Brian was involved. She couldn’t fathom how Brian managed to keep his feelings out of the mix. The guy normally tossed his heart around like a hacky sack.
Because her thoughts were racing with the perplexity of her husband’s complicated relationship with his best friend, it took Myrna forever to find release. Her clit didn’t stand a chance against the Jacuzzi jets no matter how hard she was finding it to concentrate. They reached orgasm together and then relaxed in the water to collect their breaths. Resting with her back against Brian’s chest, she traced the tattoos on his forearm with one finger. She wasn’t insecure about his feelings for her, but she definitely wanted to keep his attention, no matter what it took.
“Would you be against me getting my clit pierced?” she asked.
Behind her, Brian’s body tensed. “What? Where did that come from?”
There was no way she was going to tell him what was going through her head. She wanted his attention drawn away from Trey, not toward him.
She gazed down at her reddened nipples. They were a little raw, but still fully aroused. “I really like my nipple jewelry. I thought it might be sexy to connect it to a piercing in my clit.”
“That would be sexy,” he said breathlessly. “Are you going to get it done?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I just wondered if you’d like it.”
“I’d like it.” He kissed her shoulder and his arms tightened around her waist from behind. “I like everything about you.”
“Are you sure?” God, she sounded needy. She suddenly wanted to punch herself in the teeth.
“I’m sure.”
She believed him, but he could probably use another distraction to seal the deal. She definitely could. “Are you ready for me to fuck your ass now?” she asked.
His body jerked unexpectedly. “Uh, not yet.”
“Did you change your mind?” She turned her head to look up at him. “You don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to try it. Later. Right now I just want to hold you. I’m exhausted.”
She relaxed against him. She was being silly. He wasn’t thinking about Trey. It was their wedding night, and he was thinking about her. She was the one who’d been fixating on the guy all day and it needed to stop. She needed to stop.
“This is nice,” she said.
“Perfect,” he murmured.
Myrna’s eyelids grew heavy. The next thing she knew, the water was cold and Brian was snoring softly near her ear. She shifted, and he took a startled breath as he regained consciousness. He rubbed his face with both wet hands. “Shit, did we fall asleep?”
She looked down at her hands with dismay. “I’m all pruney,” she said, moving away from him so she could climb out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around her body and handed one to Brian, who was stumbling around in the tub like a drunk.
“Are you okay?”
He pulled the plug, and the water started to drain. “Cold and stiff.”
She smiled. “I’ll warm you up and make you extra stiff. It’s time for an actual bed to make an appearance on our wedding night.”
“Give me a minute alone in here to get ready for you,” he said.
She knew what that meant: he was ready to participate in her latest experiment with kink. Ah, the man was made for her.
She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him deeply and then pulled away to look in his eyes. “Any time you want me to stop, I will. I know you’d do the same for me.”
“I trust you, Professor.”
She left him in the bathroom and went to collect everything she’d need to live her dirtiest fantasy with her husband. Well, her dirtiest fantasy to date. She’d think up some new ones soon.
In the bedroom, she tossed back the covers and laid all her tools out in a neat row. She wasn’t just going to take Brian—she was going to build his desire until he begged her to possess him.
When he joined her, he eyed her implements curiously. “What are you planning to do to me, woman?”
She drew her hand down the length of the small black dildo strapped over her pubis with a harness. “Fuck you properly.”
At her confident words, his cock stirred.
Interesting.
“Lie on your back in the center of the bed,” she instructed.
“Wouldn’t it be easier—”
“Brian.”
He did as she asked. She crawled up between his bent legs and licked his balls until he was rock hard and panting with excitement. Settling a pillow under his butt to angle his hips for easier access, she then reached for the smallest butt plug, the one he was used to and she knew he liked. Still sucking on his sac, she lubricated the plug and touched it to his ass. He gasped. He wasn’t usually this tense. She lifted her head and sucked his cock into her throat, inserting the plug in the same instant. He shuddered hard, drawing ragged breaths through his teeth. She massaged the end of the plug, moving it around inside him to open him wider. He relaxed and groaned in pleasure. She popped the plug free and reached for one that was quite a bit larger and longer. She lubed his passage with two fingers and then coated the plug. There was some resistance to this one; his body wasn’t used to something so thick. She released his cock from her mouth.
“Relax, baby,” she crooned. “Relax.”
The instant he relaxed, she shoved. He whimpered.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
When his only response was a series of jerky breaths, she grew concerned. “Brian?”
“God, why does that hurt so good?”
“That’s a little thicker than my dildo,” she told him. “Do you like it?”
“Y-yes.”
“What do you want me to do to you?”
“Suck me.”
Not quite the request she was looking for, but she complied. She took his cock in her mouth again, giving extra attention to the rim by bumping her lips over it. His stomach tightened as he neared orgasm. She pulled the thick plug from ass, and he cried out in protest.
“Oh please,” he gasped.
“Please what?”
“Please put it back in.”
“What do you want me to do to you?”
He lifted his head from the pillow to look at her. His face was flushed, his eyes glassy. “Fuck me, Myrna.”
She grabbed the dildo strapped over her mound and moved up his body. She pressed the head of the small phallus against his ass, staring into his eyes as she slowly possessed him. His body broke out into a sweat as she slid deeper.
“Okay?” she asked, brushing a hand over his flushed cheek.
His breath came in hard, harsh gasps. “I can’t decide if I like it. Go a little deeper.” When she complied, his eyelids fluttered. “Oh, yes, I like it.”
She claimed him slowly at first, rocking her hips. His hard cock brushed against her belly; pre-cum dripped from the tip. With one hand clutched in the sheet beneath him, he grabbed his shaft in his other hand and stroked his length in time with her thrusts. He was definitely liking this. Far more than she’d anticipated. Maybe he’d always wanted to be taken this way—long before he’d met her.
“Who are you thinking about?” she asked as she pulled back and pushed forward again. She filled him completely, grinding her hips until he moaned. “Brian.”
“Huh?”
“Who are you thinking about?”
“Don’t stop. I’m close.”
She could see that. She pulled back and thrust forward, taking him hard and deep and fast.
“Are you thinking about Trey while I fuck your ass?” she asked.
His eyes flipped open, and he pinned her with an incredulous stare. “Why the fuck would I be thinking about Trey?”
She wished she’d swallowed the question instead of throwing it out there between them, especially now, when he was so vulnerable. But since she’d already introduced the subject, it was time to tell him how Trey really felt about him and to find out if deep inside himself, Brian
felt any of the same emotions.
“I need to tell you something,” she said.
“Tell me what?”
She took a deep breath. “Trey—”
A loud pounding banged at the suite’s door. Brian tensed and turned his head, staring with wide eyes. “What the hell was that?”
“Shh, shh. It’s nothing. They’ll go away.”
The knocking intensified. Brian stared anxiously toward the door, as if expecting it to fly off its hinges.
“Brian! Open the door!” Sed called from the other side.
Brian’s cock immediately went soft and his body tense.
“Dammit,” Myrna cursed.
“Let me up,” he said, looking like he was about to throw up.
She pulled out of him.
He stumbled out of bed and grabbed a towel to wrap around his narrow hips. Myrna took a hotel robe from the closet and wrapped it around her body to hide what was going on below her waist. She wondered what Sed would think of her makeshift boner. Not that she would ever tell anyone about her experimentation with Brian. Not even Trey. Especially not Trey. And because her husband liked being taken in the ass, it made the guy even more of threat. Didn’t it? Or maybe it made him less of a threat because Brian had given her what he’d never given to Trey. Hell, she didn’t know what to think, so she concentrated on something slightly less exasperating—Sed’s interruption.
“The guys are probably just playing a joke on us,” she said.
“I’m going to fucking kill them all,” Brian said. On his way to the door, Brian bumped into the untouched room service cart and careened into the wall, cursing under his breath and rubbing his knee.
Regaining his footing and his hold on his towel, he yanked the door open. “This better be important.”
“Is that Sed?” Myrna asked. She peeked around Brian to find Sed standing at the threshold, his ex-fiancée, Jessica, at his side.
Myrna grinned. Her plan to get them back together was already working.
“You two should get your own room. We’re using every inch of ours.” Myrna poked the five-inch strap-on against the back of Brian’s leg to remind him which inches they’d been using most recently.
Sed didn’t smile. If fact, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. Myrna didn’t know the man was capable of looking that miserable.
Sed took a deep shuddering breath and blurted, “It’s Trey.”
Myrna’s buoyant heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Brian sagged against her. She hadn’t expected Brian to need her to be his rock so soon, but she could be that for him. His rock.
Chapter Nine
The trip to the hospital was bad enough for Brian without him having to endure Jessica Chase’s presence in their taxi. Not only had the fight that put Trey in the hospital started because of her, the woman turned Sed into a complete asshole. Well, her leaving him had. And Brian was in no mood to be in the same country as her, much less the same vehicle. Perhaps he was focusing on his intense dislike for the woman—more precisely his hatred of the woman’s effect on his friend’s intellect—more than on Trey’s injuries because thinking about losing his best friend made him want to vomit. Or scream. Or cry. Or break something. Sitting calmly in the back seat of a cab wasn’t going so well for him.
A cold sweat trickled down the center of his back, and every muscle in his body ached from the tension about to destroy him. If Myrna hadn’t been gripping his hand, he very likely would have lost his mind.
When the cab stopped in front of the hospital entrance, Sed and Jessica hopped out immediately, but Myrna refused to budge.
He looked at her in question, needing to hurry.
“He’ll be all right,” Myrna said calmly, stroking the hair from his face. “I know this is tearing you up inside, but you can’t let Trey see you like this. He’s going to think the Grim Reaper is standing over his bed. You can fall apart later, I promise. But be strong for him now.”
Brian didn’t know if he could effectively hide his turmoil, his anguish, his fucking helplessness, but Myrna was right. He had to pretend to be confident that Trey was going to pull through unscathed, because the alternative was too horrendous to bear. Even the thought was crippling.
He nodded. “I’ll keep it together somehow.”
“I’m here. You can lean on me, okay?”
He nodded mutely. He wondered how she knew how much he needed to hear that.
“I love you,” she said, not waiting for his answering sentiment before she climbed out of the cab.
He’d really needed to hear that too.
Trey was in high spirits when they finally entered his room ten or twelve centuries later. The time blocks had probably been minutes, but each had felt at least a hundred years long. Brian pretended that Trey’s head injury wasn’t serious—grand mal seizures weren’t all that bad, were they?—and joked around with him only because any other action would have reduced him to a blubbering idiot. Trey hooked two fingers into Brian’s front pocket and clung to it the entire visit, so Brian was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one faking calm and collectedness. Brian managed to keep up pretenses until the brain surgeon shooed them out of Trey’s room and Myrna wrapped her arms around him in the waiting room down the hall.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“N-no,” he said. “I said it would serve him right if it turned out to be something serious, and now…” He swallowed the sob trying to choke him.
“You didn’t mean that, sweetheart. You know you didn’t.”
He hadn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d said it. And it had happened.
It had happened.
Oh God.
Brian crushed Myrna against him and turned to face the wall so no one would see the tears swimming in his eyes. He tried to stop them from falling, but his effort was as effectual as trying to stop the sun from setting. He did manage not to weep, by sucking air through the paralyzing fear squeezing his throat like a vice.
When the rest of Trey’s support team entered the waiting room, Brian pushed Myrna away and wiped his damnably leaky eyes on the hem of his T-shirt. Jessica entered with Sed, and Brian clung to the anger he felt toward the woman. Anger would keep the tears at bay. Compared to anguish, anger was an easy emotion for him to deal with.
So as he sat beside Myrna waiting for Trey to come out of surgery, he allowed himself to stew. Whenever he found his mind wandering to Trey and how much he would lose if that man was ripped from his life, Brian glared at Jessica sleeping peacefully against Sed’s shoulder and welcomed his aggravation at her reappearance in Sed’s life. For hours Brian focused on all the trouble the woman had caused—Sed’s grief and sleeplessness and his fucking callous disregard for Brian’s emotional entanglements with women. The fight at his bachelor party had started because of her. Everything bad thing that had happened to Brian in the past twenty-four hours—Hell, in the past two years—was Jessica’s fault. His argument with Myrna last night. Trey’s head injury. The black eyes Brian had sported on his fucking wedding day. Sed’s damaged throat. All of it—Jessica’s fucking fault.
Brian clung to his hatred for the woman like a security blanket. His disgust was the only thing that kept him from curling into fetal position under his uncomfortable chair and sobbing.
He had himself worked up into a fine fury toward the strawberry-blond bombshell by the time the doctor came into the waiting room to announce that Trey had made it through his surgery.
When the doctor said, “Brain injuries are tricky,” Brian knew he wasn’t going to hold it together much longer. Either he was going to have to hit something or he was going to fall apart in front of his new wife, his band mates, one of his rock heroes—Trey’s older brother, Dare—and that fucking pain in the ass, Jessica Chase. He was in no shape to sit waiting for Trey’s anesthesia to wear off, and his brilliant wife—bless her—seemed to recognize that.
“Brian and I will come back at eight a.m.,” she said, bossing around rock s
tars as only she could.
Eight? Yes, that should give Brian enough time to get his head together, and maybe Trey would be ready for company by then.