The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

He didn’t move, didn’t blink. “What?”

“We didn’t use a condom.”

Finally done processing what I’d said, he turned his head to the man standing nearby, and irritation mixed with disappointment. “Were you thinking about her at all?”

“Are you kidding me?” Travis’s tone was surprisingly angry. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her.” He glared at the man lingering over me like he might be the cause. “I’m not proud we didn’t talk about it before, or the way I lost control, but I’m clean. Safe. And she said the same. Plus, I got tested a few months ago and she’s my first partner since.” He set his hands on his hips. “But you already know that, just like I know she’s on birth control and you two don’t use condoms.”

“Because we talked about that before anything happened,” Clay muttered.

“Yeah, and then you told me too, so I knew I wasn’t putting her at risk.” He exhaled and visibly released the tension he’d been holding in his body. “Do you want me to get you a condom?”

The man leaning over me struggled, but it seemed more to be with his awkwardness rather than the decision. Once again, things hadn’t gone according to plan, and Clay looked unsure of how to proceed.

How to get back into the scene.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and tried to pull him toward me. “I’m still okay without one.”

His focus shifted back to me, his eyes darkened with sex, and abruptly an evil smile flitted across his lips. It made me suspicious of what he was thinking about. Whatever new plan he’d just drafted in his head, he was quite pleased with it.

“Oh,” I murmured as the tip of his cock brushed over my entrance and began to push inside.

As he eased deeper inside me, all the tension in the room began to fade. I groaned with pleasure when his warm skin flattened to mine, but he only stayed long enough to latch his mouth onto mine and bite my bottom lip. I loved his mean, calculated kiss. It fanned the fire between us.

But then he straightened so we were only touching where we were joined, and he began to fuck me just as cruel as his kiss had been. It was hard, and fast, and premeditated. This wasn’t for my pleasure—it was for his.

But if this was supposed to be a punishment fuck, it wasn’t working. Clay’s brutal thrusts sent sparks glittering across my nerve endings and made me want to roll my eyes back into my head. The ice had numbed me, so now his cock felt like a hot branding iron.

God, it felt good.

He locked his hands on my hips, pinning me against the cushioned tabletop that was wet from the melted ice, and heaved his body into mine. Within seconds we were both panting, and grunts of satisfaction rolled from his lips. His fingers dug painfully into my skin, driving me wild.

“Yes,” I moaned.

I kept my gaze on Clay, but I was acutely aware we weren’t alone. Travis had taken a subtle step toward the table, maybe to get a closer view, or perhaps he hoped he’d get to participate. It allowed me to see him in my peripheral vision, and although I couldn’t make out the exact expression he wore, I sensed both his desire and his envy.

He’d said he wanted Clay to make me come, but then the thought clicked in my head. Clay’s evil smile had been a warning. Travis wasn’t his submissive and he didn’t care what the other man wanted tonight. Plus, Travis valued pleasure over pain. Not bringing me to orgasm could punish us both.

And I’d failed the ‘no orgasm’ test last night. It stood to reason Clay would want to try again.

His breathing was ragged, and his pulse pounded in his neck, and as his moans began to swell, all the telltale signs were there. My body whined with need. I was close—but not as close as he was, and Clay was determined to get across that finish line before me.

The muscles in his chest flexed and tensed.

His tempo went erratic before jerking to a stop, and a huge gasp rang out like it’d been punched from his chest.

His cock wasn’t that deep inside me when he came, but I could still feel the subtle pulses and warmth before he slipped out and retreated. He sat back, admiring the result of his work, and the same smug smile from before lurked on his lips.

His underwear was pulled up as I lay on the table, my body physically cooling but the heat he’d created inside me stubbornly lingered. I bit down on my bottom lip to stay quiet. I’d made it through the scene without begging. No need to start now.

He got down off the table, rescued the ice from the puddle that had formed around it, and strode toward the garbage can. He had to walk past Travis to get there, but pulled to a stop when the man stepped into his path.

Travis’s expression was dark. “You didn’t make her come.”

“No.” Clay turned to glance over his shoulder, still wearing the same enigmatic smile. “You are.”

NINETEEN

Surprise flashed through Travis and was quickly followed with excitement. I liked this plan as much as he seemed to, but when he took an enthusiastic step toward me, Clay’s hand came up and flattened to the center of Travis’s chest to stop him.

Everything around the men slowed to a crawl.

Clay’s hand was pressed against the front of Travis’s t-shirt, and neither man looked prepared for the contact. The touch probably wasn’t meant to be sexual, but Clay’s fingers splayed out, as if eager to feel more of the hardened muscles beneath them.

Travis’s eyes were wide, and he drew in a heavy breath. Clay didn’t seem to be breathing at all. This was absolutely not part of his plan, and he looked utterly lost. As if he wanted to draw his hand away,