Read Online Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) by Avery Aster - Free Book Online
Authors: Avery Aster
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cheerful, flirty giggle. Often, she’d close her eyes, shaking her head so strands of dark hair hid her face. Embarrassed, she’d cover her mouth, trying to be delicate, and then all of a sudden release a faint snort.
Adorable. Sì , even sounds made by her nose I found endearing.
Usually the snort would cause Rocco and me to laugh alongside her.
Before she got sick, her brown eyes, like chocolate diamonds, had this brilliance to them. I’d give anything to see that twinkle again. Anything!
The name of the club alone should’ve told us the place would be out of the ordinary.
At the checkpoint, the final inner doorway, a man standing shorter than Rocco and myself was dressed as some kind of Minotaur and sported a bull mask over his face. Other than the two shiny horns jutting off the top of his head, he didn’t have anything else on. He had a nice body. Not as fit as Rocco’s, but then again no one was.
“Give me your clothes, please. Keep your cell phones with you at all times. If you get lost you may text each other,” instructed the attendant. He also gave us a map of the place, a small piece of paper illustrating the layout of the club. “Once you’re ready to leave, show me your claim number and I’ll retrieve your items.”
“ Grazie ,” I said as he gave us each a thin, metallic gold wristband with a number on it. Mine read ‘1,001’. I wondered if that was the number of people who’d gone into the labyrinth that night. This place seemed popular enough to have over a thousand visitors.
Stripping down, Jemma kept her shoes and panties on and strapped her cell phone around her wrist with a strap.
“You look beautiful, dolce .” My mouth curved wide into a smile.
“My darling, would it be okay if I kept my foundation garments on?” she asked the Minotaur and turned herself around for his approval.
“Sure,” he replied, eyeing her enthusiastically.
Since her treatment, Jemma had become self-conscious. I couldn’t blame her, but she always appeared perfect. At least to me.
Silhouetted against the amber lights, she appeared striking. With legs which went for miles and to-die-for abs, it was easy to see why they called her ‘ Tono’ after her toned figure, back when she’d modeled.
She adjusted the straps on her bra, and for the first time in ages gazed up at me with a sexual wanting on her face, right before demanding, “Get naked, amore .”
In approval, I laughed and stripped down to a pair of sandals the Minotaur had given me. I had no problem showing off my assets. Whether at the gym or perhaps even there at Circus Bazaar, I enjoyed the attention. I worked out, ate right, and took care of myself, so why shouldn’t I?
Friends say I did it to keep Jemma and Rocco interested, and maybe there was some truth to that. But I also did it for myself. Looking good is feeling good.
Jemma approached, her dark eyes intent and focused. It reminded me of earlier when we were on the plane and her nipples had become erect. I was happy to think that maybe, just maybe, she was coming around again. Cupping my nuts in her hands, she kissed me. “I want you to stay nice and hard all night, amore .” Gently, she stroked my shaft.
A tremble rocketed through my body. I couldn’t remember the last time Jemma had touched me. It took all of my might to resist the urge to bend her over the Minotaur’s podium and fuck her, right there and then. But on the plane ride over to Berlin, Rocco and I had agreed we’d make Jemma beg for our sex that time.
That’s right. We’d hatched a plan to make her crave us as never before.
Rocco had said, “They call it reverse psychology. We’ll sex Jemma up, then right when she gets all moaning and groaning, we turn it off.”
“ Bello , that’s cruel,” I’d argued. “And who is they?”
“My nonno. ”
“You discuss us with your grandfather?”
“ Sì , I talk to my nonno about everything. He says the more we resist her, the more she’ll want
Adorable. Sì , even sounds made by her nose I found endearing.
Usually the snort would cause Rocco and me to laugh alongside her.
Before she got sick, her brown eyes, like chocolate diamonds, had this brilliance to them. I’d give anything to see that twinkle again. Anything!
The name of the club alone should’ve told us the place would be out of the ordinary.
At the checkpoint, the final inner doorway, a man standing shorter than Rocco and myself was dressed as some kind of Minotaur and sported a bull mask over his face. Other than the two shiny horns jutting off the top of his head, he didn’t have anything else on. He had a nice body. Not as fit as Rocco’s, but then again no one was.
“Give me your clothes, please. Keep your cell phones with you at all times. If you get lost you may text each other,” instructed the attendant. He also gave us a map of the place, a small piece of paper illustrating the layout of the club. “Once you’re ready to leave, show me your claim number and I’ll retrieve your items.”
“ Grazie ,” I said as he gave us each a thin, metallic gold wristband with a number on it. Mine read ‘1,001’. I wondered if that was the number of people who’d gone into the labyrinth that night. This place seemed popular enough to have over a thousand visitors.
Stripping down, Jemma kept her shoes and panties on and strapped her cell phone around her wrist with a strap.
“You look beautiful, dolce .” My mouth curved wide into a smile.
“My darling, would it be okay if I kept my foundation garments on?” she asked the Minotaur and turned herself around for his approval.
“Sure,” he replied, eyeing her enthusiastically.
Since her treatment, Jemma had become self-conscious. I couldn’t blame her, but she always appeared perfect. At least to me.
Silhouetted against the amber lights, she appeared striking. With legs which went for miles and to-die-for abs, it was easy to see why they called her ‘ Tono’ after her toned figure, back when she’d modeled.
She adjusted the straps on her bra, and for the first time in ages gazed up at me with a sexual wanting on her face, right before demanding, “Get naked, amore .”
In approval, I laughed and stripped down to a pair of sandals the Minotaur had given me. I had no problem showing off my assets. Whether at the gym or perhaps even there at Circus Bazaar, I enjoyed the attention. I worked out, ate right, and took care of myself, so why shouldn’t I?
Friends say I did it to keep Jemma and Rocco interested, and maybe there was some truth to that. But I also did it for myself. Looking good is feeling good.
Jemma approached, her dark eyes intent and focused. It reminded me of earlier when we were on the plane and her nipples had become erect. I was happy to think that maybe, just maybe, she was coming around again. Cupping my nuts in her hands, she kissed me. “I want you to stay nice and hard all night, amore .” Gently, she stroked my shaft.
A tremble rocketed through my body. I couldn’t remember the last time Jemma had touched me. It took all of my might to resist the urge to bend her over the Minotaur’s podium and fuck her, right there and then. But on the plane ride over to Berlin, Rocco and I had agreed we’d make Jemma beg for our sex that time.
That’s right. We’d hatched a plan to make her crave us as never before.
Rocco had said, “They call it reverse psychology. We’ll sex Jemma up, then right when she gets all moaning and groaning, we turn it off.”
“ Bello , that’s cruel,” I’d argued. “And who is they?”
“My nonno. ”
“You discuss us with your grandfather?”
“ Sì , I talk to my nonno about everything. He says the more we resist her, the more she’ll want
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