Playing with Piper (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing for Love Book 3) (18 page)

Wyatt’s eyes blaze with heat. “I think that you should give Owen a blow job.”

A smile breaks out on my face. “Well,” I say, drawing the word out, “I
do
owe Owen a blow job. After all, Wyatt got one on Sunday. We have to keep things fair.”

Owen groans. “Piper,” he says, his voice hoarse, “you are going to be the death of me.” He moves so he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and I sink to my knees on the floor. I run my fingernails over his thighs, and am rewarded by his sharp inhale of breath. His eyes squeeze shut, and he throws his head back as I wrap my fingers around his length and close my mouth over him.

My tongue swirls over his head, licking him and teasing him, before I relent and bob my head up and down over his shaft. I’m captivated by the way his dick feels in my mouth, by the way it twitches when I take him deeper down my throat. As I suck, I let my hand run over his chest, feeling his muscles, tugging him closer to me. “Fuck, Piper,” Owen bites out, pulling away with a wild look in his eyes. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

He lifts me onto the bed and positions me on my hands and knees. “Wyatt, you’ve got to get in here.”

Wyatt nods in agreement. “Do you want me in your pussy, Piper?” The tone of his voice sends desire strumming through my body. “That butt plug is already in your ass. Are you ready to be filled completely?”

Owen positions himself at my mouth. Instinctively, I part my lips for him. The mattress dips as Wyatt climbs on the bed, and moves behind me. His fingers play with my folds. “So wet, Piper.” A condom wrapper tears and he rubs his cock up and down my cleft, causing prickles of heat to radiate from me until I’m convinced I’m going to combust from sheer anticipation.
Hurry it up, Wyatt. I need you now.

His hands grip at my hips, and he thrusts inside me in one long stroke.

Oh my God.
I thought Sunday night was amazing. But this? Wyatt’s shaft and the butt plug? This is intense and overwhelming, and I’m about to burn with pleasure.

“Please,” I sob into Owen’s cock, my hands clenching around Wyatt’s cotton sheets.

Wyatt stills. “Are you okay, baby?” he asks with concern. “Is it too much?”

I shake my head. “Don’t stop,” I beg, blood pounding in my head, aching need clawing through my core. “So good.”

His strokes resume, forceful and deep. I tremble and moan as I’m filled more completely than I’ve ever been filled in my life. His fingers twist the butt plug as he moves within me, and that adds another sharp layer of lust to my pleasure.

My insides twist, and my muscles contract around his cock. “Fuck,” he moans. “You are so tight, Piper. You feel so good.”

He pulls out and throws himself on the bed, pulling me on top of him. “Ride me,” he orders, his voice hoarse. “I want to see your face.”

I lower myself slowly on Wyatt’s dick, gasping at the way my muscles stretch to accommodate him. Wyatt’s hands close over my breasts, squeezing them, rolling my nipples between his fingers as I ride him. Owen repositions himself behind me, his hand grasping the butt plug. “As you ride Wyatt,” he says, “I’m going to thrust this butt plug in and out of you.”

He’s true to his promise. As I bounce on Wyatt’s hard dick, Owen teases the butt plug in and out. Sensation assaults me and I’m a whimpering mess, overwhelmed by the raw heat that’s radiating through my body.

I’m ready. I’m not nervous anymore. I trust Owen and Wyatt to make it good for me. “Please,” I beg. “I want both of you.”

Owen groans. He removes the butt plug from my ass, and he trickles some lube down my crack. Wyatt pulls me forward so I’m lying down on top of his hard chest. “We’re going to take it very slow,” he promises. “We’re going to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.” His mouth meets mine in a tender kiss.

My heart squeezes at the caring in his voice. “I’m not afraid,” I tell him.

I’m lying. I’m not afraid of anal sex, but I am afraid of the future. I’m not Bailey or Gabriella, steadfast in their convictions. My parents have always been able to bully me into what they want, and they’re going to be horrified if they find out what I’m doing.

Owen’s fingers trace the ridge of my spine, and he pushes one finger into my ass. “Relax,” he soothes. “The plug is much thicker than my finger.”

“But not your cock.” I bite my lip. Maybe I am a little nervous after all.

Wyatt moves his hand to my pussy. His fingers trace soft circles around my clitoris. “You’re so beautiful,” he says warmly as Owen adds another finger. “When I saw you tonight with the plug, I was so turned on.” He trails kisses down my shoulder. “Did you think of us when you bought the toys?”

My cheeks heat. “Maybe,” I mutter.

As Wyatt’s words distract me, Owen adds a third finger. I feel a surge of slick, wet heat at his touch. “This feels great,” he rasps.

“Piper,” Wyatt groans, “you are so wet. You like this, don’t you? Such a good girl in public, and so naughty in private.”

I blush at his words. I’m really enjoying my walk on the wild side.

Wyatt’s thumb moves faster over my clitoris, as Owen thrusts his fingers in and out of me. I’m dangerously close to another orgasm. “I’m going to come,” I choke out.

“Good,” Wyatt purrs, strumming faster on my tight bundle of nerves. My muscles clench and tighten. I grip Wyatt’s shoulders as I near my release. “Come for us, Piper,” he whispers.  

My climax rushes toward me in a thunderous, explosive wave. When it hits, I scream and erupt, twisting and flailing in Wyatt’s arms. Owen pulls his fingers out. My muscles are still quivering when I hear the condom wrapper tear. “I’m using plenty of lube,” Owen says, his voice reassuring. “Trust me.”

I’m still feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm as Owen’s cock pushes into me. I inhale sharply as he enters my ass, and I clench my fingers into a fist as I feel my muscles stretch to accommodate his thickness. Owen strokes my back and Wyatt kisses my lips. Feeling me relax, Owen slides in further, deeper. “You are so tight, Piper.”

He pushes deeper, until his entire length is in me. As he pulls out to thrust again, it strikes me that they’re both in me. Wyatt’s thick cock is buried in my pussy. Owen’s hard shaft is stroking in and out of my ass. I’m sandwiched between their bodies. It’s wrong and kinky and very naughty,
and I love it.

“This is so incredible,” I breathe.

They groan and pick up the pace. “Touch yourself,” Wyatt commands me. “I want you to come again.”

I don’t need to be asked to come. I’ve been on the verge of release ever since Owen took my ass. I move my hand down to my clitoris, and pet myself, soft teasing strokes that make me shiver.

They coordinate their thrusts now, both pulling out of me, leaving me feeling empty, then thrusting in unison. I’m filled,
so filled,
that even though I want to prolong my orgasm, I can’t. I explode between them, almost sobbing with the intensity of my climax.

They aren’t too far behind. Owen’s fingers dig into my hips and Wyatt’s hands tighten on my waist, and within seconds of each other, they both find their release.

We stay huddled together in one sated, exhausted heap. Their bodies bracket me and warm me, and I never want to leave.

My mother’s voice, banished during sex, makes an unpleasant return to my head.
This is not the behavior I expect from you, Piper.
She sounds both disappointed and disapproving.

I don’t care,
I retort defiantly.

But I’m not sure that’s true. I don’t think what the three of us are doing is a one-night stand. It has the potential to become a real relationship.

And if my parents find out, they’ll go ballistic.

30

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

William Blake

Piper:

M
y hopes
of a relaxed breakfast are dashed when I wake up, because the first thing I remember is Kevin’s revelation. I groan, get out of bed, and wander to the kitchen. I’m not looking forward to telling Wyatt and Owen last night’s news.

Sun is streaming into the room. PBS is on the radio. Owen’s cooking breakfast and Wyatt’s sitting at the table, reading the paper. “Kevin told me something last night that I thought you guys should hear,” I say, coming into the room.

They look up. “Good morning,” Wyatt says with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“No.” I can’t stop a silly grin from breaking out on my face. “A couple of really hot guys kept me awake all night.”

“Really?” Owen’s lips twitch. He pours me a cup of coffee, and adds milk and sugar. I give him a grateful smile as he pushes it in front of me. “That sounds terrible.”

I laugh. “Are you kidding? It was great. I can’t wait to do it again.”

“Good.” Wyatt sounds satisfied. “You started saying something about Kevin.”

I make a face. “You know we had a crisis in the kitchen at the start, when the gravy was too salty?” I ask Wyatt. Owen knows all about it, of course, because he was in the kitchen with me, but I’m not sure if Wyatt is aware of the details.

He nods. “That was the reason you made the cauliflower sauce, right? As a substitute?”

“Yeah. It was going to take about fifteen minutes to get another batch of gravy made, and we had orders queuing up. I couldn’t fall behind.” I run my hands through my hair. “I thought Josef messed up the gravy because he’d been drinking, but last night, Kevin told me he’d tasted it after Josef left. He said it was perfect.”

They both look up at that. “He’s sure?” Owen asks, his voice sharp.

I sigh. “He swore that he was.” Josef screwing up under the influence is annoying but benign. Somebody deliberately salting my gravy in order to throw me off is far more sinister.

Wyatt frowns. “Somebody sabotaged your gravy?” His voice shimmers with tightly controlled anger.

“That’s what it looks like,” I reply moodily. “I didn’t want to tell you last night.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Owen replies. He comes up to me and wraps his arms around me in a comforting hug. “Last night was very special.”

Wyatt nods in agreement, but his attention quickly returns to the gravy incident. “Who could it be?” he asks. “Who was in the kitchen last night?”

“Everyone,” I reply. “The two camera guys. Kimmie. Petra. You. Me. Kevin. Josef. Owen. My mother. The kitchen was party central last night.”

“Kimmie,” Owen says flatly. “She was in a snit because I told her I’d fire her if she didn’t stop chewing gum.”

Wyatt looks skeptical. “You think she sabotaged the gravy as a result? I can’t see it. She’s got to be the best paid waitress in Manhattan. If we caught her, she has no reason to think she won’t be fired.”

“You’re being rational,” I tell him, sipping my coffee. “Not everyone is as logical as you. If she was pissed off, then she could have salted the gravy in a huff.”

“Okay,” he concedes. “Kimmie’s a suspect. But you’re forgetting someone else.”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

My head snaps up in shock. “You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” he says, his tone gentle. “But think about it. Your parents have never been happy about your decision to be a chef. They ensured you were late for your meeting with us. You even thought they were responsible for the Grant and Thornton audits.”

“And I was wrong. Josh Lewis said it was Colton who’d asked for the audit.”

“What if Josh Lewis is wrong?”

I glare at Wyatt. I can’t believe his accusation. Owen steps into the fray, clearing his throat. “Here’s what I see, Piper. Your parents have never taken any interest in your career. All of a sudden, when you’re on the cusp of making it, they fly up to support you? Your mother offers to play hostess? Doesn’t this strike you as suspicious?”

“No,” I say stubbornly. I’m not going to listen to this. I know my parents haven’t cared for my choice of career, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to actively mess up my chances of winning this contest. “You’re wrong. My mother did not salt the gravy.”

The two of them exchange glances. “Okay,” Wyatt says. “As a precaution, we should probably get security cameras installed in the kitchen.”

“Fine.” I fold my arms around myself and don’t look at them. I’m seething with rage. Several angry thoughts chase each other in my head, and I can’t keep them contained. “You want to know what I think?” I snap at Wyatt. “You’re upset that your dad showed up at the restaurant and caused a scene, and you’re projecting. Well, my parents aren’t sabotaging me. I had a happy childhood. Stop trying to compare my parents with yours.”

Wyatt’s face turns expressionless, and a pulse ticks in his jaw. Seeing his reaction, a hot surge of shame runs through me. I know Wyatt’s sensitive about his childhood. He only told me about his past in order to comfort me the day I found out I was being audited. The moment I throw those words in his face, I wish I could take them back.  

“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “That was uncalled for.”

Wyatt rises. “I’m going to work.” His voice is cool. “See you around, Piper.”

Owen doesn’t meet my gaze. The silence stretches between us after Wyatt leaves, and he doesn’t break it. Not to smirk, not to crack a joke.

“You’re angry with me too.” I want to lay my head down on the counter and cry.

He doesn’t attempt to deny it. “Don’t you have to be at the restaurant?” he asks, the hint clear. He wants me to leave.

“Yeah.” I don’t look at him as I get up. The sun is still shining brightly, but my day has dulled. Last night’s victory seems so far away. “I should go.”

“Goodbye, Piper.”

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