Chapter One
Jon Blake had long, thick fingers, and each time Eve saw them she imagined them sliding in and out of her pussy. Mmm, stretching and massaging, nice slow burn. His lips were full and dark red. What woman wouldn’t kill for lips like those? They should be classified as lethal weapons as far as Eve was concerned. More than once she’d gotten herself off to the image of them clamped around her hard nipple, sucking and tugging.
Jon was a dark-haired, dark-eyed mountain of a man, all broad shoulders and ripped muscle. A personal trainer, he was six feet and three inches of pure masculinity. A vivid image of his magnificent body bound for her pleasure skated into her mind.
Eve shimmied her shoulders, erasing the image, and the coins on her shiny onyx bra jingled and sparkled. Her ample breasts shook with the rhythm and nearly spilled from captivity.
For Jon. He was a self-professed boob man. She removed a sapphire veil from her hips and wrapped it around Jon’s thick neck.
Then she turned to Brian. Brian Conrad’s auburn hair suited his green eyes and fair complexion. He was as gorgeous as Jon, but in a completely different way. A pianist, he boasted fingers that were beautifully slender…and amazingly nimble. From Chopin to Rachmaninoff to the jazzy blues of Thelonious Monk, Brian’s fingers danced across the ivories with soul searing motivation.
Eve’s skin heated as a vivid scene floated into her mind. Her, lying on a bed, while Brian stripped her slowly, languidly, and then played her body like his instrument, starting softly with kisses and caresses and crescendoing to fortissimo as he thrust into her welcoming cunt.
She tickled his chiseled jaw with a veil, teal this time, slid it around his neck, and fluttered her belly.
Brian loved belly flutters. Said they were the sexiest moves he’d ever seen. They required control of the diaphragm and were difficult to master. Eve was famous for her flutters, and she loved sharing them with Brian. He made no secret that she had the sexiest tummy and rear end he’d ever seen.
She rewarded him with a quick hip shimmy and belly roll before she moved on to the next table, her hips swaying to the melodic chords of the acoustic guitar, the haunting strains of the violin, and the clear, hollow resonance of the flute. Underneath the melody and harmony, the mellow cadence of the dumbek provided a brisk rhythm, and Eve circled her hips in time with the beat. She danced to the center of the restaurant as the music of the guitar, violin, and flute faded away.
Time for her drum solo. She eyed the dumbek player. Damn, he was good-looking too. Had the Oasis Restaurant only admitted gorgeous men tonight? A sea of raw male beauty splashed around her.
Handsome as the drummer was, though, this dance was for Jon and Brian. All her dances were for Jon and Brian. Her two biggest fans. Her two best friends. She nodded her head slightly, and the drummer began. Her head bowed, her brown hair tickling her shoulders in soft waves, she began with a freeze, shifting her heels in short rapid movements against the floor. Only a glimmer of vibration touched her hips and tummy, but it was enough to get her audience hooting for more.
She raised her head and smiled her most brilliant smile. She snaked one arm behind her neck and held up her cascading hair while she circled her chest, and then her hips, in opposite directions. Gazing around the semi-circular room, she made eye contact with all the guests, men and women alike. Once she knew they were with her, she fell into a whole-body undulation and gave herself over to the dumbek.
The audience was gone then. Nothing existed except the dumbek, Eve and the dance.
And Jon and Brian, of course. Somehow, they were always there, inside her.
She gyrated her hips in a slow figure eight, four drum beats to every pulse of her body. Then two, and then one, until she was oscillating twice to every beat. The tempo throbbed through her and soon the beat was a part of her, calling her to the dance. No longer did she think about her moves. She simply felt, leaping inside the music as it swirled through her veins in a heady pattern of poetry and rhythm.
Silver waves of nearly visible energy surged through her and heated her skin. Her nipples tightened against her glittery bra, and her pussy thrummed along with the dumbek. Tiny electric sparks skittered over her flesh. Her muscular legs kept pace under her frothy skirts, and she flashed one every several beats. Her bare feet ground into the carpeted stage as she twirled her skirts, spiraled her body, shook her hips and chest. Her skirts flowed, her coins jingled, her hair swayed, drifting over the bare skin of her back and shoulders in silky caresses.
She made love through the dance. That, her reviewers said, was what made her the most popular belly dancer in the state of Arizona.
When the drummer signaled her, she executed a succession of rapid turns and fell to the ground in a perfect backbend.
Applause thundered through the restaurant, and Eve waited a moment, perspiration beading on her forehead, before she rose, stood tall, smiled, and bowed.
The flute and guitar played a lively tune and she sashayed around to each table. The patrons generously stuffed tips into her shimmery belt. She acknowledged each customer with grace and a smile.
“One more round of applause for the lovely Evonna!”
She whirled to center stage and bowed again. Dollar bills drifted from her waistband. The restaurant manager would collect them for her.
When the applause died down, she smiled once more then made her way to the corner table Jon and Brian occupied. They both stood.
Jon leaned over to kiss her cheek. She quivered from the press of his full, dark lips and the scraping of his scruffy stubble.
Brian, more formal and gentlemanly, kissed her fingertips, and a series of little quakes surged through her.
They were so wonderful. Her best friends in the universe.
How could she be in love with both of them?
Oh, but she was. Had been for a while. They’d met in college and now shared a loft in downtown Tucson. When they decided to live together, they’d agreed to keep their relationship platonic. Both Jon and Brian had made it clear they considered her a friend and nothing more. Two years ago she was right there with them.
But now? She’d fallen head over heels for them both. How had she let this happen? A woman couldn’t love two men, could she? What kind of loose floozy did that make her?
She sat down and wiped her sweating face and chest with a cloth napkin. Not real ladylike, but she was sopping wet. Her chestnut hair stuck to her cheeks in strands. Dancing was wonderful exercise and she loved every minute of it. But she sweated like a pig afterwards.
“You need a drink, honey?” Jon pushed his water glass toward her.
“You’re an angel.” Eve took a long gulp. Pure nectar.
“That was one of your best shows ever.” Brian winked. “Lots of flutters.”
Eve swallowed and let out a giggle. “You know I’d never disappoint you, Bri.”
Jon cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
Brian furrowed his brow. “Not now, bud.”
Hmm. Something was up. “Not now what?”
“Yes, damn it.” Jon pounded a fist on the table.
Eve jerked in her chair. “Jon, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He shook his head. “Aw, hell. That’s a lie. I’m not fine, and neither is Bri. We’ve got ourselves one giant problem, honey.”
They were in trouble? Her heart lurched. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” Jon said. “You’re the problem, see?”
“Me?” Eve squirmed in her chair. “What have I done?”
“Ignore him, sweetheart,” Brian said, his deep voice soothing. “You haven’t done anything. That’s not what he meant.”
“What exactly do you mean then, Jon?”
“Well…Brian and I…we… Aw, shit.” He thunked his forehead to the table, his sable hair spilling across the linen cloth in a mass of beautiful waves.
“Nice, bud. Real nice.” Brian shook his head. “Look, sweetheart, we don’t want to upset you, but there is something you need to know.”
“What?” Eve trembled. “Is one of you in trouble or something?”