Page 139 of Better When Shared
"I'm fine.” I cleared my throat, trying to sound more normal. "Better than fine, actually. I'm in the French Riviera."
"France? So you stayed on the cruise! Good for you. Sounds delicious."
“Quite.” I took a steadying breath, trying to organize my thoughts while Brian leaned in to capture Enzo's mouth in a kiss that was both tender and hungry. Their tongues danced together in the afternoon sunlight, and I felt heat pool between my thighs at the sight. Delicious was the perfect word for it.
They'd moved to the side where I could see them more clearly, Brian pressing Enzo against the tiles while they kissed with increasing intensity.
"Is everything all right?" There was a growing note of concern in Imogen’s voice.
“Delicious. Just a little… distracting.”
Brian's mouth had moved to Enzo's neck, and I could see the way Enzo's head fell back in pleasure, his lips parting on a sound I couldn't hear but desperately wanted to. One of Brian's hands was moving between them, and I realized with a jolt of arousal that he was stroking Enzo's cock beneath the water.
"Well, I’m sorry to interrupt things. But Gem, how are you holding up? Really? I know you've been putting on a brave face, but Jake's betrayal must have been devastating."
The question should have brought back the pain, the humiliation of being abandoned just days before my wedding. Instead, all I felt was a distant sense of gratitude. Jake's cowardice had freed me, had opened the door to experiences I never would have allowed myself otherwise.
"I'm discovering that perhaps Jake did me a favor."
Without Jake’s actions, I wouldn’t be treated to watching as Enzo's hand joined Brian's beneath the water. They were stroking each other now, their movements creating small ripples across the pool's surface that blurred the shape of their hard cocks under the water.
“I'm learning quite a lot about myself on this trip.”
"What kind of things?" There was something in Imogen’s voice—curiosity, perhaps, or vicarious excitement.
I considered how to answer, how much to reveal about what was happening between the three of us. Brian had lifted Enzo ontothe pool's edge now, and I could see everything—the way Enzo's cock jutted proudly from his body, the reverent way Brian's hands moved over his skin.
"Things I never thought I'd want," I said. “Like adventure.”
Imogen made a soft sound that might have been understanding. "I’d love an adventure. Well, I don’t want to interrupt you for too long. Let me know how I can help."
Before I could answer, Brian guided Enzo to the steps, and sat him down. His mouth descended on Enzo's cock, and I had to cover the phone's mouthpiece to muffle my gasp.
The sight was incredible—Brian's lips stretched around Enzo's thickness, the practiced way he took him deep, the obvious pleasure on both their faces. Enzo’s hips jolted up out of the water, thrusting into Brian’s mouth. I remembered the taste of Brian's pre-cum on my lips, the way Enzo had looked kneeling before him, and felt my own arousal spike to almost painful levels.
"Gemma?" Imogen's voice was sharp with concern. "Are you still there?"
"Yes," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene before me. "Sorry, I was just... distracted."
"By the view?" There was definitely amusement in Imogen's voice now. “You haven’t met a man, have you?”
"You could say that," I managed, watching as Brian's head bobbed with increasing rhythm. Enzo's hands were tangled in his hair, guiding him, and I could see the strain on both their faces as they chased their pleasure.
"Well," Imogen said. "I suppose if you're going to have a rebound, you might as well make it spectacular."
I laughed, shaking my head, and forcing myself to focus on work. "It's certainly that. But listen, there’s an issue with the Pemberton Wedding. They booked at the Bancroft in Bath and it’s a disaster.”
"The Pemberton wedding, right. Araminta Pemberton is… challenging. What can I do to help?" The Pembertons were old money, the kind of family whose displeasure could damage the hotel's reputation for years.
"Apparently there's been some sort of disaster with the floral arrangements, and the bride is threatening to cancel if it's not sorted immediately."
“Okay. Well, I think I can handle that!”
"The bride is being unreasonable," I said into the phone, my mind automatically shifting into crisis management mode. "The contract clearly states—"
"Gemma. You're on your honeymoon. Well, sort of. Un-honeymoon? Anyway, let me handle the work stuff. You enjoy yourself."
The offer was tempting, incredibly tempting. I wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone and join the men in the pool, to feel their hands on my body, to explore the desires that had been building inside me for days.
