Read Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro Online

Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #Multicultural, #Contemporary, #Menage

Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro (21 page)

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro
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In the half-light, Lars saw a wanton smile on Mattie’s generous lips. “Not likely.”

Lars gazed on in awe as she pushed both of their cocks together and sucked hard on the heads. Pleasure lanced through his system, and his spine cracked as he arched into the contact. It was so intense he could hardly push back his climax. His hands fisted, nails biting into his palms as he fought the urge to grab her. Heat surged in his blood, and his skin sizzled.

Before Lars could lose control, Owen leaned over and took his mouth in a rough kiss. Owen plunged his tongue into Lars’s mouth and invited him to do the same. They grappled like animals, teeth clicking as they took the edge off their cravings.

Mattie groaned softly, letting their cocks slide out of her mouth with a soft sound of satisfaction. “Watching you two kiss is so hot. I want you both to come in my mouth—together. I need it.”

Her words unleashed something primal in Lars. He cupped her face and brushed his thumbs over her full lower lip. It was damp and adorably plump. Owen tenderly threaded his fingers through her tangled hair.

Owen gave voice to the thoughts in Lars’s head. “We can’t leave you hanging like that, baby.”

“Then don’t.” She pulled away from their touch.

Lars wasn’t certain of her meaning until she turned around and put her derriere right in their faces. Her warm slit was damp. He could smell the sweetness of her honey.

Her stance was impossibly wide, her legs spread to straddle their bodies while she took their cocks into her mouth as deeply as she could.

In that small space with no good light, it could’ve been awkward to cooperate with Owen while attempting to give Mattie a climax. It wasn’t. Lars found her slick folds with one hand while Owen leaned in to caress her with his mouth. The brush of his lover’s tongue against Lars’s fingers was erotic beyond endurance. Owen lapped at Mattie’s sensitized clit while Lars slid two fingers inside her tight pussy.

They spread her wide and held her cheeks apart to keep her open. Owen’s greedy moans pushed Lars closer to his peak. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back. Mattie’s demanding sucks, the sensation of their cocks rubbing together inside the wet cocoon of her mouth, and the sharing of her pussy were too much.

Lars added his mouth to the mix. He rubbed it against Owen’s and heard his lover’s sharp intake of breath. Together the two men tongued their female counterpart. The sleek taste of her ripe flesh grew more potent. They kissed her, tracing her contours, loving over each detail until she began to quake beneath their onslaught.

A tremor in his groin shook Lars’s sensual focus. He was poised at the brink, well past the point of no return. He twisted his fingers inside Mattie’s cunt as he found his own release.

Beside him Owen shuddered and groaned as he came. Lars felt Owen’s ejaculate splash against his cock as he bathed the inside of Mattie’s mouth. Her throat moved as she swallowed their combined fluids, and Lars felt a deep sense of connection take hold of his heart.

Mattie’s pussy convulsed as she came. Her groan vibrated along Lars’s shaft, drawing out one last orgasmic tremor. Her channel clamped down on his fingers, and he soaked up the knowledge that she belonged to him and Owen. That they could have her when they chose, give her pleasure, and receive it in return.

 

MATTIE WAS REELING after the shared experience. She’d never expected to find a relationship where each and every time was more intense than the one before. Even now, when they’d only shared oral pleasures, she felt unbelievably close to both Owen and Lars. She never wanted it to end. Tasting them at the same time was an experience she wanted to repeat.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell these two men what she was feeling. Her brain fought free of the postclimactic bliss and recoiled just in time to bite back the three words that had almost instantly ended the relationship she’d shared with Lars all those months ago.

I love them. I actually love them. How stupid can I be?

Owen stroked a loose strand of hair away from her face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

His gentle tone was almost her undoing. She wanted so badly to put words to what she was feeling. A part of her was afraid he’d run away from love just as quickly as Lars had. What was she doing? Enjoying these two, even having a relationship with them, was one thing. Could she really trust them with her feelings? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until she was more certain of things? Surely it was reasonable to protect her heart from getting trounced again. Except every instinct in Mattie was telling her she was going to have to make the first step. She had to be the brave one and go out on a limb or risk losing it all.

Lars sat up and stretched, the muscles in his back undulating in the most enticing way. “What time is it? I don’t know how you keep your days and nights straight living down here, Owen.”

Owen yawned. “That’s kind of the point. Working at a club isn’t a nine-to-five gig.”

“You never answered my question,” Lars groused. “What time is it?”

Owen didn’t miss a beat. “Time for me to put my dick in your mouth so you’ll stop asking?”

Lars pounced on Owen. They wrestled briefly before Lars playfully pinned Owen’s wrists to the mattress. Lars shot Mattie a devilish grin. “Think he’s ticklish?”

“Do I strike you as the ticklish sort?” Owen’s caustic tone made Mattie smile.

“You kind of do, actually.” She moved closer and nuzzled the baby-fine hairs in Owen’s armpit.

He tensed but didn’t laugh or squirm away. “I lied. I’m super ticklish. Try doing that right between my legs. Gets me every time.”

“Such a smartass.” Mattie placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I think that’s one of the things I fell in love with first.” She froze as soon as the words were out. It had been an unguarded moment. One of those times her heart spoke before her brain had a chance to think things all the way through.

She took a breath and tried to find the words to fix her blunder.

“Don’t,” Owen said softly. “Don’t take it back. We don’t have to talk about it or worry about it just now, but please don’t take it back.”

There was an uncomfortable pause, but Lars reached for the phone he’d left on the nightstand before the awkwardness could set in with a vengeance. He flipped on a lamp and squinted at his phone’s display in the soft glow. “It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

Adrenaline shot through Mattie’s system. She groped around for her camisole but found a T-shirt instead. She put it on anyway. “Ten in the morning? Dammit, I have to meet a customer in the gallery in two hours.”

Lars groaned. “And I have a lunch meeting I can’t miss.”

“I’ll go with Mattie,” Owen offered.

She felt like a child they were swapping off babysitting duties. “You don’t have to do that, Owen. Don’t you have a life?”

“No.”

One word, no frills, no sarcasm, and no explanation from the man who’d just begged her not to take back the statement that she loved him. Mattie’s heart nearly overflowed with emotion. “Then you’re welcome to tag along.”

Lars rolled out of the bed and began to dress. He glanced up at Owen as he did. “Are you working tonight?”

“Every night.”

“I have a…thing.” Lars was avoiding their gazes as he fastened his pants and drew his shirt over his shoulders. “I’m hoping it won’t take too long, but I’ll be late.”

Still naked, Owen cut an imposing figure when he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Mattie’s eyes were drawn to the scars on his shoulders and chest. She gazed at them like a painter looks at the subtle imperfections of a model. Not as defects but as intricate artwork all their own. Last night He’d talked of regretting violence. What kind of life had Owen led that he carried marks like those on his body?

Mattie pulled herself back to the moment. She got the feeling Owen wasn’t going to let this “thing” go any more than she was. Lars must’ve felt the heat of Owen’s glare because he finally looked up to meet his lover’s eyes.

Mattie’s brain sorted through the events of the past four days. It felt like she’d lived a lifetime since that Wednesday morning when Meecham had brought Mr. Hyde into the gallery.

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Owen and I met Isabel yesterday.”

“Is that right?” Judging by the expression on Lars’s face, never would’ve been his preferred time to discuss this topic. “What karmic circumstance caused that happy occasion?”

“She bought one of Mattie’s paintings.” Had Lars been looking at Owen, he would’ve known that wasn’t all.

Mattie figured it was a lot like ripping off a Band-Aid. The faster the better. “She only bought the painting as an excuse to hit on Owen.”

Oh, how she wished Lars wasn’t such a pro at hiding his emotions!

He pursed his lips thoughtfully but gave away nothing else. “Is that right?” Taking a seat on a barstool at the tiny counter, he put on his shoes.

Her heart was pounding. In another second she’d be screaming like a banshee. How could he be so damn calm about this? “Were you ever planning to mention that you had a
date
tonight, Lars Aasen?” She propped her hand on her hip and cocked her head and wondered if she was somehow channeling her Aunt Lindsay. The woman could have been a CIA interrogator.

“I didn’t figure it mattered.” He stood up and reached for his keys.

She snatched them off the countertop. “The hell it doesn’t!”

“Easy, baby.” Owen was suddenly behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder. He’d pulled on his jeans, though they hung open, but his chest was still bare. It occurred to her that it might have been because she had appropriated his T-shirt.

Lars closed his eyes briefly and inhaled deeply before letting it out in one long huff. “There’s nothing between Isabel and me. I think the two of you know it. And”—he looked more amused than miffed—“if she’s hitting on other men, I’m hoping she realizes it too.”

Mattie bit her lip, but it couldn’t stop the rest from tumbling out. “Isabel said her mother and your mother want the two of you together. Is that true?”

“Unfortunately.” Lars looked less than pleased about the idea.

“So tell her you’re already with somebody.” Mattie pulled away from Owen, desperately needing Lars to understand what this meant. “You’re with us, Lars. Aren’t you?”

He looked first at her before his gaze flicked to Owen. “Of course I am.”

“Then shouldn’t you tell your mother about us? If you have to have a date, we’ll just go with you.” Mattie glanced back at Owen, aware that she’d just volunteered him to take the night off work. “Or I will at least, since Owen’s working.”

Lars took her by both shoulders and gazed into her face. “Mattie, you don’t want to go. Trust me. A bunch of snobs in evening wear celebrating their inflated sense of self-worth. You’d be bored out of your mind.”

A horrendous thought hit her all at once. Mattie had known Selena since they were ten. They’d been best friends after meeting at a summer camp. Mattie had even gone to Selena’s snobby private school on an art scholarship. It was no secret that the Aasens had money. Selena had turned herself inside out for years trying to be society’s perfect little debutante.

It’s me. Lars can’t show up to one of these fancy parties with someone like me on his arm.

“You’re ashamed of us,” she whispered, appalled by the words even as she said them.

“What? No!” Obviously startled, Lars let go of her shoulders and backed away. “Is that what you really think?”

Owen was silent at her back. Why wouldn’t he
say
something? How could he be so calm and rational when the whole world was falling apart? Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. She wouldn’t cry this time. She didn’t want to waste her energy.

She flung the keys on the floor and reached for Owen’s comforting bulk. Hiding her face against his warmth, she refused to hear whatever else Lars might say.

 

OWEN WRAPPED HIS arms around Mattie’s curves and let her snuggle close. He could’ve been angry with Lars for hurting her, but he wasn’t. Yet.

“Do you believe I’m
ashamed
of you?” Lars asked, eyes wide with surprise and shock.

“No.” Owen gazed at the man who’d become so much more than a lover. He knew Lars, understood him in ways most people didn’t. Owen didn’t need Lars to explain why he was going on a
date
with Isabel. Lars still had some seriously screwed-up family shit to deal with. Owen got that.

Lars seemed to sense there was a lot more. “But?”

“You need to understand how it looks from her perspective. At some point, you have to choose. You’re either with us. Or you’re not. It’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple at all,” Lars snapped. He retrieved his keys, flipping them around his finger in agitation. “It’s anything but simple. I have obligations…family stuff… You know I do.”

Owen wondered how much longer Lars would be able to fool himself into thinking he’d ever be able to fulfill those “obligations.” There was so much more to Lars Aasen than he was willing to give himself credit for. Owen knew that beyond a doubt. “You have obligations here too. That’s all we’re trying to say. All right?”

The muscles in Lars’s jaw tensed. Owen wondered if the man would grind his teeth down to stubs before he decided to take the plunge and come clean with his mother. Owen didn’t know Lars’s mother, but he didn’t envy his lover the task of sitting her down and explaining to her that there wouldn’t be any grandchildren.

Owen gazed at Mattie curled protectively against his body.
Not grandchildren in the usual sense, anyway.

“I have to go,” Lars said quietly. “We’ll talk about this when I come back.” He raised a hand as though he wanted to touch Mattie, but sighed and turned away instead.

When the door closed, Mattie lifted her head and glared up at him. “You just let him leave. Why?”

He gazed down into her beautiful blue-gray eyes and begged the spirits of his ancestors for the wisdom to say the right thing. “You thought it would be better to tie him to the bed?”

Not for the first time, Owen wondered if his ancestors had been the smartasses of the Narragansett tribe. Then Mattie’s frown crumbled, and a smile made her bottom lip poke out. Humor was the best medicine he knew of. Sometimes it just made life bearable.

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro
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