Muscling In (16 page)

I slipped my hand between my
legs and sought out my clit. I rubbed a firm circle over and around it as
Coben’s thick shaft lodged deep in my back hole.

The filling was so dense, so
consuming. My pussy clenched and my stomach went taut.

“I’m in you so fucking high,”
he said, his pubic hair scratching against my buttocks. “It’s amazing.”

“Yes,” I panted.

“You okay,” he asked, stroking
his hand down my leg, the one he was holding bent. His forearm nudged mine.
“Yeah, that’s it, babe, touch yourself, make yourself come like this, with me
in your ass.”

“Yes, I will…”

He pulled halfway out, then
eased back in. “Imagine what it will be like, me in your ass and Edward in your
pussy. Can you think of that?”

“It will be…so much.”

“Yes, but you can take us, I
know you can. Then you’ll come so hard we’ll have to hold you together, keep
you from spinning out of control.”

“I want that.”

“I know.” He paused as he
withdrew, then sank deep. “And you’re going to get it…soon.”

“Please, please, fuck me,
more, harder…”

He set up a steady rhythm,
almost out, then burying to the hilt. His balls slapped up against me and sweat
grew on our skin, making our bodies smooth together.

My climax was building,
steaming toward me. I kept on frigging my clit, controlling it, waiting until
Coben was almost there with me.

“Are you going to come soon,
babe?” he asked in a strained voice.

His cock was solid in me. His
breaths had become ragged.

“Yes, yes. Now…with you…”

“Urgh…” He pumped harder in
and out of me, the root of his dick stretching my hole.

I sped up my ministrations on
my clit and as I felt his first shudder of release I clenched my fists, held my
breath. My whole pelvis toppled into a series of powerful spasms. My asshole
hugged Coben’s cock as the waves of pleasure from my clit spread through my
pussy to my ass.

“Ah yeah, fuck yeah, like
that, do me like that,” Coben said breathlessly, his face pressing against the
side of my head.

I continued to orgasm,
twitching in his arms as I pulsed through crest after crest of bliss.

Eventually the pleasure abated
and the contractions slowed, then stopped. I was breathing fast as I set a
steady pressure over my swollen clit.

“That was incredible,” Coben
said. “Why the hell don’t we do that more often?”

“Because then it wouldn’t be a
treat,” I said, giggling.

He bit the tip of my shoulder,
then kissed the sore spot. “One hell of a treat.”

“But also as you say, necessary.”

He drifted his hand down my
leg and onto my waist. In one smooth movement he pulled out.

I clenched my ass and swiveled
in his arms, my whole body limp and exhausted.

He pulled me close, his chest
rising and falling against mine as he too caught his breath.

“Will it really work between
the three of us like that?” I asked, needing some reassurance.

“Yeah, of course, and I know
your sweet body so well. I won’t let it happen if it’s going to cause you
pain.”

“I don’t want pain.”

“I know that.”

I hesitated.

“And you’ll really be okay,
with me and Ed…”

“I’ve thought about it a lot.
It’s not fair if you’ve shared me yet I haven’t shared you.” He paused. “And I
know this is your fantasy.”

“But it’s more than that,
isn’t it.”

“Why?”

“Because Ed is Ed. He’s not a
male prostitute we’ve hired for the occasion. I have, well…we have an emotional
connection to him, don’t we.”

“Yes.” He ran his hand down my
back and cupped my ass. “We do, and it’s made me realize something.”

“What?”

“That if you were thinking of
another man, any other man on the face of the planet, the way you’re thinking
of Ed I’d be raging with jealousy. I’d be livid. I’d want to thump the bastard,
but…”

“But…?”

“But Ed, well, he’s different.
I have a history with him. I know him. I loved him so much once upon a time.”

“And maybe you still do.”

“I certainly have feelings for
him, deep feelings.”

“And that makes it okay for me
and him to have sex, have feelings too.”

“Yes, it does. I don’t feel
crazed with jealousy when I see him look at you clothed or unclothed. When I
think about you kissing, fucking, my blood doesn’t boil.”

“That’s good.”

“It is good. It means we can
make your fantasy a reality.”

I nuzzled against him. I knew
Coben wouldn’t share me with anyone other than Ed and that suited me just fine.
He wasn’t excessively jealous but I’d known him to stare down guys in the past
who’d given me appreciative looks and on one occasion he’d threatened an
amorous barman with castration when he’d ignored my wedding ring and asked me
to meet him at the end of his shift.

I sighed and welcomed the
sleepy haze that came over me. Everything would be okay. Ed would be home soon.
Coben and I were as solid as ever and all the pieces of the puzzle that were
our hearts and fantasies were coming together.

Chapter Eleven

“Sian, can you help with
this?”

I glanced up at Drake, who was
studying an image handed to him from a walk-in customer.

“Sure, what is it?”

“It’s a portrait and you’re on
fire with these lately.” He handed me a photograph of a woman in her autumn years.
She had swept up hair, and her head was tilted. A gentle smile graced her lips.
She had mesmerizing blue eyes that stared straight at the camera lens.

“Beautiful,” I said, looking
up at the young man who stood before the reception desk.

“Thanks, it’s my mother.” He
shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. “She passed not long
ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too, mate.” Drake
pressed his hand on the customer’s shoulder.

“You want her in color or
black and white?” I asked softly.

“Black and white if that’s
okay. And just here.” He patted the top of his right arm.

“Yes, that’s fine. I think it
will come out really well there.”

“You got time now or shall I
come back?” He glanced at the door.

Drake looked at me. “What do
you think?”

“Now is fine. Not much going
on.” I gestured to the near-empty shop. “What’s your name?”

The customer exhaled as if
relieved, then smiled. “Nick.”

“Well, Nick, take a seat.”
Drake pointed at a sofa. “Sian will just get the image ready to transfer. You
want a coffee?”

“Please.” Nick sat and linked
his fingers together.

I sharpened a pencil, then
spread a piece of tracing paper over the photograph.

“Nice out there again,” Drake
said, flicking on the kettle behind the reception desk.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “Having a
decent summer, aren’t we.”

“So far.”

I set about tracing the
woman’s face, just the outline.

“Going anywhere on holiday?”
Drake asked from behind me.

“Dunno. I went to Dubai last
year. That was nice. Really bloody hot, though.”

“Dubai, bit of a trek.”

“No, not really, and it’s
something else, you know. Big hotels, nice beach, palm-shaped islands.”

“Didn’t you feel a bit out of
it?” Drake collected the milk carton that had been sitting at my side.

“What do you mean?”

“Well with all their different
rules, culture and that.”

“I guess a bit, but there’s
loads of Europeans there. Not like if you go to Syria or Jordan. Can’t imagine
there’s many white faces in that neck of the woods.”

“Mmm, still not sure I’d go,”
Drake said. “See that woman on the news last night?”

“Which one?” Nick asked.

“Some charity worker. She’d
been helping refugees and got kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics.”

“Oh yeah, I did see that,”
Nick said. “She’s free now, though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but only because the
SAS went in and got her.” Drake spoke with pride. “Best in the world, they
are.”

I paused tracing the mouth on
the photograph. They were talking about Brenda Doll, the woman Ed and his team
had likely rescued. An image of his ruggedly handsome face rushed into my mind,
replacing the pretty female one I was studying. I hoped to hell he hadn’t added
any more scars to the ones he had and that he wasn’t the one who’d been
injured.

“Brave bastards, those SAS
guys,” Drake said. “Wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of them, though.”

“I bet that woman was pleased
to see them otherwise it would have been…”

I glanced up and watched Nick
draw a horizontal line across his throat.

“Yep, they’re a bit fond of
that,” Drake said soberly.

Resuming my tracing, I
suppressed a shudder. If Ed was ever caught by fanatics he’d be a prize
prisoner. Goodness only knew what they’d do to him. It didn’t bear thinking
about.

“Looked like they blew the
place up, from what I could see on the news,” Nick said.

“Yeah, grab and run. Grab the
hostage, then get the hell out of there. Makes sense to take out a few bad guys
on the way.”

“Yeah.” Nick paused. “So I
think I might do Spain this year, or Greece, not sure yet.”

They moved on from discussing
the dangerous mission Ed had probably been part of and as they both sipped
coffee debated the merits of each country’s financial situation and where they
could buy the most beer for their money. I continued to trace the image that
was to go on Nick’s arm and as I did so my heartstrings tugged. I wanted Ed
back with us. He’d been special to Coben for a long time, but he’d become
special to me in a very short space of time. It was as though we were all
connected, drawn together, like fate had planned our destiny to walk on
parallel paths at least some of the time, if not all of it.

I shifted on the stool I was
perched on. My ass was a little tender but it was a nice discomfort and I
relished it. The delicate ache reminded me of the fun Coben and I’d had the
night before. It also made me long for the full fantasy, the threesome he’d
been preparing me for.

Again my emotions spiraled,
twisting in a different direction like a dirt devil in the desert. If only I
could be sure that Ed wanted me the same way he wanted Coben.

Coben had assured me he did,
but I couldn’t be certain. Ed had barely given any indication he desired me in
a sexual way. Even when we’d all been naked in bed together he’d focused solely
on Coben. It was my husband who’d made him hard, stoked his fire and made him
come. From what I could gather not much would have changed if I hadn’t been
there. Which of course was the way it had been five years ago, before Coben and
I had even met.

As I began to trace the
delicate curls of Nick’s mother’s hair I thought about Coben and Ed together.
How they’d been in the past, sneaking about and stealing moments—moments where
they could satisfy urges, kiss, hold each other, talk about the future. The
excitement of a forbidden love, a secret passion, it must have turned up the
heat factor. Love and lust would have boiled over when they’d finally managed
to rip each other’s clothes off. Coben had a high sex drive. He liked sex—a
lot. Several times a week was the norm, and twice in one day wasn’t unusual if
we were on holiday or it was the weekend.

Not that I was complaining.

And if he’d been forced to
wait, if he was frustrated, impatient and it was Ed not me on the receiving
end, I had images of him getting rough and ripping at clothes. None of the
niceties of foreplay, just raw, carnal fucking. Burying deep and pumping until
the need was sated.

A tremble of longing went down
my spine. I’d have loved to see them like that together, need and satisfaction
the only goal. Brawn and burly muscles clashing, cocks raging and ready to go,
and steely determination to get to the end goal glinting in their eyes.

“Sian, Sian…”

Drake penetrated my dirty
thoughts.

“Mmm…?” I asked, looking up.

“You nearly done?” He nodded
at the picture.

I was going over and over the
same few strands of hair, way more than was necessary. “Er, yes, I reckon.” I
set my pencil down and smiled at Nick. “Come on, then, this way.”

****

The portrait tattoo took me
the rest of the day. The shading was complex and I was determined to get the
same soft intelligence shining from the eyes. I figured I’d succeeded when Nick
was shown it and his voice trembled as he thanked me. I noticed a small well of
moisture on his lower lids, which he quickly wiped away.

By the time I’d tidied my
station and filed Nick’s details I was ready for home. I was hungry so nibbled
on a muesli bar as I caught The Tube back to Angel station.

A light rain started to fall
as I navigated the five-minute walk to Bromley Street and I put my head down
and hurried. The air was hot and muggy. Coben had said he’d be working late
tonight. Something had come up with Harold Stern’s new job and he was keen to
keep everything running as smoothly as possible. But that was okay. I’d maybe
have a soak in the bath before starting dinner.

As I rounded the corner I
noticed a sleek black motorbike parked outside our home.

My heart quickened and I
tightened my hold on the strap of my bag that was hoisted over my shoulder.

Could it be?

Already?

Yes. Standing on our step,
knocking at the door was a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in leather. He
still wore his helmet.

Ed. He was back.

I broke into a jog, heat
rising within me and joy spreading through my limbs, adding to my pace.

“Ed,” I called. I was worried
if there were no answer he’d leave. “Ed.”

He turned, saw me, then raised
his hand.

I kept on hurrying. Coben
would be so happy, more than happy, elated, as was I.

Ed walked down the three steps
and stood, feet hip-width apart, as I rushed up to him. I wrapped my arms
around his waist and held him tight with my face pressed against the cool, damp
leather at his shoulder.

His arms stayed loose as if he
were surprised by my grip on him.

I squeezed closer.

“Hey, hey,” he said, wrapping
me up in his thick arms, the jacket creaking slightly as he moved. “You okay?”

“Yes, fine.” I inhaled his
scent, my chest pushing against his as I breathed deep.

“Good.” His voice was gruff.

I pulled back a little and
looked up at him. I couldn’t see his face because his visor was down and all
that greeted me was my own reflection. “Are you coming in?”

Of course he is, why would he be here otherwise?

“If I’m invited.” He pushed up
the visor. There was some bruising under his left eye and both irises appeared
a little bloodshot. But other than that his face was fine, more than fine. It
was perfect because he was here.

“You know you are.” I smiled
and released him. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.” I rummaged in my bag for my
keys, found them, and quickly went up the steps. I opened the front door and
stepped in.

Ed followed close behind.

“How’s Coben?” Ed asked,
watching as I toed off my shoes. The tiles were cool on the soles of my feet, a
sensation I relished at the end of a long day.

“He’s fine. Working late.”

“Is he really?”

“What?” I set down my bag and
turned to him. “Working late?”

“No, is he really fine? How
has he, you know…been while I was away?”

Ahh, I could see what he was
getting at. Ed’s time with Helen had been painful. They’d split because she
couldn’t handle being the one left behind and he’d worried about the emotional
damage he’d caused her by not being there.

“He’s been anxious, obviously.
Wondering if you’re okay. He knows more about it than me. What you’ve been up
against.”

Ed nodded. “Yeah.”

“But we’ve had each other to
hold at night.” I smiled. “He’s been okay, really. He cares about you, a lot,
but he also loves me and I get him. I understand what he needs, when he needs
to talk, when he doesn’t.” I paused. “Being a couple going through worry and
missing someone must be a lot easier than being alone.”

“Yeah, I discovered that
absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. It just crystallizes it into
quietly outraged loneliness and combined with fear that can become a living
hell for a person.”

“Helen?”

He nodded and removed his
helmet. As he did so, I could see the bruise beneath his left eye wasn’t his
only bruise. In fact he had several on that side of his face and more down his
neck.

“What happened?” As I’d spoken
I knew he wouldn’t answer.

I stepped up to him and moved
his collar. The bruising went down his neck, angry and red. It looked like
someone had tried to strangle him. “Ed…?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t fuss.” He moved
away and took his jacket off, hung it on the back of the chair he’d placed his
helmet on. “Worse injuries were taken by some of my team.”

“I’m not fussing, I’m just…”

“What?” He studied me.

“Concerned.”

“Don’t be.” He gave me one of
his sexy but cocky half-smiles that went straight to my chest and made my
nipples tingle.

“Not something I can turn on
and off,” I said, stepping up close to him. Again I looked at the marks on his
neck. They were shocking the way they seemed to circle his throat. I stroked
the tip of my index finger over one. Coben would be horrified.

“Sian,” he said quietly.

“Mmm…?” I stroked over his
collarbone, feeling the shape of it beneath his t-shirt.