Oh, my! There are people in the corner touching each other—people getting jiggy with it! And one or two getting jiggy with themselves as they watch.
So much for tame.
My goodness! That’s a bit of an eyeful!
I spin away, my hand pressed to my lips in the attempt to prevent a building giggle. I haven’t felt so embarrassed since I uncovered my dad’s outdated porn stash as a teen. There is no way I could have sex while people watch. Not without sniggering. I just couldn’t—
JesusfuckingChrist! That looked like Everett, Remy’s head of security!
Like a whirling dervish, I spin in the other direction, moving as fast as my heels allow. If that is him, and he sees me, at least I won’t ever have to explain myself to him because I’d just die of embarrassment.
But it can’t have been him. It’s just my brain playing tricks on me, frightening myself that I’ll somehow be outed for being a deviant when I’m really just very, very normal.
Just like I thought Beth was.
I drain the rest of my glass, my eyes unseeing as my brain scrambles to unpick my mess of thoughts. Unseeing, not for long, at the sounds of a feminine laugh, I take in the almost tableau in front of me. I’m on the threshold of a corner room, two walls almost entirely glass. It seems like a dining room of sorts; a round wooden table with four chairs, two of them already occupied by men. Dinner jackets discarded, shirts open at the neck, the pair seem to be playing cards when a brunette steps between the pair, serving them drinks in lowball crystal glasses.
Oh. Not serving them but helping herself to the contents.
And oh, my, she is beautiful. The men are handsome too, and the trio either unaware of my presence, or else they don’t care. And while I’ve no idea what keeps me in this spot, I continue to stand there as my heart pounds so hard it echoes elsewhere.
As the woman bends to place the second glass down, the man runs his hand up the back of her leg. My breath catches along with hers, her hand tightening on his shoulder and creasing the snowy white fabric of his shirt. They kiss. He touches. A stroke, a caress. Her black dress riding higher and higher as he trails his hands up her legs.
She laughs softly, licks her lips, then whispers something meant for only his ears. I know I should move. Move away. Not intrude. But as both men stand, I find I’m rooted to the spot, breathless with anticipation. My heart thunders and my core aches, and I wish that Carson was here right now. Because I wouldn’t be watching, I’d be giving. Giving myself over to him. Giving myself over to the thrill, just like the woman in front of me.
One kisses her mouth and the other the nape of her neck, two pairs of hands roaming everywhere. She sighs. She whispers. Arches between them, her body pliant, her knees growing weak. Or maybe those are my knees threatening to buckle as I reach out a shaking hand, steadying myself against the wall.
Four hands lift her dress from the hem, the brush of the fabric a caress I can almost feel. The sound of it dropping to the floor echoes deeply inside me.
An arm wraps her waist, fingers slipping down her stomach and into her underwear. From the front, lips and fingers tease her breasts until she begins to moan and writhe, the press of two hard bodies the only things keeping her upright.
But not for long.
“Yes!” Her eyes are dark, and her excitement is palpable, her cry ringing through the room as she’s spun from one to the other for a passionate kiss before she’s pressed down to the table between them.
Her body convulses, her hands reaching out, her whispers of encouragement too far away to hear. Belts clink, a whoosh of leather sounds as they’re pulled from the loops. But I’m not watching them. I’m watching her, fingers grasping, and her body wracked by shallow, excited breaths as she’s kissed and licked, as her breasts spill from their lacy cups as the other manhandles and mauls her underwear. Four hands make the scene all the more torrid, all the more exciting as I stand, stock-still, blood rushing through my veins with a mixture of excitement and shame.
Pants are opened, cocks freed, her mouth not the only part of her greedy to be filled, her thighs opening in invitation.
She begs.
She cries out.
I suck in a sharp breath feeling like I’ve gone too long without. Too long without a breath. Too long without sex as I stand here, imagining myself in this scene. Picturing Carson staring down at me with such possession from his position between my spread knees.