Authors: Sami Lee
Her lips curved then, her whole face—hell, everything in a ten-foot radius—brightening as a result. “Perhaps you’re right.”
That smile, beatific and sincere and a little goofy from one-too-many glasses of chardonnay, wrapped warm fingers around Griff’s heart and squeezed.
Fuck no. Your heart’s supposed to stay out of this, remember?
“So tell me.” Corey reached across the table and gently tugged on a strand of Erica’s hair, bringing her attention back to him. “We didn’t get to number one. What’s your all-time favorite movie?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Erica’s smile widened as she reclined against the back of her chair, a dreamy expression on her face. “If it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon, my favorite thing to do is curl up on the sofa with a packet of Tim Tams and watch
An Affair to Remember
.”
“Haven’t heard of it.”
“Corey!” Erica admonished. “How can that be? Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr in the most romantic movie of all time.”
“Come on,” Griff chimed in. “You call martyrhood romantic?”
Erica returned her attention to him. “You’ve seen it?”
“My mother loves old movies.” It occurred to Griff that Erica would get on well with his mother. He quashed the random thought before it could take root. “I think I saw it twenty times growing up in that house.”
“Then you know. They’re both involved with other people but the attraction is so strong that they
have
to be together.”
“But then when she has the accident and doesn’t show up at the Empire State building, she never gets in touch with him to tell him why. That’s pretty stupid.”
“How could she tell him she couldn’t walk?” Erica argued. “She knew she’d be a burden to him and she couldn’t bear that.”
“Jesus, Erica. If he really loved her, looking after her wouldn’t have been a burden, and if she’d loved him she would have realized that. You know what I think? I think she never contacted him because she was scared—scared that he’d reject her because she wasn’t perfect.”
“His name was Nickie.” Erica studied him with those soft brown eyes, as though trying to work out if he meant what he said or if he was having a lend of her. “And maybe she was right to be afraid. Nickie was used to ideal women, he fell in love with Terri when she was perfect in his eyes. How could she be confident he’d choose to be with the lesser version of her out of anything other than pity when he had so many other, easier options?”
Griff got the strangest feeling they weren’t talking about the movie anymore. Familiar clouds had gathered in Erica’s eyes, and it was only when he recognized them that Griff realized why she looked so different tonight, so much more breathtaking than she ever had. It wasn’t only the incredible dress or the sultry makeup. The sadness he’d always sensed in her had lifted. Her smile tonight had been heartfelt, her manner lighter, even playful.
Now, that aura of sorrow had returned, and Griff cursed whatever it was about this discussion that had brought it back. If she’d still been sitting forward, Griff knew he would have reached across the table to take her hand, so powerful was his desire to reassure her there was no need to be wary or frightened around them. The last thing he or Corey wanted to do was hurt her.
Forcing himself to remain seated instead of going to her, Griff finally replied. “Love isn’t about doing what’s easy, Erica. Love is hard, and sometimes it hurts like hell. But it’s real and it’s human. It makes us what we are.”
He hadn’t meant to sound so bloody deep and meaningful. He was trying to keep this thing purely sexual—at least as far as Erica was concerned. In Corey’s case, the love boat had left port years ago. But Griff figured he could still protect himself from Erica and the probability that she would eventually take Corey away from him.
If
he refrained from bandying the L word around like it held some special significance.
It didn’t—couldn’t. He was going to have wild sex with Erica and Corey tonight simply because if he didn’t his brain might well explode. In every other way he had to keep himself separate or risk losing his mind.
It was time to stop pussyfooting around Erica for Corey’s sake, because Corey still thought this could be some grand affair and he didn’t want to blow it by scaring Erica off again. Griff wasn’t so sure Erica was that easy to frighten, not the way she seemed tonight—calm, self-assured and confident.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
“You know what? I never told you how damned delicious you look tonight, Red.” When the door had opened and he’d been bombarded by the twin enticements of Corey filling out his sexy blue shirt and Erica wearing a knockout green dress that skimmed her impressive curves, he’d nearly tripped over his own tongue. He was going to have to take better control of this situation—starting now. “Actually, I think the word I’m looking for is fuckable. You, Erica Shannon, look good enough to fuck, and once Corey and I get started with you, I don’t think either of us is going to stop until sunrise.”
The sudden shift in Griff’s demeanor shocked Erica, but she stifled the gasp that threatened to pierce the quiet. The fragrance of blooming gardenia floated around them on a warm October breeze, mingling with the vanilla scent of the candles. The soft lighting and the comfortable conversation had lulled her into a sensual trance, keeping her desires simmering when they could easily have boiled over.
Griff had gone to a lot of trouble to create a romantic atmosphere, and that had touched the traditional, feminine side of her that wanted to be romanced. Why would he do that if he was only going to revert to brash, blunt type?
“I want you to go sit on Corey’s lap.” Griff’s voice was husky, his tone low. “Tell me if he’s as hard for you as I think he is.”
Erica flushed hot, unspeakably aroused despite the instinct that told her she ought to be affronted. Beside her, Erica sensed the tension in Corey’s body. “Go easy, Griff.”
Griff flicked Corey a look before returning his focus to Erica. “What do you say, Red? You want me to go easy on you?”
This Griff was the man she knew, the one who’d initiated their first threesome, who’d taken what he’d needed from her on the hard floor of her living room without explanation. This man, she realized, was easier to handle than the one who’d stocked his fridge with the wine she liked and decorated their outdoor nook in candlelight, all so she’d feel more comfortable. Meeting Griff’s challenging gaze, Erica found that the answer came more readily than she would have expected. “No.”
Griff smiled and there was something almost like pride in his expression. “There’s my girl. Now, go on and do what I told you.”
Heart galloping, Erica pushed back her chair. Corey watched her approach, his blue eyes smoky. His chest moved up and down in the taut confines of his shirt and through the black material of his trousers she saw the bulge of his erection.
Erica could hardly wait to feel that hardness against her, but when she went to sit down Griff stopped her. “Wait. Give me your panties.”
This time her gasp was audible in the thick atmosphere. “Pardon me?”
“You heard me. I want your panties, Red. Give them to me.”
Wet heat pooled in the pit of her belly, sliding downward, spilling onto the underwear in question. He’d know how drenched she was if he had access to her panties.
That’s probably the point, Erica.
Slipping her hands beneath her dress, Erica pulled the underwear down and off. When she handed them over she
really
regretted that she didn’t own anything black and brief. Griff examined them, an amused smile tugging at his insolent mouth. “These are cute, but we’re going to have to buy you something prettier one of these days.”
Then he brought the underwear to his nose and inhaled the perfume of her excitement.
Erica’s knees buckled. Corey reached for her, grasping her by the hips and settling her onto his lap before she fell. “Hey, baby. Are you okay?”
In answer Erica sought his mouth with her own. He responded with hunger, sweeping her up into passion even as his sturdy arms grounded her. The rock-solid length of him nudged her hip. When he lifted a hand and settled it over her breast, Erica wanted that fabric gone. She longed for the burn of his hands on her skin.
“Turn her around so she’s facing me, Cor.”
With a stuttered breath, Corey did as Griff said. Erica wiggled in his lap, getting comfortable on his groin. Corey grabbed her hips to still her. “God, baby.”
“You like the way that feels?” Griff asked her. “Corey’s hard cock pressed between your sweet ass cheeks?”
Erica nodded. She shifted on Corey’s lap once more, forcing a groan from him. His breath was hot on her neck as he placed his lips to it and swirled his tongue over her skin. “I like the way
that
feels,” Corey said. “You turn me on so much.”
She dropped her head back on his wide shoulder, angling her face so her lips were a hairsbreadth away from his. “So does Griff. Doesn’t he?”
“
Yes
.”
From across the table there was the sound of creaking timber as Griff shifted in his chair. His words carried a harder edge than they had a moment ago. “That dress looks easy to take off. Just like unwrapping a gift. Corey, unwrap our sweet little present now, our own wet and willing fuck toy.”
On her hips, Corey’s fingers flexed. Erica sensed his struggle not to tear at her clothes. “We’re outside.”
“No one can see through the hedges.” His tone held amusement. “There would have been complaints long before now.”
So he’d had other women out here—probably in every room of his house. Erica knew she wasn’t the first or the last, and that was okay. She’d decided to live in the moment, hadn’t she? A person in that frame of mind didn’t think about the future, didn’t care about the past. To Griff, she was one of many, nothing special. His own wet and willing fuck toy.
It was a truth she could hold on to. No matter how dangerous Corey was to her heart, Griff would be there to remind her that all she had with either of them was sex. She was an amusement, a novelty to be indulged in when they wanted the variety of a woman between them.
Taking Griff at his word about how concealed they were from the neighbors, Corey tugged at the bow that held her dress in place. The material fell open. Although the night air was sultry, gooseflesh rushed over Erica’s skin. No matter their level of seclusion, there was something undeniably naughty about having her flesh bared to the open air.
Easing her forward, Corey slipped the dress off her shoulders and unhooked her bra. The layers of covering fell away, leaving her sitting on Corey’s lap, naked. Her thighs rested atop Corey’s, so when he spread his legs hers moved too. The night air didn’t seem so balmy when it caressed her heated folds. Corey was free to touch her everywhere and Griff… Erica looked across the table to find him watching with hot intensity as Corey cupped her breasts, lifting them as though showing them to his friend.
Corey brushed his thumbs over Erica’s nipples and they pebbled under Griff’s watchful gaze. “Such beautiful, perfect tits.” He murmured the praise as though entranced.
Erica’s arousal mounted to painful heights, and she ground her ass into Corey’s crotch. The fabric of his pants was an irritant, a reminder that both men were fully dressed while she had been laid completely bare for their enjoyment. Being placed in such a vulnerable pose should have made her uneasy. Instead it excited her, made her feel free.
In this position, she felt like a woman with nothing left to fear.
Corey’s hands trailed downward. His fingers burrowed into the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, finding it damp and sticky. “Jesus, Griff. She’s so wet.”
Griff took something out of his back pocket and tossed it across the table with a flick of his fingers. The foil-wrapped condom landed in front of them. “I want to see you fuck her.”
Finding her slick entrance, Corey buried two fingers deep inside. Erica rocked into the touch, emitting a helpless moan at the deliciousness of it. “Do you want that, baby? You don’t mind if Griff watches while I put my dick in this tight space?”
Looking across the table, Erica saw how Griff’s gaze was fixed on the movements of her body as she ground against Corey’s crotch. “I want him to watch.”
Griff’s eyes burned as they met hers, their irises glowing gold in the amber light cast by the candles and the myriad lights strung around them, dotting the darkness like tiny fallen stars. “Dirty girl,” he said. “Corey’s going to have to fuck you extra hard for that comment, so hard it hurts.”
That kind of pain Erica would gladly accept. “All right.”
Behind her, Corey’s breathing grew harsh. “Stand up for a sec.”
Erica did as he said, bracing her weight on the table in front of her. Corey groaned, grasping the backs of her thighs and easing them farther apart. With his thumb he breached her core, probing her depths in teasing little bursts, in and out. Erica’s arms trembled. She lowered to her elbows, relieving some of the burden of supporting herself. Her breasts pressed against the tablecloth, the cotton teasing the tender points as she moved back and forth in time with Corey’s playful thrusts.
Across the table, Griff watched her, his eyes hooded and his manner lazy, as though he could enjoy seeing her suffer like this for hours. The tension inside tightened unbearably. “Corey, please.”