“Let’s not discuss that right now, love. It’s a bit of a downer,” Edwin reprimanded him tartly.
James rolled his eyes. “I was just saying.” A vibration in his vicinity had him checking his phone, then he grinned at me a little shyly. “I’m going to find Charley and Luc. They want to teach me some dance. Charley’s decided I need to have ‘properfun’,” he put the words in finger quotes, “and not hang about with the old farts.” His face flamed again even as he smirked. “Not that you’re old, but, yeah.” He rose and leaned over Edwin’s shoulder, almost nuzzling into him. “You two should get whatever’s been building up out of your systems while I’m gone.”
I glanced at Edwin, but his expression was unreadable, although he did flex his fingers against mine. The gesture felt deliberate, intimate.
“Won’t you feel left out?” I asked James carefully.
“Probably,” he admitted, “but I don’t want Edwin missing out on something he wants.” He sighed and draped his arm over the shoulder he wasn’t leaning on. “Besides, I don’t think polyamorous relationships work that way, with everyone being an exact equal part.”
“Get you, sounding like such an expert.” Edwin’s body language was still tense, but this time his smile reached his eyes as he attempted to twist in James’ embrace.
“Fuck’s sake. I’m inexperienced, not incapable of using Google. I also have lots of free time to research stuff that matters, with no worries about the wrong person seeing my browser history. Sometimes you can be a right pillock.” His phone vibrated again. James straightened up and gave Edwin a gentle shove. “That’ll be Charley again. Go fuck, or whatever it is you two want to do. I’ll see you later.” He strode through the kitchen and out of the door without a backwards look, his head held high. Music trickled down the hallway, a heady bass line that permeated the air like a promise. The sound died to a murmur as the door swung slowly closed on well-oiled hinges.
I took a hasty glug of wine and avoided eye contact with Edwin. The silence between us stretched and creaked as his grip on my fingers tightened. I wanted to speak, but even with the wine smoothing the way, my throat was Sahara-dry. I settled forreturning his grip and raising my eyes to find his intense blue gaze on me.
“What?” I finally wheezed when the depth of his stare began to unnerve me.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, I think I’ll explode.”
18
EDWIN
Trace’seyes went wide with surprise, but his pupils dilated as I tugged my hand free of his to stand, then pulled my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. He watched me, anticipation dusting his cheekbones with a ridge of pink while I fumbled with my belt buckle, then undid my trouser button.
“Edwin, we’re in the kitchen,” he sputtered as I made to lower my zip.
“I never took you for a prude.” I strode to the cabinet next to the door and located the key I knew was hidden inside a small dish. With one satisfying click, I turned back to him. “Better?” I smirked as his gaze dropped to my groin, so I deliberately palmed my crotch to see his reaction. “Like what you see, Mr Dempsey?”
“You know I do. Get over here.” He beckoned me closer, his tone low and needy.
As soon as I was within reach, he got to his feet and grabbed me all in one fluid movement, his limbs almost a blur as they swept me up, then pinned me with my arms above my head against the nearest wall.
“I have to know this won’t mess up what you have with James.” His hot breath fanned my cheek as he kicked myfeet apart then stepped into the gap between my thighs. The mouthwatering bulge in his slacks brushed against my erection and I gasped with need.
“I have to trust him.” I could feel my supernaturally-charged blood pumping through every vein. “He told us to fuck. He doesn’t want to; we do. If you still want me...?” I had to be sure. “This isn’t some kind of sympathy shag?”It had better not be.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t do those. Now shut up so I can kiss you.”
Jesus, the way he kissed went through me like ten thousand volts. Every lick, every nibble, seemed wired into my nervous system, lighting fires along my spine and down into my toes. I moaned, because I couldn’t help myself. With my hands pinned, although I could have easily broken free, I felt small, helpless, almost fragile with the careful way he positioned me, and so, so wanted. I allowed Trace to turn me this way and that, giving him access to my neck, one of my favourite erogenous zones. The bastard stayed maddeningly out of humping range though. He denied all my attempts to join our bodies at the one place I needed to feel him.
Finally, he took pity on me and drew me against him, releasing my arms. I instantly wrapped them around him, then whimpered into his mouth as he slid his strong fingers down the back of my trousers.
“Further,” I urged him, shamelessly rutting against him. “Please, more…” My dick was ramrod stiff in my underwear, clamouring to be free from its confines. “Trace…” I whined impatiently. “I told you, I’m not good at waiting.”
“You’ll get what you need,” he promised me. I saw him glance at the door. “Will we really not be interrupted?”
“It’s locked, your modesty is safe. As is the back door. We don’t take chances with security, not with so many humans inthe area.” I tried to slip a hand between us to take some of the pressure off my cock, but Trace was too quick for me.
“Nuh uh, that’s mine to play with. Behave yourself, or I’ll tie your hands behind your back.”
“That really doesn’t help,” I protested, my flies close to bursting.
He glanced down then smirked at me. “So I see. Right, come with me.” He towed me across to the far end of the table where the surface was bare. “I don’t suppose there is anything in this room that would properly restrain you, is there?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I can pretend really well.”
“Good. Over you go then.” He gave me a push in the small of my back, clamping his other hand around the back of my neck, which feltincrediblydirty, then lowered me face down over the table. I let out anoofas my cock got squished, and wriggled backwards a fraction. Trace caressed me through the fabric and muttered an apologetic noise for roughing up my manhood. “Don’t want you damaged,” he soothed. “Just a bit needy.”
