Victoria’s Secret Wish(25)

“Why would you want to share her?” David blurted. “That seems fucked up.”

Britt pressed against her back and they walked toward the sofa. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?” He sat down and she took a spot next to him.

David settled on the coffee table, facing them. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped between.

“I don’t look at it as sharing Vic,” Britt answered. “I see it as giving her something extra to enjoy.”

Staring for a long time, David finally nodded. “Okay. So. How often do you…” He took a deep breath. “Do this?”

“Never.” She leaned forward and took one of his hands in both of hers. “Ever. What about you? Do you have a significant other at home? Anybody who’d be hurt?”

He shook his head, squeezing her hand with his warm fingers. “It’s pretty hard to have a relationship when you travel for a sport. I run into a lot of female athletes who are only serious about one thing–their sport. They’re really in tune with their bodies, so the sex is good.” His words were coming faster, and so were his breaths. “But that’s it. Oh, and for the record, I’ve always used a condom.” He took a deep breath, his hand shaking a little in hers.

“As you know, Britt stocked up on condoms.” She let go of David with one hand and slid it along Britt’s inner leg. “I’m on The Pill, but to be sure and prevent pregnancy, you’ll have to wear a condom at all times during penetration.” Man, good thing she’d had all these sorts of talks with clients before. Because it was still hard to do, even with practice.

David nodded, and Britt grunted his agreement.

“Um. I think that’s it. Unless we need some ground rules?” Silence. “Like, maybe, no kissing?” Kissing made things so much more personal–she’d learned that from her work on the Mountain. Why couldn’t she breathe?

No input from the guys.

Britt cleared his throat. “No, Vic. I see what you’re about, but I think no kissing would take much of the sport out of it.” His hand covered hers. “Unless…you don’t want to kiss David?”

“I do!” She’d blurted it out before thinking. But yes, she did want to kiss David. Very much, and everywhere.

“Then I think we’ve covered everything, so let’s get after it.” Britt placed her hand back on David’s.

She leaned forward, and David toward her. Her lips met his–firm, smooth, for a brief moment. His breath brushed over her, minty-fresh. He’d been waiting. Ready. Well, he wasn’t getting away with that sort of kiss.

She pulled her hands away from his, held his face on either side. Stubble grazed the heels of her hands, while her fingers brushed his hair. She slid to the edge of the couch, moved into him, this kiss long, deep, showing him her hunger. His grasp mirrored hers, clasping her head, and he angled in deeper, his tongue coming out for a taste. Sweet, minty, hot, it explored her mouth until she captured it and suckled. He groaned and held her tighter, rocking forward until he slid off the coffee table to the floor between them. On his knees, he pulled his mouth away from hers, kissed down her neck. With the beard, he felt so different from Britt, yet so good.

Britt…Beside her, he breathed heavily. She arched, David’s breath on her neck tickling and making her shiver, her hands now mussing his hair as he moved down over her right shoulder, the inside of her elbow…he pulled her hands from his head and kissed down her arm to her hand, where he tongued the palm, sucked skin between thumb and fingers. Wow, for a younger guy, he did a good job with foreplay.

He smiled up at her, while he eased a hand down the back of her right calf, to the heel. His attention focused on her foot as he slipped the shoe off, brushed his fingers along the top, arch, ankle. The other foot got the same treatment, then he slid his hands back up her calves, to her knees, and above. The dress rode up when she sat, to mid-thigh. His fingers grazed up and down her legs several times, playing her like a harp. The mere touch of those fingers sent jolts running straight to her core, and like he’d turned on the tap, her juices ran.

Next his lips and tongue–soft, hot, wet–ran the length of her leg, from knee to ankle, from ankle to dress, tantalizing, making her want to shimmy so the dress rode higher, making her want to moan, making her want. His kisses crept higher, but by painfully slow increments. It took all her control to not grab his head again and pull it into her, so he could see what he did to her, smell her, taste her.

This was probably a one-night, once-in-a-lifetime thing. She’d enjoy every second of it. No matter how long he took to get her there.