Indecent...Proposal Page 4

  ‘Watching a film.’

  ‘What sort of film?’

  He shakes his head, bites down on his bottom lip. I uncurl my fingers, slide them under his balls and squeeze their heavy weight. ‘Tell the truth.’

  ‘A…a naughty film.’

  ‘What sort of a naughty film?’

  ‘The people in it were…well, I’m not really sure what they were doing. I’m very innocent.’

  ‘Were they fucking?’

  He nods vigorously, as if he’s pleased that I’ve guessed. It doesn’t escape me that what’s really exciting Lucas is the game we’re playing, not the fact that he’s playing with me, but I dismiss that thought and throw myself into the part. ‘That’s disgusting,’ I tell him, as I wrap my fingers round his cock again. I get a good grip, then I lead him into my living room. I pull him over to the sofa, pick up the remote and flick on the telly. Then I take him over to the cupboard in the corner. The doors open with a squeak. I reach in, select a DVD and hold it up. ‘Something like this?’

  Lucas’s eyes go wide. His gaze flicks from the case to me, and his penis jerks in my hand. He nods again, and I can tell from his reaction that I’ve shocked him. Score one for me, I think to myself. I had a short-lived boyfriend about eighteen months ago who watched a lot of porn. I got rid of him, but I kept the DVDs he’d left round my flat.

  ‘Put it on, then,’ I tell Lucas. I settle myself back on the sofa as he shuffles over to the TV, pyjama pants caught around his knees. He drops the disc into the player then shuffles back towards me, as if he’s uncertain what to do next. I pat the seat next to me, and he sits down.

  His cock is jutting out, dark and throbbing, and I can tell he’s dying to touch himself. In front of us, the screen flickers to life, the DVD menu offering us a smorgasbord of scenes and options. I set the remote on his thigh and wonder what he will pick. I’m betting the obligatory fake lesbian scene.

  To my surprise, he picks the one at the bottom. A threesome. I wriggle in my seat as thoughts of Paul and Victoria flash immediately into my mind, thoughts of the games we played together, of her mouth between my legs as he fucked her hard, of the two of us taking turns to suck him. That had been a particular favourite for all of us.

  But as the action starts up in front of me, I realise that the threesome Lucas has picked isn’t quite like that. This isn’t two women pleasing one man, the predictable choice of the horny male fantasist.

  This is two men pleasing one woman.

  I feel hot and not quite myself as the scene starts to play out. I’ve seen it before, but I’ve never really thought about it before. I sneak a glance at Lucas. Why did he choose this one? Did he think I would like it?

  A cautious hand starts to stroke my thigh through the slippery satin of my nightie and I let it. The screen has too much of my attention to stop him now. I watch as four big, rough hands work the willing flesh of the woman on screen, before her mouth is filled to bursting with two big, thick cocks.

  One of the men is tall, broad, dark-haired, and I can’t take my eyes off him. A strange sound comes out of me, something like a whimper. In my head, I’m the woman on screen, and Scott is the dark-haired man currently pushing her knees apart. I wonder what Scott would say if he knew what I was doing right now, what I was thinking. Would I get a lecture, or would I get that hot, hungry gaze and those hands and that mouth? But I force myself to stop. I do not want to think about Scott Smithson right now. I definitely do not want to think about him digging his hand into my hair and angling his cock into my mouth as Lucas gets busy between my thighs.

  So I decide that I won’t. I push away the hands that are roaming my body and I mount Lucas, pinning him to the sofa. He stares up at me, dark eyes gleaming. I figure I could do anything I want with him right now, and he’d let me. It’s a heady feeling, being this in control. I was never in control with Paul, and I’m certainly not in control with Scott.

  I grab the hem of my nightie, pull it over my head and then toss it aside. I’m naked apart from the ring that twinkles in my belly button and the little white socks I always wear in bed. Lucas looks up at me, then opens his mouth over my right breast and sucks it deep.

  He works my nipple with his tongue until it goes hard in his mouth, then releases it with a pop. I try to focus on what he’s doing, to get myself into the moment. His bare thighs are warm against mine, his thick cock rubbing between my pussy lips; but I have to be honest, it’s not working for me, which is strange, because it more than worked when Scott did it. I try for a moment or so longer before I admit defeat and turn myself round in his lap. I’ve never been one to lie back and take bad sex, and I’m not about to do it now.

  The woman in the film has them both at her mercy now, one licking out her pussy as the other attends to her tits. She looks gloriously aroused, her back arching as she lets the two of them pleasure her. Maybe that’s it, I think to myself, biting into my bottom lip as the man who looks like Scott stops eating her out and starts to fuck her instead.

  Maybe I’m thinking about Scott because what I really want is to be banged by two men. Maybe it isn’t Scott that has me so worked up, but the thought of Scott and Lucas together. The hair on Lucas’s thighs is rough against my legs as I sit back against him, his cock lying firmly against my pussy. He’s stronger than he looks, and he holds me against him easily, one arm taking the weight of my breasts as he teases my aching nipples with his free hand.

  ‘Would you do that?’ he asks, rocking his hips slightly so that his cock rubs over my clit. ‘Make two men fuck you at once?’

  ‘Maybe.’ He’s not the first bloke ever to ask me if I fancy a threesome, but I bet I’m the first woman he’s ever met who hasn’t automatically said no. ‘I’ve been with another woman and a man before.’

  His low groan rumbles through me. ‘Did he please the two of you?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ I reply. ‘More often than not, we pleased each other.’

  ‘You ate pussy?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Did you make him watch?’

  ‘All the time.’

  We both fall silent for a moment after that. I glance down at his cock, and I’m not surprised to see the head glossy with a thick coating of pre-come. This is turning him on. This is seriously turning him on. And I have to admit, as I watch the three of them go at it on the screen, it is doing more than a little for me, too. She’s on her hands and knees now, one of the guys shafting her from behind with slow, easy thrusts so that she can suck the other one’s cock.

  In theory she’s nothing more than a fuck toy for the two of them, but I don’t see it that way. There’s a slow sensuality to it, as if those hard cocks exist solely for her pleasure, as if she is the one in charge, and all I can think is I want that. I want to be the one in control, the one who gets to decide, the centre of attention. It’s the only plausible explanation for my inability to stop thinking about Scott Smithson.

  I think about Scott as I rest my feet on Lucas’s thighs, lifting my bottom until my weight is on his legs and his cock is jutting up into the space, the thick head teasing the entrance to my body. I think about Scott as Lucas digs a condom out of his sweatshirt pocket and tugs it on. I think about Scott as I bend my knees and take Lucas deep inside me, his thick length filling me.

  But I don’t tell Lucas. ‘You want to fuck a girl who needs two men to get her off?’ His breathing is fast, and he slides his hands under my thighs, taking some of my weight, increasing my pace. ‘You dirty boy.’

  His fingers dig deeper into my flesh as his cock grows even harder inside me. I could touch myself, drive myself closer to orgasm, but I don’t. Instead I focus my attention on the screen and the friction of him inside me and wonder what would happen if Scott was here. Would he be disgusted? Would he deliver one of those lectures he likes to give me, in that low, rough voice of his?

  Or would he ride my pussy as Lucas shagged me in the arse, the way the three of them are doing on the screen now? I watch as her eyes cl
ose, her fingers digging into the silken sheets as both men do her at once, her moans of ecstasy thrilling me, and I think why the hell not?

  I slap my clit as Lucas fucks into me and I let my imagination run riot. It takes all the control I have to stop myself from coming, but I do it, holding off right until she hits hers, her body shaking as she silently screams out her victory.

  But my climax isn’t so silent, and try as I might to hold the word in, I can’t. I hit that delicious peak with one thing on my mind and one sharp little word.

  Scott.

  If Lucas hears me, he doesn’t say. He gives one hard thrust, then another, then he pulls out of me, strips off the condom and splatters my belly with come. As I look down at it, patterning my skin, at the swollen head of his still-hard cock, I know that he did, and I know that I can’t deny the truth any longer.

  I’m developing a thing for Scott Smithson.

  Chapter Six

  Three days later, Paul and Victoria get back from their honeymoon. They wander into the office, tanned and smiling and smug, smelling faintly of sun lotion and cocktails. ‘We missed you!’ says Victoria, flinging her arms around me. ‘You should have come with us, babe. It was amazing. The beach was just gorgeous, and the food was to die for.’

  Paul stands behind her, waiting for her to finish, and when she does he lowers his head and kisses me full on the mouth. There’s enough pressure there to let me know what he’s thinking.

  ‘Someone had to stay here and keep the office going,’ I point out, as I shuffle some papers on my desk. ‘Anyway, three’s a crowd.’

  ‘Not for us.’ Paul winks at me. Oh, yes, I know that look. Not that long ago, it would have had me on my knees unzipping his flies, shamelessly eager for a taste. The fact that Victoria was watching would make me wet, knowing that he was hers, but I could still have him.

  Today I feel…unexcited. It’s as if I’m seeing them both through new eyes, as if they’re not the same people they were two weeks ago. Or maybe I’m the one who is different. He’s still the perfect 6’1, with that flop of dark blond hair that falls over his forehead, that same sharp suit, that same smooth salesman’s patter that makes him so good at his job, and she’s still glossy-haired and pouty.

  But all I feel, as I look at the pair of them, is a strange sense of distance. I shrug. ‘Anyone fancy a coffee? I was just about to make one.’

  Victoria’s face creases in confusion. This is clearly not the reaction she was expecting. To be honest, I’m a little surprised myself, but I like the way it feels. I get out of my seat and wander over to the coffee machine and switch it on.

  ‘Amber?’ It’s Victoria who approaches me, her hands twisted together, platinum bands gleaming on her finger. ‘Is everythingOK?’

  How am I supposed to answer that? I dump yesterday’s soggy filter in the bin, shove in a new one and add coffee. ‘Absolutely,’ I reply, though I’m not sure that it is. I’ve hurt her, I can see it. They hurt me too, though I know there is no point telling them that. I switch on the machine, and it hisses and gurgles. ‘Look,’ I say, making myself make eye contact. ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think while you were away, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to be part of this any more.’

  She folds her arms, her eyes suddenly hard. ‘And what about what I want?’

  ‘You got what you wanted,’ I point out. ‘You got Paul. You’re the one with the rings on your finger. And you had me. And it was fun while it lasted, but it’s done now. I’m done.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she says. She turns and glares at Paul. ‘Tell her, Paul!’

  Paul moves in behind her, slides his hands around her waist. I have to admit, I always got a perverse kick out of watching the two of them go at it. But this time it does nothing for me. ‘Amber,’ he says. ‘Remember how much you liked it? Why would you want to stop?’

  And that’s the big question, isn’t it? Why? An image of Scott Smithson flashes into my mind. He’s been in my head more and more over the past few days. I look at Paul, at the man I had been in love with, the man who hadn’t loved me back, who had chosen someone else. I look at Victoria, and I wonder what was so special about her, what it is about her that caught him when I couldn’t. I don’t have the answers. And suddenly it doesn’t matter any more.

  ‘Because I want to fuck someone else,’ I tell them.

  Victoria still looks pissy, but Paul cracks a big grin. ‘You dirty slut,’ he says. ‘Anyone we know?’

  ‘Probably,’ I say. ‘He was at your wedding.’

  Paul is laughing now. ‘Bloody fantastic,’ he says. ‘Only you could be that shameless, Amber.’

  ‘Well I’m not happy about it,’ Victoria snaps. She’s almost vibrating with annoyance, her mouth pinched into a small, hard O, her arms folded so tight her silver bangles are digging into her flesh.

  ‘Come on, darling. Be reasonable,’ Paul says to her. ‘It’s not like you didn’t have fun while we were away. What about that girl we met at the hotel?’

  That’s when I know I was never anything more than a toy. The hurt that I thought was gone reappears with a vengeance, burning my insides. I want to ask if I ever meant anything, but I’m not sure I would like the answer. I march over to my desk and grab my bag, then head for the door. ‘I’m taking an early lunch,’ I tell the pair of them over my shoulder. ‘I’ll be back in an hour.’

  I spend half of that hour wandering aimlessly round the town centre. I buy a custard doughnut and a diet coke, but that doesn’t keep me occupied for long. I don’t want to go back to the office, so instead I go to Ellie’s studio. She waves at me through the window but I can see she’s busy with a client, so I don’t go in.

  I wave back, then I turn to leave. She opens the door and sticks her head out. ‘Amber!’ she calls, a little out of breath. ‘Wait up. I’ve nearly finished.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I tell her, though the offer is tempting. Not long ago, I’d have spilled my guts out to her. We didn’t keep any secrets from each other, or so I thought. But things have changed now, and I’m not sure how to get them back to where they were. And anyway, I can hardly say to her by the way, your brother played with my tits and made me come, and I can’t stop thinking about having sex with him even though I’m having great sex with someone else.

  It doesn’t seem an appropriate topic of conversation, really. So I give her a wave and walk back down to the bustling pedestrianised area and take a seat on one of the cold wrought-iron benches in the square. Pigeons rush up to me but I send them away with a swing of my foot. I’m starting to wish I’d bought two doughnuts instead of just one when someone sits down beside me. I don’t even have to look to know who it is. I’d know that instinctive skin prickle anywhere, even before I recognise the aftershave and hear that low, rough voice.

  ‘Hello, Amber.’

  It’s only been a few days since the last time I saw him, since that moment in his car, since I had sex with Lucas and said his name, but it feels like so much longer. It’s as if that moment was a dividing line, splitting things into the time before I accepted that I want Scott Smithson and the time after I accepted it.

  I want Scott Smithson. I want to do dirty, obscene things to him. The urge is building inside me like an obsession, only it’s nothing like the obsession I had for Paul. It’s deeper, darker, and much, much filthier.

  ‘Scott.’ Just saying that word flashes me straight back to the interior of his BMW. It makes me hot.

  ‘How are you?’

  I cross my legs at the knee, examine my shoe. Nude patent slingbacks today, and flesh-coloured hold-ups that have a little bow at the back of the ankle. ‘Let me see,’ I say. ‘My boss and his new wife just got back from honeymoon and are pissed at me because I don’t want to join in their sex games any more. The last time I got fucked I said your name instead of the name of the guy I was with, and I’ve bought a diet coke and a doughnut for lunch.’

  ‘I see,’ he says.

  I can’t help myself. I burst out lau
ghing. ‘Seriously?’ I glance across at him. ‘That’s it? I see?’

  ‘I’m not sure quite what else I’m supposed to say.’ His gaze falls onto the bakery bag in my hand. There’s a greasy mark on the paper, where the doughnut is nestled, an unhealthy lump of fat and sugar. ‘What sort of doughnut is that?’

  ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘Just curious.’

  Oh, I bet he is. I bet he knows exactly how bad it is for me. I cut him off before he can launch into a lecture about how I need to eat better, how I do four gym classes a week and need to feed my body curly kale and steamed fish. ‘I’m glad to know you’re so interested in my dietary preferences.’

  I start away from him, shocked to find tears pricking at the back of my eyes. I don’t know why I care so much about what he thinks. The cobbles are uneven and I wobble on my heels, but Scott catches me right before my ankle can twist. He turns me to face him. I glare up at him, swallowing down the tears that are thick in the back of my throat. ‘What?’

  ‘Did you really say my name when you were with someone else?’

  ‘Right as I came.’ His grip on me is firm and strong. I’ve been close to him before, but I’ve never been up close like this. He’s even taller than Paul, a powerhouse of a man, strongly built and so bloody masculine. He looks like not even a hurricane could blow him over.

  He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, just long enough for me to see the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheekbones, and for the pale blue of his irises to cause a jolt when he opens them again. ‘Why?’

  I feel like I’ve been answering that question a lot recently. Only this time, I don’t lie when I answer. ‘Because I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to fuck you. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.’

  He’s breathing a little faster now, and his grip on my arm is tighter. ‘I don’t like this,’ he says.

  ‘I don’t like it either,’ I tell him. ‘But there it is. I’m attracted to you. And after what happened in your car the other night, I think you’re attracted to me too.’ I lay a hand on the front of his shirt. I can feel the strong thump of his heart against my palm. It’s calming, somehow, reassuring. A reminder that in amongst all this mess, there’s something strong and constant and alive.