A Wicked Swingers Weekend Box Set: All Three Episodes! (First Time Bisexual Swinger Contemporary Romance ): All Three Episodes Value Priced Read online

  I touched her arm with the glass to get her attention. She took it from me, flashing a grin, and I patted my lips with two fingers, signaling I was going outside for a smoke. I sighed at the roll of her eyes and frown before she turned back to the blond haired guy.

  Whatever. She was lucky I was here, let alone stand waiting to pay court to Phil Masters. I ducked and dived once more and finally made it to the wide wooden verandah. The air was a bit nippy and I zipped my coat after fishing my cigarettes out of the pocket. Holding one between my fingers, the drink now safely balanced on the railing, I thrust my free hand into my pocket. Damn. I’d left my lighter at home.

  “Here. Let me help.”

  A flame flashed and I looked up into Phil’s dark eyes, his lips pulled to the side, smirking. In his other hand I saw the red, glowing tip of a cigarette.

  My lips parted and I tried to tear my eyes from his face. There was a reason he attracted women so easily. Even though I was no fan, I had to admit he was total eye candy. “Oh. Thanks.”

  He lit my cigarette and I inhaled deeply, and turned to face the quiet street. After the racket inside, the cool air and quiet were refreshing. If he thought I was going to go ‘ga-ga’ because he was standing next to me, he had another think coming. Plus, what was he doing outside, when Susanne had nearly busted a gut to get to meet him? He might be Mr. Universe, but she was no slouch in the looks department either.

  He stepped closer and leaned his forearms on the railing, and gave me a sidelong look. “I’ve seen you around. You’re in second year, right? Business major?”

  My mouth dropped and eyebrows pulled together staring at him. How could he know that? Sure I’d noticed HIM, you’d have to be living under a rock not to know who HE was, but he knew me? Ohmygod, he must have asked around.

  “I’m Phil Masters.” He thrust his hand out, and waited for me to take it.

  “I know.” I gave my head a little shake and extended my hand to grip his. “I’m Maggie Sorensen.” I looked at the cigarette in his other hand. “Aren’t you captain of the swim team? Thought you athletic types didn’t smoke.”

  He put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone. I’m trying to quit but…” He sighed heavily, which ended with his lips pulling a frown. “It’s parties like this. I actually hate this kind of thing. If it weren’t for Brad and Gus dragging me along, I’d be home reading.” He glanced at the street, taking a haul off his cigarette.

  I glanced at his profile, my eyes wide, grateful that he had looked away. The streetlight cast a glow on his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, straight, perfect nose and the stubble of dark beard on his chin and upper lip. It was hard to reconcile the handsome face, tall athletic body with a guy who preferred being home alone, reading rather than being the center of female attention. I’d seen him at too many parties.

  His lips pursed sideways exhaling in a long, slow breath before he once more turned to face me. “How ‘bout you? What’s your excuse for being here?”

  He must have noticed my eyes flash wide for a moment because he added, “I mean out here…you’re not inside with your friend, having a good time?”

  Despite my resolve to not give in to his charm, a smile played at the corner of my lips. If what he said was true, then maybe he wasn’t as shallow as I’d first believed. Women tended to throw themselves at him—did he not see that or…care? Or maybe…he was interested in meeting me? He certainly knew enough about my major.

  “Actually, I’m only here for my friend. She wanted to come but I’ve got a mid-term I should be studying for. It’s mid morning tomorrow and I’m anything but ready.” I took a drag from the cigarette and turned at the sound of footsteps behind me.

  “Maggie?” Suzanne may have called out to me but it was Phil she looked at when she joined us.

  “Sorry. I’m almost finished. I was going to join you as soon as…“ I may just have well have been talking to the wind from the attention she paid to my voice. It was almost embarrassing the way she gawked at him.

  “I’m Susanne—“

  His eyes drifted to her face for a moment, “Hi,” and then back to gaze at me. He flicked the cigarette away almost as quickly as he had dismissed my roommate. “Would you like me to walk you home? I mean, I’ve had enough of this place and you should be studying.” He turned to Suzanne once more. “You don’t mind do you? Brad and you seemed to be—“

  “No, no. that’s fine.” She glanced at me, her face a mask of acceptance, and then back to Phil.

  “Susanne, I can wait—“But I got no further before she placed her hand on my arm.

  “Go!” Her eyes were wide, voice just a little too insistent before she turned and went back into the house.

  Oh shit. My stomach was a leaden lump as I watched her storm away. He may not have noticed the surprise and hurt in her eyes but I sure had. How would I ever make this up to her?

  At his touch on my arm, stepping towards the stairs leading down from the verandah, I glanced up at him, trying not to notice the dimple in his cheek framing the warm smile or the playful look in his eyes.

  I held back for a moment, sneaking a look at the doorway. “I don’t think I should—“

  “Don’t be silly. It’s the perfect escape…for both of us.” His fingers tugged at the sleeve of my jacket. His eyes were wide, promising…promising…? It was like playing hooky wandering next to a stream, pausing only to toss a rock or wade barefoot.

  With a swift shake of my head, flicking the cigarette into the night, I joined him. For a few beats, walking side by side, close but not touching, the silence was palpable.

  “Maggie. I’ve always liked that name. Maggie-May…like the old song.” He grinned at me, his eyes dancing in the light.

  The way he said it, teasing yet still sincere, thawed the edges of the Susanne guilt. But still, it wouldn’t be right to play along, flirt even, not when Suzanne was the one interested in him. My voice was casual, face turned up to the sky where the slivery haze surrounding the moon was broken only by the fleeting wisps of cloud. “Definitely not Maggie May. You’re the senior here, not me. Besides which, that’s a stripper song.”

  At his guffaw, I turned to look at him. When he laughed, his eyes had a way of crinkling at the corners, the dimples deep on both cheeks, lips wide above dazzling teeth. “A stripper song? And you would know this…how? Don’t tell me, you—”

  My neck flamed scarlet and I stopped in mid-step. “NO!”

  “Oh my God. It just hit me, who you remind me of…” His jaw jutted below eyes that were wide.

  “Wha—-?”

  “Demi Moore.” Mouth gaping open, his head jerked towards me. “Same dark eyes, shoulder length hair and your smile. But it was the stripper thing. Holy cow, was she hot in that movie!”

  Before I knew it, my hand flashed out and landed a sharp slap on his upper arm. My eyes were narrow, lips a straight line glaring at him. Was this meant to be some kind of compliment? Picturing and comparing me to her, in that movie? I was no prude but the scene he had conjured up in my mind had been more than a little suggestive—it was downright pornographic. The nerve!

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. Although why I’m apologizing when you just hit me—“ His lips twitched, trying to keep his face solemn as a dark comma of hair fell across his brow.

  My heart raced; a fluttery sensation spread from my tummy to my fingertips. Oh God, he was so damned good looking, with the boyish, smartass charm that had always been my weakness, like chocolate during the season of Lent. A grin spread over my face and I shook my head, and turned to resume walking.

  His hand flew to my arm, stopped me and pulled me around to look up into eyes that were soft, like liquid pools of chocolate. There was that chocolate again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything disrespectful or anything. It’s just that…” His eyes closed for a moment and he paused, seemed to be making some kind of decision. “I’ve noticed you on campus. When you showed up at the party…I was flabbergasted. And th
en you disappeared. Thank God I hadn’t given up smoking, yet.”

  My arm seemed to burn where he touched me, but more than that, my cheeks blazoned as I succumbed to the spell of his eyes, the fullness of his lower lip.

  Footsteps behind me and the soft murmur of voices caused me to turn away. An elderly couple, her arm looped in his, was being led by a small dog, sniffing his way along. I stepped to the side to allow than by.

  Phil stood close to me, his eyes still boring into my face.

  A long sigh passed my lips, unaware I’d been holding my breath. “But Susanne…” Before I knew it, the words were out there.

  “What? Who?” His eyebrows drew so tight, they almost met above his eyes.

  I pulled away from his hand and once more started walking. The situation was ridiculous and impossible. I’m not THAT kind of friend—the kind who would drop you if a good looking guy so much as smiled in their direction. “Look, I went to the party because my best friend and roommate wanted to meet you. Susanne. Remember her?” Please God, don’t let him be that shallow.

  “Oh. Yes, her. I remember.” He walked beside me silently for a few steps.

  The lump was back again in my stomach and had spread to weigh my feet in a slow pace. He was probably picturing her big blue eyes, the high cheekbones and Kewpie-doll pink lips, wondering if he should have stayed at the party.

  I stopped at the end of the block, looking both ways for on-coming traffic, trying hard to appear nonchalant and not look at him. I bit my tongue trying to contain the smartass comment that itched to leave my lips. ‘It’s okay. You bet on the wrong horse, even if she looks like Demi fucking Moore. You’re more apt to get laid by—’

  “Hang on.” Once more he gripped my arm and stopped me as we stepped up onto the sidewalk from the street. “Just because Susanne wanted to meet me…does that mean that we can’t be friends, or…more? I’m not interested in her or anyone like her.” He tucked a lock of hair that had fallen across my cheek, behind my ear.

  My throat and mouth went dry. I couldn’t have spoken even if I knew what to say to this. Such a casual yet familiar gesture, his hand on my face, bordering on the intimate. When he grinned down into my eyes, my knees became rubbery, gummy-bear candy, threatening to melt.

  “I’ve always had a thing for Demi Moore, not some Carmen Diaz wannabe.” His voice was gentle, his eyes once more laughing and warm.

  I smiled and he slipped his hand over mine, gave it a gentle squeeze before leading me home.

  That was how it started.

  Susanne got over it eventually and we parted friends at graduation, although we haven’t kept in touch.

  Now, six years later, married to Phil, it seems like a lifetime ago, the night that we met.

  Chapter 3: Phil

  There was just enough time to get in a half hour of laps and get changed before Gus was due to arrive. I slipped my shirt over my head, folded it and placed it on the bed. As I unbuckled my belt and slid the zipper down, Maggie strolled into the room. She didn’t look too happy about being there, but managed a small smile nonetheless.

  I avoided her eyes, focusing on my foot sliding out of the sneaker. Thank God it was Saturday and a nice day at that. We’d start with drinks by the pool and then BBQ some steaks. God only knew that Maggie would probably appreciate a few stiff ones, suffering through Gus’s visit.

  She still hadn’t warmed up to the idea despite my telling her how highly Gus talked about her. No, to her it was all part of what she termed his bullshit routine—all phony rhetoric. I took a deep breath and shed the jeans I’d worn cutting the grass. Noticing some green stains, I threw them in the hamper.

  As I lifted the bathrobe from the hook behind the door, I sneaked a sideways peek at her. She was perfectly made up, from the subtle shadow on her eyelids to the candy apple red of her pouty lips. Well, why wouldn’t she be? The discounts at the cosmetic counter in her store, the assortment of lipsticks and gels had long ago claimed all the counter space in the ensuite bath. I’m lucky to have a spot for my aftershave.

  Still, she looked really good in the sleeveless white blouse and denim mini-skirt. Her tanned legs, shapely and long, looked even longer with the high-heeled sandals. The muscles in her calves were strong with some definition, thanks to running a few times a week with Sophie.

  Sophie. I exhaled a puff of air and slipped my arms into the white terrycloth robe. Sophie would approve of how good Maggie looked; she’d probably cream her jeans. How Maggie couldn’t see it…the way Sophie looked at her, the casual hand draped over her back or on her arm, always so touchy feely.

  Sure she’d laughed when I mentioned it, but one day, she’d see. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Sophie was almost as tall as me, despite what Maggie had said. Women six feet tall were rare but they DID exist. Look at models. Hell a couple of women at work were over five ten.

  It wasn’t that I have anything against the woman or gays for that matter but…she made me a uncomfortable, that’s all.

  I glanced at Maggie and felt my stomach fall to my knees. It was like that for her, with Gus, wasn’t it? Yet here she was agreeing to play hostess, for a WEEK, for a guy she considered loud and obnoxious.

  “Have I told you lately I love you?” I stepped towards her and reached for her hand.

  Her head lowered, she looked up at me through long dark eyelashes, lower lip extended in a mischievous pout. “You’re just sucking up. It’ll take more than that.” Her eyes narrowed but her lips curled up in a smile. “You owe me big-time. I’m thinking a weekend in Chicago for starters.” Her hand snaked to the back of my neck and pulled me down till our lips brushed. “Shopping.”

  A shudder crept through me, despite the eighty degree air in the room. In my mind, I was there already—waiting outside change rooms, trailing in her wake through furniture stores and the worst yet, cutesy, novelty craft outlets. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can get anything you like but why not do it on-line? I’m all for a weekend in the big city, but let’s make it romantic, cultural even?”

  Her hands thrust playfully at my chest, pushing me away. “Oh you, Mr. Computer Geek. How long would I be managing the store if everybody shopped on-line?” She grinned up at me and winked. “But a weekend of romance…I think you could talk me into it.”

  I kissed the tip of her turned-up nose. “It’s a deal.” Gazing into her eyes, I slid my hands around her waist and pulled her close, lowered my grip until the supple cheeks of her ass filled my hands. Maybe we’d have time if I skipped my swim…My cock was hard already, pressing into her midriff.

  She squirmed away and flounced off towards the door of the bedroom, calling over her shoulder, “No way. If you think I’m sitting across from Gus, my pussy oozing cum, looking like I was rode hard and put away wet, then you have another think coming. Pardon the pun, dear. This is going to be hard enough.” She let out a squeal of laughter and then continued, her voice becoming distant as she went into the kitchen. “Hard. God, I crack myself up.”

  I shook my head, smiling as I slid the screen door open and stepped onto the wooden deck. Sunlight cast jewels upon the turquoise water in the long rectangular pool as I strolled over the deck and onto the flagstone surface. Maggie may not have been keen on entertaining Gus but she’d set the patio table with colorful placemats and napkins, even had the large umbrella already up.

  My heart was light in my chest as I glanced through the kitchen window and saw the top of her dark head. She was probably standing at the sink, cutting vegetables for dinner. I slipped the robe off, slung it over the back of a chair and walked to the edge of the pool.

  Diving in, my chest was almost bursting. Could there be a guy as lucky as me? The water was comfortably cool on my skin, the sun a golden orb shining through the water as I surfaced. This place, isolated in the country where I could swim nude, the acre of landscaped gardens and grass surrounding my domain, a beautiful, loving wife in the kitchen and seeing my best buddy soon—what c
ould be better than this?

  ***

  Forty minutes later, standing in front of the picture window in the living room, I spied a red Mustang convertible pull off the main road into my driveway. “He’s here!”

  Ignoring Maggie’s sarcastic comment, I raced across the room and out the front door, just in time to see Gus pull up and shut the engine off. “Hey buddy! Right on time.”

  The grin on his face was a mile wide, sunglasses flipped to the top of his head, eyes taking in the house for a moment, before he emerged from the car.

  “Phil. How’rya? Arms like steel cables circled me in a tight, bear-hug before laying a couple of hearty claps on my back and holding me at arm’s length. We stood grinning, speechless for a few moments, surveying how the years had treated the other.

  He’d put on just a few pounds but it suited him, the shoulders as wide as any fullback’s above a massive chest, stomach still flat. There were fine lines on his forehead and extending from the corners of his eyes, framing his mouth but other than that, the cavernous grin and laughing blue eyes were the same. And the same sense of crazy style, in a colorful, flowered Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

  His head turned and once more he gazed at the house and front yard. “Nice digs, Phil. Looks like you’re doing all right for yourself.” His arms slipped from me and he turned back to the car, but I beat him to it, scooping the suitcase from the rear seat.

  “Thanks. I…I mean, WE like it.” The grin seemed to be plastered to my face as I stepped next to him and joined him, looking at the low, ranch bungalow.

  “Hey, where’s Maggie?” His eyebrows formed a question mark above eyes that were now wide.

  For just a second, the smile left my face but I stepped forward to the walkway, nodding my head. “Inside. C’mon, let’s get a drink and get you settled.”

  Behind me, following closely on my heels, his voice was low. “Is she okay with me staying for a week? I mean, we didn’t really part on the— ”