He's by himself when I come down the stairs to the living room. He’s sitting on the large sofa in the living area, surrounded by candlelight and a bottle of champagne waiting on the table. I notice there are only two glasses next to it. He's wearing a black suit and a black tie, looking extra dapper tonight with his dark hair gelled to the side. He had his hair cut a few days ago, and the undercut at the side of his face is freshly shaven. My heart flutters when he lays his eyes on me, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches me coming down the stairs.
"Perfect."
His praise means everything to me, and the look on his face tells me that it is sincere. I reciprocate it with a sassy smile. I close in on him, seductively swinging my hips because I know I look beautiful.
"So can I consider this a success?"
My question makes him laugh, and he gives me an appreciative nod. "Yes, Button. You did well. You look fantastic."
He gets up from his seat and walks up to me, placing his hands at the side of my body. He traces them slowly down, until he reaches my hips, where he hooks his fingers under the garter belt to pull me in for a kiss. His lips meet mine in a gentle welcome, patient and modest, but so sensual. I moan softly, wanting to lift my arms and wrap them around him, but I don't. Often enough, he has put me back into place, grabbing my wrists and moving my hands back to where he thought they belonged, far away from his magnificent body. I don't know why he's so weird about letting me touch him, but I couldn't take the denial right now, so I don't even try.
Our kiss grows in intensity, passionate heat taking over. He grabs my ass with savage force, pushing my pelvis against his, and I can feel his hardness growing.
Maybe there's no one else coming tonight? What if he just wanted me to believe that we'd get another man into our midst just to see how I would react, if I would be willing to go along with it?
I disregard that suspicion when I hear the familiar sound of the elevator behind us. Jared ends our kiss and smiles at me. A subtle ding sound announces someone’s arrival seconds before the doors open.
"Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes locked on mine.
"Yes, Sir."
I'm nodding, but my words lack the conviction I was hoping to convey. I don't think I could ever be truly ready for something like this, but I sure as hell am willing to try. For him.
I stay on the couch and don’t follow him, unsure what to do as he strides confidently toward the elevator. The doors open and a young man about my age enters. I was right to assume that he can be trusted when it comes to picking the right guy to join us. The young man whose hand he's shaking right now is without a doubt handsome. He’s very tall, though shorter than Jared, and has lighter-colored hair styled in a buzzcut. He's wearing a navy blue suit, and he’s dashingly handsome. The way the material hugs his broad shoulders and arms suggests that he's pretty buff, as well.
I want to own the moment and be the confident person I pride myself in being, but this situation is too intimidating, even for me. When the men turn around to face me, I turn into a statue, my eyes helplessly darting from one to the other as Jared introduces me with a wide, gallant gesture.
"This is Button," he simply says, possessively resting his hand on my shoulder. "Button, this is T."
The guy stops in front of me, smiling and nodding in appreciation.
"Your good taste never fails, Mr. King."
His eyes scan my entire body, in an almost leering way, and I can't decide whether I'm appalled or aroused. He's looking at me as if I was a piece of meat, but some sick part of me actually likes that.
"She's quite something," Jared agrees, putting his arms around me and surprising me by squeezing my tits before the other guy's eyes. Shameful heat burns on my cheeks and I turn my eyes away, expecting the other guy to join in and touch me just like Jared did. But he doesn't. He keeps his distance, just watching while Jared feels me up.
And then he stops, just as suddenly as he started.
"Let's have a drink," Jared says, beckoning the guy to sit on the sofa, but holding me back as I'm about follow. "Not you, Button. You stay."
I remain where I am, confused, while the men take their seats on the couch. The other guy is still staring, barely taking his eyes off of me for even a second. Jared notices it, too, and he comments with a proud smile.
"Open the bottle for us."
I look at him, my eyes darting between the champagne and Jared, puzzled. He usually opens the champagne; I've never done it before.
"Now, Button. We won't wait forever."
Jared points at the bottle impatiently. I follow his motion and pick up the bottle. Their eyes weigh on me, adding pressure to an already difficult situation, as I try to handle the cork on the bottle. I shriek in surprise when it shoots out unexpectedly, flying across the room and landing behind the sofa, the bubbly liquid foaming up and spilling all over the floor.
The men chuckle as I try to save it by hurrying to bring the bottle to the glasses, filling them a little too quickly and failing in my effort, the bubbly liquid spilling over the rims of the glasses. Damn it. Did he shake the bottle beforehand?
"Poor thing," the other guy, T, comments.
Jared throws him a look that's hard to read. "She tries."
I'm shaking when I hand them the glasses, but I feel even worse once I'm done serving them because I don't know what to do. I stand before them in my barely-there outfit, awkwardly crossing my arms in front of me while they clink glasses and enjoy their champagne.
"Do you want some, too, Button?" Jared asks.
I look at him, nodding. "Yes. Please, Sir."
"Earn it," he says. "Turn around and lean forward; show us that beautiful ass of yours."
Shame mixes with my arousal as I obey his command, trying to look my best while I balance on my heels, slightly leaning forward and cupping my ass with my hands, because I know it looks better that way. I hear groans of approval behind my back, and my heart skips a beat.
"Good girl. Now turn back to face us."
I straighten up and turn around to them, noticing that the other guy is stroking his crotch as he’s watching me. Jared is nonchalantly sitting a few inches away from him, holding his glass in one hand while the other rests on the back of the sofa. His face is frozen in a serious expression, his eyes narrowed, as if he's concentrating very hard.
"Show us your beautiful tits."
I look at him quizzically.
"Lose the bra, Button."
"Yes, Sir."
I open the clasp of my bra at my back and slowly expose my breasts to them. Jared's face doesn't move an inch, while the other guy meets my obedient motion with an approving gasp.
"Fuck," I hear him breathe, but Jared throws him a warning look. Apparently, there are rules for T to follow, as well.
"Very good girl," he praises. "Now, down on your knees and crawl over here."
I lower myself down on the hardwood floor, ignoring the rush of humiliating heat running through my body as I slowly approach the men crouched on all fours. I'm instinctively drawn to Jared, even though he never told me to come to him. Sitting on my heels in front of him, he greets me by cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples, pulling me closer to give me a taste of the sweet champagne that he kept for me in his mouth. Our lips lock for a kiss and I drink in the golden liquid as his hands explore my body, claiming me, feeling me up as if he was touching me for the first time.