Page 81 of Better When Shared
Caleb blinked, frowning. “But we’re here for business—”
Juniper reached over and patted his hand. “I know that, sweetheart, but I don’t want to be a bother. We could go on our own? Or find another escort.”
I glanced at her, and realized from the sparkle in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing. Tristan would be the sexiest escort. “What about your cousin Gemma. Or Tristan?”
Caleb tilted his head, tapping his pen on the table. "Well, I suppose Tristan knows the property inside and out. He’s an expert on that region, since he spent a lot of time there as a child. I’ll ask if he's available to show you around, but he never takes time off, so don’t get your hopes up."
“Oh, I’m sure you can figure out how to convince him,” Juniper said, beaming.
“He’s a tough one to crack. Though news of the secret crochet habit made me wonder.” Caleb shook his head.
“Wonder what?” We all spun to find Tristan standing by the open door at the other end of the conference room.
Caleb cleared his throat. “If I left you behind to deal with too much. And if you might need a little time off, too.”
Tristan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you’re trying to convince me of.” So he’d been standing there for a bit.
“I double booked myself tomorrow,” Caleb said, grinning sheepishly. “Hoping you can show Marco and Juniper a property?”
“Yes, my schedule is completely free,” Tristan deadpanned.
I perked up. “Really? What a coincidence.”
Juniper elbowed me. “That was sarcasm, babe. But Tristan, if you’d be interested in traveling out with us to the Cotswolds to visit this historic mill, we’d be forever in your debt? Or maybe we can just rent a car?”
Tristan stared at us for a long moment. “Fine.”
“You’ll take us? Thank you!” Juniper squealed, jumping up and enveloping Tristan in a hug, before backing off, looking a little bashful. “Sorry, forgot you’re British.”
Chapter 6
Marco
We barely made it through our hotel room door before Juniper's mouth was on mine, hot and demanding. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she pressed me against the heavy wooden door, her body molding to mine with desperate hunger. The taste of her—mint and desire and something wild—made my head spin as her tongue swept against mine.
"Fuck, Marco," she gasped against my lips, her hands already working at my belt buckle. "Is it wrong for me to want him this much? We've barely talked to the man."
"Who cares? It's just a fantasy, and he's a sexy fantasy," I murmured. Her hands were tugging my shirt free, her mouth moving to my neck. I lifted her and carried her across the room. She wrapped her legs around my waist, grinding against my bulge in a way that made my vision blur.
I dropped her onto the massive four-poster bed that sat in the middle of the room. Some rational part of my mind told me to be careful, to avoid damaging the antique bed, but my hands were already on her, shoving her sundress up her thighs. Her legs were warm and silky soft under my palms, and when I reached the edge of her panties, I could feel how wet she already was.
"Tell me what you're thinking," she whispered, her eyes dark with lust. "Tell me what you want to do to him."
Her fingers found the front of my jeans, palming me through the fabric, the pressure adding to my need.
"I want to hear it. Want to know what my husband has been imagining. I could tell you were lost in a fantasy at that meeting."
I slid her panties down her legs, revealing the neat triangle of dark curls between her thighs. She was already glistening, her pussy swollen with arousal. The sight made my mouth water.
"I want to watch him fuck you," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended as I leaned down and kissed her stomach, her inner thighs. "To see that perfect control break when he slides inside your tight pussy."
I licked her clit, and her back arched off the bed, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Yes. Do I get to suck you while he's fucking me?"
As I licked her, I shoved my jeans and underwear off, freeing my erection. The head was already slick with pre-cum. I lifted myhead and met her eyes. "Yes. But I want to see his face when you wrap those beautiful lips around his dick. To watch him lose his mind when you take him deep in your throat while I'm inside you."
She spread her legs wider, inviting me in, and I crawled forward and positioned myself at her entrance. But instead of thrusting inside, I teased her with the head of my cock, dragging it through her wetness in slow strokes that made us both gasp.
"You want to watch," she said, her voice breathless. "But what about you? What do you want to do to him?"
