“Failure is not a part of your destiny, querida,” he assured as her as he lifted his head, bussing an affectionate kiss on her lips before lifting her from his chest and rising from the bed. “You’ll succeed, just as you’ve always told me you would.”
She rolled to her back, lying against the pillows as she watched him pace to the wide windows of the bedroom and stare out over the city pensively. He seemed distant, reflective, as though some part of the evening weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“Are you upset with me, Bastian?” she asked then, wondering if perhaps she had asked too much of the friendship they had shared for so long.
He turned back to her, a slow, gentle smile on his lips.
“Never,” he assured her, his dark eyes watching her with a glimmer of his earlier amusement. “You, my dear, are like a breath of fresh air among the swine. I shall miss you though.”
He scratched lazily at the planes of his chest before his hand ran along his abdomen to rub absently as the heavy sac between his thighs. He was an impressive man, in all ways. But he wasn’t Ian. Bastian was her dearest friend, but Ian was her heart. He had been for nearly a decade. Before she had even known what the odd, unfamiliar feelings were that rose inside her, she had known they belonged to Ian.
Moving from the bed, she walked to him, settling into his embrace and rubbing her cheek against his chest as his hands smoothed down her back.
“I will always be near,” she promised him sincerely. “You work too hard, Bastian, and play too little. Should you require amusement, you have the numbers where I’ll be. Be sure to call me often.”
He chuckled. “Definitely. I shall require updates, little one. Now get dressed.” He patted her lightly on the bare expanse of her rear as he pushed her to the bathroom. “Your plane leaves within hours and you wouldn’t want to miss it. I believe your dear Ian is due to meet you?”
Excitement rose inside her. Instantly, her body became sensitive, her ni**les hardening as the tender muscles of her pu**y began to throb in hunger. It was like this each time she thought of him, her arousal would build within her body, making her weak with longing, with hunger. How surprised Ian would be when he learned the true reason for her visit to America, and her intentions. She was going to seduce the un-seducible. She was going to capture the most elusive prey in the world. The heart of the most cynical, jaded male she had ever known. A man who had sworn to possess no heart, no tender emotions.
She was going to claim Ian as her own.
“Perhaps you should visit while I am there, Bastian.” She moved quickly for the shower. “We would have a wonderful time in America. And Ian’s club is rumored to be one of the most exclusive and entertaining among the sharing clubs in the world. It’s not as though it is not a pleasure you greatly enjoy.” She cast him an impish smile over her shoulder as she grabbed up the overnight bag at the bottom of the bed.
Bastian was perhaps much like Ian. Open only to those closest to him, his sexuality running deep and hot. He wasn’t a man known to deny himself any pleasure that he deemed appropriate. He was a true sensualist, one of the few men who cared little for the opinion of those around him, and only for the personal code of honor he held.
“Perhaps soon.” He shrugged, but his expression was thoughtful. “Perhaps soon.”
* * * * *
Ian Sinclair fought to breathe deeply as he rolled from the limp, exhausted form that had been sandwiched between him and her husband. Kimberly Raddington was like a flame, searing them with a sexual heat as she clenched around the cocks invading her slender body, screaming for more, pleading with Jared for release and fighting to drive them both deeper inside her.
Now, hours later, she moaned tiredly as Jared shifted her between them, allowing the rest they had denied her through the night. Long, flame-red hair flowed over her back to fall to her side, caressing Ian’s arm where he lay beside her. Reminding him too much of darker, silkier locks. Of a woman he knew he could never possess.
He stared down at the bright silk, a smile playing about his mouth as she grumbled grouchily at her husband’s movements beside her.
Ian patted her rear affectionately as she settled back down, his gaze lingering on the blushing flesh. He had spanked her until her silken ass had flushed as red as her hair, and still she had screamed, begged for more. They had used her well into the midnight hour, and she had drained both men more than once, leaving them nearly as exhausted now as she was.
“You stayin’?” Jared asked as he yawned tiredly, cuddling close to Kimberly’s sleeping form as he stared over her shoulder at Ian.
Ian glanced at the bedside clock and grimaced wearily.
“Not tonight.” He didn’t want to shower and leave. The effort seemed monumental, but he had no choice. “I have to meet Courtney’s plane in a few hours and take her back to the house. I may be back tomorrow though.”
The relationship he shared with Jared and Kimberly was a unique one for him. He had never formed close ties with one of the members of his club, and never with one of the women that he played a third to. But Jared and Kimberly were different. Kimberly’s natural affection had touched him, made him realize there was perhaps more to sex than the act itself. The itch that needed to be scratched.
Unfortunately, she also reminded him too much of someone else. The realization, when it had hit him months before, had sent a chill chasing through him. But it hadn’t eased the arousal that filled him each time he spent the night with the couple. It had, perhaps, made it stronger.
Ian was a man uncomfortable with weakness. He had made certain over the years that his heart remained free of entanglements and that his soul was his own. He had learned early the value of keeping his emotions to himself and of steeling his heart against the women who entered his life. But Kimberly had touched him, had wormed her way into his emotions before he realized it, or, unfortunately, realized why.
“That’s Dane Mattlaw’s daughter, right?” Jared watched him in concern. “You’re keeping her at the house? Think that’s smart?”
“No.” Ian knew it wasn’t smart. If he remembered anything about Courtney Mattlaw it was her reckless, wild nature. Dane never seemed to see the wildness that glittered in his precious daughter’s eyes, but Ian had. And it made him more than a little uncomfortable. It spurred a response in him that made him feel like a dirty old man.