Her Fantasy (2 page)

“Wanted this for so long,” he whispered to her, so close to coming.
“Oh, Warren.” Her head had fallen back against the cushions on the sofa, and she panted aloud. “Warren,” she whispered again, on a moan of pleasure.
He lifted up on his arms.
Just one more thrust…
His climax roared up inside him. For several moments, he lost contact with everything but the glorious sensation of coming, wedged so tightly inside her.
When he came through it, his breath rasped into his lungs. Anya had arched up on the sofa, her hands locked on his shoulders. Her pussy clenched and released, hot and fluid. He kissed her temple and then her cheekbone, his arms enfolding her.
“Anya,” he said, his voice hoarse, as he stroked her hair away from her face. Words crowded in his head, possessive, crazy words that he wanted to say to her.
Keep it light, he reminded himself.
He would. He would do whatever it took.
As far as he was concerned, this was just the beginning.

Chapter Three

A week later Warren entered the office and heard the sound of Anya’s laughter. It made him smile. Just the sound of her happiness made everything seem right in the world. It was good to be back. He’d been working with a client in Dublin for the past three days and he’d missed her so much he’d practically tripped himself up on the stairs, racing to get up here and see her again.
“Well, here he is, the man himself.” It was Lorie, the office administrator, who spoke, and she looked as if she’d been waiting for him to arrive to get a good look at him. The women had been talking again, and he was the subject this time around, no doubt about it.
Anya stood by her desk, her hair tidy and secured at the back of her head. She wore a smart business suit and held an electronic notepad in one hand. The look was familiar to him, but it wasn’t the look he wanted right at that moment. He wanted that elegantly wasted, satiated look that she had in their more intimate moments.
She smiled his way, her eyes lighting, and pride filled his chest.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He crossed over to her, resting a kiss on her cheek. It occurred to him that they should perhaps have discussed how they would act around each other at work. The last thing he wanted to do was make Anya feel uncomfortable. People knew they were seeing each other, but he hadn’t thought to prepare for it. The truth of the matter was that after their first date at Fat Franco’s they’d spent the whole weekend in her apartment, mostly in her bed. They only went out to hunt down food. Then he’d had to prepare for his business in Dublin.
He rested one hand against the small of her back as he kissed her cheek and resisted pulling her closer. Anya turned her face to his, kissing him directly on the mouth in greeting. Relieved, he squeezed her closer to him.
“Good to see you.” Her eyes glowed.
“Anya told me all about your date,” Lorie said. She had stopped working and had now folded her arms in an expression of mock chastisement. Lorie held the unofficial title of agony aunt for the office, and Warren wondered whether there was any real disapproval underlying her comment. Lorie directed her attention back to Anya. “You were saying, before the man arrived?”
Anya chuckled, and Warren felt for sure he was being wound up here. “Don’t let me interrupt.” He put his hands up in surrender. He was happy just to look at Anya. Breathing deeply the scent of her perfume, he leaned up against a nearby desk, watching as the women chatted.
Anya rolled her eyes, and picked up some papers from her desk. “I’m just about to go in and give a presentation. Will you be around for lunch?”
“Yes. We’ll catch up then.”
She looked back at Lorie. “If any calls come in for me while I’m in the meeting just let my voice mail pick them up. Anything urgent, I can deal with it after two.”
Lorie nodded, but she kept staring at him. She did it in the most unsettling way. Warren liked Lorie. She was a caring woman and she held the office together, but he could tell she had something on her mind.
The door to the adjoining conference room opened and one of the senior executives stuck his head out. “We’re ready for you now.”
Anya nodded, blew Warren a kiss, and headed off.
Lorie sat back in her chair, stretching. “Well, now, I gather you had quite an impact on our friend.”
“A good impact, I hope.” The scrutiny she addressed him with unsettled him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had been said about the date. Had he rushed her? Had he been too forthright? Women talked about these things. Lorie probably knew more about it than he did.
Lorie gave him a reassuring smile, and then glanced at the conference room door as if to make sure it was shut. “I’m glad we have a minute alone because I wanted to let you know that Andrew’s been on the phone every day while you’ve been in Dublin. He wants to patch things up with her.”
That one small comment made him feel as if he’d been punched in the gut. Warren turned away, glancing at the boardroom door where she had gone. He had spoken to her every night while he’d been away, and she hadn’t mentioned Andrew or the phone calls. This wasn’t good.
Opening up his documents case he sought out the signed contracts he had to deliver to the head of accounts. Retrieving the file, he slotted it into the appropriate pigeonhole. Glancing back at Lorie, he realized she was still waiting for his response. Right then, he didn’t think he could muster one.
“I thought it was only fair that you knew, so that you can be prepared. I consider you both good friends, and I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
Warren wasn’t sure he wanted to thank her for the news, but he knew she meant well. He forced a smile. “I appreciate it. The most important thing is that Anya is happy, whatever the outcome.”
Even as he said the words—and he meant it—he knew that he couldn’t go back to being friends if she made up with her ex. The very thought of it made him feel irrational and angry. Things would never be the same. He’d have to ask for a transfer. It would be easy enough to do, but he also balked at the idea because it meant he would never see her again.
Right from the moment he’d decided to go ahead and ask her out, he knew it wouldn’t be easy because the odds were that she was on the rebound. It was his way to go after things he wanted, full-throttle, but he had never wanted anything as much as he’d wanted Anya. He’d waited and watched until he couldn’t do so any longer, even though he still wasn’t sure. Thinking about it made him want to kick himself. Damn it. He’d just been starting to relax into the situation. Now he wanted to know how long he could possibly make it last. He wanted forever, and that might not happen. If Andrew was still in the picture, he needed to pull back and lighten up, fast.
Whatever time they had together, he wanted to make it special for her. He would never forget her, and he wanted their time together to be a memory she could treasure, too.

Chapter Four

Anya looked at the house on the seashore with curiosity as Warren pulled in and parked the car. The small, low-slung building looked like an artist’s studio, all wood and glass. There was a car in the driveway. She glanced at Warren.
“Somebody lives here?” He hadn’t mentioned that when he said he was taking her to the Norfolk coast for the weekend.
Warren switched off the engine. “No. The house is mine, a retreat and a bit of an investment. I invited a friend to join us.” He paused. “I told you, I intend to make all your fantasies come true.”
There was a twinkle in his eye. Anya’s breath hitched, before racing on. He’d informed her several times that he was serious about making her fantasies come true. In particular he’d reminded her about the threesome fantasy, and he’d done so in the dark and across a pillow, between rounds of passionate lovemaking. Whispered erotic scenarios that made her blood pump and her pussy wet. Anya stared over at the car, a sporty black number. Definitely a man’s car. “Who is it?”
Warren ducked in and kissed her before he responded. “When we were at Fat Franco’s you rued the lack of shellfish on the menu. You said your favorite meal was lobster thermidor. So I organized someone who’d know how to cook it for you.”
“Stop teasing me.”
Warren nodded in the direction of the house. A man had appeared on the wooden deck that jutted out from the door. Dark-haired and solidly built, he wore a loose-fitting pair of khaki shorts with a faded sleeveless T-shirt and deck shoes. Anya stared.
“Joe’s a chef. He’s also an old friend, and he makes the best lobster thermidor you’ll ever taste, I guarantee it. He owes me some favors, so I asked him to come up here and cook it for you.”
“Joe,” she repeated, as she looked at the man walking over to the car, wondering if a well-prepared lobster meal was the only fantasy Warren intended to realize. The bloke was all polished muscles and tanned skin, and he looked more like a surfer or a male model than a chef.
“I told you, I want to make all your fantasies come true.” He reached across to open her seat belt just as the other guy, Joe, opened her car door from the outside. There wasn’t time to say anything else, but when she caught Warren’s eye, he flickered his eyebrows at her.
Anya barely had time to gather herself before her hand was taken in Joe’s firm, warm grasp as he helped her from the car. She found herself staring into dark brown eyes that held a mischievous look.
“You’re just as sexy as Warren said you were.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. It was a charming gesture, and that—together with his bad-boy stance and the raw sex appeal—made for a dangerously inviting package. Warren appeared at his side, taller and more maverick in his good looks, his eyes filled with secret knowledge.
“Why, thank you,” she responded, “but you have the advantage. I wish Warren had told me about you.” Her eyebrows lifted as she glanced over at Warren.
Warren shrugged. “I thought you might enjoy the surprise.”
Oh, yes, she was enjoying it all right, and so was he. She could tell.
“I’ll get your bags,” Joe said, heading to the back of the car.
“Well, do you find him attractive?” Warren asked under his breath, when Joe moved out of earshot.
“Warren!”
He laughed, and then smacked her bottom playfully.
Direct
wasn’t the word. “One question,” she whispered back, as they followed Joe into the house.
“What?”
“If you told him all about me, does he know…you know?”
“Know what?”
“Stop teasing me, Warren. The other thing.” Her face burned. “The threesome thing.”
Warren chuckled. “No, not at all. I’m sure he’ll be up for it, if you are. The important thing is that you and I trust each other, and that means I’m not going to say anything until I know he fits your…requirements.”
Requirements? Heat washed over her as her arousal grew. She glanced at Joe’s back and the solid muscles that flexed easily as he carried their bags into the house, and any embarrassment she felt was short-lived. This was too enticing. She had to pull herself together—and fast—because she wanted to be ready for whatever happened. “You set this up, didn’t you?”
“I prefer to think that I…made it available for you.”
“How do you know he’d want to, if you haven’t talked to him about it?”
Warren shrugged. “He’s a red-blooded male. He’d be mad to turn down the opportunity to get his hands on a woman like you.” He hauled her in against him, one arm around her shoulders as he whispered in her ear. “If you want him, he’s yours. I think you could handle it. I’d like to see another man hungry for you….”
Anya almost tripped over the doorstep, images flashing through her mind, images of bodies entangled and Warren in charge. He’d lit the fuse inside her, and something deep and irrevocable had flared in response.

“Good?” Joe asked, when she finally put down her fork.
Anya sighed heavily as she finished her meal. “Superb. Easily the best lobster I’ve ever tasted.”
Joe clapped his hands and stood up, stacking the plates. “My work is done.”
“Not quite.” Warren smiled across the table at Anya.
“Warren.” She laughed softly into her wineglass, her face heating. He’d been tightening the circle, as the day passed. After an afternoon spent strolling along the shore to the nearest town for provisions, and the earlier part of the evening cooking together, things were getting more intimate all the time, and that was Warren’s doing. He was definitely in charge, and she liked that.
“Let’s adjourn to the sitting room.” Warren pushed the wine bottle into Joe’s hands to distract him.
Anya rose to her feet, following the two men into the sitting area. It was difficult to drag her thoughts away from Warren’s suggestion. She kept imagining what it would be like to be between them, their hands roaming her body. Her sex tightened and grew damp at the very thought of it. Mercifully, Warren didn’t turn the lights on. Anya knew he was observing her, they both were, and the atmosphere crackled. Joe’s eyes had become increasingly filled with curiosity as he surveyed the pair of them over the course of the evening, as if he knew something was afoot.
Moonlight flooded through the large glass doors that led onto the deck, and the candles from the table in the dining area beyond still burned. It gave a mysterious atmosphere to the occasion. Warren had put a CD on a portable player. The mellow music and the sound of the waves washing up on the shore beyond seemed only to emphasize the feeling of expectation that was building between them.
The place was sparsely furnished, with one sofa and a couple of patio chairs. Joe sat cross-legged on the floor. Warren took one of the patio chairs.
Anya settled onto the sofa with a cushion cradled against her hips and her legs curled under her, anticipation humming beneath her skin. “Warren was right, you’re very talented. Did you always want to be a chef?”
Joe nodded. “I used to compete with both my mother and my grandmother for time in the kitchen. I’m half Italian, and it was hard to muscle in there when the women were in charge.” He winked.
As he chatted on about his beginnings as a chef, Anya studied him. She could see the Italian heritage, despite his London accent. He was a warm, friendly man…easygoing. While he’d prepared their meal, he’d been happy to share his secrets with her in the kitchen. His liberal sense of humor quickly warmed her, and for several moments at a time she almost forgot that Warren was nearby, watchful and predatory. It wasn’t something that could be forgotten for long, though.
“You must be a special woman,” Joe commented. “I’ve known Warren for over ten years and I’ve never been introduced to one of his lady friends before.”
“She is special, very special.” Warren’s eyes were dark and hooded as he spoke. His presence filled the room: powerful, and totally in control.
The very look of him made Anya feel ready for hot sex, let alone the potential setup. Testosterone filled the atmosphere. She was ready.
“You make a great couple,” Joe added casually, before draining his glass.
Warren seemed to tense. “We’re just having some fun here.”
Anya’s fingers tightened on the cushion she held. Was this just about sex games to him? Was that what she was about to find out tonight, that he was attracted to her because of her kinky sex fantasy?
Joe stared at Warren, a disbelieving look of amusement on his face. “You’re kidding me, right? You two are—”
“Joe,” Warren interrupted, “leave it.” He flashed Joe a warning glance, and then stood up and strode quickly across the room, reaching for the wine bottle that Joe had left on the mantel. He topped up their glasses.
Joe watched, and then shrugged. “We’ll see,” he commented, and then looked at Anya with curiosity.
Anya smiled at him, hoping that she didn’t look too wistful. She already cared too much for Warren, and his reaction only confirmed what she felt deep down—that he wasn’t a “couples” kind of man. She’d never seen him in a couple, nor had anyone else at the office. He wasn’t a boyfriend sort, and he’d obviously been attracted to her because he’d heard about the threesome fantasy. Well, she thought, taking a deep breath, whatever the reason for their affair she was going to make the most of it.
The conversation moved back onto safer ground, but she could see curiosity lingered in Joe’s expression. He reached over and changed the CD on the stereo, and then resumed his cross-legged pose on the floor, somewhat nearer to her. It was as if he sensed something was hovering in the atmosphere. It would be hard to miss it.
“So you two work together, that’s how you met?” Joe asked.
Warren nodded. Immediately, Anya sensed the shift in him, as if he were edging closer to his goal.
Joe winked at Anya, and smiled. “It must be hard to get the work done, looking at such a gorgeous woman…wanting her.”
“You nailed it.” A brooding, almost rueful smile passed over Warren’s face.
Anya chuckled. It was like being privy to their male conversation about her: flattering, but somehow dangerous, nonetheless.
Joe’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated a moment and then added another comment. “Don’t you want to touch her, like…all the time?”
Warren nodded and took a deep breath. “Oh, yeah, touch her, kiss her…bend her over her desk and lift her skirt up so I can stroke my hand over the curve of her arse. She has the most gorgeous arse I’ve ever seen.”
Anya’s breath was trapped in her lungs, and she looked from one to the other of them, desire pounding inside her.
Joe ran one hand round the back of his neck. “Jesus, Warren.”
“That need only got worse,” Warren continued, “once I had tasted her.”
Anya was learning so much about his reaction to her, and every word he spoke unleashed another wave of physical need deep at her center.
Warren sighed aloud, before he continued. “Walking into the office is now a liability because I want to hold her and taste her.” He shook his head, eyes locked on hers. “She has the most succulent mouth…. You should try it,” he added.
That was it.
He slipped it in as if it were most natural thing in the world to say, and then he raised his wineglass to his mouth and took a swig.
Joe ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re inviting me to kiss your woman?”
Anya tried not to react, watching them both, fascinated by the negotiation.
“One-time-only offer, I’m only sharing her with you tonight.”
One-time offer, only for tonight
? What did that mean?
Her question faded away fast because Joe had turned to look at her, eyelids lowered and a slight smile playing around that sensuous mouth of his. Apparently he didn’t need to be invited again, because he quickly moved across the floor in her direction on his hands and knees, like a stalking panther in the night.
Anya couldn’t look away from him as he approached, but she felt the weight of Warren’s stare, nonetheless. Anticipation soared inside her. She moved, stretching and unfolding along the length of the sofa she rested on, unable to keep still. Joe knelt in front of her, and touched her with deliberation, pushing the fingers of one hand into her hair as he grasped her around the back of her head. He tipped it back and looked at her. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I would like that.”
A moment passed as he surveyed her face, his free hand resting on her thigh, stroking her, and then he made his move.
Anya felt something inside her lift and rise when she met his kiss. It was the part of her that was indelibly attached to Warren, and it was constantly aware of him and his reactions, even though her womanly center was responding to the man who now kissed her so sensually, making her experience rich and manifold.
His lips were firm, his touch on her thigh inquisitive. His skin felt warm against hers, and the smell of him filled her senses. Soap, cologne…man.
“Would you like to take her to bed?”
At the sound of Warren’s voice, Joe drew back, eyebrows lowered as he considered the question. He didn’t stop looking at Anya, and she felt her mouth curve when he smiled. “Are you kidding? Of course I would.”
“Supervised, of course,” Warren added. “It’s Anya’s fantasy. I want to make it happen for her. You’re the lucky guy.”
Joe stared over his shoulder at his friend for a moment and then nodded, almost to himself, as if he finally understood what had been brewing here.
Anya looked past him at Warren. Her heart was racing, her senses reeling, and she was barely able to keep up with what was happening.
“Anya?” It was Joe. He needed to be sure. “Is this what you want?”
Her pause was brief, because she’d noticed that Warren looked turned on. The bulge at his groin was large, and the look in his hooded eyes had grown possessive. That sent her into overdrive. She nodded, and squeezed Joe’s hand.
Joe stood up and led the way into the bedroom.
Warren followed, and she briefly felt the touch of his hand on the back of her shoulder. All she could think was that she was between two men and they were going to make love to her. Dizzy with arousal and scarcely able to believe that Warren was making this happen, she quickly begged them not to turn the lights on, suddenly self-conscious. “Please don’t, there’s enough light from the window, if you leave the curtains open.”
Warren nodded, and walked across to the window, opening it. The curtains lifted on the night breeze, and the room filled with the scent of the seashore.
The bedroom was sparsely furnished, with a simple futon and a chest of drawers. Joe sat down on the low futon and reached out for her. She looked at Warren, noticing then that his casual shirt was no longer tucked into his jeans and his hair was ruffled and awry. She kissed him, touching his cheek with her palm as she passed. He nodded at her, his body taut with tension.
When she walked over to Joe, he took her hand in his and with his free hand he stroked her leg, moving up her thigh beneath her short skirt. The firm grip of his hand around her thigh sent delicious shivers through her. Her panties were so damp she could feel the slip of material clinging to the groove of her sex. Then his hand was right there and tugging at the line of her panties while he looked up at her.
Warren was at her back, and he reached around and squeezed her breasts from behind. Her head fell back on his shoulder and for a moment her eyelids fluttered closed. Two men were touching her. Her legs felt weak.
Am I dreaming this?
Her thoughts slipped away on the night breeze as he lifted her top and peeled it off, lifting her arms and molding her to his touch as he pulled the fabric over her head and off.
“I’m right here.” He kissed the side of her face.
His presence at her back was solid, a wall of man. She gasped aloud when she felt his erection pressed against her bottom.
He unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, and then he undid her bra. “Look at her beautiful breasts,” he said, and Joe was there, reaching up to outline the nipple of one breast, then the other.
Warren braced her, holding her hands behind her back as if offering her jutting breasts to his friend. Joe suckled her, and it was so heady that her breath was coming fast, her body undulating in Warren’s grip. When he took her wrists in one hand and reached around to fondle her pussy through her panties, she cried out with longing.
“You look so beautiful when you come,” he whispered against her throat.
Her core was pounding, waves of pleasure washing over her.
Warren squeezed her pussy, over and over, as Joe sucked her breasts. She climaxed, sweet and sudden, her head rolling forward as she cried out.
Warren held her steady. Joe looked up, waiting.
“Do you want more?” Warren asked as he bent down and stripped her damp panties down her legs. “Can you take more, lover?”
She was entirely naked, waves of pleasure still washing over her. Her head rolled against his chest when he returned to her back, eyes closing.
“Anya?”
“Yes, yes,” she blurted, “I want to have…both of you.” A rush of embarrassment hit her as she said the words, and yet it made her feel even more horny to have said them aloud.
Warren held her steady, and she heard him whisper to Joe. When she gathered her senses she saw that Joe was lying back on the bed. He’d taken off his T-shirt and he reached out for her. “Come on, gorgeous,” he urged. The muscles of his chest and abs flickered as he reached for her.
“I’m here,” Warren said when she looked back at him, needing to know he was still with her. “And you’re making me harder than I have ever been, Anya.” He gave a disbelieving shake of his head, and a wry smile as his hands stroking her shoulder.
That was all she needed. Empowered, she moved onto her hands and knees and crawled across the bed to straddle Joe’s outstretched body. His hand went to his belt. Increasingly sure in her desire and her actions, her hand followed his, stripping open the leather belt for him and plucking open the buttons on his shorts. His cock bounced free. She gave a soft laugh as she stroked it. “You don’t wear underwear?”
He grinned. “Is that a problem, ma’am?”
“Not at all. In fact it makes things a hell of a lot easier.” She noticed that he seemed to have got over his surprise and taken to his role readily. That easiness helped her, too. Perhaps that’s part of the reason Warren chose him, she thought.
Warren dropped a handful of condom packets onto the bed beside them, and then pressed one into the palm of her hand. She opened it and rolled the rubber onto Joe’s erection. His cock seemed to grow longer still as she cloaked it. Her core clenched, released and clenched again, needing the hard thrust inside her so badly. She moaned as she positioned herself over his prone body, feverish and wildly aroused as she lifted his sheathed cock and guided it to her entrance.
Pausing, she panted for breath.
Warren was at her side, watching, his hands stroking her. He reached around her to tease her breasts, tweaking each puckered nipple, then he stroked down her back to cup her bottom. “Okay, lover?”
“Uh-huh.” Slowly, she lowered herself onto Joe, savoring each sensation as Joe’s hard cock filled her. When she’d sank right down onto him, she paused, then rode him, slowly at first then with more momentum.
Joe swore under his breath, and reached up as far as her breasts, where he teased his fingertips over her nipples. Warren continued to stay close, urging her on as she rose and fell on Joe’s cock. She had both their hands on her, both of them watched her, and it was almost too much, too much sensation as her body sought release.