his hold on her hips. She could move again, but Eric was controlling how. Each time he slung his pelvis against her buttocks, she was shoved along B.G.'s length. Each time he moved back, she grabbed her chance to rise.

The former boy genius was more than close enough to read her eyes. "You like this," he whispered, echoing her certainty of before. "You like having power
and
being bound."

She was balanced on her forearms and folded legs, with Eric braced above her to protect her from his full weight. Her breasts sat softly on B.G.'s newly hairy chest, her nipples wonderfully sensitive to his texture. To illustrate his point, B.G. cuffed her around her underarms. Mild though the bondage was, the addition of this pleasure to all the others sent her into an altered state.

She… surrendered. There was no other word for what happened to her body, no other word to explain her overwhelming sense of trust. She and Eric moved together, breathed together like one person. She could have laughed with joy, but she didn't need to. When B.G. joined their rhythm, when he began pushing upward and flexing to meet their thrusts, she gave up the last of her need to hold herself separate.

She couldn't guard herself, no matter what the future held.

"Faster," B.G. groaned, sounding not at all like his usual self. "Oh, God, please."

Neither she nor Eric could resist his plea. They moved faster, took B.G. deeper, caught their breath in unison as B.G. tightened and shuddered and twisted his face and body in hard release.

"
Yes
," Eric said as if he were the one who'd burst, and she had to say it, too.

Their encouragement made B.G. moan, still quivering with the drawn-out pleasure of a long-denied climax. Eric's clever fingers found her clit, but it was B.G.'s ecstasy that pulled hers as if attached by chains. No fear marked her fall. Her orgasm swooped from soft to strong, from sweating earth to sparkling sky. Arms held her. Chests warmed her. Eric crushed her to him as his seed spurted on her back. She spiked one final time and went limp.

The sound of two men huffing with completion was sweet indeed.

"Lord," Eric moaned, as if he couldn't believe how good that had felt.

It took a minute, but he eased off her with a sigh, joints stiff from tensing up so hard. He collapsed at B.G.'s side, leaving his other side for her to snuggle up to. The sweat cooling on her skin made her grateful for his body heat.

"My," B.G. murmured. "That was quite exhilarating."

"Quite," Eric agreed with an affectionate little snort.

"Totally," said Charity, and pulled the comforter over them all.

Eric
woke with his stomach rumbling and Charity gone from the bed. Night had fallen while they slept the sleep of the well sated. In the light of the bedside clock, he saw B.G. smiling in his dreams. Amused but also touched, Eric pulled the sheet over his shoulder and tiptoed out.

Charity wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. The baths were empty as well, but a quilt was missing from the second guest room. This led him reluctantly to the balcony. Sure enough, her shadow filled the barely used lounge chair. He pushed the sliding window open, held onto the frame, and shivered. The earlier drizzle had become a fog, diffracting the city's lighted windows into stars. Because he couldn't see the ground, this made it seem as if they were higher up than twelve floors. Eric wondered what the chances were that Charity would let him stay where he was.

"Hey," she said, her smile welcoming. "Come share my blanky." She pulled aside a fold, revealing a flash of lovely, soft-nippled breast. "Come on," she said, understanding warm in her eyes. "If I hold this open much longer, I'm going to get perky."

"Or arrested." Despite the possibility, and his phobia, he was smiling as he squeezed into the pocket of warmth beneath the quilt. There was just enough room on the cushioned cast-iron frame for both their bottoms.

"Mm," she said when she noticed he was naked, too. "Good thing this blanket is big."

"My grandmother quilted it." His voice sounded normal, which was good. Though he was tense, his heart rate was steady. Satisfied he wasn't going to embarrass himself, he tucked Charity's head beneath his chin. As long as no one asked him to make like Spiderman and scale the building, he thought he'd be fine.

"My grandma was a knitter," Charity said as if she knew he needed something else to think about. Her hand settled comfortably at his waist. "She used to compete in national knit-offs. I don't know why, but everything she made was green. My mom was afraid of her, so we didn't see her very often. I did, however, get some really rad Barbie clothes as gifts."

This disclosure seemed to merit one in return. "Grandma Berne was a kleptomaniac."

"No!"

"Yes. We couldn't take her shopping anywhere. And she was strangely obsessed with Hummel figurines.

When my sister was fourteen, she was so embarrassed she wanted us to disown her."

"Oh, too funny."

"Mom didn't think so. She was appalled by Dana's lack of family feeling.' She made her dust Grandma's collection three months running. Then Grandma decided Dana was her favorite grandchild—she didn't know the visits were a punishment—and started treating her specially. Dana liked that until Grandma left her all the Hummels in her will."

"Even the stolen Hummels?"

"We try not to inquire too closely into that. And Dana's too much of an accountant to throw them out.

Some of the old figures have appreciated quite a bit. My dad likes to bait her by giving her new pieces for Christmas—preferably the most mawkish he can find."

Under the blanket, Charity's fingertips stroked his side, tickling pleasantly along his ribs. "Your dad sounds like the one member of your family I might get along with."

Eric rubbed a circle on her back. "Mom would like you, even if I can't promise she wouldn't occasionally put her foot in her mouth. Her family is even richer than Dad's—Rockefeller rich. Marrying Dad brought her down to earth a bit, but sometimes she doesn't understand how regular people live."

Charity's head lifted from his chest, her eyes gone wide. He hoped she understood the significance of him talking about his family. He fully intended that they be part of her life, too.

"Rockefeller rich," she said with a little shake of disbelief. "I can't even imagine."

"Mom's family has a castle in Wales. We spent a few summers there as kids. It was crumbly but pretty fun."

"Huh," she said and fell into a reverie.

Eric let her digest what he'd revealed before he spoke again. "Tell me you didn't come out here because you were having second thoughts."

"About you and B.G.? After tonight? No way! You guys are stuck with me for a while."

"Good," he said, trying to decide if now was the time to admit what he really wanted. She squirmed around and looked at him before he could.

"I was thinking about Sylvia," she said. "What happened to her after I left?"

"Well, eventually she was deported."

"That's it?"

"That's it. They could have charged her with espionage—"

"Or attempted murder!"

"I suppose. But I don't think anyone wanted her talking about what she came to Mosswood for. If she goes back babbling about time-warping machines, most people will assume she's crazy. On the other hand, if a case has been brought against her in U.S. court…"

"Someone might take her seriously." Charity sat up straighter on the lounge, a stripe of foggy light reaching through the gap in the quilt. Eric wondered if she realized how beautiful she was—not just a sex kitten, but a beautiful woman with a strong spirit.

Feeling more for her than he knew how to keep inside, he hugged her gently around the waist. "Sylvia had a younger stepbrother," he went on. "Not a blood relation—in fact, their parents might not have been legally married—but they grew up together. From the sounds of it, they weren't exactly brother- and sisterly."

Charity snapped her fingers. "Arne. That's what she called me by mistake when I was spanking her."

"I believe that is his name," Eric said, impressed by her memory. "Anyway, the stepbrother belongs to a radical anti-American student group that sometimes loans their services to more organized factions. I'm not aware of all the twists and turns, but after Sylvia came to America, the stepbrother convinced her to infiltrate B.G.'s household."

"Is anyone trying to shut down the group?"

"They'll be watched," Eric said. "Fortunately for them, they're not terribly effective. Dana says our government is hoping to use them to find the organizers farther up the chain."

"It all seems surreal now."

"Yes, it does."

"Is it terrible of me to hope Sylvia will be okay?"

Eric laughed. "It's not terrible. It's sweet." Wanting her full attention, he laid his hand on her cheek.

"There's something I need to tell you, between you and me." He let out his breath, then drew it in. Never mind his nerves. Charity had a right to know what he was planning.

"What is it?" she asked, her hand coming up to touch his wrist. "Why do you look like you're facing a firing squad?"

He shook his head at what he was about to ask. Considering how important he knew her independence was, he really had some damn nerve.

"I don't know when B.G. will want to return to Mosswood," he began, "but I'm hoping to marry you, to make promises to you and have you make them to me. I'd like to keep B.G. if I can, but whatever your feelings on that, I think you ought to know my ultimate goal includes you wearing my ring."