Gordon, Solara - Jet Lag Blues (Siren Publishing PolyAmour) Read online

  Unpacking her suitcase, she hung her extra flight attendant uniform alongside her coat. What she needed was a long soak to take the chill out of her. With only a shower stall, she’d have to make due with a quick hot shower. Hopefully, there was enough hot water for the three of them.

  At the rear of the closet, three shelves provided added storage. She placed her extra clothing and toiletries on one shelf. Her panties and bras looked out of place out in the open. Would the guys ignore them or remark about them? She loved color, especially soft pastels. There were no regulations on underwear colors, so she wore what she liked. Besides, Darryl already knew about this like she did about his white briefs and T-shirts.

  Mason was another matter. He rushed past her, clutching a piece of red cloth as he headed toward the bathroom.

  “I get dibs on the shower,” he called out, clicking the door shut.

  “What’s with you two and the looks at Walmart?” Val shook her head and walked over to the table where Darryl sat clipping price tags off his purchases.

  “Nothing, hon. You know how guys talk.” His wry grin set off an uneasy feeling. Their actions raised her anxiety level. Rubbing her arms, she sat in the chair next to Darryl.

  “I suppose I’m cooking. Unless one of you can do it without messing up everything and setting off the smoke detector.”

  “You know the extent of my culinary skills, and Mason’s limited repertoire doesn’t cover what we bought.” Darryl offered his hand. “Besides, you look like you could use a hug. What’s bothering you?”

  She could say nothing, like him. Keep her uneasiness bottled up. Of course, it wouldn’t help the butterflies and acid mix bubbling in her stomach. How much did she say without Mason present? Three days together in close quarters could make or break their friendship, along with her and Darryl’s relationship. Deciding the less said, the better, she leaned against him. “I’m just tired and hungry. And a bit worried about Mason. He seems stressed.”

  * * * *

  Darryl slipped his arm around Val’s waist, snuggling her closer. “He’s been working some strange hours. I imagine a few days off is what he needs.”

  He kissed her cheek and hugged her. “Why don’t you start dinner while I unpack Mason’s and my stuff?”

  “Only if I get to decide what we have.” Her folded arms and intent expression made him swallow his cheeky retort. Three days with each of them in foul humor? No, that was unacceptable.

  “How about this? We decide on a themed meal and open the wine we got.”

  He wished Mason had talked more while they were at Walmart. His cryptic answers left too many variables unknown. He’d agreed Val was a hottie. That he liked her. But his less-than-enthusiastic discussion in the pharmacy area puzzled Darryl. Time for clarification had come.

  “Let me ask Mason what he wants hung up and grab a shower myself. I promise to leave you a few drops of water.”

  Rising, he grabbed a pair of sleep shorts off the table and brushed his lips across hers. “Don’t stress. It’s gonna be okay.”

  Chapter Three

  Mason stripped off his light blue boxers and kicked them away with his foot. His semi-hard cock stuck out as though it accused him of being guilty. He didn’t need more reminders of where his thoughts ran every time he looked at the box of condoms Darryl had insisted on getting. The heated air from the overhead fan felt good circulating along his aching shoulders and neck. Turning toward the shower, he saw his reflection in the full-length mirror.

  “Shit, I’d worry, too, if I saw someone scowling like that.” He forced a smile to his pursed lips. It looked just as ridiculous. What had him so tense?

  His otherwise neat hair stood up in several places. How many times had he run his hands through it since entering the bathroom? The tired lines creasing his brow and the rigid set of his jaw didn’t fool anyone. He was upset. Why? Getting that figured out would help him regain his composure.

  Val got him so hot and bothered. Her long legs filled his mind with thoughts of her wrapped around him as he pumped her, bringing her closer to creaming all over him. Pictures of her in her pajama shorts sprawled on the floor came to mind. Her soft kisses in between movies left him wanting to touch her and deepen the kiss. Hell, even the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest as she hugged the stuffing out him recently had struck a nerve he hadn’t been aware of. Val was the one. The girl he’d missed out on. Now she was with Darryl. A guy didn’t hit on his friend’s lady.

  Sliding his hands down his chest, Mason stopped at his waist. His back hurt from sitting in the cramped cockpit and stifling his emotions to the point of denial. Raising his right arm, he leaned to the left, stretching and pulling his cramped muscles. He repeated the same with the left side. Two deep bends backward and forward finished with a set of toe touches helped some. Each time he neared his cock, one image flashed through his mind—Val between his legs licking his balls and fondling his hardness. His fingers stroked the pre-cum leaking from the tip.

  Coating the head, he rubbed his palm over and around his sensitive tip. A sharp hiss heated the air. His other hand cupped his balls, fondling them gently, adding pressure and friction to his actions. Turning slightly, he watched himself in the mirror. His voyeur side kicked in. He didn’t care who he was viewing. Only that he could see the act in front of him mattered.

  His grip tightened with each glide toward his balls, slicking his shaft with his growing wetness. He relaxed his hand on his upward stroke, stopping short of his cockhead. God, he loved the building need and slight buzz he got teasing himself along the edge of coming. The longer he waited, the more it built in intensity and rush. He was so close.

  His eyes squinted, though he knew his reflection stared back, matching him stroke for stroke. There was a certain turn on seeing his pleasure acted out before him. If he closed his eyes, he’d lose his peak and the rough buildup to a hot, hard come. A few more strokes and he’d be over the edge.

  He bit his lip to prevent more sound from escaping. God, he was so damn close. “Yesss.” He was going to…

  A hard knock sounded on the door. Darryl cracked open the door, asking “Mason, mind if I come in?”

  Shit, what did Darryl want? Mason jerked his hands away from his cock and grabbed the towel closest to him. Wiping his palms, he tossed the towel on the floor like a bathmat and turned on the shower. His shampoo and soap sat on the edge of the shower’s small rear shelf. The semi-opaque curtain offered cover and privacy. He’d rather Darryl not catch him with a hard-on or start asking questions. “Give me a moment. I was just getting in.”

  Lukewarm water spattered his hand as he thrust it under the running faucet. Rather than waste time adjusting the temperature more, Mason jumped under the spray as he pulled the curtain shut.

  “Come on in. What’s up?” He hoped his voice sounded somewhat normal and maybe a bit tired.

  * * * *

  Darryl shut the door loudly. The click echoed briefly over the noise of the shower. He glanced around the bathroom. The cabinet-enclosed sink held four plastic-wrapped glasses and Mason’s watch. He smiled at the hastily strewn clothes.

  “Val and I are hungry. Since she’s cooking, how about we come up with choices that are easy?”

  “Uh, okay. What did you have in mind?” Mason’s shadowed movements indicated he was hurrying through his shower.

  “Slow down in there. You’ve got a few. How about a picnic theme? Sandwiches, fruit, and snacks with some wine. Toss some blankets and a few pillows on the floor.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll be done shortly. Who’s next?”

  “Me. I’ll hang up your uniform while you dry off. Leave the shower running, but cut back the heat. The steam is building up in here.”

  “Thanks. Leave my shorts please.”

  Darryl laid the hot red sleeping shorts atop the commode. Mason’s flabbergasted look when he’d realized they were the only pair left in his size was a hoot. He smiled, thinking about what Val’s reaction would
be when she saw them. Red was not one of Mason’s favorite colors. Ah well, for the next couple of days, he’d have to make do.

  “Leave my boxers, too, please.” Mason’s drawn-out “please” sparked questions Darryl decided to leave unasked. Poor man must be tired and dragged out. He didn’t bother with underwear at home.

  * * * *

  Darryl pulled the door shut, leaving Mason to finish his shower in peace.

  “How about a picnic theme for dinner?” Val’s gaze and shrug worried him. This wasn’t her. What had her upset?

  “Talk to me while I hang Mason’s things up. He’s almost done with his shower.” Darryl entered the closet and placed Mason’s uniform pants and shirt on one hanger. His sweater went on another. “What’s wrong?”

  “How much preparation are you expecting? I want a shower before I’m too tired to care or eat.”

  “What about finger foods and sandwiches? I can warm up the sandwiches while you shower. I already put the wine to chill, though scooping up some snow with the ice bucket might help.”

  Val smiled and shook her head. “Ever practical. How is Mason helping?”

  “Oh, leave that to me.” Darryl grinned and entered the bathroom, his blue shorts sticking out of his pants pocket.

  Mason wrapped the towel tighter around his waist. He hated wearing boxers and shorts together. But the thought of asking Darryl or Val to hand him a pair of briefs set his stomach off and his heart skipped a beat. At home with his roommate was one thing, but with Val present was another. Why did he feel like he needed to be on his best behavior? A huge knot throbbed at the base of his neck. Sexual tension and need threatened to overcome his small reserve of self-control. Maybe he needed to eat and sleep.

  Darryl’s hard knock hurried Mason’s dressing. Tossing his damp towels on the floor, he smirked at his reflection. Hot red shorts with a hint of blue boxers peeking out below them. What a sight he made. It was too late to worry about it now.

  Chapter Four

  “Who’s next?” Mason called out, opening the door. Darryl’s nod and arched eyebrows tightened the knot growing across his shoulders and the new one forming in his groin. He wished Darryl would come out and say what plans he had in mind. Asking him about his thoughts and views on Val in the middle of Walmart had Mason wondering if Darryl suspected his sexual attraction to her. Was he trying to get him to admit it? What if he did? The one time he’d done so with another friend had gotten him a black eye and a busted lip. And a ruined friendship. He didn’t want that to happen nor lose Val’s friendship, either.

  Catching her tired gaze, he stepped aside and let Darryl enter.

  “Hang on one moment,” Darryl whispered as he passed.

  Mason hung near the door, waiting to see what he wanted.

  * * * *

  Darryl pushed the door partway closed and leaned toward Mason. “Help Val out with making the sandwiches and offer to rub her feet once you’re done. She’s limping from wearing those heels all day. Surprise her with the slipper socks we got and see if she’d like a glass of wine before her shower.”

  Mason’s silent nod and puzzled expression struck him as odd. Usually they needed few words to communicate when their ideas ran in tandem. Was Mason tuning him out? Or being obtuse for a reason? He hoped he spoke up soon.

  * * * *

  Darryl clicked the door shut and shucked his hot, sticky clothes. Glad to be out of them, he entered the shower. Warm water cascaded over his head and down his front. Reaching for the shampoo, a scene unfolded in his mind. He wished Mason could pick up on his thoughts better. He’d be helping Val relax very well if Mason caught on to this one.

  Working the suds into his scalp, Darryl closed his eyes and let his mind wander. His thoughts formed pictures, bringing one of his fantasies to life.

  Val stood before them wearing a light, mauve-colored teddy. The white ribbon holding the top part closed laced down the front, ending just below her pert breasts. Thin straps covered her lightly tanned shoulders and at the rim of her pubis, another bow sat. As she turned, modeling the lingerie for them, the edge of the high-cut sides showed off her long legs and defined calves. He loved breasts, and Mason went for legs.

  A slight turn more and her rounded firm buttocks came into view. The thong barely covered the cleft of her twin cheeks.

  He grew harder as the fantasy played out in his mind. His soap-slicked hands stroked down his chest, stopping at his nipples. Plucking and twisting them, Darryl groaned and rocked his hips back and forth. The scene in his head changed.

  Val walked toward him with a short leather quirt in her hand. She lashed the air, testing its stiffness and the cut of its movement. In her other hand, she held two clothespins. His nipples peaked, growing tauter the closer she came. Working his hand down over his stomach, he raked his sharp nails around and across the sensitive area between his ribs and navel. He inhaled and bit his lip to keep his noise down. Pain edged his excitement higher. His cock jerked as Val clamped first one nipple then the other.

  He grabbed his cock and squeezed. Exquisite torment raced up his shaft and pooled over his balls. Two more strokes and he’d come. A hot, hard come…yes—Val cracked the quirt against his ass and commanded he be quiet and service himself without further noise.

  Soaping his hand, he quickly washed and treated himself to a small, fast orgasm. He wanted to coat his cock with K-Y jelly, bury it deep in her anus, and pump himself dry. What an ass and pain slut he’d become!

  He soaped and rinsed again, cleaning away all traces of his sexual play. Having taken the edge off his horniness, Darryl dried off and donned his shorts. He’d lucked out with a pair of lined lightweight sleep shorts. He didn’t have to worry about briefs.

  Opening the door, Val’s moans greeted him.

  Darryl reached down and adjusted the crotch of his shorts. Damn, he thought he’d taken the edge off his desire. One moan from Val and his cock throbbed tight against his shorts.

  “Oh, yes! That is so go–ooo–od!”

  Val’s vocal punched him in the gut. What the hell was Mason doing? They hadn’t discussed tactics beyond a foot massage and helping with dinner. He started through the doorway.

  Two words echoed in his conscience—foot massage. He halted, his mouth open ready to speak. Should he peer around the wall and confirm what was happening? Announce his entrance?

  What if they were doing something else? How should he handle it? He didn’t mind, or did he? But at least being informed would be nice.

  Darryl sucked in his breath at Val’s next moan. He trusted Mason. Maybe there were limits to trust. Their previous threesomes didn’t involve someone this close to them, nor someone who cared as much about each other as they did.

  Darryl swallowed hard and shook his head. The sooner he knew what was going on the better he’d feel. Sharing and knowing were one thing. Sharing and not enough info was making him uneasy.

  Clearing his throat, he stuck his head around the wall and grinned.

  Chapter Five

  Mason looked up from where he knelt on the floor. Next to him sat Val’s bottle of cocoa butter and shea lotion. One slicked hand held her heel, and the other grasped her calf. She lay back propped on her elbows. Her broad grin and relaxed gaze slapped Darryl’s retort down his throat.

  * * * *

  Val sat up and touched Mason’s shoulder. “Thanks, I needed that.”

  She rose and approached Darryl. “He gives great foot rubs. Thanks for suggesting it.”

  She kissed his cheek and whispered, “Any hot water left?”

  “Uhmm—yeah.” He took in her glassy-eyed gaze, wondering what else had occurred while he showered.

  “Thank you for the lovely slippers and robe,” she murmured, patting his cheek.

  She winked and sauntered into the bathroom, clutching the bag containing her gifts.

  * * * *

  Robe? What robe? Mason hadn’t said much in Walmart. Was he acting on his own? Darryl clenched his hands and silently
counted to ten.

  Stop. Ask questions Remember he’s your best friend. His conscience tried to thwart his ego and the green-eyed monster struggling to burst forth. Jealousy hadn’t gripped him before. Why now? Because you’re in love with Val. She’s important in more ways than the other women ever were.

  Two words rolled through his thoughts—assume and quiet. He’d learned this fact not once, but a few times before it sunk in. Darryl wasn’t blowing another friendship or relationship due to either assuming or keeping quiet.

  The solid click of the door closing drew him from his musing. He shook his head and sat down at the table.

  Mason rose and joined him. “I can see something is bugging you. Want to get it off your chest?”

  “I’m not angry. Confused is probably a good word. What’s with the robe?” He faced Mason and looked him in the eye.

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell you. When I went to the pharmacy, I saw it hanging on a rack. It sorta matched the slippers. Sorry.” Mason laid his hand out, palm up on the table. “I figured Val might want an extra layer depending on what she brought to sleep in.”

  Darryl inhaled deeply and smiled. “I forget sometimes how thoughtful you are. Thanks.” He grasped Mason’s hand and squeezed. “No hard feelings.”

  * * * *

  Val pressed her ear to the door. Their muffled voices reached her. She couldn’t make out what they said. Probably planning again. Eventually, they’d tell her. Even though she trusted them, she preferred knowing to not knowing. Too many past surprises had gone awry for her to be comfortable with them.