Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(107)
“I’m sitting here with far too good a view of your balls,” Jon said. “I’m not sure I have an appetite.”
“You wouldn’t be seeing my balls if you weren’t looking at my sub’s ass. Which always gives me a hell of an appetite. Though not for pizza.” Peter murmured to Dana and she lifted herself up on unsteady arms, so he could tuck himself back in and refasten his jeans. He sat up, clasping his arms around her, and scooted to the end of the table, his long legs easily finding their way to an upright position on the carpet. Holding her against him, her arms and legs wrapped around him, Peter found a chair a few feet from them.
As he sat down, he shifted Dana into a similar cradling position as Jon’s grip on Rachel. Peter rolled his chair to the table and picked up his open, unfinished beer. Taking a swig, he offered a sip to Dana, holding the bottle for her. “We’ll get you some water in a few minutes, since that won’t hydrate you,” he told her.
She nodded and dropped her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes.
“I can—” Rachel started to say, but Jon made a quelling noise and stroked the side of her throat.
“You do nothing right now but what I tell you. You’ve taken good care of us. Now we’re taking care of the two of you.”
In truth, that was probably a good idea. Even saying those two words had been an effort. Post-subspace haze was a contented, lovely place to float, so she just listened to the men’s voices as they discussed which pizza place should do the delivery. She was vaguely aware of the door opening and the others returning. She didn’t know if the climactic shrieking had given them a sense of when things were concluded, but she’d already seen just how well the men picked up cues from one another during multiple partner sex; figuring out when they should come back into a room for pizza was a piece of cake.
“I’m thinking Jon and Peter had the ultimate winning hands tonight,” Ben said, rocking back in his chair and tossing a balled-up napkin in Lucas’s direction. Lucas caught it and two-pointed it into the nearby trash. “After pizza,” the lawyer added, “I’m headed out to Progeny to enjoy a sub or four while you married folk head home to your cable and slippers. Unless anyone wants to join me.”
Though he spoke casually, teasing them, something about his tone struck Rachel’s empathic radar. Gazing at him through half-closed eyes, she realized for the first time what it must feel like, to be the sole member of this pack without a committed submissive. Ben didn’t show a lot of emotion about things like that, but she noticed she wasn’t the only one who had concerns about it. Peter and Lucas had exchanged a look that was faintly troubled; the look of friends who weren’t yet sure the best course to help another friend who might be hurting—or lonely.
For now, they let it pass, but she suspected the subject would be visited again. They’d watch out for him. It comforted her on Ben’s behalf. She knew what it was to be alone, to think she was going to reach the end of her life never once having the experience of being loved wholly, romantically, by another soul.
She suspected Ben would assert he wasn’t looking for that because he wasn’t wired that way, but she knew everyone was wired that way. She made a mental note to suggest to Jon that they do another guys’ night soon, with just the guys. Not that she had minded being part of this particular guys’ night.
“Yeah, M*A*S*H reruns,” Peter said with a grin. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Lucas and Matt have in mind to do with Cass and Savannah. Until they fall asleep on the couch in flannel PJs. What color are yours, Lucas?”
“Blue. M*A*S*H would be good. After I eat my fill of my wife’s gorgeous pussy and make her come, tied to the bed,” Lucas said absently. He was keying the pizza order into his phone. “Then hot chocolate. How about you, Matt?”
“Hmm.” The CEO swiveled back and forth on his chair, his expression thoughtful. There was a curve to his sensuous mouth and a sharpness to his gaze that told Rachel he wasn’t contemplating reruns. When he said nothing further, Ben spoke, a grin wreathing his face.
“That was Matt-speak for he’s going to go home and ravish his wife until she’s too weak to stand. Tie her up, bend her over that ten-thousand-dollar couch and make her beg for me, will you?”
Peter clucked. “You’re still holding a grudge about her counsel outmaneuvering you on last week’s deal.”
“They did not outmaneuver me. I strategically allowed them an advantage we’ll exploit in the next round. Hide and watch.”
Matt lifted a shoulder, drawing their attention. “I’m hoping she’ll be asleep.” His gaze passed over Rachel and Dana. Something heated flickered through Matt’s eyes. “She likes it when I wake her up.”
“That’s his version of a Penthouse letter,” Ben intoned, and grinned when Matt flipped him off.
Rachel could well imagine all the things that one simple sentence could mean. “She likes it when I wake her up.” Jon had woken her up more than once in memorable ways. She’d drifted out of dreams into the real-life dream of Jon’s mouth on her body, his demanding hands compelling her blissful surrender.
Though she couldn’t imagine her body rousing once more tonight, the thought did cause some lower stomach stirrings. As Jon’s arms tightened around her, she wondered if he was having similar thoughts. She tipped her head up to gaze at his extraordinary face.