privileges for the sole purpose of feeling
closer to him. She ran her hands over the shirt she’d borrowed, imagining that
they were his hands, hugging herself, picturing his big, strong arms around
her.
For a guy, his place, decorated in
black, white and shades of gray, was relatively neat and tidy. His king-sized
bed was made up with crisp white linens that smelled fresh and clean. She
ventured into his bathroom, uncapped his cologne and sniffed in his familiar
scent, ran her fingers over the bristles of his toothbrush, clutched the towel
on the rack and imagined it wrapped around his hips.
Get a grip, Annie. Moving
back to the bedroom, she threw herself onto his bed, rolling over and over. She
pulled the covers back and tucked herself in, laying her head on his pillow.
Closing her eyes, she pretended that Matt was there with her, around her,
inside her.
The next thing she knew, she was
being roused by a deep male voice.
* * * * *
“Thanks again for picking me up at
the airport.” Matt grabbed his carryon from the trunk of Peter’s car. “Wanna
come up for a beer?”
“Sure.” Peter followed him through
the lot, his work boots scuffing the ground. “Nice you came back a day early.”
“Yeah?”
“Saturday night ahead,” Peter
explained. “I’ve been gettin’ the itch.”
Ah. Matt smiled at his
buddy. He’d known Peter for a few years, had met him through mutual friends.
When they’d first started hanging out, Matt thought Peter was around mostly to
pick up Matt’s castoffs. Peter Nash wasn’t an unattractive mutt, he just wasn’t
the most charming guy in the world. They were different men, but Matt found
that they got along well. Plus, Peter had saved his butt from a jealous
boyfriend on more than one occasion.
One night they’d been out at a club
and Matt had reeled in a voluptuous brunette while Peter was still struggling.
It was last call and the three of them walked outside. The brunette had taken a
look at the both of them, then grasped both of their hands. “Let’s go, boys,”
she’d said.
The fucking had been phenomenal.
Since then, every couple months or so they’d find a willing female to debauch
for the night. They were a good pair—Matt charmed the panties off the woman and
Peter could get down and dirty with her instead of going home alone. That way,
they all got what they were looking for—crazy-hot sex, sometimes shockingly
hot.
It was a win, win, win.
They headed up the stairs. “Anyone
special in mind?” Matt asked.
Peter laughed. “Nah. You know me,
man. I’m not particular. Just do your thing and be your charming self, buddy.”
Matt laughed with him as they
passed Annie Sloan’s door. His cock twitched at the thought of the tall redhead
who lived next door to him. Many times he had considered changing up their
relationship, but it was nice to have a woman friend. A woman friend who made
his cock twitch.
As he reached for his keys, he
recalled the morning that Annie had caught him and Peter seeing off their
Saturday night conquest. Since then, the air had changed between them. It was
thicker, tense. Filled with possibilities.
He was reasonably certain that he
could have her. It was obvious from the way she looked at him. But would sweet
Annie Sloan be interested in a three-way? And could tonight be the night?
Inside, Matt said, “There’s beer in
the fridge. Help yourself.” He made his way back to his bedroom and stepped
inside. Froze. He set his bag down quietly.
There was a woman sleeping in his
bed. A sexy redhead. My, my. It was sweet Annie Sloan herself. What was
she doing in his bed? And from the looks of things, wearing one of his shirts?
Matt crept closer, picking up her
discarded shorts, top and panties and placing them on top of his dresser. Could
it be that Annie had been having the same thoughts that he had?
Apparently so. He smiled, totally
not caring that she was in his condo, in his bed while he was supposed to be
away. In fact, she
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