No Returns (The Blankenships Book 6) (6 page)

He settled down into the chair next to her and managed for the most part not to look like a man drowning as the pastor began to speak.

CHAPTER EIGHT

They sat in the penthouse — Zoey, Alex, and Leo — and studiously worked at getting very, very drunk. Alex and Leo told stories of Claire, when she’d been a baby, when they’d babysat her as teenagers, when Leo had threatened a boyfriend of hers into both an apology to Claire and some variety of public humiliation that they were laughing too hard to really convey. Zoey let them, laughing when they laughed and holding hands when they cried, embracing the spirit of the girl with all of her heart.

When there were no more stories, but they were all far too miserable to sleep — and Leo was far too drunk to drive, or even really safely navigate the stairs — the three of them curled up on the couch and found the worst movies possible to watch, mocking them Mystery Science Theater style. Alex pulled Zoey into his lap, his arms circled around her, and part of her delighted in it. It was the most affectionate he’d really been since the night of the accident. Sure, there’d been sex, but affection and closeness, those had been understandably lacking.

Leo was watching them with what she could only term as envy. Her drunkenness had faded into a mild buzz, and she could see the heat in his eyes. She glanced at her lover, saw the same heat mirrored there, and saw his slight nod, granting her permission to play. It wasn’t anything they’d talked about before, but she had a sudden yearning for something bigger, something bolder than they’d done before. Something to make Alex remember that he was alive. Maybe he wanted that, too.

She stretched out her legs a little, letting her bare toes brush against Leo’s thigh. The men were still in their suit pants, though they’d long lost their coats and ties and unbuttoned their shirts by a few buttons. She’d shed her stockings, but she still wore the black sweater and knee length skirt that she’d worn at the funeral. “And what about you?” She asked Leo, as if she were continuing a conversation they’d been having for days, not one that had only existed in her mind. “Do you have anyone special in your life right now?”

His eyes locked onto the slow motion of her toes for a moment, dragging along the seam of his pants, and then he shook his head without lifting his gaze. “No. I do not.” He seemed to tear his eyes away then and gave Zoey a smile that she could only describe as shy. “Is it too forward of me to say that I am glad?”

“Not if that’s how you feel,” She said. She shifted slightly on Alex’s lap and was rewarded with a soft exhale from him and the feeling of him swelling against her hip.

Leo’s eyes focused over her shoulder on Alex for a moment. “May I tell her the game we used to play in college,
moy drug
.”

Alex barely hesitated before he said, “Yes,” the word a whisper against the suddenly sensitive skin of her neck.

“Game?” Zoey asked.

“Yes,” Leo said, holding himself quite still. “Alex and I used to have a fondness for similar women. And they tended to enjoy the company of both of us. So sometimes, when Alex was feeling particularly vulnerable, she would, for example, demand that I fuck her while he watched, not allowed to touch. Sometimes, he would even be tied down.”

She leaned her head back to look at him. His pupils were dilated, his breathing fast, harsh. “Is that something you want tonight?”

He looked at her, so full of longing that her cunt clenched tight in anticipation.
Oh my goodness, this was going to be such a great deal of fun
. “I know it’s sick, I know I just buried my sister—”

“Hush,” Zoey said, pressing her lips to his. “It’s not sick.”

“Do you want to?” Alex asked, his voice intense. “Don’t do it just for me; I don’t need that. I don’t want that. We’ve all been drinking—”

“I’m sober enough to say yes,” Zoey said. “I promise.” She kissed him again, licking into his mouth until some dam broke within him, something he’d clenched tight for days, and he kissed her back, making desperate, urgent little sounds as he tried to twist his head to a place where he could get the angle he seemed to want.

She let him control the kiss for a moment, just long enough to trust her, and then she ended it slowly. “You,” she said, pushing one finger against his sternum until he leaned into the couch, his hands clenching on the fabric. “Stay here.”

As gracefully as she could manage, she navigated the space between the two men, letting herself fall into Leo’s lap. He watched her with avid, hungry eyes, but his hands stayed respectful. One lay along her upper back, the other on her hip. “Hello,” she said.

“I was not making it up?” He asked. “You were thinking kind things about me earlier?”

“The way the two of you stare at each other,” she said, by way of explanation. “It’s no wonder that a woman would want to be shared by you. You’re both crazy for each other. It must feel like being a lightning rod.”

He stroked one finger down her cheek, playing over the structure of her face. “And you are not afraid of being struck by lightning.”

She glanced over at Alex. His hands were clenched into the couch still, but she had the most interesting idea that he was holding himself in place because of her command, nothing else. “Are you staring at us?” She asked, searching for that tone that teased and reassured him at the same time.

“Yes,” he said, his voice thinned out and wanting.

“Do you wish you could touch us?”

“Yes.” Even more choked off this time.

She shot him a pouty look. “I’m so sorry.  You’re going to have to earn the right.”

She wasn’t sure it would be the right thing to say, but his eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled up ever so slightly, and he shifted on the couch, his erection making an obvious and solid bulge against the thin fabric of his suit pants. She laughed gently, and then turned back to the man whose lap she was sitting in. She reached a hand up to Leo’s face, running her fingers through the curly hair of his beard. It was softer than she expected and made her want to rake her nails over his skin. She didn’t think that Leo would react to it the same way that Alex would. She had a fascinating thought that he would snarl at her, bend her wrist back, bend her over a table… a fascinating thought, and one to pursue another time. But right now, she was in a mood to be controlling, rather than controlled, and both men seemed inclined to let her take the lead.

She leaned forward to brush her lips across Leo’s, just to see how much the beard would bother her. She’d dated a couple of guys in college with unfortunate relationships to chinstrap beards, but she’d never kissed anyone with a full beard. It was odd for a moment, as if there was extra sensation around her mouth, but then his lips moved against hers, and she forgot everything except for the feeling of kissing someone new. She sighed against him, and he seemed to take that as the acceptance that it was, his fingers tightening on her waist and back as she slid her hands up into his hair.

She heard Alex’s soft groan and looked over; his erection had grown even more prominent, and his knuckles were pale with his tight grip. “Don’t mind me,” he said, his voice knotted tightly.

“Oh,” Zoey said, “I don’t.” She reached down for the hand Leo had so politely left on her waist and moved it up until he was cupping her breast. Leo let out a little breath of air against her cheek, and his thumb found her nipple, the rough pad of his finger brushing over the soft knit of her sweater. Alex’s eyes locked on the motion, his mouth falling just a little open as he stared. “You like watching someone else touch your girl?”

He nodded, apparently beyond speech.

“Has it been a very long time since you played this game?”

“About ten years, I think,” he said, his voice cracking part way through the sentence. “Jesus, Zoey—”

“Are you imagining your fingers on my nipple?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, all conversational, even though her pussy was reacting to Leo’s touch, slicking her down and clenching hard. Leo leaned forward, then, his mouth on her neck. Her eyelids fluttered, and she had to focus to keep talking to Alex. “Or are you imagining his on you?”

That provoked a tiny groan from Alex, and she shuddered in Leo’s arms.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said to Leo, losing her breath as his answering “yes” shuddered over her skin. “I want you to watch,” she said to Alex. “I want you to think about how much you want me. I want you to feel it in every muscle and every bone.”

“Yes,” Alex whispered, and there was a sudden release in his eyes, a giving up and giving in. The same expression she saw in his eyes those times she’d tied him up and fucked him, slow and luxurious. Those times when he gave in — not to her, necessarily, but to whatever inside of himself needed to be held back in order to be released — were so sweet that they almost hurt.

Zoey stood, then, feeling the eyes of both men on her. She watched first one, then the other, as she reached behind herself, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor in a little puddle around her feet. Her sweater came off next, pulling it up slowly to expose her belly and breasts a bit at a time before she let the sweater fall to the floor with the skirt. She stood before them in her bright red panties and bra. They were the only decent set she’d had clean that morning. It had felt like some kind of sin, wearing bright red underwear to a funeral, but she’d told herself that no one would know. And now it felt like the most wonderful kind of scandal. She took Leo’s hand first, and then Alex’s almost as if it were an afterthought. She led them both through the penthouse and towards the play room.

It felt like she owned it now, in some strange way, as they threaded through the Narnia of Alex’s closet into the quiet room. The last time they’d been here had felt so dark, so wrong, but now? Now it was hers.

Zoey strode into the center of the room, her heart slamming against her sternum, and then reached out a hand to Leo, who stepped towards her. She walked him behind her, guiding his arms around her body and tipping her head to the side to give him access to her neck. She rolled her hips against him and felt a hot heat in his pants that was all for her.

Alex stood quietly, his hands tucked neatly behind his back, his eyes devouring every movement. She opened her mouth to speak as Leo rolled first one of her nipples, then the other, between his fingers, and her knees went utterly weak. His touch was nothing like Alex. Where Alex was firm and demanding, this big strong man was moving with utter hesitation, quietly asking permission with his skin at every touch. It was utterly delicious.

“Strip,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He did, unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled it loose from his suit pants, then pulling his belt loose from its loops. The hiss of it against the wool pants sent a frisson of joy up her spine. Leo had one hand splayed over her belly, and his fingers nudged ever so gently at the upper edge of her panties. “Yes,” she whispered. To one of them, to both of them, she didn’t quite know.

Alex pushed down his pants and his boxers, and stood before them nude, his erection bobbing before him. Zoey took in a deep breath, appreciating his slim body as Leo’s fingers pressed down through her curls.

There was no preamble with him, not now. His hands were huge, his fingers thick, and he spent just long enough exploring her to make sure she was slick with hunger before he found her clit and began to circle it. How did he know just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp? To make her knees drop out from underneath her? She caught an arm around his neck and let herself hang, let him drag a quick, rough orgasm out of her body as she cried out, drawing it out as best as she could. She watched the mirror of Alex’s face, watched as he reflected ever touch, every single spasm and cry of her body as her body heated with the passion of it.

“Stand in the corner,” she said, making her voice as harsh as she could. “Stand in the corner and watch, and dream of touching me.”

He moved smoothly, putting his back to the corner of the room, his eyes barely blinking, as if he was afraid to miss a single moment of what had been laid out before him.

“Do you want to truly torture him?” Leo asked behind her.

“Yes,” she whispered. His fingers were still moving inside her panties, stroking the whole of her cleft now, a quiet, soothing sensation.

“May I?”

She nodded, and his hand came loose from her panties. She stopped him before he stepped away and locked eyes with Alex as she took Leo’s fingers in her mouth, sucking her juices off his heated fingers. They tasted interesting together — smoky and luscious. Leo groaned softly, murmuring something in Russian that she would have bet any money translated to something like
your fucking tongue
. And then she let him go, watching as he dug through one of the toy bureaus Alex had in the room — she noticed that he went immediately to just the right one — and came back with a set of rings.