tell you what to do with that Philips account?”
After some mind-numbing businessy stuff, she volunteered to make a fancy-coffee run. She hated going on the fancy-coffee run—being responsible for everyone’s inane orders and for bringing them back without spilling them was not her idea of fun. But it would give her some unobserved time to text while in line.
She hoped there was a line.
There was a line. And a couple texts waiting for her.
Melanie ignored her sister’s plaintive messages and focused on crafting her response to Will.
It was ridiculous, the amount of time she spent thinking about her answers these days. Long gone were the enthusiastic Hell yeah s or the regretful I have other plans tonight s. Now she had to actually think, plan, prepare her responses.
It was perilously close to the kind of maneuvers one took when one was being courted by a handsome gentleman. And that thought had her chewing her lip and getting nudged by the impatient suit behind her.
While Melanie waited for the innumerable half-caf, agave, no-whip, extra-foam bullshit orders from her coworkers—ha, wonder what the sex code would be like in coffee, not pizza, form?—she typed in her reply.
I guess that’s cool .
I guess that’s cool? Two hours worth of worrying it over in her mind and all she’d managed to reply with was “I guess that’s cool”?
She was in so much trouble.
Chapter 2
W ill Harris was in so much trouble.
Mel hadn’t texted in hours, and, when she did, it wasn’t the response he’d expected. She usually jumped on a cheese and Star Wars night order. It was the perfect night, really. He loved their wild and crazy times together, sure, but the quiet, easy nights were perfect.
We can scrap the pizza. Think I’m watching the game. Come on over if you feel like it.
There. That was a good one. Unobtrusive. Safe. It would leave what came next entirely up to her, because if she came over with zero expectations, that would make what came next easier. For him, at any rate. Because he wasn’t quite sure how to broach the “come over for an almost-threesome” topic.
Not that they hadn’t talked about it. Obsessively fantasized about it together. Some of the hottest sex they’d had were the times he’d pull her hair back and talk dirty in her ear. “You want someone to see us like this? See you with your ass high in the air, begging for my cock?” She’d clench tight around him when he directed her to imagine their imaginary voyeur jacking off as he watched Will pound into her sweet pussy from behind.
But as many times as they’d both come to the idea of being watched—enthusiastically—they had never agreed on a plan of action. No potential order for when the big day came. The pizza toppings started out as a joke and then just became shorthand. A sly reminder of their secret.
But it wouldn’t be a secret much longer if Melanie came over tonight while their new neighbor Judd was over. Because Judd had agreed to watch.
Tonight, if it suited them.
It had come as a surprise. They were friendly with each other—there were only four apartments that shared the breezeway in their building. But Judd traveled a lot. Medical sales. His apartment seemed more a crashpad than a home. But last month he and Judd had gone to a few playoff games together—Judd had access to a deluxe corporate box—and Judd had come out with them for Melanie’s twenty-fourth birthday.
But this morning when Will was over helping Judd assemble a bookcase, he’d gone to grab Judd’s toolbox. Only to grab a toolbox full of kinky shit, not tools.
He’d been so excited, trying to play it cool. But finding out Judd’s kinky secret was like discovering his neighbor was an angel from heaven. No, not an angel, because that shit was anything but angelic. More like a superhero. A mild-mannered medical salesman by day, Master of Kink by night.
And the answer to his and Melanie’s kinky dreams.
He and Mel had engaged in some
After some mind-numbing businessy stuff, she volunteered to make a fancy-coffee run. She hated going on the fancy-coffee run—being responsible for everyone’s inane orders and for bringing them back without spilling them was not her idea of fun. But it would give her some unobserved time to text while in line.
She hoped there was a line.
There was a line. And a couple texts waiting for her.
Melanie ignored her sister’s plaintive messages and focused on crafting her response to Will.
It was ridiculous, the amount of time she spent thinking about her answers these days. Long gone were the enthusiastic Hell yeah s or the regretful I have other plans tonight s. Now she had to actually think, plan, prepare her responses.
It was perilously close to the kind of maneuvers one took when one was being courted by a handsome gentleman. And that thought had her chewing her lip and getting nudged by the impatient suit behind her.
While Melanie waited for the innumerable half-caf, agave, no-whip, extra-foam bullshit orders from her coworkers—ha, wonder what the sex code would be like in coffee, not pizza, form?—she typed in her reply.
I guess that’s cool .
I guess that’s cool? Two hours worth of worrying it over in her mind and all she’d managed to reply with was “I guess that’s cool”?
She was in so much trouble.
Chapter 2
W ill Harris was in so much trouble.
Mel hadn’t texted in hours, and, when she did, it wasn’t the response he’d expected. She usually jumped on a cheese and Star Wars night order. It was the perfect night, really. He loved their wild and crazy times together, sure, but the quiet, easy nights were perfect.
We can scrap the pizza. Think I’m watching the game. Come on over if you feel like it.
There. That was a good one. Unobtrusive. Safe. It would leave what came next entirely up to her, because if she came over with zero expectations, that would make what came next easier. For him, at any rate. Because he wasn’t quite sure how to broach the “come over for an almost-threesome” topic.
Not that they hadn’t talked about it. Obsessively fantasized about it together. Some of the hottest sex they’d had were the times he’d pull her hair back and talk dirty in her ear. “You want someone to see us like this? See you with your ass high in the air, begging for my cock?” She’d clench tight around him when he directed her to imagine their imaginary voyeur jacking off as he watched Will pound into her sweet pussy from behind.
But as many times as they’d both come to the idea of being watched—enthusiastically—they had never agreed on a plan of action. No potential order for when the big day came. The pizza toppings started out as a joke and then just became shorthand. A sly reminder of their secret.
But it wouldn’t be a secret much longer if Melanie came over tonight while their new neighbor Judd was over. Because Judd had agreed to watch.
Tonight, if it suited them.
It had come as a surprise. They were friendly with each other—there were only four apartments that shared the breezeway in their building. But Judd traveled a lot. Medical sales. His apartment seemed more a crashpad than a home. But last month he and Judd had gone to a few playoff games together—Judd had access to a deluxe corporate box—and Judd had come out with them for Melanie’s twenty-fourth birthday.
But this morning when Will was over helping Judd assemble a bookcase, he’d gone to grab Judd’s toolbox. Only to grab a toolbox full of kinky shit, not tools.
He’d been so excited, trying to play it cool. But finding out Judd’s kinky secret was like discovering his neighbor was an angel from heaven. No, not an angel, because that shit was anything but angelic. More like a superhero. A mild-mannered medical salesman by day, Master of Kink by night.
And the answer to his and Melanie’s kinky dreams.
He and Mel had engaged in some
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