Good Enough to Share (Good Enough, Book 1 - Christmas) (4 page)

He didn’t try and
deny anything, or explain. He just shrugged and said what we had wasn’t enough,
would never be enough. He liked men, women, people to whip him, scare him,
people to dominate him and I just wasn’t the type. And so unless I was happy to
share…

I had thought that
all I wanted was a strong man to look after me, but so it seemed did James. Or,
in his case from the pictures I’d seen, a strong man and a strong woman. Or a
whole fucking team of them.

There were no
kids, not even a dog to fight over. Divorce was a hell of a lot quicker and
less complicated than getting married. A lot less planning and no worries about
which relatives to invite.

“I am fine. I’ve
moved on.”

“She needs a good,
no strings attached shag.”

“Do you mind, she
is here and she doesn’t.” I had a horrible suspicion I did though. But if the
whole James, car crash of a marriage thing had taught me anything it was that
my mother was probably right. She led her life in what looked to me like an
emotional vacuum, no hugs or kisses, just work. She skipped the emotional crap
and I was starting to realize she had a point. I’d wasted far too much of my
life waiting for a knight on a charger to rescue me. But I was a bit worried
that I fancied Dane just a teeny weeny bit too much. Which was why, however
much I wanted to run my fingers over his rippled six pack, I’d been doing my
best to keep my hands to myself.

He twisted a lock
of my hair round his finger, the gentle tug on my scalp sending a shiver right
through my body. Then the warmth of his palm was on my head stroking down,
gathering my hair, wrapping it round his hand and the tumbling in my stomach
shot right down between my thighs and every last thought of James and his
tattoo dissolved.

“So.” He slid down
beside me on the floor, and his fingers massaged the back of my neck in a way
that made my heart beat that bit louder and faster in my ears. “Is that a no
shags in general rule or—” I gasped as his other hand rested on my barely
covered thigh, his fingers squeezing with just the slightest pressure on skin
that was suddenly hyper-sensitive, enough to send a rush of dampness into my
knickers “—is it the no strings bit you object to, or the good bit?” His
fingers slid that little bit higher up my inner thigh and all I wanted to do
was squirm down so that they’d cover the remaining few inches.

“I, er I…” Well, I
couldn’t speak. I felt rather than saw Sophie slide further along the sofa,
caught a glimpse of her hair as she leaned forward and unbuttoned the top of
Dane’s shirt so that she could slip her hand in. He was so close to me I could
feel his breath against my neck, my ear.

“Just how close
are you and Sophie?” His soft lips skated lightly down my neck. All I’d ever
talked about with Dane was horses. Shoeing horses, riding horses, feeding
horses. And I’d always had my bum wrapped very securely in jodhpurs and now his
fingers were working their way up to my knickers and his mouth was sending
shivers down my neck. Me and Sophie, close? My pussy clenched at the thought, I
was too turned on to be shocked. Even though I was sure you’d call me vanilla
with a capital V.

 There was a rosy
glow spreading across my chest and it had nothing to do with the outside
temperature, or the embarrassment I was sure I should be feeling. I guess it
was a normal male
reaction, given the
circumstances, for Dane to be thinking about me and Soph, but it confused the
hell out of me as my body and brain fought a battle between lust and common
sense.

He’d stopped
maddeningly short of the top of my thighs but his fingers were still working
and it was turning me on more than I thought possible, and winding me up into
the kind of internal frenzy that normally needed ten minutes of foreplay.

“Touch me.” I
swallowed, ran my tongue over dry lips. “Please.”

Clever fingers
rubbed softly over my covered pussy and I couldn’t stop the quivering sigh as
my cunt clenched in anticipation. “I’d say you two make a good team—” his voice
was as soft as when he was settling a spooky horse, “—and I’d say she knows
exactly what you need.”

“Ye…sss.” My soft
long drawn out word had nothing to do with Sophie or who was right, but
everything to do with the gentle pressure on my seam, the rub that was getting
deeper with each stroke, pressing my damp knickers between my slick pussy lips.
I looked up at him, at that familiar shock of dark hair and those intent eyes
and he paused just long enough for me to see how much he wanted me before his
mouth came down to meet mine.

He smelled of pizza,
of sweet tomato and tangy cheese, of herbs and he smelled of sex, a weird mix
of food and lust that made my lips part and the tip of my tongue reach out to
meet his.

“I do fancy you,
Miss Holly.” He sighed the words into my mouth, our breath mingling and then
his firm lips teased my mouth open that bit wider and he sucked my tongue into
his mouth, and every last bit of careful reserve abandoned me.

I wanted him, I
wanted him now, he smelled of lust and he tasted of lust, and it was as clear
and as much of a turn on as having his cock in my mouth, and it was releasing
every bit of pent up craving as my fingers wound deep into that thick soft
hair. I pulled back a little, drew an uneven breath, and then nibbled his
bottom lip, drawing it into my mouth wanting to taste him, sucking on the soft
flesh until he groaned and shut his eyes. Gradually I ran my tongue up his jaw
line, tasting salt, smelling the bitter tang of beer. The lobe of his ear was
soft under my lips and as I nipped at the fleshy skin he grunted, and when I
circled with my damp tongue over the plump flesh he drew a sharp breath that
resounded deep down in my belly.

“Hell, woman I’m
going to come right now if you don’t stop that.” I don’t know whether the
buttons on my tunic pinged off because he tugged, or because my body was fit
for bursting, but as his hard lips bruised mine and his firm tongue forced a
way deep inside my mouth, a brief rush of cool air chilled my skin. I gasped as
his kisses and bites burned a hot damp trail down my neck and as he sucked at
the sweet spot where my neck joins my shoulder I held my breath, my stomach
trembling with anticipation.

Those big capable
hands encircled my waist and he pulled me down flat on the floor, taking
control in a way that took me so close to the edge I could feel my clit yelling
out in desperation to be touched. And he knew, and he chuckled.

I could smell my
own scent on his hand as he cradled my breast, then his head came down and he
took my sensitized nipple in his teeth.

“Oh fuck.” I don’t
normally swear much but that hard touch, just when I expected a damp tongue or
the warm suck of his mouth just sent a tremor all the way through me and I
grabbed out at his head, clutching his hair, not sure whether I was urging him
on or pulling him away. He blew a waft of air over my damp nipple.

“Stop being bossy,
woman.” He pulled both my arms above my head, pinned my wrists down with one
large hand and I should have felt vulnerable but I didn’t. I was so bloody
turned on, so on the brink as he slowly ran the tip of his finger down between
my breasts, down over my stomach until I whimpered, a whimper that turned to a
moan as he found the throbbing swollen nub of my clit. The pressure of his
touch took me one step nearer to orgasm, and when he rubbed a small circle my
hips bucked and the tremors started.

I bucked again and
yelped as soft cool fingertips traced their delicate way over my inner thigh,
and it had to be Sophie. I wanted to object, pull away, but I couldn’t, the
fluttering tremors were building to waves deep inside me and I wanted the
touch, needed it. It was sweetness and light, so gossamer light against my
skin, tracing circles that matched the smaller ones his firm thumb was pressing
into my clit. He tugged at my nipple with teeth that were hard yet tender,
started to suckle, pulling me in and my whole body was rocking as he sent
spears of want right through my core until I felt like every bit of me was
pulsing, wanting. Heat flamed as his hand rested across my stomach, as the tips
of his fingers kneaded until I moaned. I heard the sound of a zip, and his
groan, a guttural sound vibrating against my breast and although I could still
feel her cool hand against my skin, I knew her other one was on his cock.

“Shit, Sophie.”
His hand briefly brushed over hers on my thigh and then his fingers were under
the soaking crotch of my knickers, his thumb firm against my throbbing clit as
he pressed two fingers deep into my wet pussy. The moment he did it, a tremble
deep down kicked off and I heard myself wail.

“Shh.” His mouth
was on my mound, tugging and pulling at the soft skin in time with his hand and
I knew that one small orgasm wasn’t enough for him. He was deep inside me,
curling his fingers so that they teased my G-spot and the heat was swirling,
that liquid fire of heat that was a peak of pleasure and pain that was always
just out of reach. “Let go, Holly, let go for me.” His voice was rough, edged
with his own pleasure and his breathing was ragged and how he kept going as
Sophie sucked him I didn’t know or really care.

 His tongue
flicked at my throbbing clit, a hard sure pressure that hit a spot I didn’t
know I had and I felt the gasp, a gasp that didn’t just come from my mouth but
from my whole body and then he swore. A barely audible roar that seemed to
shake through him and I knew he was coming. He was still sucking my clit,
pulling in a way that was almost pain, his fingers tattooing inside me and I
had no choice. I had to let go and my pussy was opening up in a slow gentle
throb that I’d never felt before and he was rubbing more and more gently inside
me, sliding his fingers in and out, licking my clit as though he was never
going to stop.

I opened my eyes
and Sophie was the first thing I saw, leaning over me, licking her lips like the
proverbial cat that got the cream. Which I assume she had.

“Want another
beer?”

“Idiot.” Dane
levered himself up on one elbow and kissed the tip of her nose, then he slowly
drew his fingers from their sticky spot and bent to kiss me on the lips.

A man in a pinny
isn’t necessarily a turn on. A naked man, with his back turned to you and a
perfectly toned ass is. Just saying. It was the smell of coffee and bacon that
had got me out of bed. Coffee is one of the few things I count as essential in
life, and the smell of bacon crisping first thing in the morning, well, I
wouldn’t say no.

“Sleep well?” He
turned just enough to flash a smile at me, but it wasn’t the white teeth that
grabbed my attention, it was his chin darkened with stubble. I was staring, I
must stop staring.

“Yeah.” The last
time I’d got up to find a man in the kitchen was a long time ago. James
understood a loaf of bread and a lump of cheese, which he’d cut into precision
slices, but that was about the limit of his interest. And no way would he
venture out of the bedroom dressed in, well nothing. What was I supposed to do
now?

“Grab a stool,
it’s nearly ready.”

He’d read my mind.
Stated the obvious, but the obvious was good. Normal.

“Did you sleep?” I
had told myself I wasn’t going to ask, in case I didn’t like the answer, but I
couldn’t help it. I never was very good at hiding what was on my mind.

“Not really, that
sofa is about a foot too short.” Ah, so that answered that. He pushed a mug of
coffee across the breakfast bar. “Is sleepyhead Sophie awake yet?”

“Not heard any
noises from the spare room yet.” I could have been mistaken but I could swear
his face relaxed a bit. So he’d got questions too. But was he worried that he’d
been missing out on a girlie fest, or was this sharing thing strange for him
too? “She doesn’t really like mornings.”

“Nope, bit of a
night owl.” He touched the back of my hand with the tip of his finger and I
glanced up straight into serious eyes. “From what I remember.”

“We’re—” the
coffee was good, hot but nice and strong so that I got a hit of caffeine almost
before the liquid reached my throat. “—skating round things a bit aren’t we?”
There, I just can’t leave something alone until I know. He leaned in a bit
closer so that I could smell that fresh morning shower smell and kissed me so
gently on the lips that my heart gave a funny flip.

“Eat breakfast
then we’ll stop skating.” I half wanted to say
stop, talk, I need to know
what we’re doing
before the moment went, but he was putting eggs and bacon
on plates and it smelled so good my stomach started to do a jungle rumble. He
put a plate in front of me, soft bread bap topped with crispy bacon and a
perfect fried egg.

“Salt?”

“Sure.” Fingers
too big for the salt bowl picked up a few grains and sprinkled it over. Too
big, but oh so dexterous. I ignored the way my throat was drying at the
thought. “I’ve not had an egg and bacon butty for years.” A dribble of egg yolk
burst out and headed down my chin.

“I can see why.”
He was laughing but his eyes were intent.

I stuck my tongue
out to lick it off, met his finger as he reached out and for a moment we both
froze. Then I couldn’t help it, I sucked his finger very slowly, very
deliberately with my eggy sticky lips. Okay, I’d told myself I wasn’t getting
involved with anyone, but this was different, wasn’t it? This was casual, no
strings, no expectations and we’d already stepped past the friends’ mark.