Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (134 page)

Chapter 5

Susie and I were laying out on the veranda in just our towels when Brian approached us.

“I need to talk to you girls. Now.” He had bass in his voice, and despite myself, I was intimidated. The financial opportunity he was offering was something I didn’t want to ruin. Also, though my recent actions might have shown otherwise, I was finding myself more and more attracted to him. Years of telling myself I didn’t need a man and then Brian—one who has his shit together, one who is intelligent and ambitious, one who looks good—comes along and has me second-guessing.

He must have seen us in the hot tub.

Trailing behind me as I followed Brian into the house, Susie looked like a punished puppy. I worried that her sexual awakening may come to an abrupt close if someone were to rub her nose in it, as it were. Within 48 hours, she had gone from a virgin afraid of her own vulva to a video-hoe having group sex in a rapper’s hot tub.
That kind of acceleration can’t be sustainable
, I thought.

Brian led us into a well-furnished video-editing room with multiple HD screens and a couple couches. He sat in an office chair in front of the monitors, and we moved to sit on one of the couches.

“You’re wet,” he said. “You can’t sit on those. Give me your towels, and just stand where you are. I don’t need you dripping all over.” We both cast our eyes down as we peeled off our towels, returning to nakedness. I couldn’t help but notice that Suze’s nipples were firm. She was shivering, either out of cold or nervousness. I moved to put my arm around her.

Saying nothing more, Brian started the video. It was definitely the four of us in the hot tub. It was perfectly framed and even had sound. Was it a set up? I moved from guilt to resentment at having been tricked. The more I watched, though, the more the feelings from the hot tub returned to me. I found myself feeling very sexy again. It didn’t hurt that I was getting a better look at my naked body, from more angles, than I ever had. As odd as it might sound, I was turned on looking at myself. The others looked amazing too. I wasn’t sure what BoneZone’s angle was here. In an effort to be sure Susie was doing OK, and also to feed the urges I was experiencing, I moved my hand from her shoulder to her ass and gave it a meaningful squeeze. She returned the favor. She was OK after all. More than OK.

“I knew I chose well when I talked to you, Kara. We wanted this video to cause controversy, right ladies? This is going to be on every celebrity news blog when it ‘leaks.’ My video, my song, both are going to be famous before we even release them. As for you two: if you want it, this can be a career-making move for you both. It happened for Paris. It happened for Kim. It can happen for both of you. All I have to do is include your names in the leak. My offer remains: I’ll pay for school, for both of you. However, this leak means that you both are going to be famous, overnight if things go as planned. Do you want that? Are you prepared for that?”

Two simultaneous butt squeezes indicated our interest to one another before we both nodded enthusiastically, stifling giggles of excitement.

“I’m glad you’re on board. We only need one more shot to seal the deal. Nobody knows you two yet, and my boys are only famous because I am. You know what you have to do.” I had been hoping our conversation would lead this way. I suspected it would when I noticed the growing tent in his shorts ever since he started showing us the video. Wasting no time, as if we’d planned it, Susie and I both moved to our knees and began kissing the warm, pronounced bulge Brian was sporting. With one hand on each of our heads, he ran his fingers through our hair while we undid his belt and zipper.

His plum of a head was already peeking through his boxers when we pulled his shorts down, hinting at the beautiful cock that lay beneath. Disrobing him from the waist down, we marveled at his mouth-watering cock as he took off the rest of his gear. His dick seemed sculpted, the perfect size and thickness, with gorgeous veins running around like spiral staircases. His purple head throbbed with his pulse, blushing with heat in sync with my own pulsing pussy, which I lay over his face at his beckoning. He got to work immediately, lapping at my moist lips while he held his camera phone in one hand, alternating between focusing on the wonderful work he was doing and on Miss Tai. She was starting the enviable job of licking his magnificent shaft, which was already glistening with precum.

I sat on Brian’s handsome face, facing Susie and huffing with pleasure as he ran his tongue through the crevices of my pussy lips and asshole. It got me hot to watch Susie go to work on his fat dick. I could feel my juices getting all over Brian’s face as he slurped greedily on my clit.

Suze eventually let the ache in her pussy do the talking, and she held his cock against his stomach. She slid her clit along the length of it several times, building her own desire. She finally righted his manhood and slid, gradually, down until she managed to fit him all inside. The satisfaction on her face spoke volumes as Brian moaned with pleasure into my bush. She slowly rode his fat dick while he continued making me feel like a woman. I sucked on Susie’s perky chocolate nipples. My tongue flicking combined with the pressures of his cock on all of her most sensitive spots put Susie over the edge fast, and she picked up her pace, bouncing feverishly before collapsing into my arms, whispering, “You’ve got to try that.”

Recognizing that Susie’s pussy was too sensitive for direct stimulation, Brian opted to eat her ass while I maneuvered his glorious shaft into my love hole. He stretched my walls and, handing Susie the phone, grabbed my fat ass with both hands. He smacked it and spread my cheeks. I could feel my asshole wink with joy with each thrust he made. Suze sucked on my tits and ran fingers in circles around my clit as I bounced on Brian’s rod. Even though his face was happily buried in Susie’s lovely ass, I could tell by his breathing and contortions that he was resisting the urge to blow his load. It had obviously been growing and building until it was almost too much to bear. The video of our foursome was on loop in the background. The image of Mac and Pablo busting on our faces joined forces with Brian’s swelling, throbbing cock to push me past my limit. I shouted as my pelvic muscles flexed rhythmically, squeezing BoneZone’s shaft, milking it, urging it to let loose.

Instead he pulled out, and Suze and I instinctively moved to his bulging dick, kissing and sucking his slick head. We took turns bringing the tip into our mouths and licking his shaft. We kissed each other with his cock in between, running our tongues all around the crown of his dick, imploring his balls to be generous. His toes curled and his hips shook as he erupted, finally, and blasted his load into our kissing mouths. We kissed and licked as his come coated our lips and dripped down our chins. We finally moved to kissing his still-pulsing cock, and then his chest, before we all finished, panting in a three-way embrace.

Chapter 6

In December, after performing for months at any BoneZone concert that didn’t interfere with my school schedule, I received a text from Brian. He had received Grammy nominations for Best Rap Song and Best Music Video. While I knew the song was nominated on its own merits, I liked to think that Susie and I had something to do with the video’s acclaim. I’m sure that the publicity we all received from the “leak” at least put it on the radar of the judges, not to mention earning us daily interview requests and magazine cover offers. Suze (Miss Tai to the public) and I agreed that school was still a priority, even if it was just something to fall back on, as it was for Brian. For the time being, though, we were soaking up the limelight and enjoying the attention we learned to love when working at the club.

The day after Brian’s text, Susie and I received official invitations to the Grammy awards. For a couple women famous for being naked, the only problem was figuring out what to wear on the red carpet.

THE END

“What about Lady Marcosa? I hear that divorce has almost been settled.” The guffaws of laughter following the statement were a testament to the divorce that had been ‘almost settled’ for the greater part of a decade.

              Grayson Dawkins, the Duke of Hayward did not appreciate his friends belittling the fact that he
did
have to marry, and in just under a fortnight now. He had wasted the first two weeks by trying to circumvent the atrocity that he would now have to commit – marriage.

              Grayson (or Hayward, as almost everyone in this world referred to him as since he had obtained the distinguished title) was part of a business venture in the newfound steam engine business. As was the case in most aspects of his life, he never did things half way. He believed in the cause and the product that would eventually become a household reference. However, not everyone believed in the same cause, or at least, not to that extreme. Because of such doubters, the other two partners in the venture had reason to suspect that his interest was fleeting and that his cash flow was not dependable, especially as a single man of his thirty-three years.

              “What about the Earl of Treal’s niece? Isn’t she coming of age soon?” Christoph Maclan, the second son of the Duke of Windsor, retorted. The already-laughing group started to chortle with a glee that did not impress Grayson.
Idiots, the lot of them
, his subconscious grumbled.

              “She’s nigh on ten years now, and you know that, Maclan.” Grayson’s low- toned baritone rumbled threateningly.

              To be fair, had this been any other of his friends he would’ve joined right in. However, this was not a
request
made by his partners, but rather a demand. A single male was fickle until settled in the shackles of marriage. Add to that his impressive title, and it was indeed suspicious that he had not claimed a women to be his duchess.

              Truth be told, his parents had a cold marriage and he had wanted no part of that. Understanding that, at some point, he’d have to lay claim to a woman, he had put that off for years successfully. Until now.

              He heard his ‘friends’ referring to Simon Baker, a retired court jester that had a known preference of the
male variety
, and decided he’d had enough.

              “Out,” he ordered. He shoved their shoulders in the direction of the door.

              Christoph quipped back with half his body shoved out the heavy wood slab, “They never said whether it needed to be a lady, Hayward. I’ve got a rather attractive chamber maid looking for…
new opportunities
.”

              Hearing the laughing continue down the street, he shoved the door closed and threw the latch across. His butler, Herron, was standing by as usual.

              “I’m not home, Herron,” he commanded.

              The stoic white-haired butler simply inclined his head and resumed his position. It was good to have people that actually listened to you. There were too few of those in his group of friends, regardless of his lofty title.

              Headed back towards his study, he recalled Christoph’s words. The man was an imbecile, but he did have a point. His partners had not specified who his wife should be, or even her station in life. They had only cared about his status as a bachelor and a rake.

              Luckily his father has passed on years ago, otherwise he’d be having an apoplexy at the thought of marriage in the family to someone without an adequate bloodline. Grayson didn’t care himself what station his wife would be, but he did have a reputation to uphold. There were be parties and children, and he had to consider someone who would make at least somewhat of a respectable duchess.

              That being said, Grayson was desperate. If he found a strong, normal, reasonably attractive woman that just happened to not be royalty or a highborn lady, he knew that it was worth the chance.

              He sat heavily down in his worn, brown leather chair and reached for the invitations for this evening. There was a ball at Lady Acalade’s, but that usually included an ‘impromptu’ musicale that deafened his ears for the next three days. There was an intimate gather at the Chancellor Jones’, but he was not in the mood to talk politics and reformation.

              The last invitation in his stack was to the Count Rutherford’s soiree. Notably garish and forward, the Count had not made a vast number of true friends in his time here in England, but he was known for throwing incredible parties.

             
With a good number of eligible women
, he reminded himself. There would be shortage of attractive females ripe for the picking.

              “Herron,” he bellowed. When the aged butler appeared in the doorway with a questioning brow, he ordered, “Get Taylor to set out my gray and red. I have a dinner party to attend.”

              Herron disappeared with a click of the heels and Grayson sat back to contemplate his plan of attack.

***

“Greer, you can’t be serious. It’s Rutherford’s
soiree
. They’ll be music and dancing and plenty of men,” Greer’s sister, Addy, giggled.             

              She sighed. “Addy, I love you. But sometimes you have a head full of cotton. Father would never let us go even if I wanted to.”

              “He would,” Addy whined, “if only you asked him to. You know he does anything you want when you set your mind to it!”

              She had a point. Greer Maxwell was her father’s favorite daughter. The Viscount Sutherland did not make any hesitation conceding to that point, regardless of the fact that he had four daughters. Greer always thought it was because he saw parts of himself in her. Their mother was a timid, insipid sort who had always been respectable. Her father was a boisterous, contagious sort of man that infected the very air he walked into with exuberance.

              Greer wouldn’t go so far as to compare herself with that, but she did have a habit of getting herself into trouble with her need for excitement and adventure.

              She thought again about the Count’s invitation. She had only been around him on two occasions, and while he had professed her beauty and poise, she had never had any cause to consider him an actual suitor. She was not fond of rakes. On her very first season, she had fallen for a blond haired charmer who had convinced her that she was his moon and stars, and that she should run away with him and get married. Her father had not approved the match, and when she had regrettably turned Richard down, it had turned ugly. It became suddenly clear that Richard had only been after her dowry, and had tried to circumvent her father by trying to convince her to steal away with him and marry.

              After that season, her second and third seasons had gone remarkably better. She had turned down seven proposals this last year, and would continue to do so until either her father required her to marry, or until she found someone that was worth accepting. To date, all the men that had proposed were either rakes, or of
questionable moral character
.

              She refused to marry a gambler or a wastrel, or a womanizer. And so far, that’s all the men that had proposed to her. She mentally sighed. Maybe she would meet that someone tonight. She absolutely wanted to move out of her father’s house and start to run her own household. She longed for a sweet baby in her arms, and a husband to support and shoulder her.

              Addy brought her out of her reverie with a tug on her arm. “So, can we go? Please!”

              Giving up, Greer accepted. “All right, but we’re going to visit his mother, Diana. No other reason than that.”

              Addy squealed and started to pull dresses off their velvet hangers. “Not this one. Too green. Too many ribbons. Too short. Too last season. Too…”

              Her voice trailed off and Greer started to wonder what she would wear. She settled on the lavender dress with the cream pinafore. She had commissioned it several months ago and had not had the occasion to wear it yet, since it was richly embroidered and far too formal to wear to a regular supper party.

              “Violet,” she called to her maid. “Can you air out the lavender and cream that we got from Madame Susa? And can you work some magic into this hair of mine?”

              It was bound to be a long night.

              Grayson pulled up in the carriage as close to the front door as he could get with all the waiting carriages of the guests already inside. It seemed like the Count had outdone himself. He could hear the symphony of eloquent music even from the exterior of the large brick home.

              He made his way inside, giving the appropriate greetings and inquiring as to the whereabouts of the Count to give his sentiments.

              Finding his way to Rutherford’s private chambers, he was not surprised to see him seated with not one but two women on his lap. Both were dressed provocatively and were clearly not ladies. At least not ladies of the
day
variety.

              “Rutherford,” he nodded, shaking his free hand. “Many thanks for the invite. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of being inside the home before. It suits you.”

              The Count chuckled. “Hayward. Always the stickler for manners. It’s a wonder how you get the ladies that you do with such a strict countenance.”             

              Grayson’s hackles raised. “Yes, not all of us can flounce from one party to the next with no form of respectability or responsibility.”

              Immediately sensing that he had just formed an enemy, Grayson still refused to back down. “Anyway, thank you for the invite. I believe I’ll show myself out.”

              Without waiting for a response, he headed back out the lavishly painted door he had walked into seconds prior. On his way out of the gold brocaded hallway, he just caught the twirl of a skirt headed into the ballroom. Before his brain had even formed a reason why, he was following her into the crush of the dancehall, anxious to catch of glimpse of her.

              He found her with her back to him, laughing with a group of what had to be prospective suitors. They were all young, younger than him. He recognized a few of them around the ton – second sons and the like. None were a match for her, even without him seeing her face.

              She was taller than the average woman, and much curvier. Whereas the current trend was reed slim and willowy, she was voluptuous and gorgeous. Tiny waist and rounded bottom that made his hands itch to palm it.

              He had stepped closer in his inquiry, and hauled himself to a stop just a few feet from her. He wanted her to speak, but she had her head tipped in attention to one of the young bucks that was telling no doubt a horrendously boring story.

              Her skin was perfect – golden and clear. A tendril of curled blonde hair rested on her exposed neck. He thought he could even smell her, although that was a bit of a stretch. The heavily perfumed bodies surrounding them were pungent and strong. Hers was a crisp smell, of apples that had yet to fall from the tree and lavender still on the branch.

              When a group next to him burst out in laughter over something likely offensive, he finally gained clarity. He had to leave. He had been walking out when the sight of her had bewildered and seduced him.

              With a sharp turn, he headed back out the doors he had just come from and out the front door. He called for his carriage and climbed in as soon as it pulled to the front. Craving the peace and quiet of his own home, he rapped sharply on the roof to indicate he was ready to leave.

***