Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More) (2 page)

“Hell, yeah. Do I know you or what?” I finished exposing him and closed my hand around his cock.

He lifted one of my legs high on his hip as I guided him into my starving pussy. I closed my eyes as I luxuriated in this connection to the man I loved.

“God, I’ve missed you, Sophie.” He pumped his hips slowly, savoring the moment and taking his time finding a good rhythm.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Drew kissed me again, his strong lips soft with the flavor of his cherry lip balm. Sometimes he wore more makeup than I did. At least he wasn’t into glitter.

We shut up and gave ourselves over to the feeling of our bodies moving together, getting reacquainted after a three-day drought. He felt so good. I didn’t want to climax too quickly. I wanted this to last as long as it could.

I felt Drew’s mouth on my shoulder, his teeth scraping gently over my skin and generating a storm of sensation that spiraled down my chest. He closed his hand over my breast through the fabric of my dress and kneaded that softly swollen globe.

When he pinched my nipple harder than usual, my eyes flew open and I gasped. He was close to losing it, and I knew he was holding on, waiting for me to go over that cliff first.

Except when I opened my eyes, I became aware that we had an audience. Near the door stood a tall man with a lanky build. The shadows half hid him, so I couldn’t get a great look at his features. I noted the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips. He was thinner than Drew, younger than both of us, and from what I could make out, he had dark hair and nice cheekbones. He hadn’t noticed me looking at him yet because his eyes were glued to Drew’s backside.

I whispered in Drew’s ear. “We have company. Don’t stop.”

Both of us liked an audience. We occasionally played with a third, always a submissive who we often made watch us from some kind of restrained position.

I lifted the tail of Drew’s dress shirt, exposing his butt a little better. He worked out regularly, and he was proud of his muscles. His body shuddered against mine, and the pace of his thrusts slowed. He knew exactly what I was doing.

Our mystery man’s gaze lifted. His eyes met mine, and I winked, an invitation to stay and watch.

I couldn’t quite tell because the room lacked enough light, but I think he blushed. Just then, Drew hit my sweet spot perfectly. I gasped and fisted his shirt tighter in my grip. Forgetting about my desire to prolong our union and the man watching us, I arched against him, and we increased our pace.

Our visitor stepped closer, in what I think was an unconscious reaction. Too caught up in the way Drew made me feel, I vaguely noted his move. Waves washed over me, hot and cold. I went stiff in Drew’s arms and buried a scream of ecstasy in his neck. Drew’s climax followed mine on his very next thrust.

He collapsed against me, pinning me to the wall with his greater weight. His chest heaved against mine. When I was able to move again, I ran my fingers through the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck in a soothing motion. I was careful not to mess up his hair.

By the time I’d gathered my wits, our visitor had disappeared.

Drew slipped out of me slowly, as reluctant to sever our intimate connection as I was. We fixed our clothes, and then he wrapped his arms around me and delved his tongue between my lips for one last, hot kiss.

“Three hours, I think, until I can have you in my bed.” He tugged at the waist of my dress and smoothed out some wrinkles. I liked that he always caught details like that. Thanks to him, no bad photos of me had appeared on the Internet. Drew, of course, looked good no matter what, so no bad photos of him were to be found either.

I grinned. My high heels put me nearly at eye level with him. “You’re seriously going to wait until we’re in bed?”

He quirked his lips up in a half smile. “Probably not. Hopefully we’re alone in the elevator.”

“Maybe our friend will miraculously show up in the elevator. We could invite him to participate.”

Drew grinned. It had been a few months since we’d played with a third. I resolved to scope out all the kitchen staff in an effort to find our mystery man. If he was attractive, I would proposition him.

Sophia

The award show happened during dinner, which was nice for me. I was famished, and after another hour of looking, I still hadn’t found the man who had been spying on us. To be fair, he had been in the shadows, and so had we. It was entirely possible that I wouldn’t know him if I saw him again, and he wouldn’t know me. Those nervous tells would be absent, and I wouldn’t even have those to go on.

Thinking about that made me sad. Whether he was submissive didn’t matter. Drew really liked having sex with men, and it had been too long for him. I could meet his needs in an artificial way, but it wasn’t the same as having another man in our bedroom.

“Sophie? Is everything okay?”

My musings were cut short by Drew. He’d leaned close to whisper in my ear. I tilted toward him. “I can’t find him.”

“Maybe he’s not a server. Maybe he’s a chef’s assistant.”

That possibility hadn’t occurred to me. The man had been so young. Drew had started young, but he’d come from a wealthy family who had financed his dream. This man didn’t strike me as growing up rich. However, Drew understood how people went about hiring kitchen help better than I did. I processed their paperwork and paid them. He and Ginny did the hiring.

I conceded the point. “Maybe.” That didn’t mean I would stop scoping the place for him.

We mingled after the award ceremony, which I thought was a waste of time. Beforehand, those who had been nominated spent the time sizing up the competition and psyching one another out. Afterward, some winners gloated. Others behaved graciously. Some were humble. Okay, very few were humble. Those who lost kissed up, commiserated with other losers, or fled the room to hide anger or tears.

Drew won for an episode featuring my mother’s barbeque sauce. She was going to love that. He thanked her in his speech, but it wasn’t televised or recorded, and that would disappoint her. She liked when he publicly acknowledged co-opting her recipes. The rest of the meal had been pure Drew, but she would conveniently overlook that, and Drew would let her. He was sweet like that. I recorded his speech on my phone so I could send her the video.

Thankfully, he was also one of those who behaved with grace. He didn’t have a humble bone in his body, but at least he wasn’t a dick to the other nominees.

Deke Granger shook my hand, congratulating me on Drew’s win, though I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t know what “Deke” was a nickname for, and I didn’t ask. This man was one of the bigwigs in the studio. I knew to be on the polite edge of friendly with him because he could cancel Drew’s show—or push to make him film in another city, which would move us away from our home—at the drop of a hat.

“Thank you, Deke. Drew does the hard work. I just do the taste testing.”

“And you keep that sparkle in his eyes. Love will do that for a man, you know.”

I smiled, but I did not blush. Drew was not shy about his feelings for me, and I had learned to let him have his public displays of affection.

As if on cue, Drew slipped his arm around my waist and kissed my neck. This was not a possessive display. Deke was short, rotund, and almost seventy. He did not flirt with anybody, much less anybody’s wife. “Hi, Deke. How was Rio?”

“Fantastic. I worked on my tan, and I found a fabulous sous chef. He’s here tonight.” Deke’s dark eyes lit. “Let me grab him. I wanted to introduce you.”

I could tell Drew wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but I also knew he wouldn’t voice that thought. Deke motioned to a server who must have known what he wanted, because the server nodded and disappeared.

Drew and Deke made small talk while we waited. I paid polite attention and tried to stop Drew’s hands from wandering anywhere indecent. He was skilled at using his mouth and hands to do disparate things. I liked that about him.

“Ah, there he is.” He reached out and pulled the sous chef closer.

The new chef was taller than Drew and had a leaner build. He had blue eyes, cornflower instead of icy like Drew’s, and a thick mane of sable hair that fell over one eye. The angular structure of his face matched his build, and I knew instantly that this man had been the one watching Drew and me have sex. More than that, I knew he would make a perfect third for us. I wanted to tie him up and make him squirm. If I listened hard enough, I could already hear him begging.

“Drew Snow, I’d like you to meet Neal Purcell. He’s a huge fan.”

“It’s great to meet you, Neal. The sauce on the mahimahi was bold without overpowering the dish. Was that tarragon you used?”

“It was. Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.” Neal blushed as he shook Drew’s hand, a reaction easily explainable as what happens when a fan meets the chef they idolize. However, the look in his eyes betrayed the real reason he was embarrassed. He recognized Drew from the break room.

“And this is his wife, the lovely Sophia Snow.”

I offered Neal my hand, and he took it. What followed was an establishment of roles. My handshake was firm and confident, a display of my Dominatrix side. Neal responded to this, altering his grip to reflect a submissive nature. I liked when a man recognized and accepted the natural order of things.

As befitting his station, he waited for me to speak. “Neal, at long last, we meet.”

“Yes, Mis—Mrs. Snow.”

Drew lifted a brow at me. He’d caught the fact that Neal had nearly referred to me as “Mistress,” a title only a handful of people used anymore.

Drew doesn’t submit to me. Not ever. We tried that when we first got together, and it didn’t work out so well. Though he’d pretended for my sake, Drew didn’t have a submissive bone in his body. He wasn’t completely Dominant, either, but he didn’t mind topping a sub with me every now and again. It didn’t provide him with the same sense of peace and fulfillment as it did me, but if I set the scene right, we all enjoyed ourselves.

He’d been around me long enough to recognize when I’d topped someone. It turned him on to watch someone submit to me. I couldn’t tear my gaze from Neal to see if he was titillated by this interaction, but I guessed that he was.

I wrapped Neal’s hand in both of mine, a sensual caress disguised as friendliness. “You can call me ‘Sophie.’ For now.”

This time, Drew elbowed me. I’d been so caught up in Neal that I hadn’t noticed Deke giving me a funny look. I released Neal’s hand. Disappointment dimmed his natural glow.

“Thank you, Sophie.”

Deke frowned at me and directed the attention back to Drew. “Neal is looking for a good mentor, Drew. His love is Italian and American cuisines, and you know we don’t specialize in that here. He likes working for me, and he’s a wonderful chef, but I can’t keep him for myself.”

Now it was Drew’s turn to frown. I’m not sure what thoughts were running through his mind, but I understood the situation with crystal clarity. Neal was off-limits. Deke wanted Drew to give him a job.

This was the part where I was supposed to shut up and let the businessmen do the talking. I didn’t handle the hiring or firing at Sensual Secrets. I was their accountant. As their accountant, I’d just handled the paperwork to end the employment of Drew’s last sous chef. She’d worked for him for six years, but now she wanted to open a restaurant. Ginny, Drew’s business partner, and I had thrown a small going-away party last night. I’d texted Drew that he was down one employee. He’d shifted his staff to cover the gap.

Still, I found words pouring from my mouth. “We do have an opening.”

Drew had a sexy frown. That didn’t mean I liked when he turned it on me, which he did right then. The man was damned picky when it came to his kitchen and staff. “I’m willing to grant an interview. Can you be in Royal Oak next Thursday?”

One of the many things I loved about Drew was that he never contradicted me or argued with me in front of other people. When we argued—and we sometimes did have passionate disagreements—it was always in private. He was partial to making a scene only when it involved showing affection, which I didn’t mind at all.

Neal nodded. “Yes, Chef.” He handed Drew a card with his information. “Let me know the date and time, and I will be there.”

He excused himself back to the kitchen. Drew and I took our leave as well. The second the elevator doors closed and we were on the way to our room, Drew addressed a concern I hadn’t considered.

“Sophie, if I hire Neal, that means he’s off-limits to us. I’m not going to risk losing everything I’ve worked to achieve so that you can have a submissive.”

I snorted, but not at the restriction. “You wanted him just as much as I did.”

“Yes, but the fact remains that if either of us comes onto him and there’s even a remote chance that it can be construed as sexual harassment, then we’re screwed.”

“Did I entice him? Did I speak him fair?” I delivered my paraphrase with a half-smile.

“No, but I bet the more you beat him, the more he’ll fawn on you.” He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek in a soothing caress. “Seriously, honey.”

This time, I merely sighed. “I know. Maybe he’ll suck.”

Drew shook his head. “Honey, Deke is known for finding stunning talent. He wouldn’t have let Neal into the kitchen if he didn’t have impressive skills.”