Playing the Game (7 page)

“Can you see Jay, Alice? He greatly enjoys watching you.”

“I see him.” God, her throat was dry. She swallowed. “I see him.”

Henry’s hands left her and he walked around the table, ruffling Jay’s hair while Jay leaned into the touch. His hands, too, gripped the table’s edge. They didn’t move.

Henry passed out of her sight. Behind her, somewhere. Silent. Should she turn and look for him? What was he doing?

Jay watched her with knowing eyes. A little smirk. The barest shake of his head.

No. Best not to look
, his eyes said.

She gasped when a hand touched her foot. The left one, first. Her sandals slid off, one at a time. Warm hands curved around the arches of her feet and danced up her calves.

“Better without these, I think.” Henry’s voice conveyed calm, thoughtful precision as his hands trailed up the outside of her thighs, beneath her dress.

He pulled her underwear down, down, down to the floor and off, raising each foot once more. Black panties. To match the dress. Date panties, silk with brocade embroidery. Soaking wet, now. Had she hoped this would happen? Hell yes.

Palms stroked between her knees.

Henry spoke, deep and commanding. “Spread your legs for me, Alice.”

She couldn’t disobey. Didn’t want to. She wanted his hands to keep moving. She spread her legs.

He inhaled, loud enough for her to imagine his chest filling out, broad and deep. A soft sound of satisfaction followed. His hands lifted her dress with them as they rose over the backs of her thighs. The summer-weight cotton tickled sensitive skin, whispered against her back in a flowing bunch as he draped it above her ass. Her skin was hot, the air cool. The fabric settled. She shivered.

“Beautiful,” Henry murmured. “Slick and heavy with need. Such an intoxicating blush. You feel it, don’t you, Alice? The blood racing through you? Settling here and throbbing, aching? Waiting?”

“I feel it,” she said, and she wasn’t ashamed.

Jay smiled, his eyes eager. Pleased. Proud.

“You smell her, don’t you, Jay? That thick, sweet musk in the air that slips in through your nostrils and coats your tongue? Makes you hunger for her?” He traced the seam of her lips with a single finger. They parted under his touch, wetness rushing forth as she clenched. “She’s so very wet, Jay. Hot and slippery.”

A pause. Henry exhaled, his breath cool against her heat. “Are you hard for her, Jay?”

Jay’s eyes wouldn’t let hers go. His voice was strained. “Yeah. God, yeah.”

“Good boy.”

Henry never stopped his gentle stroking, back and forth between her lips, a single finger teasing her entrance, running up and over her clitoral hood. If he didn’t do something soon, she would die. Literally die, right on their table.

“Take it out, Jay. Stroke yourself for her.”

Jay’s hands dropped from the table, and her gaze dropped with them.

Her hands flexed. The damn table blocked her view. Was that frustrated growl hers? A hiss and a clink of metal. His belt. The fastener. A rushed whine, the zipper parting. She shuddered. A soft snap of fabric. Underwear. Waistband.
Boxers or briefs, Jay?

“Tell me, Jay. Tell her.”

“Christ. Wet. Leaking like a fucking faucet.”

His arm shifted, a hypnotic, rhythmic, up-and-down motion. She wanted to climb in his lap and move like that. Her muscles knotted. Her toes curved into the rug.

“So goddamn hard, just want–”

“
Slowly
, Jay. Nice and slow.”

Jay’s arm jerked once and then slowed. His mouth hung open a bit as he panted. He seemed fixated on her ass.

She sensed movement behind her, air shifting. Henry’s finger went away. She wanted it back, wanted it now. She shivered at the slow release of a zipper, the slight snap of a condom unrolling.

Henry slipped his hands under the curve of her ass, thumbs stroking along her lips, pulling her open for him. He nudged her with his erection, teasing, the tip dipping inside.

“Like Alice, Jay. She’s a good girl, isn’t she? See how patient she is? Good things come to those who wait.”

He pushed, a long, slow thrust, and her legs quaked as he filled her.

Jesus Christ. She trembled right on the fucking edge, and he hadn’t even pulled back yet. Was it possible to come from one stroke? God knew none of her former lovers had managed it. For themselves, sure, but for her? Not even close.

She watched Jay, his gaze glued to what she couldn’t see, to the place where she and Henry joined.

She whimpered as Henry withdrew, her hips trying to follow, her handhold on the table stopping her.

His hands caressed the outside of her thighs. He didn’t move otherwise, and her whole body grew attuned to the motion of his fingers sweeping up and down her legs. The speed matched Jay’s as he stroked himself.

The sound in her ears wasn’t only Jay’s panting now but hers, too. The air in her lungs whooshed out as Henry thrust deep and slow.

Jay moaned, a frustrated deep whine.

She wiggled her feet, raising her heels and lowering them, fucking herself on Henry’s unmoving cock and watching Jay’s arm slide back and forth.
Oh! That’s nice. So nice.

Jay squeezed his eyes shut. His arm paused. “Fuck. She’s…that’s so…
fuck
, I can’t. Please?”

A heavy hand settled against Alice’s tailbone, right on the top of her ass, and she couldn’t lift her hips anymore, couldn’t force her feet to raise her up.
No, no, please? Let me.

But the hand was inflexible.

“Mmm, yes, our girl is quite creative, isn’t she? So very lovely. Wet and tight and eager.”

Henry greeted her with that same pleasant, composed voice in the hallway. He breathed easy even when the forceful thrusts punctuating his words left her shaking with need.

“You’re eager yourself, aren’t you, Jay?”

“Eager,” he rasped. “Really, really eager.”

Henry’s steady thrusts built a solid pressure between Alice’s legs.

“Stand up, Jay. Show us how eager you are. Alice is quite keen for a look, isn’t that right, Alice?”

Nodding vigorously, she fixed her gaze on the table’s edge.

“Uh-huh. Keen. Good word. So keen.” God, she couldn’t stop herself from babbling.

None of her ex-lovers had stroked off for her. “Fucking is better,” they said. “You wouldn’t like it,” they said. “It’s personal,” they said. But here was Jay, practically dying to do it while Henry kept her wound up with fullness and friction and anticipation.

“So keen,” she gasped.

Henry chuckled.

Jay stood, resting his left hand flat on the table. His right hand gripped his cock at the base, a pale circle against its dark magenta, almost aubergine, flush. Thick and hard, angled up toward his stomach, unmoving above its furred trim. Waiting.

She busied herself staring at his muscled hips and the smooth, slick cock standing between them.

“You’ve been very patient, Jay, and so polite. Perhaps Alice’s example is good for you. Go ahead, my boy. Show her what you’d like to give her. You’ve wanted to for months, haven’t you? Flaunting yourself in front of her, begging her to notice you?”

Henry’s hypnotic voice, as steady as his thrusting, prodded Jay to action. His right hand darted forward, smooth skin sliding with him, not quite to the tip and back again.

His twitches and jerks caused a cascading rhythm in her lungs, an answering hitch in her breath. The slight twist his fingers added brought her tongue to her lips. Her thumbs drummed on the table.

Jay’s near silence exaggerated the harsh weight of his breaths and the constant enticement of Henry’s words. He encouraged. Goaded. Described her in such detail that she shivered and bucked beneath his hands, a willing narcissist soaking in the knowledge that he’d been paying attention long before tonight.

When Jay came, splashing white across the festive orange plate in front of him, a low whine in his throat, she soared with him in spirit if not body.

He slumped in his chair, licking his fingers. His gaze met hers.
Your turn
, he mouthed.

Sweat settled on her back, dryness in her mouth, as if she’d run a marathon while standing still. She flexed against the table, seeking that pressure, the right angle. She’d never been the kind of girl to come from penetration alone, but she’d never had anyone like Henry, either, patient, deliberate, focused.

He moved with confidence, as though she couldn’t possibly do anything but what he expected. The finish line loomed close now, so close she’d die from burst lungs if something didn’t set her off first.

Specks of light danced around Jay’s face. Numbness overtook her fingers. She couldn’t be sure she stood on the floor because she couldn’t feel her toes, only the shaking in her legs and the tightness stretching like a rubber band to every place in her body, hell, through the pores of her skin, even, and she wanted it to let go.

Henry’s pace never changed, but his fingers–yes, God, his fingers, please-please-please–slipped beneath her, feather light, teasing.
Harder, Henry, oh God, I need it, I need it.

He squeezed, hard, around her clitoris, as if in answer to her silent prayer.

The rubber band snapped. Her legs and hips rocked the table with their vibration, and her body arched, back flexing like a bow.

Her hands, though, never moved from the place Henry had laid them so gently.

His thrusts never became the all-too-familiar desperate, frenzied pounding. The moment when she faked it with moans and shuddering and a voice in her head saying,
Jesus, hurry the fuck up so I can send you home and take care of this myself,
and
Are you so fucking dumb you can’t tell the difference? You’ve never felt a woman coming, have you?

Henry thrust with wicked slowness when her rubber band fell slack and left her boneless. Eyes half shut. Breathing harsh. Unsure yet if the pressure of his hips against hers alone held her upright.

His shadow fell across her face as he stretched forward, a pause in his steady motion. His lips touched her for the first time, pressed to her spine between her shoulder blades.

“Magnificent.”

The praise sent a ripple of pleasure through her, an after-tremble as she caught her breath, before an unhappy thought intruded. Satisfied as she was, she hadn’t satisfied him in return.

“But you didn’t–”

“No, not yet, my dear.” Henry’s tolerant tone wrapped a hint of chiding in fond amusement.

She flushed.

“Jay helped me take the edge off before you arrived. It wouldn’t do to have disappointed the guest of honor before she’d had her fill.”

He emphasized the source of her satisfaction with a gentle thrust, his body still curved over hers.

“My dear Alice, it is not any deficiency of yours. We’ll work on these misguided feelings of inadequacy you have, hmm? If you’d care to make this a regular arrangement?”

She smiled at Jay sprawled in his chair and wiggled her hips for the man pressed to her back.

“I’d care, definitely.” Hell yeah. A man who cooked and teased and set dinner aside to fuck her senseless? Times two? She’d be an idiot to say no.

As a bonus, Henry and Jay had each other for the crazy declarations of love shit. This was just fucking. Okay, not just, because Henry was the best fuck she’d ever had, but nothing to get emotional about.

She coughed. “I believe I was promised dinner?”

“An excellent suggestion. Time to discuss and process events would be welcome, I think.” Henry brushed her back with his lips. “Jay, washcloths, if you would.”

Jay stood, lazily, pants open and hanging from his hips. His penis lay against his pubic hair, settling left, the light catching wet streaks as they dried on his skin. He seemed unselfconscious about his nudity. A Jay trait or a male trait in general? They never felt they had any reason to hide themselves. Why should they?

“If my legs’ll hold me,” he joked. “It was good, Henry. I’m still feeling it.” He laughed. “Not as much as Alice is, though. I can almost see her legs vibrating from here. I think she moved the table an inch off-center.”