Page 35 of Pin-up Girl

The way she was pressed against me amplified all of that.

I’d wanted her for so long, but I’d put the idea of being more than friends out of my head.

We were still friends. Sure, I’d married her, but it wasn’t the same.

And the way she felt in my arms at this moment was different from the past as well. Any part of the past. Her heat and weight and the way she yielded at all the right moments and resisted in kind…

Everything I’d ignored for more than a decade rushed back to tease me, all culminating in her use me.

Brodie’s being here… Watching… Thinking he had a claim on her…

That made something inside me growl and snap mine, and pull Aubrey closer. I didn’t want to share her. Not with anyone, including the man I lost my virginity to in high school.

But I’d always loved starring in a show.

I trailed my lips along her skin, from jaw to her exposed shoulder. The faint hints of her perfume mingled with the ever-present scent in her back room, and was so distinctly Aubrey. Fuck, she was tempting. I tangled my fingers in her mussed, teased hair and yanked her head back to expose more of her neck.

Her faint laugh melted into a groan as I nipped her earlobe, then nibbled a light path along her neck. “You have no idea how often I’ve fantasized about you.” I hadn’t meant to admit that out loud, but I liked the sound of my own confession.

Aubrey’s soft sighs and Brodie’s raised brows set off a chain reaction inside, drawing the part of me to life that loved to perform. It was always better when the dance was one I was passionate about.

I skated the palm of my free hand up Aubrey’s arm, and goosebumps rose under my touch. I glided the lightest touch along her jaw. “I’ve imagined how it feels to be inside you in every possible way.” I pressed two fingers to her lips.

She parted them in a light gasp and let me in, so she could suck and lick.

I scraped her shoulder with my teeth, and nudged her exposed bra strap aside. Madonna could only dream of looking as good in this outfit as Aubrey did.

“Where to start?” My mouth hummed against her soft skin with the question. I pulled my fingers free, and her tiny gasp drove straight to my cock. “I could fuck your face. Feel those full, pouty lips wrapped around me.”

She flicked her tongue out, licking the shine I’d left behind. “You could.”

There were so many possibilities—so many fantasies—that it was a shame to pick just one. I dropped my hand to her skirt. Sheer fabric over something lightweight and asymmetrical. It was easy to bunch up the side of the clothing in my fist, and expose her bare hip. The teasing hint of black cotton.

“Fuck it if I don’t want to bury my cock inside you.” I moved my hand forward along her skirt, still keeping her exposed. Making sure Brodie had a good view.

And he was definitely watching, his expression fluctuating between the faintest frown, and open desire, as he gripped the faint outline of an erection along his inner thigh.

Did he know he was doing that?

“Do you have a preference, Aubrey?” As I asked, I teased my fingers over the front of her panties, pressing the crotch into her damp heat.

This wouldn’t be any fun if she didn’t enjoy it too.

“Toys don’t get to pick how they’re played with.” Her voice was soft and meek with a hint of pleading underneath.

I could draw out the foreplay, but we’d just had a couple of hours of that. This wasn’t a ballet, with graceful pirouettes, and innuendo, stretched over an entire evening. This was grinding on the club floor—direct and desperate with a distinct conclusion.

I grabbed the wooden chair we’d been using as part of our wedding dance, pulled it closer, and bent Aubrey over the back. I pushed her skirt up to hook on her hips and leave her stunning ass on display. “So grippable and fuckable.”

Brodie let out a low groan, and a glance in his direction showed him biting his lower lip and sliding down his zipper.

Good.

I yanked Aubrey’s panties down, and she stepped out of them to kick them aside. When I slipped my hand between her legs, her juices coated my fingers, and my dick strained against my trousers.

Protection. Fuck. “No condoms.” My voice was raw. Why would I carry them? I wasn’t getting laid these days.

“I’ve got this.” Brodie strode toward us, his cock hanging out, already wrapped in a rubber.

---