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Chapter Ten

Ruby

I t’s an experience, to say the least, being in a restaurant with Cameron and Dean.

They’re used to touching me whenever they feel like it, and showing restraint?

Not their strong suit. We sit at a secluded corner booth of a high-end seafood restaurant overlooking the Pacific, the sun just beginning to sink into the horizon.

Dean is to my left, Cameron to my right, each resting a possessive hand on my thigh beneath the table.

The waiter is doing a great job of hiding his curiosity, but even he can’t help but gape, along with everyone else who passes the table. Hopefully, their open staring has nothing to do with my dress.

Wishful thinking. Of course it does.

“I can’t believe we brought her out in public wearing that,” Dean mutters, sipping a tumbler of scotch. “How am I supposed to eat with my dick this hard?”

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Cameron says, leaning back to give a thorough examination of my crossed bare legs, while Dean peruses my perky cleavage with a clenched jaw. “Was this dress our wives’ doing?”

“Polly and Molly strike again,” I sing-song, tipping my wine glass to my lips. “I think they’re having fun torturing you.” Cameron and Dean trade a telling glance that I can’t interpret. It’s nice to see them communicating again, but it would be nice if they clued me in. “What?”

Cameron shifts in his seat. “We’re not sure we want the torture to end, Ruby.”

I maintain a neutral expression, but my heart flutters its way up into my throat. “What do you mean?”

Dean gives me a stern look. “You know what we mean, baby.”

“No, I don’t. Because you can’t possibly be talking about extending this arrangement. That would take this from an exercise in closure to a full-blown affair and I’m never going to be on board with that. If I was that kind of person, things would have been a lot different six years ago.”

Several seconds tick by. “I love my family. My wife and I have a strong relationship, but God help me, we’re more like friends with children. It’s been that way for a while.”

“It’s the same for us,” Dean says, taking another long pull of scotch. “Polly knows it, too, or she never would have let me do this.”

“Yeah.”

I’m shaking my head vigorously. “We’re not talking about this.

” My chest is starting to burn from the pent-up emotion that I refuse to expend.

No, revealing how I feel about Dean and Cameron would be wrong.

“We have until tomorrow morning and then we’re going our separate ways.

I’ve never wanted to be in a relationship, anyway.

Which is why this was such a low-risk chance to… explore…what I like.”

“And now, what? When our three days together are up, you’re free to go explore it with other men?” Dean moves his hand from my thigh to the nape of my neck, holding firmly. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Ruby,” Cameron says, obviously trying to be the voice of reason. “We’ll sit down with Polly and Molly. We’ll explain what we’re feeling and go from there. Just be honest with us about your feelings. Tell us this is worth fighting for.”

“Maybe she needs reminding,” Dean growls, using his grip on the back of my neck to turn my face toward him, sealing his mouth over mine, his tongue roaming deep, deep, deeper and blanking my mind. We’re both breathing hard when he pulls away. “Now him.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, dazed, my heart thundering loudly as I accept Cameron’s kiss next, the force of him pushing my back into Dean’s chest, our lips seeking and pulling with twin groans, his palm skimming up my inner thigh.

He fucks my mouth until I’m gasping for air, forced to drop my head back onto Dean’s shoulder.

“Tell us you feel something,” Dean demands. When I say nothing, he abandons his scotch to slide his hand up my skirt, knuckling aside my panties to tease apart my flesh. “Or maybe we should take your body’s word for it, wet little girl.”

Thank God the waiter picks that moment to arrive with our appetizers and both men reluctantly back off.

But not soon enough to keep me out of mental turmoil.

What am I supposed to do? I didn’t see this coming.

I thought my feelings for these two men would have subsided by now and I would be free to enjoy the physical release, but I was wrong.

What I feel in my heart for them is still very real…and very dangerous.

Am I in too deep now? Was this a terrible miscalculation?

“We have tonight,” I manage, still trying to catch my breath. “Let’s not look beyond that, okay?”

“We already inquired about a purchase price for the beach house,” Cameron says, absently twisting his water glass on the table.

“You what? You can’t…do that. You can’t. ”

And yet, the very idea of becoming a permanent fixture in their beds makes my nipples pucker painfully inside the corset top.

The swelling of my breasts, along with my nervous breathing is making it difficult to keep decent.

This top is tight as it is, and now I’m practically popping free of the snug lace cups, drawing both men’s rapt attention.

Dean leans in to speak against my ear. “You think we wouldn’t fly six hours in both directions to fuck you?”

“Enough of this,” I moan, pushing against their chests in a flimsy protest when they lean in to kiss opposite sides of my neck, two sets of hands grabbing at my hips, attempting to pull me right, then left, into their laps. “Save it for back at the house.”

Cameron breaks off a frustrated but eager groan. “Finally going to be inside you.”

“Yes,” I murmur, turning to kiss his lips softly, a pulse fluttering between my legs. Goosebumps aplenty. “Finally.”

Dean’s thumb is massaging the back of my neck. “Just so we have this straight, I’ll be Cameron’s father in this scenario?”

“Yup.” I turn and flutter my eyelashes at him. “Literally Daddy.”

My silly joke has his pupils expanding to block out his irises. “Let’s eat fast.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Cameron says.

“I’ll drink to that,” I say, lifting the wine glass once more, my head starting to swim.

Dean

I agreed to play out this scene to show Cameron some acceptance.

I didn’t expect to be so stirred up when the moment arrived.

How could I not be rocked by hunger when I walk into Cameron’s bedroom and find Ruby on the floor, the corset of her dress askew.

According to Cameron, this is how she ended up after falling out of bed that day during our senior year.

And if she looked a fraction as hot and vulnerable as this, I forgive Cameron’s father for wanting to beat off.

Rosy nipples have peeked over the edge of her lace corset top, her knees raised and slightly parted, so I can register her lack of panties.

She had three glasses of wine at lunch and the alcohol has made her neck loose, her smile dreamy.

Her visible inebriation gives me pause until I remind myself this was her idea. She consented to this while sober.

“Hello Mr. Jones,” she says, swaying her knees side to side. “Are you enjoying your visit with Cameron?”

“I’m enjoying it a lot more now.”

She giggles, but it ends in a hiccup, bringing a flush of color to her cheeks. “I was at a pool party this afternoon. I promise I’m usually a lot more professional than this.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

She shakes her head no, and goddamn, those bouncy titties shake, too, swelling my cock in my briefs, shrinking my windpipe. Is this how that fifty-something-year-old man felt that day? Standing in front of a college freshman with her tits out? He probably couldn’t look away for the life of him.

I become aware of Cameron in my periphery, watching my interaction with Ruby happen from the hallway, his palm coasting up and down the ridge of his erection.

“Did Mrs. Jones come for the visit, too?” she asks, sweetly tilting her head, as if her cunt isn’t ripe and golden, staring me in the face.

“No, it’s just me on this trip,” I respond, my voice beginning to grow ragged. “How often do you tutor my son, darling?”

“As often as he needs.”

I chuckle. “I have a feeling he needs a lot of tutoring.”

She laughs, too, but the elbow propping her up slips out from under her, sending Ruby flopping onto her back, increasing the volume of her laugh. “Oh my goodness. This is so embarrassing, Mr. Jones. I don’t usually drink alcohol.”

“Do you need some help getting up?”

“Yes, I think so.”

I saunter closer to Ruby until I’m standing over her, looking down at her lush tits from above, her skirt riding up to the tops of her long, lithe thighs now.

My cock pulsates with need—and fuck, I’m beginning to get a better understanding of Cameron’s predicament.

Maybe it’s sick and twisted, but we’re raised to think our fathers are invincible.

There’s something excruciatingly hot about one of these so-called faultless men turning into a horny animal for a girl three decades his junior. Losing his composure.

“You’re a very beautiful girl, Ruby,” I say, adjusting my fly.

She watches my roving hand with dawning understanding. “Oh, um…thank you.” She tugs down the hem of her dress, but that only exposes more of her tits. “You must have been a lady killer back in the day.”

“I’ve had my fair share of fun,” I drawl, rocking back on my heels to look up her skirt.

“Can’t remember any of my conquests being built like you, though, darling.

” Again, she struggles to cover herself with the garment, pulling too far in one direction, then the other. “You need some help with your dress?”

“No, um…” She chews her lip. “Well, maybe…?”

I drop down on my knees beside Ruby, cupping one of her knees in my palm, letting my thumb stroke her inner thigh, eliciting a quick intake of breath.

Looking her in the eye, I push back her knee and open it wide, my gaze tracking down to her exposed pussy.

“I’d like to help. But it would be a crime to cover this sweet young piece. ”

“Mr. Jones,” she gasps.