“I’m not hammered, I just like when you’re naked,” Mateo states.
I jump at the weight of Adrian’s hand, suddenly on my thigh. He’s just feeling the spot on my dress that he got wet, but my gaze snaps to his face, then his hand. My heart beats harder, unsure how to process the behavior of these two men that I love.
Adrian’s hooded brown eyes meet mine. “It’s wet, all right.”
“You heard the man,” Mateo pipes in. “Take off your dress, Mia.”
I don’t know what to do. I break Adrian’s gaze to look at my husband. “Are you serious?”
“It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before,” Mateo tells me, lightly amused by my reluctance. “We’ve fucked in the backseat of the car. He has a rearview mirror.”
To this, Adrian objects. “Hey, no, fuck that. I have always been a gentleman. There was nothing I could do about hearing you two fuck, but I never looked. I’ve been tempted, but I haven’t done it. Unlike some assholes on this couch, I’ve always tried to respect Mia’s privacy.”
Without much thought, I give his thigh a little pat. “I appreciate that, Adrian.”
Adrian’s gaze falls to my hand on his thigh. I should move it, but I don’t. I tell myself it’s not doing anything wrong—nothing he didn’t do just a moment earlier—but my shit-stirring husband robs the moment of any claim to innocence, asking, “What color panties are you wearing, sweetheart?”
“I’m not wearing panties,” I murmur back.
Of course Mateo knew that.
Of course Adrian’s mind follows the trail Mateo leads it down
His gaze moves from my hand on his thigh to my legs, trailing up. His eyes drag the material up my thighs, revealing my bare pussy to his hungry gaze. Then his hands follow. That surprises the hell out of me, but I’m helpless to resist when those strong, capable hands—generally used in violence to build and maintain my husband’s empire—yank the red cable-knit material up, bunching it around my thighs. I shift my weight, letting him pull it up around my waist. His eyes devour me and arousal stirs between my legs. My breath comes quicker and I steal a look over at my husband, uncertain whether or not he’s okay with this. For obvious reasons, it’s never come up. He knows I love Adrian, he knows Adrian would die to protect me, but this is uncharted territory.
Mateo gives me a brief nod of encouragement.
My heart does a freefall from my chest cavity, but then Adrian is tugging the dress off me and tossing it on the floor.
Now I’m naked, save for a black, lacey push-up bra.
Adrian’s left arm snakes around my bare waist and he pulls me to his side, dipping his head and brushing his lips against the swell of my cleavage. God, that feels so good.
I dart another uncertain glance at Mateo. Surely we should stop this. This is wrong on so many levels. In a less inebriated state, Adrian would never do this.
If I expect my husband to save us from sin, I’m looking for help in the wrong place. His gaze is dark, following Adrian’s lips as they trail along the lacy material. Adrian’s tongue darts out to cover my nipple through the material and I gasp.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, my fingers threading naturally through Adrian’s hair, keeping him close.
“Touch him,” Mateo directs.
I’m already getting lost in a sea of sensation, Adrian’s hot mouth making me forget where I am and why I shouldn’t be here. The hand not tangled in Adrian’s hair drifts down his back, then skates across his shoulders. I’ve always admired these beautiful, muscular shoulders. I want to tug his shirt off and leave kisses all over—the perfect, smooth side, and the scarred side.
“Not there,” Mateo says, lightly amused.
My heart beats in my throat, but I swallow it down and obey Mateo’s command. I let my hand drift between Adrian’s muscular thighs so I can rub him through the fabric of his pants.
“Take it out,” Adrian murmurs.
Desire curls through me. I unbutton his pants and reach inside, caressing his cock. Oh, god, I want it. I love the feel of him in my hand, the look of relief on his face as I close my fingers around him.
“Fuck, Mia.”
“You want me to suck your cock, Adrian?”
Instead of answering, he fists a hand in my hair and pulls my head down where he wants it. I push my ass back and bend my head, opening my mouth and taking the salty tip of Adrian’s cock between my lips. I run my tongue around the tip, delving into the opening, then I open wider and lower my head, taking his entire length into my mouth, inch by inch.
Adrian groans, letting me know I’m pleasing him. I’m hungry for his pleasure, my own arousal growing as I move my mouth over his cock, then I jolt as a firm hand runs over my ass. Long fingers move between my thighs, breach my slick entrance.