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The hotel room’s air-conditioning was blasting, but the cool air did nothing to ease my burning skin as Foster’s gaze trailed over me. “It’s a crying shame that you’ve been hiding under scrubs all this time.” He cupped the side of my face, running a thumb over my cheek and meeting my eyes. “You’re stunning, Cela.”
I looked down, my hair falling forward. I’d been told I was pretty before. But never before had those words sounded so genuine, so stripped down. It was almost as if Foster hadn’t wanted the compliment to escape, but couldn’t help himself.
Pike stepped around from behind me and smiled a smile that unwound the last tangle of tension inside me. Foster’s intensity had always drawn me, had laced my fantasies, but Pike’s sexy boldness brought out my confidence. Shame had no place here with these two. They weren’t here to judge me on my sexual prowess or experience. And they’d never laugh at me. They wanted me. And I wanted them. That was all that mattered tonight.
I’d figure out the rest as I went along.
“Tell us what’s on your mind, gorgeous,” Pike said. “What’s making you bite your lip?”
I paused, not even realizing what I’d been doing and released my lip from beneath my teeth. “I’m not sure what to do next.”
The curve of Foster’s mouth filled with illicit promise. “Close your eyes, angel.”
I let my eyelids fall shut and clasped my hands in front of me. Vulnerability rippled through me, but I focused on my breath, counting the inhales and exhales. I could sense Pike and Foster standing there, watching me. Then there was the faint rasp of cloth, movement around me. Smooth palms touched my shoulders and squeezed. “Walk forward, Cela. I won’t let you run into anything.”
Foster guided me with gentle nudges, his big body pressing against my back, until my knees brushed against something—some piece of furniture. He spun me, staying behind me, and then his fingers were touching the hook of my bra. I sucked in a breath as the front clasp gave way, exposing my nipples to the bite of cool air. My hands moved upward, an automatic shielding
reaction. But Foster’s hands were around my wrists in a flash, pulling my arms down to my sides.
“Gorgeous,” Pike said from somewhere in front of me, the reverent tone making my insides go liquid. “Take off the rest. It’s my turn to make you moan like you did in the cab.”
My pulse jumped, the suggestion almost enough to send me halfway there already. Foster released my wrists and the couch springs squeaked faintly as he took a seat behind me. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, thankful for the alcohol I’d had tonight. I wasn’t drunk, but there was definitely some liquid courage still pumping in my veins. After one fortifying breath, I slid my panties down my thighs.
When I reached my heels, I had to balance carefully to slip the underwear off, leaving me bent and exposed to Foster. A rumbled groan sounded behind me, and then Foster’s hands were spanning my hips. “Stay just like that.”
I halted in place, one hand on the floor to keep my balance—not that I ever felt balanced around these two. Foster’s thumbs traced along the cleft of my backside, making me momentarily tense, and then ventured lower, finding the lips of my sex and spreading me. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting hard to be still and not let my knees buckle. Then the hot, wet flat of his tongue was on me, tasting my heat and launching a bottle rocket of sensation through every one of my nerve endings.
“Oh, God,” I said on a sharp breath. My hips tilted upward, putting me teetering on my toes, but there was no way I was going to let myself fall and miss a second of the blissful sensation that was radiating outward from the caress of Foster’s skillful mouth.
The tip of Foster’s tongue teased my clit and then ran along my crease, his thumbs keeping me exposed to him. My eyelids squeezed even tighter. Only one other guy had ever attempted to go down on me, and clearly he’d been a novice because it’d felt nothing like this. And though I’d become quite proficient in taking care of my own needs, feeling Foster’s tongue against me wasn’t even on the same continent as that sensation. This was just . . . guh.
His breath was hot against me, his stubble rasping along my tender skin. “So sweet, angel. I could spend all night tasting you, feeling you come against my mouth.”
My back bowed, my body aching for him to do just that. But instead of continuing, he shifted away, caressing the outsides of my thighs.
“But I’m being selfish,” he said, a dark smile hiding in his tone. “Stand up.”
After taking a second to make sure I’d heard correctly, I pushed myself to stand. A head rush and the pulsing need between my legs sent me swaying on my feet. “Whoa.”
Foster’s hands kept me steady. “Sit back on me, angel. I think it’s time we reward Pike’s patience, don’t you?”
I gulped at the thought, anticipation spinning in me, but managed a nod. “Yes.”
A quick pinch at my waist made me gasp, then Foster’s smooth, commanding voice: “If you want me to be in charge, I expect you to call me by my name or sir. Do you understand?”
The command made my thoughts stutter, trip over each other. Sir? The idea should’ve been laughable, but for some reason it made something snake low and hot in my belly. I swallowed past my parched vocal cords. “Yes . . . sir.”
He kissed the spot he’d pinched. “Good girl. Now sit back and let us enjoy you.”
Good girl. Those were the most ironic words of the night. It was who I’d been all my life, but right now I was as far removed from that label as I’d ever been—uncharted waters. I kept my eyes closed and let Foster guide me in between his spread thighs.
He looped my arms above me, securing them around his neck, and then hooked his ankles with mine, parting my legs and opening me to Pike. I may have ceased breathing.
“You can open your eyes now, doc,” Pike said, his voice devoid of the playfulness that usually colored it.
I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, totally exposed and vulnerable. But something about being held in place, Foster’s hard body beneath me, had everything in me pulsing and my body aching. This is what I’d asked for—the absence of choice. Knowing that they were deciding the moves took away some of the awkwardness that would’ve swamped me otherwise.
I lifted my lashes, colliding head on with Pike’s heated stare. He’d stripped off his shirt, gifting me with the sight of all that tawny muscle and tattooed skin. I wanted to touch him, to explore, to taste, but as if invisible bonds had wrapped around my wrists, I kept my hands locked above me, clasping Foster’s neck.
