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“That was your best performance yet,” I quip. “I was totally impressed. You had him eating out of your hand!”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, yeah, Rob… he just needed some guidance.”
“No, I’m serious,” I insist. “You should get an Oscar for that level of acting.”
“Yeah, that’s funny. At least I got some chicken!”
“Oh, Wolfgang can't possibly be in love with you too,” I joke, quaffing the rest of my wine.
I really do want to get out here, right now. My body is roasting, hungrier than it was ten minutes ago. Every time she moves, I can hear her skin softly rustling against itself. I need to open her up, get her into a bed. To lay her down properly nude and have a good look at her. Drink her in.
“But, Dillon! Was he trying to sabotage the whole meeting? What is he thinking?”
“He's thinking he wants a piece of you too. Can you blame him?” I murmur, drawing her close. She melts in my arms.
Now that we're alone, the sounds of the fountain splashing fill the tent and I'm aware of the dense humidity and the blue and purple lights. It really is quite romantic. I wish we'd started out this way, alone and comfortable.
“Hey, don't start without me,” Dillon says, entering quickly and snapping the canvas closed behind him. At least he's discreet enough to do that. In a moment he's on her other side, drawing up close as well, his hands slipping around her middle. She raises her arms, allowing us both to palm her taut, round flesh strategically. His hand slips between her knees and starts to pull them open. In moments his fingers slide behind her neck and tip his face toward hers so he can kiss her long and slow, his cheeks caved in, his eyes tightly closed. For a moment, I do feel sort of bad. He has waited quite a while, while I’ve been able to enjoy my desire for her out in the open.
“All right, let's get out of here,” I announce.
“Excuse me, out of here?” she asks when Dillon releases her lips, blinking in confusion.
“You're coming with us, Bella. I am done talking.”
She pauses, looking at each of us. I see the muscle working at the back of her jaw as she contemplates.
But I don't even have to remind her of the other night. Silently, she stands, adjusting her skirt back over her hips.
“I presume you have a car?” she asks, just before she strides out of the tent.
When we reach our building, we hurry through the granite and glass lobby to our private elevator. Bella turns to me immediately, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me, nearly falling against me. I can still taste the wine on her tongue and kiss her hungrily, eager to absorb everything of her.
“I want to taste you,” I growl, suddenly realizing how desperately I need to have her on my tongue.
“Lean on me,” Dillon instructs her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dipping his head to mouth the soft line between her neck and shoulder.
Her fingers plunge into my hair as I kneel in front of her, shoving her skirt to the side, bu
rying my face between her thighs. I inhale deeply, drinking in perfume… Chanel, I believe, and a deeper perfume. She smells salty, sweet. Like that vanilla and spice that's always on her lips, but more intense. More focused.
My tongue finds her seam; I’m hungry and impatient. I rip the panties away to expose her, feasting my eyes on that beautiful pink curl, the unfurling petals of her sex. I see a glistening drop of wetness, trembling on the outer edge of her lips, inviting me deeper.
I'm starving for her. I have to keep myself from coming right now as I open my lips to cover her whole sex at once, drinking her in, my tongue lapping insatiably. I want all of her.
“Fuck!” Dillon grunts as the elevator door slides open. The three of us tumble inside, eager and blind, confused but determined. Somehow we all make it to the bed, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind us.
Bella breaks away, whirling around to face us both, her hands up as though forming an invisible barrier. Her chest heaves as she stands there, nipples pebbling fast, her body trembling with unmasked desire.
Dillon I glance at each other then wait, standing before her, wanting her and ready, hard as rocks.
“I want it,” she whispers, looking at both of us. “I really do.”
“I know,” I nod, stepping toward her cautiously. I can see that she does want us, but there is that hesitation again. It has to be up to her, completely. I will never force a woman.
“Just relax,” Dillon murmurs. He draws closer to her until his stiff cock brushes against her thighs and she shudders, arching her back and staring up at him longingly. “You will love this.”
He takes her in his arms, kissing her mouth and neck as he crawls from the bottom of the bed. They’re lying in the middle.
