Chapter Three
When Hannah opened her front door that night, the warm air washed inside with her, but the calmness of her home did nothing to alleviate her own unsettled emotions. She felt shaken, like all her nerves were firing at once and she could barely hold herself within her skin. A normal Chamber of Commerce meeting shouldn’t leave her feeling like this. A normal Chamber of Commerce meeting, though, wouldn’t involve Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mischievous making flirty eyes at her all evening and talking to her in that smoky voice. She’d never really talked to Ben before. They had exchanged a few casual greetings in passing, not one-on-one conversations with too much eye contact.
She had no reason to be so shaken up. This conversation was, by all rights, as casual as any conversations she had had with acquaintances at these meetings, albeit more flirtatious. Rather than the content, it was Ben who made the conversation intense. Ben and his smart, effortless sexuality, casually asking her out to dinner and undressing her with his eyes. In the time since the meeting ended, she should have recovered. Even so, she felt just as unsettled as when Ben had first asked her out. This was ridiculous. If she was into the guy, she should have taken him up on his offer, and if she wasn’t, then she shouldn’t still be thinking about him.
She left the lights off and turned on the sound system, filling the house with instrumental music to drown out the emptiness. Then she slid open the doors to the back deck and let the balmy night air wash inside. With the front windows open, the cross breeze brushed past her like fingertips over her skin. Her house would cool throughout the night; hopefully her blood would as well. If she could help it, she hated turning on the air-conditioning, and turning it on during the last half of September in Massachusetts just felt wrong, even if she was a bit overheated. Still hungry from skipping dinner, she picked through leftovers in the fridge, making herself a sandwich. She ate it standing in the kitchen, the linoleum cool against her bare feet, and washed it down with some ice water. Damn, the night was still way too hot. She walked upstairs into her bedroom and pushed open both windows to cool that room as well.
In the darkness of her room, it took her a few minutes to identify the feeling running through her body. Arousal. She sighed. Just fucking great. She had spent an evening flirting casually with Ben and came home practically panting for sex. He wouldn’t know how close she had been to taking him up on his offer for dinner. If she had, she’d probably be bringing him back here right now. He could be pressing her down into that bed with his giant frame, those large hands cupping her breasts, his beard tickling her neck and making her moan.
Instead, before she could say yes, she’d spotted Mitchell out of the corner of her eye. Mitchell, with his perpetually thoughtful expression and almost religious obsession with food, with whom she flirted on a near weekly basis, had been watching her with Ben. There had been no mistaking the longing in his eyes, naked and raw, an expression she had never seen on his face. As soon as he’d caught her looking, his guard was back up, his expression neutral, and that was it. She knee-jerk turned Ben down without another thought.
She was thinking now, though. If Mitchell wanted her, he could damn well say something about it. She’d given him enough opportunities. She was in there every week, for fuck’s sake, even though she couldn’t afford more than one beer most of the time. She flirted with him each time. He flirted back, but he’d never made a move. He certainly had no claim over her.
Ben’s casual charm was intoxicating. And…it was nice to have a man look at her and make her feel wanted, after so many failed dates. The way he murmured to her, leaning in so it felt like they were the only two in the room, he’d exuded a magnetism that felt far too intimate for a Chamber of Commerce meeting. If he was like that in a professional setting, what would he be like on a date? Or here, alone with her in her house?
She turned away from the windows and stripped off her clothes. She owned a sex shop, for fuck’s sake. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly.
Having long outgrown the nightstand next to her bed, Hannah kept her toys in a large wooden armoire in the bedroom. Although it took up more room than her bureau, she couldn’t imagine giving up any of these toys to save space. She’d cultivated her collection based on her interests and wants, and each item in there served a specific purpose. Now, she stood in front of it the way other people might stand in front of a fully stocked refrigerator trying to decide what they were in the mood to eat. In a way, it was pretty similar…she just wasn’t choosing something for her mouth.
She wanted to be overwhelmed. She wanted to lose herself in this, to imagine, to pretend that her fantasies could be real. Her thickest dildo would be almost too much, but the good kind of almost too much.
Rubbing the head of the dildo between her slick folds, she pressed it just inside. God, Ben would be like this. Broad, tall, solid, he would feel so thick against her. Yes, she wanted that burn and stretch, she wanted the pressure that was nearly pain, that delicious mixture of sensations that made her moan out loud. She wouldn’t touch her clit, not yet, and focused instead on how her body yielded as the dildo split her open. It went on forever. Fuck, she felt so full, each inch sending ripples of pleasure outward through her body.
Finally, stuffed full, pussy clenching around the hard length, she let her fingers drift up to brush her nipples. They were hard, stiff peaks, tight with arousal, and running her fingers over them made her clit tingle like she was touching it. If only it was Ben. He could be here, his cock filling her so much better than this dildo, his hot body pressing her into the mattress. Instead of her fingers grazing her nipples, he could have his mouth on her, his beard scratching her sensitive skin, hot breath lighting every nerve on fire.
She had to touch her clit. She couldn’t wait any longer, her body crying out for more. That first press of fingers on her tight, swollen bud made her arch up off the bed and moan out loud, fuck, electricity racing through her thighs and up her spine. God, she needed this, now, all of it, fingers speeding up over her clit. She fumbled for the base of the dildo with her other hand, and her slow buildup dissolved in frantic need. Short, hard strokes, like Ben couldn’t hold back anymore, both of them driven on by instinct.
She was soaked, and the pads of her fingers slipped across her swollen clit like a tongue. Oh, a tongue, Mitchell’s tongue, his talented mouth working her over, and her fantasy shifted to him between her legs. Determined, focused, he would draw his tongue across her sensitive bud and taste her like a fine dessert. She sucked in a breath, gasping for air. The fantasies blurred, as if somehow she could have Mitchell’s mouth and Ben’s cock, or maybe the other way around, Ben’s beard scratching her thighs, Mitchell holding her tight and splitting her open, the images and feelings rolling over her like so many waves. She didn’t even know she was coming until everything dissolved in a flash of color and light.
Her orgasm overtook her like a current, body moving instinctively into the razor-sharp pleasure. Ben, Mitchell, bodies moving against her, over her, inside her, and then her mind went blank.
When she relaxed, she sagged back down on her bed, eyelids opening again, hands falling away from her body. She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom in the darkness, feeling drained in the aftermath. Fantasy was easy. She could get off, clean up, go about her life. Fantasy didn’t come with any risks.
And it didn’t come with any rewards, either.
So what was she doing lying here fucking herself instead of going after something better? Maybe it was ridiculous, or maybe it was too much time spent talking with Lori, but there was no reason she couldn’t try for at least some of what she wanted.
These thoughts circled her mind as she cleaned up and got dressed. Ben wanted her. He’d asked her out, and she had said no, out of some strange impulse or loyalty to Mitchell. And yet she’d never asked Mitchell out. She’d made all kinds of excuses to Lori, sure, saying he was a commitment kind of guy, but she didn’t know his opinions on the matter at all. She had just chickened out.
Fuck chickening out. She needed to do something, or she was going to fuck herself to death alone.
When she returned to the living room, the paperwork from the Mapleton Fall Festival was still lying on the kitchen table where she’d left it, so she brought it over to the couch and started leafing through it. The page of booth prices stared up at her. Damn, that was another issue. Even discounted, Mapleton After Dark was expensive. She couldn’t swing this on her own, as much as she wanted to. Her bills were nearly insurmountable, and she didn’t need to call up her accounts to know it. With the increase in rent, the sales were barely covering expenses, and she was still in debt for the extra money she’d borrowed for a marketing push. Nothing like a heavy dose of reality to squash any leftover horniness.
Hannah closed her eyes. Most small businesses failed. She’d known that going into this situation. She’d been determined to prove everyone wrong: her parents, with their well-meaning condescension, her boyfriend at the time, who thought she was overreaching her capabilities, and most of all, herself. She’d been mediocre for so much of her life, never achieving any greatness of note in school or in work. But then she was a business owner, something to be proud of. The thought of losing that paralyzed her.
She’d almost made it the full five years, too, the window in which most businesses folded. Somehow she’d thought this would be easier now, five years in. She hadn’t counted on still barely scraping by.
Maybe they had all been right about her.
Although if she had a boost in income, that would pay off her marketing debt and send her into the holidays in the black. One big push might be all she needed. The best bet for this quick profit was definitely Fall Festival.
Renting a booth alone, though, was going to be a problem. Maybe she could finagle some kind of discount? But no, that wasn’t fair to everyone else. She knew the Chamber of Commerce wasn’t turning a profit on this event. The logistical costs of the Mapleton Fall Festival were high. The “free to the public” acts weren’t really free; someone needed to pay for the entertainment, the infrastructure, setup and cleanup crew, etc. Those costs were covered by booth rental fees, supplemented heavily by official event sponsors like the supermarket, radio station, and usually city government. And it made sense, too. For most businesses, the festival was a huge boost in sales. It wasn’t her fault that those people tended not to be buying sex toys along with their gourd wreaths.
Alternately, she could split a booth with someone. And that brought her back to Ben and Mitchell. The pub did a great business. By all accounts, they wouldn’t need any financial boost to afford to participate in the event. Would they even want to partner with her?
But not needing help didn’t mean they wouldn’t welcome it. Maybe they’d want to do something different than just sell food and beer in Restaurant Row. She could save them half the cost of a Mapleton After Dark booth. They didn’t need to know she was in dire financial straits. She wasn’t about to disclose that to anyone, least of all these two successful, hot guys.
And if she got to spend some time alone with them in the process, that might have some secondary benefits for all involved.
Ben had given her his number, so she sent him a text.
His response came a few minutes later.
If it weren’t for the fact that she’d mentioned both of them, this would have felt like a date. Getting together with two hot guys for drinks? The erotic story practically wrote itself.
A few more exchanges and they set up the location and time. Hannah tossed her phone onto the couch next to her and kicked up her feet onto the coffee table, the paperwork off to one side. Already, she had apprehensions. She couldn’t deny her own layered motives. If they partnered for the festival, she couldn’t just walk out if things got uncomfortable. Plus, Mitchell and Ben were roommates, and that seemed like an extra layer of complication. Fall Festival might be good for her business, but damn, it wouldn’t be without risk.
…
The nice thing about the Night Owl was its lighting. Ben spent a lot of time thinking about ambience, mostly in the way that beers could evoke their own sense of ambience, and the Night Owl created a pleasant coziness that went with chocolate stouts and oatmeal porters. As a rule, he liked to try new beer whenever it was available, but he was in the mood for something harder. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks from a sexy bartender with a pink pixie cut and took to people watching. He liked getting to places early, especially places with good people-watching possibilities, so he had about fifteen minutes to eye the place before he estimated Hannah would show up.
Hannah apparently had a similar idea to him, because less than five minutes after his drink arrived, she walked in. God, what a knockout. She was wearing a tank top with little ruffles around the neckline, a pair of knee-length shorts, and sandals. He got caught up looking at those calves as she walked to the bar and placed a drink order with the cute bartender. Then, before sitting, she turned to scan the room, her gaze finally landing on him.
“You know, I almost didn’t even look around. I almost just sat at the bar.” She slid into the booth next to him. He’d taken the corner booth, the wraparound, plenty of room for four or five people even though Hannah slid right up alongside him. Although she wasn’t pressed against him, her arm rested next to his on the table, an expanse of soft skin, and she smelled wonderful.
He was never one to hold back his thoughts. “Can I say that you smell good, or is that weird?”
She grinned. “It’s a little weird, but you can say it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Is it my hair?”
This was a perfect opportunity to lean in, and she definitely shivered as his nose brushed lightly against her ear.
“That’s part of it, yeah.” He drew back before it got awkward, but the space between them had suddenly become about ten degrees hotter. “But if I keep smelling your hair, there’s no way we’re going to talk about business tonight.”
She returned his grin with the same tenor, mischievous with a little uptick at the corner of her lips. “Pretty sure of yourself, hmm?” Resting her chin on her hand, she looked at him, her eyes that indefinable shifting color between gray and green, framed by those black librarian glasses.
Whatever she might be thinking, his thoughts were completely impure. “I have my ways.”
Her free hand rested on the dark wood of the table. Those long fingers would look amazing wrapped around his cock. Better change the subject before he popped a hard-on right here in the bar. Fortunately, a waitress brought Hannah’s drink over to them, which created a shift in the tone. “What are you drinking?”
“Scotch and soda.” She sipped from it, then sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Heavy on the scotch.”
“I’m a whiskey man myself.” He held his up. “In all its forms.”
“Cheers to that.” She clinked her glass with his. “So what happened to Mitchell? I thought you both would be here.”
Ahh, the Mitchell question. He wasn’t sure himself, what with Mitchell being kind of cagey last night about the whole thing. His reasons for missing the meeting seemed thin: work to do in the restaurant, mainly, along with some kind of bullshit about not wanting to be in the way. Ben had pressed, but Mitchell had refused to elaborate. “He’s got a bunch of stuff to do in the kitchen. Besides, I usually handle the marketing side of things for the business.”
“Oh.” She seemed mollified by that, if perhaps a bit…disappointed? He couldn’t tell. “He work a lot of nights?”
“Mostly mornings, actually. Some nights when it’s busy, especially on weekends. He doesn’t cook as much as he manages. He’s working in the office as much as in the kitchen.” Their respective roles had evolved substantially in the almost seven years since opening the restaurant, and while Mitchell liked to cook and made time for it as often as he could, Ben had eventually convinced him to turn over most of the dinner cooking to his sous chef. Kitchen management took far more time.
“You guys must both be really busy.” She rested her chin on her hand, brow furrowed in thought.
Ben shrugged. “You know how it is, running a business. Hard to keep your head above water.”
Hannah snorted. “Don’t I know it.” She took another sip of scotch and shook her head. “Whoo. That burns.”
“Just like I like it.” Ben tipped back some of his whiskey, the liquid searing his throat in the way he had come to love. “So, tell me about this interest in Mapleton After Dark.”
The mention of the festival brought her out of flirtatious mode and into business mode, which somehow made her look even hotter. He could see why Mitchell was so smitten with her, even if that foolish man refused to do anything about it. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I think Mapleton After Dark sounds good, and I think it would be a nice boost for business, but I don’t think I can justify that kind of business expense on my own, even with the discount. I don’t think I’d sell enough product to make up the investment, and I don’t have a selling point beyond my products.” She took a breath and let it out, her hands balling into fists on the table like she was steeling herself. “I thought maybe we could do a partnership. Beer and sex toys. You know, ‘What beer goes with this vibrator?’ and, ‘Hey, if you like hops, try the rabbit,’ stuff like that. Silly things, but some kind of marketing that normalizes the sex toys.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she took another sip from her drink and set the glass down on its cardboard coaster. “It would save us each the cost of paying for a full booth, and we could each market our products. Like a temporary partnership.”
“And we would split the cost fifty-fifty?” He stroked his beard. This plan definitely had an appeal.
“Right. And our individual sales would be our own. Now, it all depends on you guys being willing to partner up with a sex shop.” She shrugged, but the shrug looked stiff, as if she were holding extra tension in her shoulders. “Not all businesses want to do that. I don’t know if it would drive away your customers if they saw that you were in bed with me. Financially, I mean,” she added quickly. “It’s an expression.”
He smiled. When flustered, she was extra cute. “So why our business? Why me and Mitchell?”
Hannah ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “I know you both, or at least I know Mitchell a little bit, and I know your business. I trust you. I thought you were better than approaching some random person at the Chamber of Commerce meetings. Plus, I think alcohol aligns with sex toys probably better than anything else does, for better or worse.”
“Fair enough.”
“I was going to write up something formal, but that felt weird, so I just figured I’d talk to you.” She paused, then asked, a bit hesitantly, “What do you think?”
He couldn’t see the harm in it. “I think it sounds like a good plan. I have to run it by Mitchell, but he was already talking with me about doing a booth for Mapleton After Dark, so this is a natural extension of that.”
“Do you think he would have any aversions to partnering with me? I don’t know if he’s uptight or something like that.” Hannah bit her lip. “I make a lot of crude jokes with him, but it’s not like he ever makes them back.”
Ben had to laugh. If only Hannah knew the half of it. “He would not have a problem with sex toys, trust me.” Taking a sip of his whiskey, he thought to some of the more lewd encounters he’d enjoyed with Mitchell, including some truly crude dirty talk. “Although he doesn’t own any. Maybe you could change that.”
Hannah’s mouth opened slightly, and after another pause, she took a drink. “So you two are close, then,” she said when she had recovered. “I wasn’t sure. I know you’re friends, but there are lots of levels of friendship.”
“Yeah.” He thought about whether or not to say anything further, but if he was hoping to take things further with Hannah—and he was—then she should probably know. Plus, it would be worth it to see her expression. “Mitchell and I are the kind of friends who fuck.”
Hannah’s eyes widened, then narrowed, her expression turning puzzled as she probably tried to reconcile her worldview to the information she had just received. “I didn’t know you were dating.” She laughed, a nervous laugh. “I’ve been flirting pretty hard tonight.”
“I like your flirting.” Ben smiled. “And Mitchell and I aren’t dating. It’s nothing serious. Just two guys letting off steam.”
A bit of color flushed her cheeks. She was pretty glib most of the time, so with her momentarily stunned into silence, he pushed the subject. “You’re blushing. Does that turn you on? Are you picturing it right now?”
Hannah started laughing, and then downed a large gulp of her scotch and soda, shaking her head as she swallowed. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“What? I know some girls are into that. Just wondering if you’re one of them.” He set his hand on hers where it still rested next to her glass, his fingertips tracing a circle on her skin.
She looked down at their hands, her wordlessness persisting for a few more seconds before she found her voice again. “I’m pretty equal opportunity with my porn, even if I do happen to only be attracted to men.” Her ensuing smile was a little bit naughty, a little bit guilty, and quite a bit intrigued. “I imagine that’s quite a sight to see.”
“It’s not like we invite an audience.” He loved this: the tension, the way she leaned into him like a flower toward the sun. Anticipating what might come next kept him alert, his senses tuned in to her every response. “But maybe for a special occasion. Mitchell and I, we don’t let gender stand in the way of a good fucking. It’s part of the pleasure of being bi.”
“I imagine that would be an advantage.” Hannah turned her hand palm up beneath his, her fingernails scratching lightly across his tender skin. “What are your policies on mixing business and pleasure?”
“Every chance I get.” Ben dropped his voice lower. “I’ve been fucking my business partner for a few years, after all.” For sex, it was easy. Sex didn’t have to mean anything. Romance was a different animal entirely, one he was happy to avoid. But they weren’t talking about romance. “How about you? Do you like mixing business and pleasure?”
“My business is pleasure.” She licked her upper lip, perhaps chasing a stray drop of scotch, but her eyes were only on him. “Is this why you agreed to meet with me tonight? Hoping to get me into bed?”
“It was a perk, yes.” He slid a bit closer in the booth, closing the space between them. “It’s a shame Mitchell didn’t join us.”
“Oh?” Hannah’s breath caught. He noticed it, the slight hitch on her inhale, the way her eyes widened. “Do you two share women?”
“Never.” He looked down at her mouth, those full lips that he was definitely going to kiss into swollen softness. “I could imagine there’s a first time for everything.”
She leaned in, and he met her halfway, his mouth pressing against hers in a first kiss that was far too hot for a bar, even a dimly lit bar like the Night Owl. She didn’t hold back, slanting her lips against his and parting them to tangle their tongues together. She tasted sweet, but laced with the burn of whiskey, a combination that flooded his senses and drove him into immediate, pulse-pounding desperation. Fuck. This kiss was supposed to be a tease, a little touch that hinted at more, but her lush mouth opening beneath his had him coming apart. He was reaching up to take a fistful of her hair when she pulled back. “He’s not here. It’s just us. Either of you going to have a problem with that?”
“No problem here.” Ben’s breath came quick alongside his heartbeat. “Mitchell knew how this might turn out.”
“You assuming I’m a foregone conclusion?” Hannah shook her head, still smiling. “I don’t know how I feel about that. Maybe I should say no and make you wait.”
“And why would you do that? Especially when you know how much fun this could be.” Ben slid a hand to her leg, resting it halfway up her thigh, which yielded softly beneath his grip. He wanted to keep going, drag his hand all the way up to cup her pussy, make her press into his palm, and it took a lot of restraint to hold himself in check in this very public space. He leaned in for another kiss and she let him, kissing back, tantalizing him with the promise of more. “You’d be punishing both of us for no good reason.” He moved his lips to whisper against the pink shell of her ear. “And not the kind of punishment that either of us might like.”
Hannah sat back, her eyes sparkling. “You know, my store is literally across the street. Maybe we should settle our tab.”
“I’ve never been inside your store. Are you offering to show me around?”
“In a manner of speaking.” She poked the tip of her tongue playfully out from between her lips. “It’s a lot closer than my house and probably yours.”
“You’re up to no good, and I love it.” He leaned in one more time, kissing her sweet mouth, impatient for more. “You’d better finish that drink.”
She tossed back her drink in one gulp, and he did the same with the last of his whiskey. His body was singing with the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream, adrenaline that doubled when Hannah’s long fingers squeezed the hard outline of his erection through his pants. Fuck. He froze, hand squeezing shut reflexively and knocking over the empty whiskey glass as his mouth fell open.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “What’s the matter, butterfingers?”
“Just can’t hold my liquor, that’s all.” He sucked in another breath as she ran her palm up his length. “You should be careful what you’re doing down there.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing down here.” She gripped him firmly, locking eyes with him. Yeah, he was going to enjoy the challenge she offered. “Come on. Let’s pay up and go.”