“Sure.” I keep my hand on her knee. I should not be doing this—she’s Ariel’s friend, she’s my employee, I’m at least twenty years older than she is. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
But being with her feels too good. Too right.
On the screen in front of us, the two enemies-to-lovers bicker about how to best plan their best friend’s wedding. Each wants to outdo the other and prove he is the “best” man of honor. The entire premise is wacky and ridiculous, but in a normal setting, I’d probably enjoy it.
Tonight, all I can think of is the knee beneath my palm.
I look over and see Tag massaging her other knee, his fingers creeping up her thigh. Janie’s chest moves up and down, faster with her increased breathing.
I never thought an innocent touch to the knee could get a woman going like this. But it’s having nearly the same effect on me.
The fact that Tag and I are doing this to her together is even hotter.
I creep my hand up another inch. “This okay, doll? We need to know how you really feel about it.”
“Yeah.” Her breath stutters. “It’s, um, good.”
“If you don’t stop us,” Tag says, “we’re going to keep touching you.”
“We’ll keep moving our hands up, and up.” I slide mine toward her pussy as an example. “We’ll keep doing it until you tell us otherwise. What do you think about that?”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “I like it.”
For the first time, I meet Tag’s eyes over her head. He nods. We’re fucking doing this.
JANIE
What universe have I unwittingly wandered into? Maybe this is a dream sparked by my conversation with Ariel? I had that dream on the airplane, where Mr. Capulet taunted me with his cock while Tag restrained me…maybe this is similar? I dig my fingernails into my palm, testing to see whether the pain wakes me up.
Not that I want to wake up. If this is a dream, yes please, let’s keep on going.
I don’t wake up. This is real.
Tag grabs my hand. “What are you doing? Are you hurting yourself, sweetheart?”
“No, I—just, I thought this was a dream.”
He runs his finger over the shallow half-moon shapes in my palm. “I thought maybe you liked the pain.”
Something in his tone has me glancing at his face. His expression is unreadable.
I decide to test the waters. “I don’t…not…like it.”
“Really.” His other hand is still at my thigh. He lightly pinches my skin between his thumb and forefinger.
The shock of it travels from my thigh and up to my pussy, centering at my clit. When I gasp, he leans over and kisses me.
Tag. I’ve missed his commanding kisses, the way he effortlessly takes charge and stokes the flames of my desire. He wasn’t my first kiss, but he was my first—and only—sexual partner.
He parts my lips with his, sending his tongue into my mouth. I suck on him, moaning like the happy, horny hussy I am. As our tongues dance, he slides his hand higher up my thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of my thong.
Mr. Capulet does the same thing. I open my eyes and look to the side to see him watching Tag and me kiss with a longing expression on his face.
This has to be a dream.
I break the kiss with Tag and turn my head toward Mr. Capulet.
All those boundaries I set as his PA, as his daughter’s best friend? Gone as soon as his lips touch mine. His whiskers tickle my lips and cheek. With his free hand—the one not under my skirt, toying with my panties—he grabs my chin to open my mouth and hold me still.
