Read Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro Online

Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #Multicultural, #Contemporary, #Menage

Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro (8 page)

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro
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Owen picked up her hand, the one that had been buried in her crotch only seconds before. He nuzzled her fingers before licking them clean. The sensation sent her right back to the edge.

“I think it’s Lars’s turn to come.” Owen’s expression was wicked enough to make her belly flutter. “What about you?”

Chapter Six

Lars tried again to tamp down the powerful emotions that threatened to shatter his composure. This was only a temporary situation. It wasn’t his real life. It couldn’t last. He couldn’t
allow
it to last.

Owen climbed onto the bed and settled his back against the smooth wooden slats. “Come closer, Mattie.”

She cast a sideways glance at Lars before moving toward Owen. Lars couldn’t blame her for the mistrust he saw in her gaze. He was stunned she hadn’t thrown him out the moment she’d seen him downstairs. She’d have been well within her rights. He hadn’t given her an explanation the night he’d left her. At the time, he hadn’t the words. Now, he was too much of a coward to try to explain his reasons.

Owen pointed at Mattie with one graceful hand. “As much as I like to see you in my shirt, it’s in the way.”

When she pulled the black cotton over her head, Lars bit back a groan. Her breasts jiggled as she tossed the shirt aside. She had great breasts. They were just the right size to fill his hands, and her nipples were pretty, pink, and sensitive. He’d always taken his time with them. Hell, he’d always taken his time with Mattie. Period.

Given the chance, Mattie would always rush headlong into the finale. She goaded with her words and her body until a man’s mind shut down, and he was reduced to a creature with a desire for only one thing.
Fulfillment
. She wanted fucking, and she wasn’t shy about demanding it, but in the end she wound up frustrated. True release always hovered just beyond her grasp. Nobody had ever challenged Lars like Mattie did. Bringing her true pleasure was a test of wills.

Mattie climbed onto the bed and went right into Owen’s arms. Lars watched Owen nestle her sexy curves against him. With her back to his chest, he used his legs to spread hers apart and pinion them open.

Lars met Owen’s gaze. He wondered if he should let himself be lured into a sense of comfort with this man. Owen was a lot of things to a lot of people, but he’d been lover to Lars for more than five months. It was a short time, but Lars had let Owen see more of his true self than he’d ever intended. Now Lars couldn’t prevent himself from trusting a man who knew him better than almost anyone else.

Owen laced his fingers with Mattie’s. “How long has it been since Lars has been between your legs, Mattie?”

“Five months.” She sounded breathless, but Lars couldn’t decide if it was apprehension or anticipation.

Lars gazed at her pussy on display. He knew her taste, the slick embrace of her depths. It’d been too long. He lifted his eyes to Owen’s face. “Six days before I came to you.”

Surprise lit Owen’s dark eyes, and Lars could see him piecing it all together. After tonight, Lars wouldn’t be able to hide from his own cowardice any longer. Even more shocking, he didn’t want to.

Mattie squirmed against Owen’s hold. “Please, Lars. It’s been so long.”

“No.” Lars fought down the demands of his body and clung to his self-control. “That’s not how this goes, and you know it.”

 

OWEN WAS STUNNED by Lars’s flat refusal. The jolt made him take a mental step back. Lars wanted Mattie. That much was obvious, but Owen knew Lars. The man had restraint down to an art form.

Lars sat on the bed and ran one hand up the inside of Mattie’s leg. “You need more than a quick fuck.”

Her whimper made the hair at the nape of Owen’s neck stand on end. She moved restlessly, and he held her more firmly against his chest. Murmuring soothing nonsense in her ear, he wondered where Lars was leading them.

Lars gently splayed her pussy lips open and blew a light stream of air across the glistening flesh. She quivered and arched her back. When he placed his mouth against her sex, she groaned and flexed her hips.

The sound of Lars lapping Mattie’s cunt sent a thrill of awareness through Owen. He’d never before had an inclination to watch another man pleasure a woman. This was different. Lars rooted against her folds, nuzzling, licking, sucking, and making her moan with need. The sight transfixed Owen even though his gaze was partially obstructed by the heaving fullness of Mattie’s breasts.

“Please, Lars,” Mattie begged.

Lars gazed up at her as he worked her clit with his tongue. Owen caught his eye, mesmerized by the determination he saw there. When Mattie jerked against Owen’s chest and cried out, he realized she’d come.

“Good girl,” Lars crooned as he backed off and began to stroke her pussy with his hand. “I’m going to make you come one more time before I slide my cock inside your cunt.”

She was panting, trembling in Owen’s arms. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Don’t make me wait.”

It was Owen’s turn to groan when Lars buried three fingers in her slippery sex and then leaned over her shoulder to seek Owen’s lips.

He could taste her on Lars’s tongue. As their mouths met in a crescendo of passion, Owen struggled not to be overcome. Mattie was rocking against his chest as Lars finger-fucked her. Owen could feel every sweet tremor in her sensitive body. Owen’s tongue dueled with Lars’s for dominance, fighting to get closer, to set a faster pace. Lars held firm. He kept the rhythm of their kiss in tune with his penetration into Mattie’s body.

“I’m so close, so close.” Her sweet mutterings were like throwing gasoline on an open flame.

Owen shifted his hold on her body and cupped her breasts in both hands. He rolled her nipples between his fingers until he felt her come undone in his arms. She flung her head back just as Lars broke contact with Owen’s mouth. The three of them gasped in unison, and Owen wondered how much longer Lars could hold out.

Lars’s knees seemed to buckle, and he lay flat on his back on the end of the bed. His cock jutted up from his body. The dusky flesh was swollen tight. A drop of fluid beaded at the tip and dribbled over the plum-shaped crown. Owen’s mouth watered, but this wasn’t the time to suck his lover’s cock. Lars deserved Mattie’s hot pussy embracing him instead.

“Ride him, Mattie,” Owen urged. He released her, and she crawled toward Lars.

She climbed astride their lover’s narrow hips, and Lars settled his hands at her waist. Owen couldn’t resist touching Lars’s thick erection. Lars hissed at the contact, the noise dissolving into a groan when Owen helped him slide between the lips of Mattie’s sleek pussy.

“I can’t hold on, Owen.” Lars met his gaze with green-tinged eyes hazy with lust. “Help me push her over the edge again.”

Mattie cried out and began to grind her pelvis against Lars’s prone body. Owen got behind her, straddling Lars’s legs and steadying her rhythm. Her movements were frantic, jerky with pent-up desire. Owen began to count softly in her ear, helping her find a steady tempo. She settled into a series of long sweeping strokes that made Lars squeeze his eyes closed.

Owen slid his hands over Mattie’s hips and found the place where her body was joined to Lars’s. Using two fingers, he began to rub quick circles around her throbbing clit. The little bundle was hard and hot. It swelled with the attention, and Mattie redoubled her efforts to fuck Lars.

Pressed against Mattie’s lower back, Owen’s cock wept in frustration. He ground his teeth together as the stimulation pushed him near the breaking point. It wasn’t time to sate his lust. It was time to find his lovers’ pleasure.

“Now, Mattie, give it to me now!” Lars’s gritty order resonated around the room.

Her sex quivered beneath Owen’s hands before giving in to orgasm. The powerful contractions took his breath away. She collapsed onto Lars’s chest, snuggling against him even as he wrapped his arms around her. The sight sent a confusing barrage of unfamiliar emotions through Owen. It was as if someone had thrown ice-cold water on him. Tenderness had no place in his mind or his heart. No matter how close he might feel to the two people who’d just tilted his whole world on its axis—they were both better off without him.

 

MATTIE SENSED THEIR withdrawal almost immediately. Lars had always been like this. Once the postcoital bliss evaporated, he was reduced to nothing but self-hatred. She just wished she knew
why.

She lay perfectly still, ear pressed to Lars’s chest as she listened to his heartbeat. How many times had she done this? She could almost predict the moment when his doubts about his feelings would overpower the afterglow.

It was Owen who shattered the moment this time. His feet hit the floor with a surprisingly soft
thump
for a man of his size. When he began to dress, Mattie felt a piece of her heart chip away.

Lars lifted his head and stared at Owen. “Are you on the door tonight?”

“I was.” Owen produced a hair tie from his pocket and began scraping the front portion of his thick black hair into a ponytail. “There are a few hours yet until daylight. Malachi will cover for me. Are you driving back into Boston?”

Mattie wondered if she could pin at least one of them in her bed by refusing to move. Lars shot down that little fantasy when he rolled to his side and untangled himself from her embrace. Her pride refused to let her cling.

“I need to head back to Brookline.” Lars searched for his clothes, shooting Owen a dirty look when he realized his shirt was beyond saving.

“I left Selena’s car in Salem.” Owen’s gaze started to slide toward Mattie, but he stopped short of actually looking at her. “Can you drop me back there?”

“Sure.”

So now she was the elephant in the room? It was plain that the two of them had a life together outside of the bedroom. Outside of this little side trip to the land of erotic fantasies. It hurt like hell to be the one left on the outside, but wasn’t that what usually happened in threesomes?

She got to her knees and snapped her fingers. “Hey!”

They paused in the act of putting on their shoes, looking almost surprised she’d interrupted. The artistic side of her brain was still enthralled by the sheer contrast of the two men. Owen so broad and dark like an ancient warrior from a forgotten era, and Lars with his studied air of sophistication and an aura that screamed badass.

She gathered her courage. This was no time to turn complacent. “Sorry to be an inconvenience here
in my own bedroom
. But I’m sick of sitting by the phone. So let’s just get it out there, shall we? I’m guessing this was a one-time thing? The two of you will go back to your happy-ass relationship without me getting in the middle and screwing things up?”

Lars at least had the sense to look guilty. Owen was another story. For the span of two breaths, she thought he was going to cave. Sorrow lit his dark eyes before they shuttered completely. He could not have made things more clear had he physically shoved her away.

How could she have been so wrong? Lars was just repeating history, but Owen had seemed so different! Her instincts had failed her this time. Hell, her soul had failed her. The same soul that was screaming inside her, wanting nothing more than to throw itself at their feet and beg them to at least try admitting they had feelings.

Fortunately she had a little bit of pride.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Angry tears stung her eyes. “Both of you get out, and don’t come back!”

She grabbed a pillow and gave a swing that was more frantic than accurate. Her pillow glanced off Lars’s shoulder. He didn’t even try to step away, though she knew he could have.

“Mattie, I’m sorry.” He began backing toward her bedroom door. “Nothing has changed for me in the last five months.”

“Nothing?” She screamed her frustration, willing him to understand how much he’d hurt her. “You have him! That’s what’s changed.”

“No.”

Owen’s quiet pronouncement took all the wind from her sails. The pillow fell from her lifeless fingers as she turned to stare at the man she’d known only a handful of hours. The one who’d rescued her, the one whose soul had felt as though it was a match for hers.

Owen’s hard eyes were like shards of obsidian in his face. “Lars and I were done this morning. He knows it. So do I. He’ll go back to London in two weeks, and the three of us will move on with our lives.”

Lars picked up the thread. “You’ll find someone else, Mattie. You’re too special not to. You’ll find a man who isn’t…damaged. One who can love you back with no strings attached. A guy who’ll give you a houseful of kids.”

Owen’s brow knit briefly before he smoothed his face into an expressionless mask. Mattie was still trying to come to terms with what they were telling her. After sharing an experience that could not possibly have meant nothing—no matter what they wanted to believe—they planned to walk away?

She couldn’t think anymore. Her heart hurt. Shoving her way past Lars into the hallway, she cast one look back over her shoulder. “Lock up on your way out. I’m done with this right now.”

She shut herself in the bathroom and sank down to the cold linoleum floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she let the tears come. Sometimes that was the best way to make sense of something that was absolutely nonsensical.

Chapter Seven

Lars felt dead inside by the time he pulled his car beneath the portico of the Aasen Brookline estate. All he wanted was a shower, a set of clean clothes, and maybe a few hours of sleep. Then it would be time to return to the real world of Aasen International and his useless personal life.

“Thank God!” Selena burst through the front door and stood on the top step with her hands on her hips. “Don’t you ever answer your damn phone?”

He shut his car door and took the front stairs one at a time without answering. He didn’t have an answer. Initially he’d been stupid enough to think it would be easier to talk to her face-to-face. Especially since he was going to read her the riot act for sending him out to Mattie’s when she damn well knew Owen was already there.

“Is she okay?” Selena demanded.

He considered the question. “Depends on your definition of okay, I suppose.”

BOOK: Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro
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