Page 9 of Christmas with my Three Best Friends

As soon as my knees are apart, he kneels before me. I feel weak, light-headed as I look down at him. Subconsciously, my balance wavers, and I lean back against the base of the staircase railway, holding my breath as I drown in his dark eyes.

His hands creep up my creamy thighs, the muscles sore from strength training. His fingers dig into the flesh, squeezing, feeling, touching, and exploring every inch until I’m shaking with the desperate need for more. As if he can read my mind, Marius slides his tongue between my wet folds, and I lose my mind completely.

I’ve never been touched like this before. “Oh, wow…”

He moans harshly as he tastes me, lapping at my slick pussy until my clit stiffens and swells, a ball of lightning unfurling in my core. He kisses and licks, then suckles on my sensitive nub until I run my fingers through his black curls. His eyes are locked on mine, and I see myself within him. I don’t want this moment to end. It’s so intimate, so devastating, so all-consuming. I never imagined I would feel this way, I never thought we’d get to this point. But it’s happening.

His left hand moves slowly, slipping between my legs. His fingers work their way up my inner thigh, his gaze never leaving mine as he licks me harder and faster. I gasp when I feel his index and middle finger probing my entrance. I am so wet, so primed and ready for this. He goes in while suckling my clit, and I hear myself gasping and moaning. My hips sway, rocking back and forth against a rhythmic movement of his fingers.

The tension rises. The temperature spikes.

His mouth makes love to my pussy, destroying any sense of reality I’ve got left in me. I’m closer to the edge, closer…

“Don’t stop, baby,” I whisper, feeling myself slipping away.

Moments later, I feel it coming. The unstoppable earthquake, the shattering of my defenses as the orgasm explodes through me with the strength and the intensity of a tidal wave. I cry out in sweet agony as he finger-fucks me into sheer madness, suckling my clit and feeling my core as it ripples against his mouth. His moans are like music to my ear as I unravel and squirt my juices, and he licks and drinks me whole.

I’m not sure how long it takes for me to come down from this deflagration of raw pleasure, but I feel the stars burning in my eyes, and I see them in his as he stands up and takes me in his arms. We kiss, and I melt in his embrace, my legs too weak to hold me. I taste myself on his lips, on his tongue, which only serves to further stoke this devastating fire he lit within me.

“Dammit, Shay, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Marius says, trailing kisses along my jawline.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

“This is only the beginning,” he replies. “You started it, and we’re gonna see it through. All the way to the end, whatever the end may be.” He pulls back and plants one last kiss on my lips.

I’m a shapeless puddle at this point, a smile stretching across my face as I notice traces of me glistening on his lower lip. His beard tickled, but I loved every second of it. I’m getting even more aroused by the memories of mere moments ago.

“I’ll come pick you up tomorrow,” Marius says. “We’ll grab coffee on the way.”

“Okay.”

It’s all I can say as he smiles and walks out, careful to quickly close the door behind him. I’m left naked and feverishly satisfied in the hallway of my house, wondering what the hell I’m going to do with the rest of my evening. I’ve never been treated this way. Vincent and I got past the kissing stage more than once during our relationship, but he was never as tender nor as intimate with me. Not like Marius. No, Marius knew precisely how to handle me, which buttons to push to give me the utmost pleasure.

I’ve been missing out on too much for too damn long.

3

Shay

Three days later, I’m dealing with yet another gym-related crisis. The same as always, actually. Things were looking too good after my moment with Marius. Even the coffee we had on the way to work the next morning was the best I ever tasted. It made sense for the universe to remind me that life is anything but easy.

Alice is late. For the umpteenth time. I’ve lost count of how many mornings I’ve spent rushing out of the house and through the whole frickin’ city to open the gym because Little Miss Can’t Be Bothered to Use An Alarm Clock couldn’t wake up.

It's a good thing some of our customers have my number. The regulars have gotten used to this mess, but the newer folks don’t like it. People have busy schedules, so when they come to the gym, they’re allocating certain segments of time for it. When they can’t get in because the receptionist is late, it messes with their schedules. I completely understand their frustration.

I reach the gym running from my car to the front doors, where a throng of customers is already waiting. Checking my watch, I realize Alice is over thirty minutes late. This is getting worse, and I can barely look these people in the eyes as I unlock the doors and go in to turn the lights and everything else on.

“Shay, don’t worry too much about it,” one of the regulars says to me as I manage to get behind the reception desk and start signing them in, one gym pass at a time.

“This is unacceptable,” I mutter, my blood boiling as I force myself to smile and nod and apologize to everyone else while simultaneously handing them locker keys. “Utterly unacceptable…”

Some of these people give me the stink eye. I feel responsible. This is my business. My brand and my company. I put a lot of work into this place, and I certainly can’t sit idly by and watch an airhead with too-long nails and big doe eyes ruin it for my partners and me.

It's bad advertising from the get-go, and I’m pretty sure at least two of the customers I’ve seen this morning won’t be coming back next month. I give myself a minute’s worth of deep breaths while I go into the gym room and turn the machines on before I get back behind the reception and get everything else into full function. The computer, the tills, the card scanners. The lights on the refreshment fridges. The music and sound system.

One by one, the illuminated signs and art on the reception walls light up. Our logo shines brightly behind me, and I feel as though a worse disaster has been averted.

I’m thirsty and in desperate need of coffee. I spent most of my night dreaming about Marius. Jax and Richard pitched in. I was devoured by three men, and when my phone rang earlier than I’d expected, I damn near cried because I’d been pulled out of the sweetest and most decadent dream. They’ve been particularly attentive to me since the email conundrum. They smile more. They find reasons to be around me more often—new clients, new strategies and ideas for next year, anything that can get them into my office outside our regularly scheduled meetings and practice hours.

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