Authors: The Sextet
The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)
After a bit, he realized he wasn’t simply glancing at her anymore, and he wasn’t singing to the crowd. He was singing to
her.
All the love songs, hurting songs, and songs filled with yearning. He wasn’t teasing her anymore, wasn’t flirting… No, he was
pleading
with her.
Finally tearing his eyes away from her, he focused them on the dancers in front of the stage—the wild gyrations and tossing hair, the sparkle of jewelry, the gleam of eyes. He wanted to be out there with Geneva. Words wouldn’t do anymore. Actions were required.
The set ended, and Rhys leaned into the microphone. “The bar will be closed for a little while.” Waving down the protests from the crowd, he added, “For anything fancy, that is. You see, the regular bartender will be…
busy.
”
A few people nodded with knowing grins, some seemed mystified, while still others voiced their approval.
Geneva apparently belonged to the ranks of the mystified. Even as Rhys put down his guitar and motioned to the guys to follow him, her eyes changed—those glorious jade-green eyes that went so well with her softly curling auburn hair—as she realized his intent. God, but she was beautiful. Just looking at her made him long to write lyrics, to bare his soul and hand it to her on a platter. He’d allowed himself one song, one that he’d put heart and soul into, but he’d yet to sing it for her. He would do it someday…when the time was right.
Pulling Brayden to his side, he whispered instructions and then strode across the ancient wooden floor and hopped over the bar. Geneva took a step back but didn’t flinch, nor did she protest when he swung her up in his arms. The times he’d dreamed of holding her were no match for the reality, but it was short-lived as he passed her over the bar to Sean.
Brayden had followed his directions well, and Helen slipped behind the bar, a sly smile touching her lips.
Rhys slid back over the bar and met Sean on the dance floor. Nigel had found the right song on the jukebox, and the babble of voices hushed as the intro began and then Paul McCartney sang “And I Love Her.”
Sean set her on her feet, and Rhys moved in behind her as Nigel and Brayden approached. Rhys buried his face in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent as he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her up snuggly against his groin, his erection nestled in the cleft of her luscious bottom. It was all he could do to keep from pulling up her skirt and plunging into her, but this was a seduction, not an assault. As he sang the lyrics that Lennon and McCartney had written long before he was born, Sean and Nigel joined in, their voices blending in a harmony that never ceased to astonish him.
Brayden couldn’t sing a note, but the boy could dance, and he slipped in between Sean and Geneva with a grace that was surprising in a man that, despite his twenty-five years, still could’ve passed for a gangly teen. Sean stood back, never taking his eyes off Geneva. Rhys relinquished his position to Nigel—easily the most romantic-looking member of the band, with a mop of dark curls tumbling onto his forehead and long sideburns that would have looked wrong on anyone but a poet, or a rock star. His slender frame gave him an air of fragility, masking the latent strength Rhys knew he possessed. Nigel took her hand and kissed it, drawing her into his arms, away from Brayden.
She suited each of them perfectly, her natural poise and grace allowing her to adapt to each new partner with ease. The song had been an excellent choice—lyrics, tempo, message—but it was too bloody short. Rhys wanted to play it again, but someone else selected another song—“Unchained Melody”. Poignant and filled with longing, it conveyed even more of the emotions he felt and was certain that his mates felt as well.
She was the piece missing from all of their lives. They not only wanted her. They
needed
her.
* * * *
Nigel held Geneva in his arms, nearly choking on the lump in his throat. They’d all dreamed of this, but the news had come so suddenly they hadn’t had time to plan their strategy.
Don’t blow it,
Sean had warned. Like he’d do it intentionally. He tried to sing but couldn’t. “You’re so beautiful.” The words sounded empty and meaningless, even to him, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Not really.” Geneva sounded quite normal, as though four men tried to make her their lover every day. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you guys.”
“Helen told Sean you’d broken up with your boyfriend. We figured it was now or never.”
“Aha,” she said with a slow smile. “Trying to catch me on the rebound, are you?”
Nigel shrugged. “Been trying for the past two years. You might have warned us.”
The sound of her laughter warmed his heart. Nigel loved the way she laughed. It was…musical. “You say that as though I had any control over the timing. It wasn’t my idea, you know.”
“It should have been. He was all wrong for you.”
“Maybe, but that’s hindsight—not the sort of thing you can see at the time. I mean, other people might see it coming, but I certainly didn’t.”
“Did you see
this
coming?”
“What, dancing with four guys? No, though Rhys has been teasing me about it for ages. Look, Nigel, I like all of you, but if you expect me to choose—”
“Oh, but, you see, Gen, that’s the beauty of it,” he whispered. “You don’t have to choose. You can have all of us.”
Chapter 2
“So, the stories are true. You guys are more than members of a rock band who just happen to share a house.”
Nigel nodded. “We’re very…close.”
“I was afraid of that. Look, Nigel. It’s hard enough competing against other women in this life. If I hooked up with you guys, I’d have to compete against other men, too.”
He leaned in and kissed her, his lips warm and gentle upon her own. Geneva’s resistance began to crumble. “There’s no competition. We already care for each other. We’d adore the chance to show you how much love we have to give.”
“I still don’t understand why you only want one woman. Why not one for each of you?”
“Dunno why,” he replied. “We tried it with one girl—freaked her out after she had time to really think about what she was doing—but we loved it. The trick is to find the right woman.” He smiled seductively. “We all believe you’re the one.”
Geneva snorted a laugh. “Now all you have to do is convince me.”
Nigel’s grin took her breath away. “That’s the plan.”
If anyone could convince her, it would be Nigel. Still swaying to the music, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, threading his strong fingers through the hair at her temples while gazing deeply into her eyes. His dark brown eyes weren’t glazed with lust, but were lit with the soft glow of love, augmented with just the right touch of passionate fire. His body was hot and hard, promising immeasurable delights.
Another song began to play, but Geneva was so wrapped up in Nigel’s movements that she didn’t even register the title or artist. She only knew that the tempo was slightly faster, and the lyrics more earthy. His dancing reflected the change, and his undulating hips ground his stiff cock seductively against her mound. Fire shot through her core, unleashing a flood of moisture between her thighs.
A moan escaped her lips as she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. “You two are making me so hot,” Brayden sighed. “My willy’s gonna fuckin’ explode.”
Nigel chuckled wickedly. “See what you do to us? Bray’s normally more of a bottom than a top.”
“Mmm…yeah,” Brayden agreed. “Dearly love gettin’ me arse nailed, but you make me want to fuck some hot, wet pussy.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
“No, really. ’S the truth,” Brayden insisted as he pressed against her with a sinuous pelvic thrust. “Cross my heart.”
Geneva had a feeling she was about to get her own ass nailed because whatever Brayden was poking her buns with was enormous. His tongue traced the shell of her ear, sending tingles racing from the point of contact. When he sucked her earlobe into his mouth—earring and all—Geneva’s knees buckled and her hips curled upward, thrusting her aching clitoris toward Nigel’s groin. Brayden followed her movement, keeping his erection firmly ensconced in the cleft of her buttocks.
No longer silent, the crowd was cheering them on, their whoops of raucous laughter punctuated with shouts of encouragement.
All of which brought Geneva’s senses streaking back to acknowledge their complete lack of privacy. She jumped back from Nigel’s grasp, knocking Brayden on his ass.
The onlookers voiced a collective groan.
Rhys was laughing. “If you’d wanted to see the show,” he admonished the crowd, “you should’ve kept your mouths shut.” He reached out and pulled Brayden to his feet. Then he dropped his arm around Geneva’s shoulders, drawing her close. His lips touched her ear as his voice sent shudders of helpless desire rippling through her body. “The offer stands, Gen. All you have to do is accept it.”
Brayden was more direct. “Think of it, Gen. Four hot, dripping cocks—and you can do anything you want with ’em. All yours to suck, fuck, lick… Whatever you like.”
An image of all four of them stripped to the skin, coupled with the realization that Geneva had never in her life had as much cock as she wanted, had her staggering against Rhys. Sweat combined with her wool sweater, making her skin prickle. There was no point in denying it. She wanted to be naked and skin on skin with each and every one of them.
Sean leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “Four cocks, four tongues, eight hands… Come on, Geneva. Give us a try—at least once.”
Nigel licked his lips. “We can kiss you in four different places at the same time.” A slow smile slid across his face. “We have a really
big
bed.”
“I–I’ll think about it.” Geneva barely recognized her own voice as she pulled away from Rhys and stumbled back toward the bar.
“I’ve never been envious of another woman in my life,” Helen said as she relinquished her post. “Until now.” She stopped there, shaking her head. “Oh, my…”
Geneva aimed straight for the Jameson and poured herself a shot. She’d practically been ravished out on the dance floor by four randy musicians. Getting drunk in her own bar was nothing compared with that.
Another cheer went up from the crowd as she downed the whiskey. Unfortunately, it did nothing to improve her situation, only making her belly burn and her skin grow even hotter. Then her thoughts drifted to something that hadn’t been mentioned—four scrotums and eight testicles—and the sudden contraction of her pelvic muscles nearly doubled her over. It wasn’t quite an orgasm, but it came damn close.
I am fuckin’ doomed…
* * * *
Brayden sat down behind his drums feeling very pleased, indeed. In his mind, it was a done deal. Geneva would go home with them and never leave again. He’d make her tea and scones for breakfast—or anything else she fancied—for the rest of his life. He’d fuck her delicious pussy while Nigel pounded his ass. Sean’s dick was always full of juice, and he and Geneva could take turns sucking it while Rhys did her from behind. His own cock was pouring out buckets of pre-cum as it was. It wasn’t unheard of for Brayden to be turned on by a woman, but Geneva…well, she was the top.
Sean looked worried. “Think we pushed her too far?”
Rhys shook his head. “Nope. Just gave her something to think about.” He glanced at the bar. “Look at her. She’s
definitely
thinking.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Brayden punctuated his statement with a quick roll on the snare and a crash on the cymbals. “We’ve got her hooked, mate.
Totally
hooked. She’s over there mixing drinks, trying
not
to think about what it would feel like to be the middle of a fuck sandwich.” Grinning, he added, “Maybe I should go tell her how fabulous it is.”
Rhys chuckled. “You would know.”
Brayden sighed. “Oh, yeah… A cock in every hole and one in each hand—no, wait, she would have a hand free, wouldn’t she?” He chewed thoughtfully on a drumstick. “Maybe we could recruit a keyboard player.”
“Slut puppy,” Rhys mocked. He slung his guitar strap over his shoulder and stepped up to the microphone. “In keeping with the Beatles theme, here’s another one for you, Geneva.” He turned and winked at Brayden. “‘All My Loving
.
’ She’ll like that.”
Brayden rolled his eyes. “You make her sound like she’s fifty years old!”
“Tried and true, m’ boy,” Rhys said smugly. “Tried and true.”
As Rhys launched into the song, Brayden had to admit that the choice was a good one. The lyrics were the perfect declaration of love, and in his opinion, his three roomies sounded even better than the Beatles. Geneva didn’t stand a chance. They just had to finish the set and close down the bar. Then he could suckle her soft tits all night long. He might have to wait in line, but it would be worth it. He’d let the others fuck her, and then he’d eat her cum-soaked pussy until she came in his face. Then he’d add his own sauce to the mix and lick her again. If he didn’t do it exactly the way she wanted, maybe she would spank him. He wiggled his butt in his seat.
Mmm… Absolutely fabulous…
