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“Or you can be more…hands-on in your interviews. Everyone in the room knows the drill, that it’s your choice and you can take back that offer at any point. As long as you respect their boundaries, feel free to follow what your mind and body dictates.”
Jesus fucking Christ, I was on fire, something the two ladies seemed to understand, leaving not long afterwards. Shaun took up position at my back, his hands on my breasts, teasing my nipples through his shirt.
“Freedom huh?” I asked shakily, need slamming into me harder than it ever had before.
“Freer than you’ve ever been.” His voice was a low husk in my ear as his hand slid into my shorts. “Now spread your legs and let me take the edge off.”
So I did. Of course I did. I wanted the feel of those long, sure fingers—which seemed to just know what I needed—like my next breath.
Chapter 14
Every woman, at some point of her adult life, needed to sit on a velvet wingback chair, leg slung over an armrest, one hot dude at her side as she sorted through a sea of other hot dudes, looking for those she wanted to fuck. Some girls wanted to be princess for a day and have a fancy arse wedding, others wanted accolades for their achievements, but as the door opened, a tall, dark, and handsome man waiting behind it, a whole room of them beyond, I knew what I preferred. I shifted in my chair, feeling the heat surge.
“It’s OK,” Shaun said, rubbing my shoulder, the man in the doorway staring at the point where our bodies intersected.
Yeah, it fucking was. Like, I was glad for the friendly presence by my side, particularly as this new specimen shouldered his way forward, but damn. He filled the door frame, looking down at me like I was especially edible, his gaze sliding all over me, almost tangible, before settling in the cloth covered space between my thighs. He had a mop of shaggy, dark brown hair, a full beard, and skin that in-between bronzed shade that indicated an ancestry much more interesting than just Anglo Celtic.
“And who are you, pretty?” I asked.
A slow smile spread across his face, his coffee-coloured eyes sparkling. He settled against the doorjamb, crossing his arms, ignoring the mutters of the guys behind him.
“Name’s Axel,” he replied, “and you’re Ms Bec.” His eyes flicked up to meet Shaun’s, and I followed them, catching the other man’s carefully neutral expression. “Shaun.”
Shaun did that little head tilt thing men seem to do with each other, keeping all their interactions super minimal, but as I searched his face, I didn’t get any tension or reticence.
“So how do we do this?” I asked Shaun, then glanced back
at Axel, peering past him. “Like, do I interview them? Pepper them with questions about their sexual do’s and don’ts? Take measurements?”
As if in response to that, Axel’s hand strayed to his groin, and it was soon obvious why. It became all too apparent that he was smuggling an anaconda in his pants. I should have looked away but couldn’t, and seriously, would you? You saw this kinda stuff in porn, heard ladies talking about monster dick in the ladies’ toilets in clubs, but it was a bit like Nessie the Loch Ness Monster—everyone talked about it, but who’d actually seen it? I heard his low chuckle, his hand moving slowly, making sure I saw exactly how the fabric of his pants stretched over every bloody inch.
“Um…OK, so that’s a definite maybe,” I said, fidgeting in my chair, almost able to feel that huge thing pushing inside me and unsure if he would rock my world or tear out my cervix on the downstroke. “Like, I don’t know if I could even take that.”
“Girls do, boys do,” the man himself replied with a shrug. “I get no complaints. If I take my time, make sure you’re feeling nice and relaxed, you’ll do just fine.”
And right now, I wanted to test that statement’s validity with every bone of my body. It was like he’d drawn a line in the sand, told me I had to be this high to get on this ride, and nothing focussed my attention like a challenge.
“And if I can’t?” I replied, forcing myself to try and consider the implications of the truly insane scenario I was in. I felt I was pretty sex positive. I’d had threesomes when I was in my twenties, played around with some low-level kinks, but Cosmopolitan magazine had seriously let me down in their sex advice columns by not preparing me for organising my own orgy.
The smile faded, and something much cooler, almost defensive rose up inside.
“Then you send me home,” Axel replied. “We all know the drill and expect that to be the case with some of us. It’s happened more than once before. I know how to deal.”
Strangely, it was that expression, not his massive hard-on, that drew me up and out of my chair and closer.
“Bec,” Shaun said with a low growl, so I turned to look at him.
“You won’t let them hurt me, right?” Somehow, I knew that was true, probably my Tirian’s machinations, a low rumble of approval coming from her. Shaun moved to my side, the two of us somewhat dwarfed by the massive man.
“Never,” Shaun replied, reaching out and placing a hand on my arm. “I’ve fought off a lotta blokes in the past, but…” His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “I’d prefer not to have to take on every guy in the place.”
I moved in closer, Shaun seeming impossibly pleased when my arm snaked around his waist, my head leaning on his shoulder.
“I need…” Both men hung on my words. “I feel like I need to smell him.”
Axel’s smile was back again, a slow thing that had me following every movement of his mouth.
“You want to get his scent?” Shaun asked. “That’s smart. A lot of what we know and how we find who we’re compatible with comes from that. More us guys than women, but…it’s what fucked me up about you.” His nose pressed into my neck. “I walk into some roadhouse, and there’s you, smelling like sugar, temptation, and bad decisions.”
