Gifting Me To His Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo)

After we eat lunch, Derek has to take his turn wrangling the airline, and then we all end up on the couch watching a movie. It’s some artsy type of thing that both Derek and Grayson are into, and I end up falling asleep against Derek’s side. I must move at some point, because when I wake up, I’m lying on the couch with my head on his thigh, his hand heavy on my hip.

I blink my eyes open to find him and Grayson making out again, and I bite my lip because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this will never get old. My shifting must clue them in on the fact that I’m awake because Derek reaches down to cup my pussy without missing a beat. He spears me with two fingers even as Grayson delves his hands into Derek’s pants and starts jacking him. I reach up and grab his wrist. “It’s time.”

It’s a token of how well we know each other that no further explanation is needed. Without another word, we take ourselves to our bedroom.

I pause in the doorway, a flutter of nerves alighting in my stomach. I know what comes next, and I want it more than anything, but what if we fuck it up and ruin things with Derek? I look at Grayson, but for once he doesn’t anticipate me. He’s too focused on Derek. My husband considers him. “We’re both going to fuck you.”

Derek gives a faint grin. “Sure.” For all his attempt at smiling, his shoulders are tight and he seems almost jumpy. As if maybe, like me, he just realized that this is a new step past the point of no return. And, just like that, my nerves fall away. I want to make Derek feel good, to make him feel valued.

To make him feel loved.

I cross the few steps between us and slide my hands up his chest to loop around his neck. “Hey.”

He exhales slowly and catches my hips. “Hey.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

His lips quirk into a small, but very real smile. “It has nothing to do with not wanting to, and everything to do with after.”

After this is over.

I open my mouth to ask if there needs to be an after, but Grayson cuts in before the words can emerge. He grasps the backs of both our necks and kisses first me and then Derek. Then he urges us to kiss.

How many times has Derek’s mouth been on mine in the last twenty-four hours? More than a few. This kiss feels different. It’s harsh and desperate and I sink into it even as I feel Grayson take my robe off and then move around to slide down Derek’s pants.

Derek backs me up to the bed and we tumble onto the mattress in a mass of questing hands and needy bodies. And still we don’t stop kissing. I let the worries about after slide away as he rolls onto his back and takes me with him, until I’m straddling his wide stomach.

Distantly, I can hear Grayson walking into the bathroom, but Derek grips my ass and rocks me against his stomach and I can’t focus. I moan against his mouth and try to get closer.

The mattress dips as my husband joins us, moving to kneel behind me. His lips coast a path down my spine, and he nips my ass before his touch disappears and Derek jerks. I know even without looking that Grayson has his mouth around Derek’s cock. As tempting as it is to sit up and look back so I can watch, this is a seduction. If things go well, I’ll have countless opportunities of watching these two men together. For now, I’ll have to be a little less greedy.

Except it doesn’t feel less greedy as I writhe in Derek’s strong arms. It feels like heaven.

Grayson grabs my hips and pulls me back. It breaks the contact of our kiss and I whimper in protest. My husband hooks me around the waist and urges me up until my back presses to his chest. Grayson cups my breasts and Derek arches up to capture first one nipple and then the other. I’m bracketed in by these two and I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment.

“Are you feeling needy, wife?” Grayson shifts one hand to grip Derek’s hair, holding his face against my breasts. “Are you craving Derek’s big cock in your pretty pussy?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.”

“And you, Derek?” His voice goes lower and rougher. “Are you feeling empty, too?”

Derek lifts his head and looks over my shoulder to meet Grayson’s gaze. “Fuck yes.”

“Good.” My husband urges me back a little more and then reaches down to wrap a fist around Derek’s cock. He guides the other man into me and, fuck, this feels like a whole different level. I don’t even know why. It’s no more filthy than anything else we’ve already done. It doesn’t seem to matter what should be, only what is.

I have to work myself down Derek’s cock, but eventually I seal us together. That’s when Grayson leans around and grabs a pillow. “Up, Derek.”

Derek lifts his hips and I have to plant my hands on his stomach to keep my balance as Grayson wedges the pillow below him. I understand why the second I look back and watch my husband adjust his grip on the bottle of lube in his hand. He meets my gaze and lifts his brows. “Need something?”

“This angle is terrible for watching you fuck his ass.”

Grayson laughs and gives my hip a squeeze. “Next time. Now be a good girl and ride his cock.”

I am hardly ever a good girl, but his words light a fire inside me. I turn back to find Derek watching me closely. There’s something in his eyes, something soft and warm that feels like a hook in my chest. I reach down and take his hands, lacing our fingers together, and guide them up to either side of his head. The new position leaves me entirely pressed against him and it’s the most natural thing in the world to kiss him again.

I can feel the moment Grayson starts working his cock into Derek’s ass. The man beneath me goes tense for one long moment and then sighs against my mouth and relaxes completely. His hands clench mine, a firm reminder that I’m not actually pinning him at all. That he’s allowing this. I move on his cock in agonizingly slow strokes, wanting this moment to last. Needing it to last.

Grayson grips my hip with one hand, an anchor of sorts to keep me from floating away completely. Pleasure builds in slow waves, our breathing and the soft sounds of fucking filling the room.

Then my husband grabs my shoulder and pulls me up until he’s once against pressed against my back. The difference is that he’s fucking Derek this time. Grayson strokes his hands down my sides and then over Derek’s stomach. “He feels good, doesn’t he, wife?”

“Yes,” I moan.

Grayson’s voice goes deeper yet. “He feels like ours.”

Derek looks up at us, and this time there’s no denying that his heart is in his eyes. He looks at us like we’re a feast he’ll never be able to partake in. Like we’re something distant instead of right here with him. He grasps my hips. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Even if I mean it?” Grayson thrusts hard, lifting both Derek and me a few inches. We all moan in response. Too good. Is it possible for a thing to be too good? Surely it can’t last.

Except I want to find out if it can.

Derek doesn’t answer, and it’s just as well. We devolve into beasts, fucking mindlessly. He thrusts up into me with every stroke Grayson makes, gripping my hips so tightly, I suspect I’ll have a constellation of bruises from his fingertips. I relish the pinpricks of pain, relish the knowledge that I’ll be carrying around a little physical memory from this moment. Grayson snakes a hand around my waist and down to stroke my clit. Always seeing to my needs, even while balls deep in Derek.

I come apart with a cry. Grayson bears me down to Derek’s chest and then he’s kissing him as Derek releases inside me. Grayson pulls out a bare second before he comes in great spurts across my ass.

We lay there panting for several long moments. The room seems to be doing a lazy spin around me, but Derek’s chest is wonderfully solid beneath my cheek.

Grayson gives us another minute before he hauls all three of us into the bathroom and we take turns in the shower. Through it all, a strange sort of tension rises. We’ve had easy silences before, more than I can begin to count.

This isn’t that.

Worry rakes hot claws through my stomach as I towel dry my hair. They still haven’t said anything. Even though I know better—sometimes when Grayson is working through a particularly complex problem at work he needs time and space alone—I blurt, “Would someone please say something?”

“Nothing to say.” Derek finishing drying off and hangs up his towel. Without another word, he walks out of the bathroom. I listen to his footsteps cross our bedroom, the soft sound of him pulling on his pants, and the door shutting softly behind him.

I turn to look at my husband. “What was that?”

Grayson wraps his towel around his waist. “He’s putting distance between us.”

“No, shit. Why?”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “It hurts too much to do anything else. Derek lives by the rule that it’s better to leave before people leave him. I don’t think he’s been dumped once in the time I’ve known him. Maybe his first girlfriend, though I couldn’t say for sure.”

I frown. “We’re not going to let him get away with that.”

“Emma, give the man some space.”

That’s what Grayson has done over the years. Over and over again, and I suspect that’s why they never sealed the deal before now. Well, that’s not how I operate. I step to him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m going to go get him.”

“Emma,” Grayson warns.

I walk out of the bathroom and peek out the window. “It looks like the snow has stopped. We don’t have much time.”

“Baby, some things aren’t meant to be.”

I know him well enough to recognize the undertones of fear in his voice. My husband is just as fucking terrified as Derek seems to be. I understand, though I don’t have the history of quite as much baggage as they bring to this. Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it means I can see things clearest of us all.

I cup Grayson’s face in my hands. “You love him.”

“Emma—”

I kiss him again. “It’s okay. Give me some time to talk to Derek and let’s see what I can do.”

“Talk, huh?” Some humor creeps into his tone.

I smile a little. “Sometimes talking and fucking go hand in hand, husband. You know that. It’s how you snagged me.”

“That’s the damn truth.” He sighs. “Okay. You’re probably right. I’m not… I’m not thinking clearly right now.”

I give him one last kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After some quick consideration, I pull on my silk robe and walk to Derek’s bedroom. The door is unlocked, which is all the invitation I need to turn the knob and step inside. The room is identical to ours, positioned to maximize the view of the mountains with a giant king sized bed and large bathroom. Derek sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He barely looks up as I shut the door and lean against it. “I need some space.”

“It’s not going to do you any good.”

That makes him actually look at me. “Easy for you to say.”

“It’s really not.” I walk to him, stopping a few inches shy of his knees. He’s tall enough—or I’m short enough—that our positions put his head nearly in line with my chest. But he’s not ogling my breasts right now. He’s staring up at me as if I contain the answers he’s afraid to ask for.

Because I do.

But Grayson’s right; I can’t come at this head on. If Derek is feeling skittish enough to flee when the glow has barely worn off from some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life, then he’s likely to jump out the window and start hiking down to the lodge if I press him now.

Seduction.

What we need is seduction.