Magic of Three Read online

  He wasted no time reaching down and taking Julian’s rigid cock in a firm, knowing grip. He knew how to bring the man to his knees with one ruthless caress. “You like it nice and hard, just this side of rough and brutal. Bring you fast. Have you shooting in minutes.”

  “Oh gods, that feels so good. Gonna make me come so good.” Julian thrust his hips up as Tim leaned down to lap at the very tip of his cock while pumping his hand slowly, so slowly. The salty taste danced across his tongue, a testament to his effect on his self-controlled lover. Each steely stroke sent Julian’s balls tighter, closer to his thick, angry purple cock. Tim knew how Julian loved the sweet, rough torment, how close to bursting he really was.

  Now time to switch tactics, Tim thought as a wicked grin danced across his face.

  Tim relaxed, taking a deep breath before he let Julian’s thick cock slide down his throat. Julian nearly came off the couch as he swallowed, forcing his silky slick muscles to twist around the lengthy, broad cock before hollowing his cheeks in slick suction, ending as the mushroom head met the seal of his lips. Julian wove his fingers through Tim’s thick golden locks, holding his head down as he begged and whimpered.

  Tim answered the pleading by slurping down again and humming, knowing how those vibrations would feel on his lover’s straining cock. Incoherent words of pleasure tumbled from Julian’s lips as Tim sucked him deep. Throat muscles rippled around his pulsing cock in a wet clinch.

  Julian’s back bowed, his head pounding into the couch cushions. Pressure built, erasing all thought, all cares. His whimpers filled the air. He wanted release, needed release. Fought against release. “Tim, no more,” he gasped, hands falling helpless to his side, grasping at couch cushions. “No more. Can’t stop. You have to. No more.”

  “Then come. I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever you got to give.” With that said Tim sucked even harder, swallowing the swollen cock head. Lightning skittered up Julian’s spine, his balls clenching tight, struggling to release. With a harsh groan, spasms racked his body. Tim swallowed splash after splash of Julian’s warm cum. His skillful tongue licked up the last few drops dotting his lips.

  Julian opened his eyes to stare at his gloating lover. Love and promise as well as a spark of an infinitely deep if indefinite emotion filled his gaze. “Give me a moment to recover.”

  Tim’s infectious grin peeked out as he wiggled back to lean against the arm of the couch. His smile warmed the last bleak places frozen in Julian’s heart. “Don’t worry about me. This was about you. You needed it. Not that I’d refuse if you really want to do me. I’m loving, not crazy.”

  Julian let his head fall back as he basked in Tim’s unconditional love. Friendship, loyalty, caring and desire. These feelings marked every lifetime he spent with Tim.

  If only she were as constant.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, love,” a playful voice yelled in her ear over the pounding beat of the punk song blasting through the darkened, smoke-filled room. “Your friend looks like she could use some loosening up. Twenty bucks and I’ll put a smile on her pretty little face.”

  Without hesitation Lisa Harrington reached into her purse, an evil, impish grin spreading. The male stripper was right. After being married to the slug for five years her newly divorced friend, Janice, did need to loosen up. That was the point of this whole outing, a Happy Divorce Day party.

  And Lisa intended to make sure Janice’s day was happy indeed. Positively electrifying. She might not be able to punch out the jerk who’d hurt her oldest, dearest and almost only good friend but at least she could take the haunted look off Janice’s face for a few hours. Still, she’d prefer the bloodier option.

  The dark-haired man in the black felt cowboy hat tucked Lisa’s twenty into his shiny black leather g-string, letting his hand linger on his skin to emphasize his bulging package. His eyes roved over her body and he licked his lips, showing appreciation for the man-eating red dress she’d picked as a colorful form of camouflage before winking and turning to Janice. He stalked forward in rhythm with the music, his hips undulating in a provocative dance. Janice’s eyes widened like a deer trapped, frozen, in headlights. The stripper tossed his taut leg over her lap, pinning her to her plush chair. He licked his lips and braced his hands on her chrome chair back.

  Janice was trapped.

  But oh, to be trapped like that. Public anonymity. Music pumping hot through your veins. Sweaty male flesh writhing over your body. People cheering you on as he grabs your hand and forces you to slap his hard, luscious, flexing ass. Just watching her friend basking in the center of attention made Lisa hot.

  Too bad she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the whole lap dance idea. She wanted it but at the same time didn’t like the idea of being so exposed, even among friends.

  Pure sexual haze followed by soul-shaking release. Nothing in the world compared. But the possibility of public humiliation…

  Lisa almost wished she still had a husband at home waiting to fulfill her every need. Almost. But then again, Sam had never thought much about her needs anyway, greedy, insensitive bastard. She was better off with her realistic-looking, if a tad beyond natural size, vibrator with its nice little rabbit ears. It was always there when she needed it, with the exception of dead batteries. And it was never unfaithful. Guaranteed clean and non-threatening.

  The song ended and the cocky cowboy backed away, tipping his hat and blowing a kiss. Janice tossed her an evil look of reprisal. Message received. Vengeance promised, vengeance in the form of a lap dance. She’d grin and bear it, surviving the embarrassment, as long as Janice didn’t pick the guy who looked like Mr. Clean. Not only was oiled and bald so not her type, Lisa didn’t really want to know if the man shaved everything. And let’s face it, five o’clock shadow belonged on the face, not the head, chest or, god forbid, back.

  Eww.

  To distract herself from her future with someone limber and greased, Lisa flagged down the cute young thing of a waiter. She slapped her credit card on the shirtless man’s tray and started a tab. Lemon drops, lotsa lemon drops. Plastic would keep the shots coming, and this was the night for plentiful alcohol.

  Lisa’s eyes followed the waiter as he wove his way through scattered tables and frantic, hopping women, but before reaching the stage her attention snagged on something else, someone much more tempting than any strip act could be. Lucifer himself sauntered toward her. Only a fallen angel could look that good and that bad at the same time. Long golden brown-blond hair floated around his shoulders in a flowing halo. Piercing sapphire-blue eyes sliced through the crowd. And his little white, glittering g-string left no part of his well-toned and tanned body to the imagination. Not that she could have imagined the reality of something that…impressive.

  And he was heading straight for their table!

  Lisa expected him to stop by her chair, especially when his eyes never left her face. Her heart fluttered. She felt hunted. Instead he stalked right past her and straight for Janice. Which was how it should be. It was Janice’s party. She was the one sporting the condom-covered black lace veil. Still, watching him walk past sent an odd empty feeling stabbing through her. Lisa wanted to reach up and drag him back to her, back where he belonged.

  Instead, he whispered in Janice’s ear, giving Lisa a wonderful, uninhibited view of his tight, quivering, muscular ass. The type of ass that begged to be clawed, or at least spanked until it glowed a healthy pink.

  Lisa fought back the urge to do just that as his hips hitched to the pounding rhythm of the music. Still the man kept his attention on Janice. Her face lit up and her sparkling smile sent a wave of biting jealousy crashing over Lisa. But the feeling didn’t last long. Not with Janice pawing through her purse and shoving money down the front of his tight little g-string, pure devilment shining in her eyes.

  Janice leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. Then she smirked at Lisa, kissing and wiggling her fingers.

  Uh-oh. Payback time.

  The man locked
his eyes on Lisa again, devouring her. The whistles and jeers of her friends rolled off him. He never broke his stride as he approached her. Her ears roared as Lisa grabbed the edge of her chair and prepared to be straddled. Instead he took her hand and tugged her, scrambling, to her feet.

  His honey-dark voice melted over her as he whispered, “I think I’m going to need a bit more room to do you justice.”

  He used her hand to pull her closer to him, anchoring her to his side, an aura of urgency surrounding them. Chills raced down her body as he hooked his other arm around her shoulder. Skin on skin. Delicious, smoldering contact.

  Lisa licked her dry lips, forcing herself not to break eye contact. He smiled. Not a lascivious smirk. Not the grin of a man looking for a good tip. A bright, honest and joyful smile that arrowed straight to a woman’s heart. A potent combination of dark nights filled with sensuous sin and long days filled with romping romantic play. She leaned into him, wallowing in the delirium.

  Lisa held her free hand to her chest as he quickly guided her through the throng of horny, somewhat-drunken women. He wove through tables filled with giggles and screams but he bypassed the stairs to the stage, much to Lisa’s relief.

  Thank god for small favors. That’s all I need, to make a complete spectacle of myself. Not even for Janice. Nothing’s worth the teasing I’d get after being on stage with the Golden God here.

  Instead he halted at a row of tables and booths with “reserved” cards perched on them. He pulled out a sturdy leather-backed chair and handed her down, helping her adjust herself to protect her modesty in her short dress. When she sat comfortably, he nudged her knees apart. His thick, muscular thighs slid against hers as he stepped forward. The smell of spicy cologne and male musk surrounded her. He tossed his hair over his shoulder and leaned down. His knee rubbed against her damp, spasming mound as he whispered, “Now this is much better. You look like the type to appreciate a bit of privacy.”

  He brushed a short silver lock of her hair behind the small shell of her ear, the tip of his finger running down the soft curve of her cheek. She thought she felt his lips on that small, deliciously sensitive bit of skin behind her earlobe, but it must have been his nose.

  Strippers weren’t allowed to kiss customers, right?

  Then lethal passion glinted in the eyes looking down at her as the music filling the room changed from frantic and driven to throbbing and sultry. His joyous smile turned wicked and those vibrant sapphire eyes flamed with the lust flowing out from him to fill her with tingling anticipation.

  He slid his hands down her arms. Goose bumps covered her skin at his soft touch. Her pulse leapt to meet each caress. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in pure erotic euphoria. But they flew open as he grasped her hips in a firm grip and bucked his pelvis forward. His lengthy, virile cock rubbed against her aching cleft. Her stomach dropped. Her womb throbbed, yawning. The constant pressure sent desire tingling through her body like tiny lightning bolts. She gasped, eyes widening.

  I guess they’re allowed to do more than I thought.

  His smile grew eager and avaricious with barely hidden yearning. “I’m going to enjoy this. And so will you. You’ll enjoy every moment of my body sliding against yours.”

  A whimper caught in her throat as the man moved against her like a large jungle cat. He placed her trembling, sweating hands on his chest, encouraging her to explore his hard, damp skin. Her hands twitched. She gave in to temptation, sliding down to explore the two lickable cuts in the muscles above his pelvic bones that arrowed down his abs to his groin. Living stone flexed against her touch. God, how she loved a man with that particular muscular cut. In return, his fingers delved into the back of her short hair, sifting through it.

  Lisa moaned and thrashed into his caress.

  Her hands stroked his naked skin. His flesh gliding beneath her palms felt natural, familiar. She curved her fingers and raked her nails down, marking her territory, claiming him. She fought the urge to lick the long red trail, to taste the salt of his skin tinged with a metallic zing.

  “Mmm,” he growled, pushing his body against her hands, “I like that.”

  He rubbed his cheeks against hers, forcing another gasp from her. God, he felt good, smelled good. How would he taste? Salty? Spicy? Sweet?

  Before she succumbed to temptation and started lapping at his bare chest, he shimmied down her body, raking against her breasts. Her nipples pebbled beneath the thin crimson cloth of her dress. He glanced up and laughed, a deep, dark chuckle. Lisa’s heart gave a lurch as he slipped his face in her cleavage, rocking his head back and forth, and took a deep breath.

  “Nothing smells quite like the skin of an aroused woman. Musky, savory, exquisite. There’s no better perfume.”

  Lisa rubbed her thighs together as his words sent a shaft of desire straight to her core, dampening the silk of her panties, squeezing her eager pussy. His knowing, lascivious smile broadened. He stared in her eyes, his gaze holding a hint of recognition, some deeper emotions she didn’t recognize, didn’t know if she wanted to recognize. Then he looked down again, leaving her wondering if his expression had only been her imagination. A horny woman looking for something more from a firm young stripper who made her writhe with hunger.

  As the music pounded out its slow, heavy beat, the stripper slid his aroused, satin-encased cock between her thighs. Her dress hiked up close to her hips to accommodate him, a sight anyone near could notice. But all attention focused on the stage, giving Lisa a false sense of security. She moaned and wiggled but didn’t resist his invasion. Instead she arched into his lunging strokes, craving deeper contact. Temptation ruled. No one cared what she was doing. And it felt so good. So very, very good after such a long, long time.

  Safe sin.

  Then he spun around, bending over so his taut ripe ass flashed in her face again. She’d always thought of herself as more of a chest woman but the man had a luscious, mouthwatering ass. Something to be appreciated by a connoisseur. She was so focused on his assets that his next move surprised her.

  He took her foot, slipping off her shoe as he raised her leg. Once her hose-smooth leg straightened, he straddled it. His body slid down her calf, stopping only when his cock grazed her toes. Gently, he rubbed his hard length across the tips as he firmly massaged the arch of her foot.

  Lisa moaned and twitched. Never had she imagined that her feet could be an erogenous zone. She’d never really thought about her feet much one way or the other. She didn’t understand the whole designer footwear fascination. Shoes were shoes. Now she’d be lucky if she didn’t have an orgasm walking down the street in a good pair of heels.

  When the stripper put her foot back down, she expected him to stand and face her again. She was wrong. He did turn and face her, but he didn’t stand. Instead he crawled forward on the floor, between her legs, a hungry predator stalking his meal. He ran his hands along her silk-covered thighs as his chest forced her legs to spread even farther.

  Closer and closer he crawled. Closer and closer to that one part of her body that wept for attention. Bound behind nylon and silk her clit throbbed almost painfully, aching and begging for promised attention. Her pouty, tingling pussy ached to be filled.

  Her eyes rolled back and she scooted down in her chair. She rolled and swayed her hips, thrusting against him in invitation. Closer, she had to get closer. A groan sounded but she couldn’t tell if it was her voice or his. All she knew was that she wanted more, needed more. More contact, more pressure. Just a little bit to push her over the glorious, back-bending edge. With the exception of the pulsing, musical beat her surroundings faded. No one and nothing existed but the man kneeling in front of her, offering his service, worshiping her body with his own.

  Only when he gave a mournful sigh and rolled back to his feet did reality intrude once more. No more contact. She wanted to cry out and pull him back into her arms. Her hands started grabbing for him.

  The MC came on over the speakers, announcing another round of p
ay dances on stage. The lucky girls whose names were called rushed for the stairs.

  The stripper gave a sad smile, regret etched in his face, and reached down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I wish I could stay with you longer, lovely, but I’m up on stage this round.”

  Lisa gave a weak laugh and straightened up in her chair. She ran a hand down her dress, smoothing out real and imagined wrinkles. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” she quipped, trying to make light of the deep and frighteningly powerful feelings still surging through her body. “Must be good for tips. Not that you need any help in that department.”

  The stripper frowned, the grim expression seeming out of place on his happy, boyish face. “I’ll take that as a compliment, even if you’re wrong.”

  Lisa raised an eyebrow but he didn’t expand right away. He headed for the stage, turning back only once. “I don’t say that to all the girls,” he tossed over his shoulder.