I needed to lose myself in the physical—in Adam’s rough touch and Brooke’s soft sighs—and not lose myself in a jumble of thoughts from the past that tried to shove their way into my mind.
I dug my fingers into Adam’s arms and gripped just as tightly to images of him going down on Brooke. The way she tasted on his lips after. The fact that she was going home in the morning and probably putting an end to lessons soon.
Nope. I wasn’t dwelling on that last one.
The only thing that mattered right now was how hard I was. The sting that tugged my cock every time Adam bit me. His hand wrapped around my shaft as he jerked hard and fast. His grip was almost too much. Almost.
And the sounds Brooke made as she watched us. Seeing her dip her fingers into her pussy, her gaze never straying. She was stunning. Intoxicating.
Adam stroked me until I was grunting. Until I fucked his hand with heady desperation, wondering if I should pull away, but needing more at the same time.
Desire built inside, tightening in my balls. My eyelids fluttered, stars dancing in my vision, and my world swam. I came hard, jerking against Adam’s touch, covering his hand and my jeans in a sticky white mess. My legs wobbled from the exertion. From the release.
I didn’t have to worry about standing when Adam pushed me to my knees. I dragged his zipper down with my teeth, and Brooke’s giggle-groan was pure delight.
Adam fisted his cock and pressed the head roughly to my lips, and I took him into my mouth. No one else could do this to me besides him. No one else turned me on by taking the lead. I was the one in control.
Unless I was with Adam.
He fucked my face, pushing deep, grunting as hard as he thrust.
I licked and sucked and fingered his sac, falling into the heady sensation of post-orgasm bliss combined with knowing how much he was enjoying this. I was barely aware of the sounds he made becoming harder. More punctuated. I was lost in the way he tightened his grip on the short strands of my hair.
Brooke let out a series of loud gasps that told me she was coming again. Fuck I liked that sound, and after this, it would haunt my most vivid dreams.
When the first salty spurt from Adam hit the back of my mouth, I swallowed greedily, letting him spill down my throat until he was spent.
As he slid from my mouth, he sank onto the edge of the bed with a low groan and I sank back on my heels.
Silence rang loudly in the room, amplified by the still from outside. The flicker of candles and the occasional crack of flame from the other room added to the almost otherworldly feeling around us.
Maybe this was a vivid dream. It almost felt like one. Potent and alluring and the kind of thing that would suck me in and keep me here until I didn’t want anything else.
I shook the thought aside and stood abruptly. “I need a change of clothes. I’ll bring you something too, Brooke.”
“I’ll figure out the best way to clean us up.” Adam stood, spun, and kissed Brooke on the forehead. “Don’t move.”
She raised her brows, and I nearly choked on the envy as I swallowed it back.
Adam and I left and returned about the same time. His faint smirk was hard to miss when he pressed a washcloth to Brooke’s skin and she squealed.
“It’s cold.” She laughed.
“No hot water.” Adam shrugged. “We’ll keep you warm, I promise.”
When he was done. I helped Brooke slide into a pair of my sweats, and the three of us were soon cuddled together under the blanket again.
“What did you think of tonight’s bonus lesson?” I barely hid my wince as the question passed my lips. It tasted like a foul thing to ask, but I needed to cement for myself what I was doing here.
Brooke’s expression flickered, but returned to neutral in a blink, but Adam’s scowl stayed fixed in place.
“It was good. Thank you.” Brooke sounded like she was taking about dinner and not sex.
I wanted to take back the words and explain.
That was post coital bliss doing the thinking for me. A good night’s sleep, and I’d be fine in the morning.
* * *
I wasn’t surprised to find Adam and Brooke gone the next morning, but it was nice hearing their voices drift into the bedroom. Nicer even than hearing the sizzle of the radiator and feeling the heat in the room. Power was back on.
I wandered into the kitchen to find Brooke in one chair with her foot propped up on another, and Adam making breakfast. It was so normal and domestic and heartwarming and I refused to let it lull me into any false sense of belief that what was going on with me and them was anything other than sex and friendship.
We exchanged generic good morning greetings while I grabbed some coffee and took a seat across from Brooke at the table.
“Power’s hooked up in the basement,” she said. “You’re free to do whatever you need down there.”
“You shouldn’t have gone down there.” My retort came out as more of a grumble.
She scowled. “You’re welcome.”
“I tried to tell her no.” Adam set a plate in front of me with pancakes and eggs. “She’s very persuasive when she wants to be.”
Images flashed in my mind of all the ways Brooke could persuade Adam, and I clenched my jaw.
Brooke started to stand, and Adam nudged her back into her seat. He took her empty plate to the sink and rinsed it.
This was too sweet. Too wrong.
“I was careful and he was the perfect escort.” A soft smile played on Brooke’s face.
Jealousy surged inside, and I swallowed it. Did I wake up on the wrong fucking side of the bed or what?
Adam joined us at the table, his own coffee in hand. “Roads are plowed. I’m going to take Brooke to the clinic so they can check out her ankle, then drop her off at home.”
Brooke should stay here. I squashed the impulse to spit out the words. To follow them with We’ll take care of you. She needed to go home to her actual family. ”Sounds good.”
“So, thank you for last night. All of it.” Brooke’s voice grew softer.
I gave her a smile that didn’t feel real on any level. “Of course. What are friends for?”
That seemed to be enough to kill the breakfast conversation. A short while later, Adam helped Brooke downstairs, and they were on their way.
My pancakes tasted like sawdust. Weird, because Adam was usually a great cook. I cleaned up after myself and headed down to the shop to work. Both of my employees had called in, due to bad weather conditions, but I didn’t expect many customers, for the same reason, so it wasn’t a big deal.
I returned a few calls about the furniture people saw on Adam’s channel, and since I had to keep an eye on the shop, I settled in to wait.
When the Adam’s Family chime rang through the store, I stood. The interested look I adopted faded to a scowl when I saw Travis strolling toward me. “What can I do for you?” I clipped off the words.
“I heard you’ve been doing some electrical wiring in a basement you aren’t supposed to have.”
I wasn’t going to take any chances with the nuance in his words. “I wasn’t. I had a licensed electrician do it. And since the basement is original to the building, I can’t unhave it.”
“If by licensed, you mean Brooke, is her work the reason the power went out on the whole block last night?”
I clenched my fists as suppressed frustration from this morning rushed back in the form of fury. Could I get away with it if I threw a punch? “The power went out because the transformer blew. Same one that dies in a noisy bang every six months or so. Brooke is more competent at her work than anyone I know. Get out or I’ll make you.”
“I didn’t say what I came to say.”
“I don’t care.” Maybe I should—he had a lot of say about what happened to this block—but fuck him. “This is still my shop and still private property. If you want to tell me something, send an email.”
Travis shrugged. “Probably safer for me anyway, but you’ll wish you heard me out when you read it.” He turned and walked toward the door.
Adam was coming back as he was leaving, and jarred Travis with his shoulder on the way past.
Childish? Without question. Did I laugh anyway? Without question.
“What’s The Tool want?” Adam asked when he reached the counter.
“Don’t know, don’t care. How’s Brooke?”
“She has to stay off her feet for at least two weeks and she’s not happy about it.” Adam didn’t look happy either.
I was disappointed, but this was as good a time as any to remind myself of the rules I’d set on our relationship. Brooke was a friend I was giving lessons to. If the teacher couldn’t practice what he preached, what good was he as a teacher? “She has to do what she has to do.”
A frown whispered across Adam’s face.
“We should check with some other people on the block, see if they can help us while she’s out of commission,” I said.
“Good idea.” This time Adam’s frown lingered. “Brooke did say—more than once—that we should visit and keep her updated, so she didn’t get lonely.”
I wasn’t sure that was smart, but if we weren’t having sex, I’d go see her as a friend. “Okay.”
Adam’s sigh almost sounded like a growl.
I wasn’t going to ask why, because I wasn’t sure I had a retort to whatever was bothering him. “Do you mind working today?” I asked instead. “I want to do a full inventory of the basement, now that we have power.”
Adam’s sure was as unenthusiastic as anything I’d ever heard, but he settled onto the stool behind the register.
I headed into the basement. A light switch sat at the bottom of the stairs, and when I flicked it, the entire space lit up. Brooke was good. I spent the next several hours cataloging everything, moving as much of it as I could into some semblance of order while I worked.
Was antique sex furniture subject to the same zoning laws as adult toys? There was what we’d told Travis, and then there was the reality and I had no idea if I could actually sell this stuff. I hoped so.
My phone chimed with a new email from Travis, and I ignored it.
About fifteen minutes later a text from Aubrey came through. What the fuck is he thinking?
This couldn’t be good.
It was followed quickly by one from Adam. You should get up here.
Nope. Not good at all.
I made my way back to the main shop, to find that Aubrey, Sebastian, and others from the block had gathered around the counter by Adam. They were all talking over each other and the general tone in the room felt like panic mixed with fury.
Maybe I should’ve read the message from Travis. “What’s going on?”
“Mr. Paddock”—Sebastian said Travis name with poisonous disdain—“is pushing through zoning regulations about wiring. That all of the buildings have to be brought up to modern code.”
“He can’t do that.” I should know by now that Travis could do a lot more than seemed legal. He had too many connections to the people with money and who made the decisions.
Aubrey scowled. “Well guess what. He is.”