Shit. Too bad he couldn’t make out what the two lovebirds in the stable were saying. Body language said plenty, though. Especially when they broke it up, and both of them had wood. Fuck. Now he did, too.
Well. Didn’t this open up a whole new world of opportunity?
Were both of those passengers he brought up tonight fucktoys for Victoria and her dink husband? Hey, if she suddenly had an open marriage, he’d be at the front of the line to go in.
And on another note…how far would Grant be willing to go, to keep his homo affair on the downlow? Did his wife know about it, or was he keeping dirty secrets from her?
What was Swimboy saying? Something about taking care of Vic? And Grant…some threat about hurting her, and ripping the kid’s balls off.
He watched them saunter off toward the main building like a couple of football pals.
Shit. Were there two men between him and Victoria now? Or three? Might complicate his plans, but it would only slow his progress. Nothing would stop him.
* * * *
David paced the living room of Britt and Vic’s apartment, while they finished down the hall with Griffin. He ran his fingers down a glistening silver picture frame on an end table. A wedding photo, Britt carrying her down stairs in front of an old building–in England?–with the end of her dress trailing along beside them. Looked like she was squealing, and Britt was cracking up.
He looked around the room. No formal photos–all snapshots, glimpses of their happiness. A picture with some skinny little boy Britt held in front of them by his ankles. Must be Joey. Another of the kid giving the scruffy dog Jake a big kiss on the mouth. Eww. Well, Joey didn’t seem to mind. The dog seemed completely out of place with everything else in the apartment–he was the anticlean. But actually, a kid was pretty out of place at Fantasy Mountain too. What a place. If he lived here, he’d have a perpetual hard-on. Kinda surprising that Britt and Vic hadn’t done any swinging or threesomes before, really.
Britt was right; he hadn’t given himself time to learn much about them. One thing he could tell, though, their marriage reflected the unconventional lifestyle their business required.
Maybe he could fit into their lives.
He sat down on their very clean couch. Shaggy Jake flopped his head into his lap. Fuck. How much longer would they be with Griffin? His hangover was about gone, but damn. He must’ve not slept very well last night. He was bushed. Maybe he’d watch some TV while he waited. Or just chillax here…
He woke with a start. The door had just clicked shut.
“Care for a drink, David?” Britt headed straight to the kitchen.
“Uhm.” God, no, not after last night. “I’m good. Thanks.”
Vic swept by behind him without a word. Well. He probably deserved that.
“You’re certain? No hair of the dog?” Britt stood in the kitchen doorway, a flute of wine in hand and a knowing look on his face. “Settle your nerves?” His voice had lowered.
Nerves. Britt thought he should be nervous. Did that mean he thought Vic might turn him away? “Did Griffin go back to his room? Our room? The room?” Fuck.
Britt shook his head. “Some of the kitchen staff were having a night sled party over at the Alps. He got invited while touring with Vic. I’d imagine he’ll be occupied for the night.”
“So he took the job?”
“After some tough negotiating. Don’t mind saying, I gave him a run for our money, though.” He grinned, but then his right brow shot way up.
Warm hands, soft hands, gripped around David’s neck, slid down his chest inside his shirt. “Back for more fun?” Vic whispered in his left ear.
“Fun?” came out a croak. “I wanted to explain–”
“Shh. No talking.” She slid a silk scarf from her neck to the sofa beside him. “If I have to, I’ll use it.”
He swallowed hard and looked at Britt, who’d taken a seat with his wine, a second glass on the end table between his chair and the sofa. He smirked and sipped.
Vic’s hands worked magic down the front of his shirt, teasing his nipples, caressing, and just like that…boner. She was so fucking good, so hot. So…Vic. He turned his head enough to catch her lips for a kiss. She stiffened and pulled away. What, she didn’t want him to kiss either? Well, that wasn’t–Ah, her lips, hot and wet, on his neck. Gave him goosebumps, made him squirm. She moved away from his neck, pulled his shirt over his head. Let out a moan of appreciation. No pain to his pride there. Whoa. Did she actually sniff his shirt, and close her eyes? That had to be a good thing, right?
She came around to the front of the couch, still wearing her dress slacks, but no more sweater, just some lacy undershirt thing her nipples jutted under. Oh, those nipples. He needed one now. When she straddled his lap and bent back to his neck, he reached for her breasts, palming them, and she arched into it, at the same time grinding her pussy down against him. Oh, fuck. This wasn’t going to be a long lasting event.