Page 41 of Better When Shared
The air in the elevator thickened, making it harder to breathe. Julian's lips found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, and I let my head fall back against him, a soft moan escaping my lips. Caleb watched, his green eyes darkening, his composed exterior cracking just enough to reveal the hunger beneath.
"Kiss her," Julian urged, his voice rough against my skin. "I want to watch you kiss my wife."
Caleb hesitated for just a moment, eyes searching mine for permission. I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I was sure both men could feel it. Then Caleb leaned down, and his lips brushed mine—tentative at first, a question more than a demand.
I answered by fisting my hand in his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He tasted like mint, his tongue sliding against mine with growing confidence. Julian's hands tightened on my hips, his approval evident in the hardening length I felt pressing against my ass.
Three floors. Two.
When Caleb pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his perfect composure disrupted. Julian didn't wait—he spun me around, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was pure possession, a reminder of everything we shared. I surrendered to it, my body melting between them as Caleb's hands found my waist frombehind, his thumbs drawing small circles on the exposed skin where my blouse had ridden up.
One floor to go.
Julian broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face. Then, to Caleb: "Isn't she?"
"Breathtaking," Caleb agreed, his voice rough with want.
The elevator chimed, doors sliding open to reveal an empty hallway. We stumbled out, a tangle of wandering hands and hungry mouths. Caleb fumbled with his key card, cursing when it took three tries to unlock his door. Julian laughed, a warm sound that broke the tension.
"Some things never change," he teased. "Remember that time you couldn't get the dorm key to work?"
Caleb flipped my husband off. "That was once. I’m completely smooth with keys most of the time."
“Most of the time.”
The door finally opened, revealing Caleb's suite—a gorgeous corner room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Portland's glittering skyline. A king-sized bed dominated one wall, sleek mid-century furniture accenting the space.
"Wow," I breathed, distracted by the view. I walked over to the windows and looked out for a moment, letting my racing heart calm down.
"Impressed?" Caleb asked.
I turned to him, reaching for the top button of his shirt. "Very. But I'd rather look at you."
His hands covered mine, stilling them. "Are we really doing this?" he asked. "All three of us? With your wife?"
“Oh, is she my wife? I almost forgot.” Julian came up behind me, his hands finding the zipper of my dress. "We’re doing this. If you want to.”
Caleb's eyes darkened as Julian slowly lowered my zipper, exposing the curve of my spine. "I want to," he admitted. "Fuck, I've wanted to since I saw Nisha in that yoga class. And I didn’t even know she was yours."
“Better or worse now that you know she’s my wife?” Julian asked.
Caleb hesitated, then puffed out a breath. “Infinitely hotter.”
I smiled, finishing what I'd started, unbuttoning Caleb's shirt with deliberate slowness. "Show me," I challenged.
Something shifted in Caleb's expression—his reserve cracking like ice in spring thaw. He stepped forward, capturing my face between his hands, and kissed me with none of the hesitation from the elevator. This was a kiss like the one he’d given me in the yoga studio, full of hunger, pure and raw. Julian slid my dress from my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet while Caleb's tongue explored my mouth.
I stood between them in nothing but a black lace bra and matching thong, feeling powerful and vulnerable at once. Julian's hands skimmed my waist, cupping my breasts from behind while Caleb watched, his breathing ragged.
"Perfect, isn't she?" Julian said, thumbs brushing over my nipples through the lace. "Touch her, Caleb. She won't break."
Caleb shrugged out of his open shirt, revealing a lean, muscled torso that made my mouth water. Years of yoga had sculpted him into something almost unreal—broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, abs defined enough to count each ridge.
"Jesus, what do they feed you in England?" I laughed, trailing my fingers down his chest.
He smiled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "My family? Parental disappointment and tea."
Julian snorted, reaching for his own buttons. "He was always the pretty one. Used to drive me fucking crazy watching women fall all over him in college."
