Nothing More Beautiful (46 page)

“Everything is running smoothly, Mr. Forte,”
Avery Havill reported, strolling into the kitchen. “I’ll be
downstairs if you need me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Havill,” Vince said.
“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sir.” The big burly black man
headed for the elevator. Vince’s new bodyguard stood worlds apart
from Terrance, his disposition and humor as antithetical to his
predecessor as possible. Soft-spoken, with a kind, approachable
look, Avery even had the reverse hairstyle, with five o’clock
stubble and short tight curls on his head. So far, in the twenty
minutes that I had known him, he had shown me more civility and
warmth than Terrance ever had.

“Mr. Havill?” I said after the bodyguard had
departed. “Why the cold formality? That’s not like you.”

“I thought it would be better to keep some
distance between us. I let Terrance become my friend. I can’t do
that again.”

“Hello?” I heard a voice shout around the
corner before I could reply. We had left the door propped open to
the elevator so she could enter without knocking. Cameras had been
installed, and security monitored who pressed the penthouse button,
keeping an eye out for the elusive Luke.

I poked my head around the corner. “In here,
Emma.”

She hurried into the kitchen. A deep V-neck
dress clung to her body, the sheath ruched bodice twisting in the
front and open in the back, ending in a short, fitted miniskirt.
The red of the fabric made her blond hair and fair skin pop. “This
place is amazing,” she gasped.

Next to her in my light sundress, I felt a
little less sexy, as I half-expected her to show up in running
gear. Boy, was I wrong. “It takes a while to get used to,” I
admitted, pulling her in for a hug. Vince took his turn, his
embrace quick and uncomfortable. “The view, the luxury, the
space—it’s all a lot to take in.”

“I love it,” she said, setting her purse
down on the island. “Thank you so much for having me
over . . . and you made lasagna!” Her eyes lit
up. “I love lasagna.”

“It’s a secret chef recipe that I learned
from a cook while in school,” I said. “I’ve never had one
better.”

“Sounds delectable.”

“It tastes even better than it sounds,”
Vince added. “How about a tour?”

She couldn’t pass on the opportunity. Back
in the kitchen after the tour, with the lasagna now cool, Vince
waved toward the table. He took the head of the table while Emma
and I sat across from each other. “Wine, beer, champagne? Or
perhaps something a little harder?”

“Any red wine will be fine,” she answered. I
had already poured a glass of smoky Scottish-style ale. Tipsy, my
tongue prepared to loosen, gearing up for the big question later
on. Vince poured her a glass of red wine from his selection stored
in the utility room. “I know nothing about wine, so sorry if it’s
poor.” He had a glass of exorbitant whiskey, neat, which he only
drank when battling severe nerves.

Emma took a sip and smiled. “It’s good. Most
red wine tastes the same to me, so it doesn’t matter.”

“So tell me about yourself, Emma?” Vince
asked. “I only know that you like to work out as much as Maci, if
not more.” That began a series of get-to-know-you questions, which
lasted through the meal, as we shared little things about us with
her. By the end of the meal, knots had formed in my
stomach—twisting and twisting—yet curiosity motivated me more,
mixed with the temptation of something foreign and forbidden.

We moved to the library, off from the dining
area. Emma sat next to me on a loveseat, with Vince across from us
in an armchair. “So we had an ulterior motive for asking you here
tonight,” I said, glancing at Vince for his encouragement. He gave
it with a slight nod. “We wanted—”

“To ask if I’d sleep with you,” she cut in,
grinning.

“Uh—was it that obvious?”

“Yes and no,” she answered. “This isn’t the
first time a couple has propositioned me for a threesome.”

“It isn’t?”

She ignored the evident surprise in my
voice. “No . . . But this is the first time I’m
saying yes.” Her eyes flicked at Vince, her grin growing seductive
with those full lips. “Tonight?”

My heart leapt at her acceptance.

“Um,” Vince nearly choked. “We were thinking
Friday, to give you some time to think about it.”

“I’m already feeling it,” she said in a
heady voice that flared the fire in my blood. “We don’t have to
wait.” She slid her hand from the couch to my thigh. Her touch
surprised and exhilarated me: a strange, warm tingle crawled up my
spine. “We can do it tonight, if you want.”

I stared at her, frozen. This was the moment
to let go of inhibition, to fall into the sexual act and explore a
new realm, but my heart grew aware of the reality—what it meant to
go through with the act. I’d be sharing the man I loved with
another woman. But the question that tortured me still burned
inside: was his heart only for me?

I had to trust that it was.

If I didn’t trust that it was, then our
relationship stood on the weakest pillar—one that could crumble at
any time, tonight or years from now. If I didn’t trust that it was,
then one night of carnal satisfaction meant nothing, and our
relationship was doomed regardless of any fantasy indulgence.
Without trust, we had nothing.

My heart was only for him, and I decided
right then that his was only for me. This was about sex and trying
something outside our normal comfort zone. Leaning into Emma as her
lips parted, wet and luscious, I kissed her receptive mouth. The
first kiss was light, barely a peck. I opened my mouth more for the
second.

My lust bloomed into a wild passion, and we
pulled each other closer, our hands roaming. I felt her soft
breasts, cupping each, exploring their perkiness. My fingers dove
into her cleavage, her skin electrifying my senses. My dress
covered more, so her hand only grazed the top of my breasts. Still
the idea of her—a woman—touching the skin reserved only for men,
sent a jolt of pure arousal to my pussy. I pulled back, opening my
eyes, inhaling deeply, my heart running hard with desire.

Vince was staring at us with rapt attention.
His cock bulged in his pants. I waved him over. “Your turn,” I
said. Emma moved the pillows on the other side of her to make room
for him. He sat down and it seemed that the alcohol had consumed
all of his nervousness.

Emma turned her attention to him, making the
first move, rubbing his hard-on. “That’s more than I’ve ever had,”
she purred.

Vince returned her gesture by fondling her
breasts, sliding under her braless cup, rubbing her nipple between
his fingers like he did mine. The sight turned me on, and I crossed
over his arm, slipping under her other cup. Her nipple hardened
between my fingers. She gasped from the delicate assault.

Removing my hand from her breast, I slid
down her arm to her hand stroking Vince’s pent-up cock. I ran a
finger around her wrist as she worked.

“Maybe we should take this into the
bedroom,” Vince said in a deep, confident voice.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“I’ll bring more wine,” he added, as we got
to our feet. He uncorked a bottle of white and brought the rest of
the red with him.

“I’m going to slip into something more
accessible,” I said once we reached the bedroom. I ducked into the
walk-in closet and found a set of lingerie I had hidden. The black
satin cupless bra top featured a big bow in the middle, two small
ribbons connecting under my breast, with two bigger ribbons
covering my nipples. The lacy thong featured a bow in the back and
a window in the pussy. I was saving the outfit for a special
occasion, and I couldn’t think of a better time. It afforded me the
confidence to be openly sexual without displaying everything all at
once. I covered myself in a black silk robe to conceal the
show.

When I came out into the bedroom, Emma was
signing a piece of paper. “It’s an NDA,” Vince said when I asked
him. “For legal purposes.”

“I fully understand,” Emma said, setting
down the pen. “I’ve read enough romance novels to know the
reasons.” She picked up her glass of wine and knocked back all that
remained. The glass rang as she planted it on the nightstand. “Now,
where were we?”

Vince tucked the NDA into his blazer pocket.
“In the middle of some very hot fondling, I believe.” His cock was
still hard, fighting his pants for air. She reached over and
stroked it over his slacks.

“What are you hiding under that robe, Maci?”
she said in a honey-sweet voice.

“How about we find out,” Vince added, waving
me over.

I strode over, revealing most of my legs.
Standing before them like a runway model, I let the robe drop to
the floor, and I could see the hunger in both of their eyes. I
twirled, showing off my ass and the pretty bow. “Damn, that’s a
finer ass than even that girl on the treadmill we saw today.” Her
compliment heated up my blood again. “May I?” She put out her hand
for my skin.

“Of course,” I spoke softly. Her warm hands
grazed my ass, then squeezed it in a firm grip. A hard slap came a
second later, and I gasped, surprised by her bold act.

“Did you like that?” she asked, biting her
lip.

I nodded. “Yes.”

She did it again. “How about that?”

“Yes.” I turned around to face them. “Now
it’s my turn.” She didn’t hesitate as she spun, leaned over the
bed, and stuck out her ass. Her nightclub dress was practically
lingerie, accentuating her small curves with tantalizing effect. It
made her body accessible, while bolstering her breasts to create
maximum cleavage. She knew what she was doing when she chose it for
the night, that much was clear.

Vince quietly folded up her short skirt,
squeezing both cheeks when they greeted our eyes. He stepped back
and gave me room. I ran my hands down her back to her hips,
brushing the sides of her legs, then up the curves of her ass. Her
smooth skin in my hands felt wonderful, different and familiar at
the same time. I raked her skin from her ass down to her heels,
kissing her flawless skin as I did.

I noticed that Vince struggled to watch any
more of the tantalizing view, his cock aching in his pants. To draw
out the suspense, I raked her again and again, and each time Emma
released a soft groan of pleasure. “I think it’s time to release
that cock,” I said, pulling my lips away from her ass as I stared
at Vince, his eyes smoldering with seduction.

“I agree,” Emma said, dropping to her knees
beside me. I stood up and removed his jacket, throwing it into the
corner on the far side, then his shirt, revealing his beautifully
carved body. Her hands quickly went to his belt buckle, whisking
the leather out of the loops with the slick, rough sound leather
made, slapping the last few loops in noisy pops. Her proficient
fingers undid the inner button, and then unhooked the metal clasp,
tugging down his pants.

A thin layer of cotton now lay between his
cock and our mouths. This was it—once those boxer-briefs dropped,
there was no turning back. Instead of letting jealousy stand in my
way, I focused on the urges in the moment, and let them fuel me,
dropping to my knees. I looked at Emma. “Ready?” She nodded, and
together we pulled down the last obstacle, freeing Vince’s thick
cock.

I gazed at her as she took in the view.
Cleanly shaven for the most part, Vince’s erection pulsed, the
veins bulging, his skin yearning for our touch. One of Vince’s main
fantasies involved two tongues playing with his cock. That fantasy
was about to come true.

With my right hand, I slid my palm up the
back of his leg, gripping his ass. With my left hand, I held the
base of his cock and pointed it at Emma’s salivating mouth. She
opened wide as I pushed him forward. His head found her lips,
burying deep into her throat. His breath hitched in response. She
bobbed her head back and forth while Vince stared down at us, his
eyes half-closed and rolling back. “Play with my balls,” he
instructed me, gasping and moaning.

My fingers inched down to his dangling balls
and I began fondling them together. I watched as they twitched up
and down in reaction to the strokes. Emma began hitting my hand
with her mouth, getting into the action, losing herself in the blow
job. Vince looked like he was dying of pleasure, his knees bent and
barely able to hold him up.

“You like her sucking on your cock while I
stroke your balls?” I asked, my voice husky and horny.

“I love it,” he said, his words barely
coherent. His fingers weaved through our hair, each hand gripping
us tight for balance. The slight pressure felt good.

“I’m going to make you come now, okay?” I
said, not really asking. I spread his legs wider so that I could
get between them. I tilted my head back and probed his balls with
my tongue, and he roared in response, his legs shaking. His hips
were rocking back, instinctively penetrating Emma’s mouth. As his
body tensed, his growl quieted into a restrained squeak: the
signals that he was about to come. I sped up with my tongue.

A second later, I saw Emma’s head jerk back
as Vince screamed in orgasm. She maintained her motion, never
letting up until Vince slowed her with his hand. She eased off his
cock, her mouth open, full of sticky white come. A strange, dark
desire drove me forward, and I kissed her hard, our tongues
swirling in Vince’s semen. The kiss was so incredibly hot, I felt
like I was gushing between my legs. We both swallowed what we had
in our mouths, our breathing rapid, sweating from the intoxicating
effort.

We gave Vince time to descend from his
sexual high, and Emma brushed aside the straps that crossed over
her breasts, releasing them. I pushed her breasts together like
Vince did mine and sucked on each nipple, my pulse zipping with
bliss.

Emma pushed me back. “My turn,” she said,
stroking the skin exposed from the ribbon bra. With her tongue, she
lifted the satin, her tongue twirling around my nipple. A shudder
screamed through my body.