The Perfect Third

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

The Perfect Third

ISBN #
978-1-78184-014-6

©Copyright Morticia Knight 2012

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2012

Edited by Laura Hulley

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Total-e-burning
and a
sexometer
of
2.

This story contains 44 pages, additionally there is also a
free excerpt
at the end of the book containing 5 pages.

THE PERFECT THIRD

Morticia Knight

Alexa is young, sexy and single in New York. She’s also alone. When she meets two hunky musicians, will they make her their perfect third?

Alexa is young, sexy and single in New York. She’s also alone. But she doesn’t want to date any more of the stuffy men she meets through her job at the law firm – she needs some excitement. When she meets hunky Lorne, a film score composer, at a premiere after-party, she can’t believe her luck when he asks her out.

After an incredibly hot night of sex, when it seems that this is just the relationship she’s been waiting for, things inexplicably cool down. Does his best friend and roommate, the dangerously handsome Antony, have anything to do with it?

One night the truth of Lorne and Antony’s relationship is revealed to Alexa, and she has a difficult choice to make. Is she willing to just let go and become their perfect third?

Dedication

To my amazing family—you are everything to me!

To Nosferatu—the love of my life.

To K.S.—my first and most loyal fan.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Jimmy Choo: Jimmy Choo Ltd.

iPhone: Apple Inc.

Ralph Lauren: Ralph Lauren Corporation

Ketel One: Nolet Distillery

Stolichnaya: SPI Group

Grey Goose: Bacardi & Company Ltd.

Chapter One

Alexa Wharton unsnapped the front of her deep purple, lacy, push-up bra and let it fall to the floor. With the last bit of clothing off her body, she inspected herself in the full-length antique mirror in her bedroom. Her round, heavy breasts hung beautifully, her large pink nipples peaked from the slight chill in the room. As she continued looking down her body, she smiled in satisfaction at how her Pilates and yoga classes had helped to shape her torso into a lean, but still feminine form. Slightly curved hips, a flat tummy and a perky ass with long legs made her any man’s dream.

Yet, she was alone. She pulled her long, brunette curls into a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back, and scrunched up her slightly upturned nose in the mirror. She was almost twenty-five years old, a quarter of a century. What a thought that was. It was getting scary to think that someone who was as sensual as she was could be this hopeless when it came to finding a deep love and real pleasure in her life.

Perhaps it was time to take the proverbial bull by the horns, or at least his horn as it were, and really make something happen. She had always been attractive enough that having to go after a man hadn’t been a problem—many had approached her. The guys in her law firm in the financial district of downtown New York City never hesitated to come on to her. But she needed to remain professional, while having a social life. So she made do with meeting potential dates at attorney get-togethers where there were men from other firms. She wasn’t much of a bar scene girl, and most of her friends were already in committed relationships.

Throwing on her cream silk robe, she went into the living room of her Soho apartment and opened her laptop. Internet sources might be a possibility. She wasn’t quite ready for an e-date service, but maybe some ideas on the latest hot clubs, or she could look into joining a social group.
This is pathetic
. What sort of lame social group was she going to join? The same old business-minded, straight-laced men were not what she wanted. She had always fantasised about being with a wild and uninhibited male who would open up her mind and body to all manner of erotic thrills. She wanted a bawdy man with staying power. Someone creative and daring, who was ready to turn her on over and over again, all night long.
I wouldn’t say no to a huge dick either
.

Just then her desk phone rang, and she jumped, abruptly torn from her sexual reverie. It was Jill, a very upwardly mobile colleague at her firm who loved to party, but could still negotiate the finer points of a business contract on only three hours of sleep. She was a tall and lanky temptress with a short, red bob who could literally charm the pants off any man.

“Hey, hot stuff,” she cooed into the phone. “What are you doing at home at eight p.m. on a Saturday night, you naughty thing? Or should I say, you not very naughty thing?”

“Ha! I suppose I should ask you the same. You are the one calling me, after all, and I don’t hear the customary laughter and clinking glasses in the background. Nor do I hear any dance beats, so you can’t be at a club. Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch…”

“Now, now. Don’t be cranky with me just because you haven’t had a decent lay in ages. But I may just have the perfect solution for you.”

“Oh really?” said Alexa, secretly marvelling at how Jill’s call perfectly fit her mood.

“Yes, really,” laughed Jill. “Now, a Hollywood producer client of mine has been trying to get in my pants—no big surprise there—for ages. So his latest bid to impress me was to invite me to the New York premiere of
Locked and Loaded
at the Lincoln Centre.”

“That’s awesome, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Stay with me on this. He had to leave town at the last minute, so he had someone bring the tickets over to my office. Well, Bob—you know the guy that just joined the firm from Boston? He was taking me from behind in the conference room, and somehow I might have mentioned this premiere thing. Anyway, I don’t actually want to hang out with Bob. He can screw me or whatever, but I’m not at all interested in going to this thing with him. So I told him I’d already invited a friend. It’s next Friday night. There’s a party afterwards, and I’m willing to bet it will be filled with stunningly fuckable hotties.”

“Well, since you put it that way…” said Alexa sarcastically, but Jill was off on her own agenda.

“Great then! We’ll go over all the details Monday. Now get out there and do the nasty with someone already.”

“Don’t worry, it’s right here on my list. Pick up shampoo, call landlord about leaky faucet, do the nasty. Got it.”

There was a pause while Jill processed the smart-ass commenting that Alexa was known for.

Finally, Jill laughed. “Oh, you! You’re so silly. See ya Monday.”

Alexa hung up the phone and pondered this sudden turn of events. Stunningly fuckable hotties? This did have possibilities. Artists, crazy Hollywood actors, who knew what else? This could be much more exciting than the typical business and financial types who only wanted a quick release so they could go back to scouring the Nikkei index.

She decided this was it, her moment to shine. She was going to go all out, buy a new dress, Jimmy Choo heels, racy underthings. She was even going to get the ultimate ‘I plan to get fucked hard’ accessory—a bikini wax. She had almost a week to pull her quest for hot sex together.

Chapter Two

Lorne McCall gazed down at the hot blonde that was sucking him off, as his best friend Antony Karavidas undressed and watched. Denise, who had amazingly voluptuous breasts, had been doing both of them for almost a month. Both Lorne and Antony agreed she was enjoyable, but in the same way that she was just using them for a good time, they knew she wasn’t the one. The one that would complete the threesome that they craved. The threesome they had cherished when Monika had been with them, when they’d been a triplet.

A trio of sex, yes, but just like the music that Lorne and Antony created for a living, the three of them had been like a triplet in a song—in unison, completely joined. He still couldn’t believe she had decided to go back to her native Denmark, everything had seemed so good. The past year without Monika had been difficult, and Antony had tried to convince Lorne that she’d been a trial run for the real thing. The woman that would complete their triangle, and then they could all devote themselves to one another in spirit, heart and definitely in body.

Until then, there were women like the lovely Denise. Beautiful, sexy, but completely uninterested in Antony and Lorne’s desired lifestyle. A night here and there of searingly hot sex was fine, but it was all in fun.

Lorne sighed loudly enough to make Antony raise an eyebrow, a trademark look for him. Lorne winked to let Antony know that it was all right, just a passing moment. Denise continued slurping and sucking Lorne’s thick, long shaft hungrily. She was seated at the end of the bed, and Lorne stood in front of her, guiding himself in and out, knowing Denise’s deep throat capabilities only too well. Antony, now completely nude, sat on the edge of the bed, next to them, and began to rub his cock while enjoying the show.

It had been almost ten years now since Lorne and Antony had met as music students at Juilliard. Lorne was a typical East Coast bred, all-American, blond male. Antony, on the other hand, had shoulder-length, wavy, black hair, and was the second generation Greek god that had made all of the girls at Juilliard swoon in ecstasy. Lorne hadn’t exactly been short on swooning ladies either, but he didn’t have the same exotic edge as Antony. He seemed more like the solid, safe guy a mom and dad wanted a girl to marry.

Lorne and Antony had hit it off immediately. Both had been very serious about their musical aspirations and studies. But while Antony had eventually become more invested in being a conductor on Broadway—as he was a bit of a showman—Lorne had become a very sought-after film score composer. Between the two of them, they were financially well off, sharing a penthouse in Manhattan that overlooked Central Park.