All The Best Men
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” was my raspy grunt. “If you’re into it, then we’re into it.”
And fuck, but the feel of those velvety lips on my pole was enough to shoot me to the moon and back. Because Katie’s the answer to our dreams, a mass of contradictions, intriguing and innocent, yet devilishly wild. But will we ever get enough? Right now, this is just a weekend fling … but what about owning this female long-term?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Katie
Squirming in my office chair, I couldn’t believe what had happened at Wayland Manor. Not only had I lost my virginity, but now Mason, Kane and Tyler had also popped my anal cherry. It was so wrong, and yet the dumb smile wouldn’t leave my face.
Because I let three alpha billionaires own my back hole on a nineteenth century bed at a tourist attraction. We went at it like wild animals, screaming and crying, uncaring of who was outside. It’s a miracle they didn’t call the cops from all the heavy pounding and breathless gasps.
But it’s weird because I feel no guilt over what happened. I should, I know. We defiled a historic place, treating the antique furniture like it was Ikea. But that aside, I feel really good. Floating on a cloud even, like I can’t get enough. Because this is more than some hot sex, and then sayonara. Mason, Tyler and Kane surprised me by asking me questions about myself during the trip, really curious about my life. The billionaires wanted to know what makes me tick, what makes me glow, and most of all, what makes me scream with pleasure.
Suddenly, a voice cut into my daydream.
“Where were you earlier today Katie? You seem a bit flushed,” Sally asked with concern written all over her face. Sally’s a dinosaur at the magazine, one of those people who’ll never be fired because she’s a fixture around the place. But at the same time, I liked her. I liked the hopelessly old-fashioned pearls in a place that was supposed to represent the cutting edge of fashion. I liked her slightly messy hair, if only because my own curls was always a little mussed too.
“I’m fine, just a little warm,” was my blushing reply. I tried to look normal, but it was impossible. “I’m fine,” I said, ducking my head again, even fanning my cheeks a little. “Thanks.”
Sally clucked like a matronly hen.
“You look a little peaked,” she said kindly. “Here, take my water,” she said, placing a plastic cup of ice cold liquid before me. “Just in case you’re getting sick.”
And gratefully, I drank as Sally moved off down the hall. Get with it! warned the voice in my head. You can’t be acting weird at the office. This is work, where they pay you to be productive.
Of course they do, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop my train of thought. Because what would the ladies’ faces look like if I told them I’d just had butt sex with three hot alphas? That I’d let three men spurt their cream into me, one right after another, filling me up all the way?
They probably wouldn’t believe it, that’s what.
Quiet, capable Katie, having anal sex?
With three men?
Yeah, right.
But it was true. And wiggling my ass slightly, I wondered if their sperm was leaking out of my back end right now. There was so much of it after all. Maybe a bathroom break was necessary to make sure it didn’t seep through my panties and leave a tell-tale wet spot on my skirt.
“Heading to the bathroom Laney, I’ll be back,” I called out to my co-worker in the next cube. For some reason, the need to talk out loud was overwhelming, but Laney didn’t even look in my direction, head buried in something or other.
“Okay,” was her mumbled reply.
Getting up awkwardly, I headed for the restroom. Oof, my anus ached a bit, my gait a little unsteady. But before even getting half the way there, my snotty co-worker Mary, a senior editor, accosted me. Stumbling, I almost ran into her before coming to an abrupt halt.
Because I’ve never liked Mary, and she’s never liked me. The woman is a blonde trust fund baby who looks like a Barbie doll on steroids, with boobs out to there, all plastic. Most times, she didn’t pay attention to me, I was below her level. But there were times when those viper eyes turned my way, and I shivered at the memory.
“Hi,” I said tentatively, unsure how to handle the interaction. “How are you?”
An uneasy feeling knotted my gut. What did the woman want?
Mary glared at me suspiciously, blue eyes like hard cubes of ice.
“Well aren’t you chipper today. Did Jake, your long-distance boyfriend finally come back into town?”
The woman batted fake lashes and put on a Joker-like smile that showed perfect white teeth. So that’s what this was about. She knew Jake was a lie and had decided to call me out on it. Why? Why now of all times? What good was that going to do?