Simply Sinful (19 page)

“Good Lord, Abby.” James gripped Peter’s shoulder hard, his expression startled. “Who would’ve thought you had breasts like that?”

She scowled at them. “I feel like a trussed-up chicken.”

“Well you certainly don’t look like one.” James got to his feet and circled his wife, his expression predatory. Peter followed. Below the corset, Abigail was naked until the garters of her stocking. Peter’s cock rose as he studied her small buttocks. He paused in front of James, reached back and palmed his lover’s erection.

James let out a sudden breath. “You look beautiful, Abby cat.”

“I look ridiculous, but from the besotted looks on both of your faces, I assume you both approve?”

“Of course they do.” Madame nodded at Peter. “I need to fetch another gown. I will return in about ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Madame.”

Abigail let out an exasperated sigh that almost dislodged her breasts from their precarious position.

“Why will it take her that long to find a dress? I’m cold! Is she still finishing it?”

Peter glanced at James, who took up a position at Abigail’s rear. “She isn’t sewing the dress. She just realized we needed some time to ourselves.”

“We do?”

Peter bent his head and licked her nipple. “Aye, we do. James, put your arms around her waist.” He waited until James obliged, drawing Abigail tight against his body. She sighed and leaned her head back against his chest. Peter began to suckle her breasts, pausing occasionally to make sure James could see every deliberate flick of his tongue. Her hips moved against his, cradling his growing erection.

He slid one hand down over her stomach until it covered her mound.

“Can you feel how excited we are, Abigail? Can you feel James’s cock rubbing against your buttocks?” She moaned as Peter circled her swollen clit with one finger. “Just imagine how it will feel when we are all naked and moving against each other. Both of our wet cocks slipping and sliding over your flesh, coming inside you, making you desperate to climax as many times as you can.”

James nuzzled her earlobe and snatched a quick kiss from Peter. “Abby cat, I can hardly wait to see you with Peter. In truth, I can’t wait to see you with me. I hope I can please you this time. I know I want to.”

Peter smiled at James as they both stepped away from Abby. Her skin was flushed a delicate pink, her eyes full of passion. She frowned.

“Are you going to stop now? Just after you’re succeeded in arousing me?”

“Yes.”

Peter and James returned to their seat on the couch. Peter grinned up at Abigail.

“That’s not fair!”

James snorted. “You want us to take you in the middle of Madame Wallace’s salon? She’d probably throw a bucket of water over us.”

She looked thoughtful. “She probably would.” She eyed Peter’s erection. “What about that?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’ll manage.”

“And what about you, James?”

“I’ll manage too, dear.”

Her eyes narrowed but before she could speak, Madame appeared with yet another gown over her shoulder.

“Have you finished?”

Peter stood up and bowed. “Indeed we have, Madame. Do you have any gowns that Lady Beecham could take with her today?”

“I have several for her to try on.” She directed her frowning gaze at Abigail and pointed at a curtained-off area of the fitting room behind them. “If you will come with me, we’ll make a start.”

Abigail sighed and followed Madame. Before she disappeared behind the curtain she gave James a hard stare.

“You will still be here?”

“Of course, my dear.” James tried to look innocent. “Peter and I are quite capable of amusing ourselves for a few minutes while you change.”

“I should imagine you are,” Abigail muttered before Madame whisked her behind the red curtain.

James smiled at Peter and lowered his voice. “Do you think we can amuse each other? I have a wager for you, if you’re interested.”

Peter traced the length of James’s cock through his tight breeches. “I’m interested.”

“I’ll wager I can make you come in your breeches faster than you can make me come and before Abigail emerges to show us her new gown.”

“You’re on.”

Peter unbuttoned the side flap of James’s breeches and shoved his hand inside. He didn’t bother to pull the shirt away from James’s cock, he just set to work, jerking James’s shaft through his tightly closed fist. He shuddered as he felt James close his hand around his cock, his grip even tighter, thumb circling the crown of Peter’s cock.

After the excesses of the previous night, they were both a little tender. Peter increased the speed of his pumping hand as Madame raised her voice and Abigail answered her.

“Christ…”

Peter fought a groan; his cock was aching for release, primed to come at any second. James squeezed tighter. The curtain twitched and Peter’s vision deteriorated all his attention on his desperate desire to come into James’s big fist. His stifled groan was met by one from James as they both climaxed, soaking their shirts and each other’s fingers with hot, wet come.

“I think that was a draw,” Peter croaked.

With a sharp rattle, Madame opened the curtain just as Peter managed to withdraw his hand and slide it into his pocket. James was a little slower, his fingers tangling with Peter’s wet shirt and sensitive cock. Peter’s breath hissed out as James finally struggled free.

“Well, what do you think?”

Peter opened his eyes to find Abigail in front of him. She wore a gown of deep green floating muslin, which emphasized the creaminess of her skin and the gray of her eyes. Silver embroidery graced the low bodice and hem of the exquisite dress. James sighed.

“You look wonderful, Abby, just like one of those fashion plates.”

Peter nodded, aware of the anxiety behind her eyes.

“Beautiful.”

“Good,” said Madame. “She may have this ball gown and one other day dress. I’ll send the rest of the gowns over as soon as I’ve bullied my seamstresses into making them.”

“Don’t bully them on my account,” Abigail said. “I’d rather you didn’t make them work like slaves just for a few frivolous gowns.”

James cleared his throat. “Abby, perhaps you could try on the rest of the gowns before I waste away from lack of sustenance?”

She shook her head. “James, you are so selfish.”

She turned on her heel and headed back for the curtained area, Madame at her heels. Another argument started up. James grinned at Peter and slowly licked his fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the seamstresses are recompensed for their time.”

“Madame will enjoy plundering your purse. She is expensive but well worth it.”

James looked serious. “I can see that. Abby looked like a different woman altogether. I really am looking forward to seeing her in my bed.”

“With me?”

“Of course. How could I not? Two of my favorite people ready and eager to do my bidding.”

Peter cupped James’s groin and squeezed hard. “We’ll see who is doing whose bidding. Now how about another game? First one to make the other erect before Abigail emerges in her next gown?”

James was already reaching for his breeches before Peter finished speaking.

14

“T
hank you, James.”

Abby glanced up as James placed her new fur-lined cloak around her shoulders. He winked at her and drew her close, protecting her from the large colorful crowd on the steps outside. In the flickering lamplight, extravagantly dressed members of the
ton
jostled with hawkers and beggars. Shouts rang out for footmen, flower sellers and coachmen as people tried to find their way out of the melee. Peter had already walked ahead of them to summon their carriage.

“Did you enjoy the evening?”

Abby let out a blissful sigh. “It was wonderful. I’ve always wanted to see and hear one of Mozart’s operas.” She covered his hand with her own. “And our supper was delightful too, although how we were supposed to eat with all those interruptions is beyond me.”

Peter waved at them and they joined him at the curb. Abby shivered as a slight wind ruffled her newly cut hair. Peter and Madame Wallace had persuaded her to try one of the daring short styles to show off her long neck and apparently graceful features. She still felt exposed and a little awkward. Privately James had also agreed, insisting it made her look more like a man and that suited him just fine.

James handed her into the carriage and followed her in. Peter joined them while James was still laughing at her.

“Abby wants to know how on earth she was supposed to eat her dinner when all those people wanted to meet her.”

“I’m not sure why you think it is amusing, James,” Abby retorted. “I was hungry!”

“All those people were eager to meet you because you are beautiful.” Peter nodded at James. “Your wife has taken the
ton
by storm.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Peter. Those people stopped by to talk to you or James, not me.”

Peter’s smile was slow. “Believe me, James and I aren’t generally so popular. Speaking to us was simply a way to engineer an introduction to you.”

Abby hunched a shoulder at him and turned to look out of the window. A knot of anxiety gathered in her stomach. Surely he was wrong. Why would anyone be interested in her? She shivered and drew the cloak more tightly around herself. Perhaps the gossips were simply desperate to take a good look at the woman James had abandoned in the country for so many years that most people believed she was a myth.

“I don’t wish to become a figure of fun.”

James chuckled. “Why should you? You are my wife and you bear an ancient name. Why would anyone bother to ridicule you?”

“Because you’ve never allowed me to come to London before and I am considered something of an oddity?”

James’s smile died. “That’s not fair. You made that choice. I asked you to come with me many times.”

Abby subsided into her corner again. James was correct. Eventually he’d given up asking her and she’d never broached the subject with him again. It had been easier to hide away and blame James for her lack of courage. She bit down on her lip.

“Abigail, if you are tired, we don’t have to join you tonight.”

She closed her eyes against the gentle understanding in Peter’s voice, struggled to summon the necessary spark of anger.

“You no longer wish to share my bed?”

Peter shifted forward in his seat. “That’s not what I said.”

“It is what you meant, though, isn’t it? Having James all to yourself has obviously made you regret your decision to include me in your bed sport.”

James grabbed her shoulder and gently shook her. “Abby cat, stop it. Peter is right. If you are too afraid to share our bed, then just say it, don’t try to create an argument out of nothing.”

The carriage stopped and she wrenched away from his touch. She flung open the door, stumbled down to the pavement and twisted her ankle in the gutter. Ignoring Peter’s quiet entreaty to wait, she kept going, her gaze fixed on the open front door, the staircase and finally the sanctuary of her bedroom.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

Abby clutched at her cloak, startled by the appearance of her maid sewing in the shadows by the fire.

“I’m fine, Marie. Just a little tired. Help me take off this gown and then you can go. I’ll bathe in the morning.”

Abby swallowed hard. Her throat ached with all the tears she refused to shed until she was quite alone. Thankfully, Marie didn’t fuss around her. Soon she was efficiently divested of her garments and tucked up in bed. Her breathing evened out and she tried to listen for sounds of movement from James’s suite. Would they come after her or leave her to her fears?

She blinked away a few hot tears. She’d let her own trepidation rule her again, just as she had when Peter first touched her. She pleated the cool linen sheet in her fingers. Was she really such a coward? Peter and James insisted they wanted her. Did she have the courage to get out of her bed and find out?

“That went well.” James grimaced as Peter leaned forward to light his cigarillo. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

They sat together in front of the fireplace in James’s suite, a bottle of brandy and three glasses on a silver tray between them.

“I don’t think you did anything wrong. She simply got scared,” Peter said.

“Of us?”

“Obviously.”

Peter poured himself a large glass of brandy and swallowed it in one gulp. He refilled both their glasses.

“I’m hoping she will be brave enough to come and find us. She’ll probably try to pretend nothing happened, and for once you might consider not teasing her and allow her to keep her pride.”

“I don’t tease her.”

Peter fixed James with his most intimidating stare. “Yes, you do. I’m surprised she hasn’t planted you a facer yet.”

James stripped off his black coat and threw it over the back of his chair. “I told you we were more like siblings, didn’t I?”

“But not tonight.”

James gripped the back of his chair, his expression serious. “No, not tonight.” His fingers caressed the satin brocade. “I hope she comes back. For the first time, I can see her as a woman as well as my friend.” He smiled at Peter. “Thank you for giving me that.”

Peter shrugged. “If I said the pleasure was entirely mine, would you call me out?”

James’s answering smile was slightly crooked. “Only if you both decided I had become irrelevant.”

“Now you sound like Abigail. This arrangement was meant to bring you together, not make matters worse. Rest assured, you are still relevant to me and I’m sure it will be the same for Abigail. She wants a child. She wants
your
child.”

“And I still want to do this for her.”

“And so do I.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Peter crossed the small space between them and kissed James lightly on the lips. “I want you to enjoy us both. I know it is difficult for you to be with a woman, but I also know you can perform perfectly adequately if you wish.”

James bit down on Peter’s lower lip. “You’ve been listening to gossip again, haven’t you.”