Chapter 4
CHRISTOPHER
Maybe I’m a disgusting old pervert, but sitting on a couch next to Janie in a darkened room is hotter than any scene at Salt.
I’m not willing to leave. Janie’s “boyfriend” isn’t willing to leave, either. Asshole tried to scare me off with that lie, not realizing that I’ve noticed him in the dark corners at Salt, watching everything going on but never participating. If Janie were really his girl, she’d be there with him.
From my observations tonight, it seems they’re either exes, or he’s been trying to woo her and she’s not having it for whatever reason.
She seems to want him, though. When he isn’t looking, she stares at him. Her snarky responses to his attempts to talk to her—I think those are a defense mechanism.
She sits between us, looking tense. Her gaze is straight ahead on the movie playing in front of us, but she isn’t really seeing it.
Wanting to put her at ease, I rest my hand on her knee, over her skirt.
She looks down, surprised.
“Is this okay?” I ask, creeping under the fabric of her skirt to stroke my fingers over her skin.
When she nods, Tag puts his hand on her other knee. “How about this, sweetheart?”
She nods again, clears her throat. “Let’s, um, watch the movie.”
“Sure.” I keep my hand on her knee. I should not be doing this—she’s Ariel’s friend, she’s my employee, I’m at least twenty years older than she is. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
But being with her feels too good. Too right.
On the screen in front of us, the two enemies-to-lovers bicker about how to best plan their best friend’s wedding. Each wants to outdo the other and prove he is the “best” man of honor. The entire premise is wacky and ridiculous, but in a normal setting, I’d probably enjoy it.
Tonight, all I can think of is the knee beneath my palm.
I look over and see Tag massaging her other knee, his fingers creeping up her thigh. Janie’s chest moves up and down, faster with her increased breathing.
I never thought an innocent touch to the knee could get a woman going like this. But it’s having nearly the same effect on me.
The fact that Tag and I are doing this to her together is even hotter.
I creep my hand up another inch. “This okay, doll? We need to know how you really feel about it.”
“Yeah.” Her breath stutters. “It’s, um, good.”
“If you don’t stop us,” Tag says, “we’re going to keep touching you.”
“We’ll keep moving our hands up, and up.” I slide mine toward her pussy as an example. “We’ll keep doing it until you tell us otherwise. What do you think about that?”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “I like it.”
For the first time, I meet Tag’s eyes over her head. He nods. We’re fucking doing this.
JANIE
What universe have I unwittingly wandered into?
Maybe this is a dream sparked by my conversation with Ariel?
I had that dream on the airplane, where Mr. Capulet taunted me with his cock while Tag restrained me…
maybe this is similar? I dig my fingernails into my palm, testing to see whether the pain wakes me up.
Not that I want to wake up. If this is a dream, yes please, let’s keep on going.
I don’t wake up. This is real.
Tag grabs my hand. “What are you doing? Are you hurting yourself, sweetheart?”
“No, I—just, I thought this was a dream.”
He runs his finger over the shallow half-moon shapes in my palm. “I thought maybe you liked the pain.”
Something in his tone has me glancing at his face. His expression is unreadable.
I decide to test the waters. “I don’t…not…like it.”
“Really.” His other hand is still at my thigh. He lightly pinches my skin between his thumb and forefinger.
The shock of it travels from my thigh and up to my pussy, centering at my clit. When I gasp, he leans over and kisses me.
Tag. I’ve missed his commanding kisses, the way he effortlessly takes charge and stokes the flames of my desire. He wasn’t my first kiss, but he was my first—and only—sexual partner.
He parts my lips with his, sending his tongue into my mouth. I suck on him, moaning like the happy, horny hussy I am. As our tongues dance, he slides his hand higher up my thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of my thong.
Mr. Capulet does the same thing. I open my eyes and look to the side to see him watching Tag and me kiss with a longing expression on his face.
This has to be a dream.
I break the kiss with Tag and turn my head toward Mr. Capulet.
All those boundaries I set as his PA, as his daughter’s best friend? Gone as soon as his lips touch mine. His whiskers tickle my lips and cheek. With his free hand—the one not under my skirt, toying with my panties—he grabs my chin to open my mouth and hold me still.
He steals between my lips, plundering my mouth, tasting and devouring me like a man possessed. I moan against his lips, sucking on his tongue.
Pulling back, he says, “Your panties are wet, doll. Let’s get them off you.”
This seems like it should be happening to someone else. Someone sexier and more experienced. But no, it’s happening to me. “Plain Jane,” as my fourth-grade frenemy used to call me.
Each man grabs the waistband of my underwear at my hips. I lift my ass enough that they can pull the panties down.
“I’ll keep these.” Mr. Capulet crumples the fabric in his fist and brings it to his nose. “You smell so good, Janie.”
He tucks the thong into his pocket and grabs my knee again, pulling my thigh toward him. Tag does the same with my other thigh. I’m spread open between them, only my skirt keeping me from being completely indecent.
“We’re gonna make you come.” Tag nuzzles my neck. “I’ve missed seeing you come, sweetheart. So fucking much.”
I gasp as his fingertip teases my entrance. This is real, it’s happening, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.
Mr. Capulet’s finger rubs gently over my clit. Swift, light touches that have me bucking my hips.
“I think she likes this,” Mr. Capulet says.
“Wait until you see her let go with an orgasm.” Tag sounds smug, but also somehow reverent.
“I can’t wait.” Mr. Capulet rubs me again. “Lean back, doll. Enjoy.”
How many times have I dreamed about him commanding me to do sexy things instead of office things? Now it’s actually happening, and I don’t know how to obey.
He pulls his finger back from my clit. In a stern voice, he says, “Lean back, Janie.”
As soon as my shoulders and head touch the back of the couch, he returns his attention to my clit, rewarding me for my compliance. “Good job, Janie.”
Sometimes, he says that to me at work. I’ll never hear it the same way again.
Tag’s finger swirls at the entrance to my vagina before he slowly starts pushing in. I shut my eyes tight, overwhelmed by the sensations of these two men fingering me at the same time.
Tag kisses me again, his lips firm and insistent. The men’s fingers move between my legs like they have all the time in the world. Meanwhile, I’m seeing stars behind my eyelids, my muscles are tensing, and I am so, so close to coming.
Mr. Capulet leans in close. “You can let go, doll. We’ll take care of you. You’re doing so well, you deserve this orgasm.”
Mr. Capulet’s filthy-sweet words, Tag’s commanding kiss, their clever fingers—it all comes together and erupts into a toe-curling orgasm. Utter bliss, with pleasure flowing through me, all-consuming. I cry out against Tag’s mouth, one of my hands grabbing blindly for Mr. Capulet’s thigh.
With my body still shaking from my release, I open my eyes.
Both men are staring intently at me, looking very pleased with themselves.
What was I thinking? My ex-boyfriend, and my boss—my boss who is Ariel’s dad?
Tag’s smug expression transforms to concern. “Janie, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we probably all made a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have—we shouldn’t have—”
“Janie,” Mr. Capulet says, “I don’t have any regrets, other than your potential discomfort. I want to reassure you, nothing has to change between us.”
I nod and blink back tears. I want things to change between us. I’ve been fantasizing about it for months and months. But if there’s no future there, it’s better to stop now.
And Tag…he’s looking at me like he used to, when we were together.
“This is too confusing,” I say. “I need to be alone, to think.”
“I can take you home,” Tag offers.
“I could, too,” Mr. Capulet says.
I look between them, knowing if I went home with either, more of this might happen. Neither of them got to come, or even tried. I feel selfish for shutting things down now, while at the same time I yearn to watch each of them lose control.
Alone. I need to be alone. “I’ll stay here for the night—my parents won’t mind. Thanks, though.”
They look like they want to argue with me, but instead they each nod in defeat.
“Very well,” Mr. Capulet says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“So will I.” Tag shoots him a look.
Oh great, now they’re competing with each other?
I straighten my skirt and stand, hinting that they should head for the door. Once I walk them there, each man leans forward and places a soft kiss against my cheek.
“Goodnight, Janie,” Mr. Capulet says. “We’ll speak tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” Tag gives my hand an extra squeeze. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I close the door after them. I enjoyed my sugar cookies tonight, but it seems as far as men go, I bit off far more than I can chew.