ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories) (194 page)

              Ian retrieves the brush from the floor.  Either way, nothing matters.  Their friendship is too important now.  Or is it?  Maybe all Ian really needs is a good, long fuck.  His mind drifts to Amanda, the girl Jacky’s going out with tonight.  From how Jacky described her, she sounds like a tasty morsel herself.  The joke that he tossed out to Jacky before he left about all of them playing together has a certain grain of truth to it.  If Amanda hasn’t morphed into the bell ringer of Notre Dame over the years, it could turn into an exciting romp indeed.

              Ian puts brush to easel again and begins to paint.

*              *              *

Amanda licks her lips as she nervously smooths down the red bandage of her dress. She is standing outside the hibachi restaurant that she and Jacky agreed to meet at, and she finds that for the first time in a long time, she’s pretty nervous about the upcoming date.  Twenty-nine isn’t the same as nineteen, certainly, but she thinks she looks pretty good as she checks out her reflection in the storefront of the restaurant.  Red dress, red heels, red lips.  Dressed to play. 

She’s just tossing some of her honey-colored hair behind her shoulder when a voice behind her says, “Stop primping, you look fine.”

Her hand stills and her heart beats faster.  She turns around to face the voice and finds herself delighted.

Jacky, oh Jacky.  You sure did grow up nice.

Combed back brown hair, revealing a large, intelligent forehead, the faintest line of stubble around his jaw.  Straight nose, form solid and wiry beneath his expertly tailored blue suit, every inch the hedge fund manager he is.  Except for those huge green eyes, where the real Jack—no, Jacky—is.  That part hasn’t changed.  Even though now, he dwarfs her even in her heels, and he’s so compactly built that the first impulse Amanda has is to snake her arm around his waist, press close, and breath in the smell of him.

Jacky breaks out into an impish smile, startling her out of her horny little reverie.  God, he looks good.

“Just fine?  Is that any way to greet an old friend?” she tosses back at him roguishly. 

He leans back and rinks her in from head to toe, in a way so appreciative that she blushes.  She hasn’t done that in years, not even with this last boyfriend.  But she shakes him out of her mind; tonight is a new night, and there is no room for past mistakes in it.  She peeks at Jacky again from the corner of her eye.  Maybe it’s a night for new ones.

Jack takes a small bow.  “A thousand pardons, my lady.  You happen to look incredibly hot.”

Amanda laughs aloud.  “Well, it’s nice to see you haven’t changed at all, baby Jacky,” she says as they head towards the door of the restaurant.

“How so?” he wrinkles his nose in confusion as he holds the door open for her.

“You never had a filter to begin with.”  And now there’s a cute sarcastic edge to it that lends Jack a sex appeal he had no way of having ten years ago.  Cocky little bastard, but she’d be damned if she didn’t say she found it appealing as hell.

One hour and two steak courses later, they’re laughing like old pals. 
Jack’s grown up to be quite a guy
, thinks Amanda as she knocks back some of her red wine, fingers twining around the stem of her glass.  She notices that when she licks her lips, Jack’s eyes stray there.  She toys with the idea that this night could take a most interesting turn. 

“So, what happened after college?” she asks, reaching her hand halfway across the table casually, stretching her body just a little bit closer to his.

“Well, I moved out of my parent’s house, obviously.  I’m living with my friend Ian now.  He makes a living doing commissioned paintings for clients.  Not gonna lie, I’m pretty jealous that he’s a ton more creative than I am.  He’s a good guy, though.  Except for when he gets all the ladies.”  Jack’s tone is light, teasing.

Amanda smiles as she begins to lightly stroke the back of his hand with her index finger, a movement so light and unassuming that Jack almost doesn’t seem to notice its’ there.  “Oh, I’m sure you do plenty fine for yourself.  Are you seeing anyone now?”

It’s Jacky’s turn to blush, something that takes Amanda by surprise.  “The last two relationships I had didn’t end too well.  Seems like there’s something I’m missing so that women are happy with just being with me.”

Something in his voice tugs at Amanda’s heart strings.  “I know what that’s like,” she says sympathetically.

After a moment of silence, Jack clears his throat.  He glances up shyly at her.  “Besides, I’ve had this thing recently; I think I’m developing a type.”

“What type is that?”

“Sexy older women who used to babysit me.”

The statement is so bald in its arrogance that Amanda almost doesn’t know quite how to take it.  One glace at Jacky’s hopeful green eyes is enough to soothe any doubts she has, however.  His body has moved incrementally towards hers and now he has softly intertwined his fingers with hers.  He is asking a question without using a single question word.  Amanda glances down at his hand, large and beautiful, holding hers almost reverentially.

“You’re in luck,” she tells him, squeezing his hand a little.  “One of that type has just become available.”

*              *              *

Jacky’s heart is thumping so loudly against his ribs he’s pretty sure that not only can Amanda hear it, but he’s about to resemble the cartoon Pepe LePew, with his love organ beating visibly out of his chest.

Well.  One of his love organs.

Is he hallucinating, or has Amanda just admitted she’s attracted to him?  The sexy babysitter of his dreams, the girl who has been haunting every fantasy he’s ever had for the past ten years, has just given him an unspoken yes?

Someone somewhere is smiling down on him.

“I was telling Ian about you tonight,” he says to her.

“Oh?” one of her beautifully shaped eyebrows arches.  “What did he say?”

“He said if you’re as hot as I made you out to be, all three of us should have some fun tonight.”  Jack looks away for a moment, then looks her in the eye.  “He’s a sleaze.”

He sees her mulling something over in her head, kneading a thought and watches it emerge.  “Might be fun,” she says softly, and uncrosses her legs beneath the table.

Jacky swallows hard.  “What?”

One of her long, lean legs encased in red strappy sandals brushes against his ankle.  Mistake?  She just smiles at him, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

“Your friend, is he good-looking?”

“Ian?  Yeah, I guess.”

Jacky catches himself on the thought that he’s lying.  He guesses nothing.  He remembers, quite clearly, a night not too many years ago when he found himself lost in the caring expression of Ian’s eyes.  He remembers vividly the feeling of the sloppy drunk kisses that inflamed his skin when he and Ian went tumbling over in Ian’s dorm bed, and the low curve of his shoulders as he, Jack, promised to revisit what they started.  He recalls the building excitement as his best friend stroked his cock, pleasure he never imagined he could feel sharpened by the knowledge that this person cared about him.

Was it time to open this case up again?

Jacky frowns.  He isn’t a guy’s guy, strictly speaking, but the thought of Ian’s almond eyes closed in pleasure is enough to almost make him groan aloud.  So is the sensation of Amanda’s foot trailing a careful, delicate path up the inside of his leg, coming to rest momentarily on his thigh.  As she moves her foot gently back and forth, Jack feels a swelling in his crotch that erases the years that have passed.  He suddenly can’t stop staring at the swell of her breasts against that damn red dress and is as horny as a teenager.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing her foot and calling for the check.

*              *              *

It’s around eleven P.M. when Jacky’s car finally pulls into the drive.  Ian puts away his brush and easel, not bothering to change out of his work clothes.  If they’re not happy with his paint-spattered work jeans, so be it.  He hears a key turn in the door; seconds later, Jacky is coming into the apartment with a woman who Ian would gently describe as sex on heels.

Ian nods approvingly to himself from his vantage point in the doorframe of the kitchen.  Jacky has good taste.  Ian’s eyes travel up the long legs, the generous hips, and the big, round breasts that are all but spilling out of the red crisscross neckline of her dress.  Dark blond hair trails over her shoulders and the look in her eyes talks about experience Ian can only dream about.

“Ian, Amanda.  Amanda, Ian.”

Amanda breaks out in a smile that lets Ian understand why Jacky liked her to begin with.  She’s nice, this woman, with a little hint of naughty to her.  Jacky’s text of “Coming home with Amanda” might have been cryptic, but a small taste of what’s in store is becoming rapidly clear to Ian as he shakes Amanda’s hand and sits her down on the couch.

“Jacky, come help me with the drinks,” he calls out to his friend.

Jacky comes into the kitchen, bouncy as a puppy.  “What’s up, man?”

Ian is pouring more wine into glasses.  “What’s going on here?”

A wide grin splits Jacky’s face nearly in two.  “Ever wanted a threesome?”

The bottle bangs down on the marble tabletop.  “Are you kidding me?”

The brow above Jacky’s green eyes furrows.  He looks genuinely confused.  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

A wave of emotions is coming over Ian; he doesn’t even know how to respond, at first.  They never spoke about what happened between them, not for years, and suddenly now, Jack is willing to jump into bed with him and some girl Ian doesn’t even know?  At the same time, Jack is saying that he wants to… with him?  Rage and hope and years of pent-up desire are pounding over him, and he tries to sort them out.  What to deal with first?  What to ask?  How do you even answer that question?

“Of course I have.  I just never imagined having one with you,” Ian finally says, folding his arms across his bare chest and leaning his lower back against the countertop.  He feels suddenly defensive, and his body language bespeaks it.

Jack takes a step back.  “Oh,” he says slowly, as if ingesting that comment is difficult for him.  “I just thought that after that night in college…”

Ian’s heart takes a giant leap. And he inadvertently takes a step away from the counter towards Jack, dear lovely Jacky who looks so hurt that he can hardly stand it.  “You remember that?” Ian asks softly, taking one of his hands in his, loving the way his paint-spattered fingers look against Jacky’s smooth skin.

Jack is looking at the floor and skimming it with the toe of one shoe.  He looks so young, so shy that Ian is filled with tenderness.  “Of course I remember it.  You were there for me at my lowest time.  I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe again.”  They’re standing almost chest to chest now, and Ian wonders if Jack can smell the paint on him, the green he used to paint his eyes. 

“You’re always safe with me,” he says softly, grazing Jacky’s forehead with his lips.  “But… is that all you felt that night?  Safe with a friend?”

Jack tilts his face up and Ian is caught off guard by the look of intensity there.  He puts one hand to Ian’s chest and says, “I wanted you then.”

Ian’s heart thumps painfully.

“And I want you now.” 

Ian doesn’t even have time to blink before Jack’s lips are on his, and it’s all hurtling backwards through time again.  Those lips, those soft lips tasting of alcohol and lust, and that tongue, thrusting into his mouth, teasing him, skipping along his teeth light as a girl, until it’s all Ian can do to keep from crushing him against his chest.

They’re holding each other’s faces, stumbling around the kitchen, forgotten to the world around them.  Ian bites Jack’s lip gently, and suddenly, they’re looking into each other’s eyes and gasping.

“I want you, too,” says Ian, and closes his eyes to kiss him again. 

And it starts a new, that crazy dance around the kitchen, Ian pushing Jack down onto a chair and straddling him, running his fingers roughly through his hair, feeling the full breadth of his thighs, little sweet sexy Jacky, welcoming him in this new way.

“I see you boys started without me,” drawls a female voice from over by the door.

They break away from each other to find Amanda leaning against the doorframe, an amused smile playing around her lips.  Jacky and Ian are frozen, unsure of where to proceed from here.  Sensing this, Amanda saunters over to their chair and leans over until her face is in between their bodies.  “Far be it from me to deny you boys your fun,” she says, and steps away to hop up on the kitchen counter.

Ian looks at Jack, and Jack looks at Ian.  Slowly, their lips meet again, except now, Jacky is running his hands down Ian’s bare back, feeling the smooth ripple of his muscle below his fingers.  Ian tilts down until he’s got Jacky’s earlobe in his mouth, and, cloaking his teeth with his lips, he pulls.

Jacky moans, eyes squeezed shut.

Ian bites down.

Jacky’s breath is coming rushed and fast, the sounds from his throat ragged and raw.  Ian wrests off his tie, unbuttons that hedge fund boy’s shirt, and tosses both somewhere behind Jacky deep into the kitchen.  He kisses Jacky on the neck, where he smells like clean sweat and cologne, tips down to his collarbone, and sinks to his knees to enclose one of Jacky’s nipples in his mouth.  Jack is gripping the edges of the chair with his fingers as Ian worries the nub first with his lips, then with his teeth.