They drank their wine and talked a little more, and Damon shed his jacket, laying it aside on the edge of the bed. They kissed, cuddled, listened to the music, and did some people watching through their open curtain.

When Damon drained his glass, he moved closer to her, resting his palm full across her stomach, his thumb barely grazing the underside of her breast—and making her yearn for more. She’d grown pleasantly intoxicated throughout the night, and now she was getting pleasantly drunk on this place—the bold colors, the lush fabrics, the flirtatious people all around them.

“I want you,” she whispered.

He leaned his forehead over to touch hers, his look deliberate and pointed. “You’re gonna have me.”

Just then, Brenna caught a glimpse of a sexy leopard-print dress drifting past the edge of their bed—but then it stopped. Both she and Damon looked up.

“Damon Andros,” the girl in the dress said with a smile.

Hell. Yet another female fan. And this one was even more beautiful than most—her long, straight hair a stunning coppery color, her olive complexion flawless, her lips pouty and moist, the curves of her pert breasts peeking from inside the dress’s halter top.

“Jenelle,” Damon said, sitting up to greet her with a smile more sincere than when other women had approached him. “How the hell are you?”

The striking girl leaned her head back and gave a playful eye roll that—to Brenna’s surprise—made her instantly warm to her. That quickly, she seemed more likable and less affected than most of the women in Damon’s “fan club.”

“I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound okay. “Broke up with Danny.”

Damon tilted his head, his look slightly scolding. “I warned you about him.”

“Yeah, and I should have listened. Rat bastard cheated on me. With Darla.”

“Shit,” Damon said, sounding truly shocked.

At which point Jenelle shifted her focus to Brenna. “Darla’s my best friend,” she informed her as if they were pals. “Well, my ex–best friend.” Then she held out her hand across the bed. “I’m Jenelle.”

“Brenna,” she introduced herself, briefly taking the girl’s soft hand. “And…sorry about your boyfriend.”

Jenelle tossed her head in the other direction, clearly trying to play it off as no big deal, though it clearly was. “He didn’t deserve me,” she said, trying for a smile. “Which Damon told me the last time I saw him, like six months ago, but did I listen? No. Though you know how it is with some guys—how they’re just so hot and they just get under your skin somehow and make you crazy?”

Brenna didn’t used to know about that—but as of this week, yeah, she did. So she cast a smile that said she could relate. “Yeah, I do.”

“Brenna’s ex-husband was the same kind of rat bastard,” Damon said to Jenelle, then turned to Brenna. “I hope you don’t mind me sharing that.”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” Wayne was such old news—yet she liked that Damon understood how awful cheating was, and she knew Jenelle agreed.

“Your husband cheated on you?” Jenelle’s face twisted into an expression of true revulsion, as if she’d never heard such a terrible thing.

Brenna nodded, then summed it up simply. “He was an ass.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Jenelle leaned closer. “My God—you poor girl. I mean, it was horrible enough with Danny, but I can’t imagine how awful it would be with someone you’re married to.”

Brenna sighed. “Well, it definitely sucked. But the good news is—he’s history.”

“And now you’re hanging out at Rendezvous with yummy Damon.” Jenelle grinned.

“Indeed I am,” Brenna replied, and at the moment she couldn’t be sorry Wayne had driven her to end her marriage—given that Damon was an indisputable upgrade. She reached out to gently squeeze his knee through his blue jeans, and he covered her hand with his larger one.

“So you’re out and about enjoying the single life again, huh?” Damon asked Jenelle.

Like before, the gorgeous girl sighed but attempted to play if off lightly, smiling as she spoke. “Trying to get back on the horse is more like it. But I kind of messed up.” She scrunched her nose. “I came out alone tonight, thinking I’d see people I knew, or maybe meet someone nice, but I’ve basically just wandered around feeling lonely.”

Damon gave his head a doubtful tilt. “Don’t tell me no guys have put the moves on you in that dress, honey, or I’ll know you’re lying.”

She gave another light eye roll. “Oh, they have. But they were just…bleh. Too pushy. Or presumptuous. Or gross. That’s the problem when you go out looking to get laid. I can enjoy casual sex as much as the next girl, but it’s only fun if it happens naturally. Know what I mean?”

She looked to Brenna for that last part, so even though the only casual sex she’d ever had in her life was with Damon, and even though sex with Damon was starting to feel way more than casual, she said, “Absolutely.”

“So I think I’ll just go home and drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine, then sleep it off and start again tomorrow.” With that, she pushed to her feet. “It was nice meeting you,” she said to Brenna, “and great running into you, Damon. Call me the next time you’re in town and we’ll do lunch or something. I’m kind of hard up for friends right now because all of mine are hanging with Darla and Danny, the shit-heads.”

Despite wanting to be alone with Damon—well, as alone as one could be at Rendezvous—Brenna truly felt bad for Jenelle. It was one thing to lose your man, but another entirely to lose your friends at the same time. “If you’re just gonna go home and drink, we have wine here.” She motioned to the ice bucket, the bottle jutting from it. “Hang out a while.”

Jenelle tilted her head and flashed a knowing smile. “That’s sweet, but I don’t think you two came here to socialize—except maybe with each other.” She winked.

“We’ve got all night,” Brenna told her, not even embarrassed anymore that it was assumed she and Damon were going to have sex. And though it was already late, she’d learned that Las Vegas nights lasted longer—even for her—than nights most other places. She went so far as to pat the red velvet next to her. “Come on in and have a drink.”

Jenelle bit her lower lip, looking tempted, and Brenna was struck again by her beauty. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I won’t stay long.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” And even if it was a bit hard to believe she was inviting such a stunning girl into “their bed,” Brenna kept insisting because Jenelle was so much nicer than most women that attractive—and because hearing about her evening made Brenna realize that maybe life wasn’t always beautiful for the beautiful people. In fact, maybe it even sucked sometimes.

“Well then,” Jenelle said, “I’m headed to the bar for another glass—and I’ll grab another bottle of wine while I’m there. What kind?”

“Pinot,” Damon replied, then eased the bottle from the bucket to flash the label.

“Be right back,” Jenelle tossed over her shoulder with a smile just before the leopard-print dress disappeared.

After which Damon turned to Brenna, his eyes brimming with surprise.

“Are you bummed?” she asked. “That I asked her to stay?”

He smiled softly. “No—you’re right, we have all night. But it sure as hell caught me off guard.”

Brenna shrugged. “She seemed nice. And kind of adrift. Maybe I’m just thinking back to when my marriage broke up. It really sucks, especially when your friends in common have to choose sides.”

He nodded. “She is nice.”

“How do you know her?”

“She’s a showgirl—a dancer at the MGM now, but I originally met her when she danced at the Tropicana, at an after-show party. I’ve known her for years.”

“Have you had sex with her?”

“A long time ago. Just once.”

“Does she dance topless, like in the show we saw tonight?”

“Used to. But the last time I saw her, she’d just gotten promoted to a more prominent role where the costumes aren’t quite as revealing. In fact, I’m betting that has something to do with her troubles. Darla’s in the same show, and I don’t think she was happy when Jenelle rose to the feature spot.”

Brenna grimaced. “So you think Darla got together with Jenelle’s boyfriend for revenge?”

Damon shrugged. “Who knows, but it seems likely.”

Brenna couldn’t help thinking how ugly that was. And what a racy and competitive world Jenelle lived in. “What makes someone want to be a showgirl here?” she wondered aloud.

“Jenelle once told me she’d tried her damnedest to make it on Broadway, but couldn’t—her voice wasn’t strong enough. All she wanted to do in life was dance, so this seemed like the next best place.”

Just then, Jenelle reappeared, an uncorked bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other. “I’m back.”

“Come on in,” Brenna said, motioning her inside.

Jenelle lounged on the other side of Brenna, holding out her glass for Damon to fill. With Jenelle suddenly so much closer, Brenna’s attention was drawn unwittingly back to the other woman’s breasts, her cleavage looking tan and perfect. And for the first time, she also saw Jenelle’s feet—wrapped in red, strappy, fuck-me heels. Though Brenna would never have matched them with the leopard print, Jenelle had enough style to pull it off.

“This dress is gorgeous,” Jenelle said, reaching out to run one hand softly over the satin at Brenna’s hip.

Unbidden, Brenna’s pussy flinched at the touch—to leave her utterly unnerved. She took a long swallow of wine and tried to act normal. “Thanks.”

“Your boobs look great in it,” Jenelle added, her hand still on Brenna’s dress.

“Mmm—they do, don’t they?” Damon chimed in, leaning over to drop a small kiss on the ridge of Brenna’s breast. A shiver echoed through the small of her back—not only from the kiss but the fact that the curtain was still open, and Jenelle was still touching her, so casually, easily, as if such contact were commonplace. Maybe it was in her world.

“Yours look pretty fabulous, too,” Brenna then heard herself say to Jenelle.

God, what was she doing? Why had she said that? They did look fabulous, but since when did she hand out compliments on other women’s breasts?

Yet neither Jenelle or Damon seemed taken aback. Instead, Jenelle playfully jiggled her chest in the leopard print and replied, “That’s why I bought the dress.”

At which point Brenna recalled what Jenelle did for a living and decided it was probably completely normal in her circle of acquaintances for women to discuss their breasts.

But the crux of her thighs still felt heavy, and her mind spun, confused. Now she sort of wished she hadn’t invited Jenelle to stay. Because she just wanted to roll over into Damon’s arms and kiss him, touch him, have her way with him. The need had been building all night, and now, with an alarming suddenness, it was growing fierce, like it had last night in the gondola.

“So how do you two know each other?” Jenelle asked.

Damon answered, explaining about Brenna’s job change and why they were in Vegas.

“Wow—that’s so cool,” Jenelle said, finally moving her hand away as casually as she’d first placed it. “Congratulations.”

Brenna struggled to pretend she wasn’t burning up with lust. “Thanks. I’m really excited about it, and Damon’s been a great teacher.” Meeting his gaze, she—once again—couldn’t quite stop herself from spewing out her next thought. “In more ways than one.”

“Is that so?” Jenelle lowered her voice and cast a grin that said, Spill.

“Well,” Brenna began, trying to think how to answer—because she wasn’t going to admit to either one of them that she’d never had a casual affair before—“I hadn’t been with anyone since my divorce. And Damon…helped get me out of that rut.”

Next to her, Jenelle sighed. “I’m so jealous. I need somebody to get me out of my rut. I haven’t had sex in a month.” She said it like it had been a five-year drought.

But Brenna was beginning to understand something. Maybe you didn’t miss sex so much if what you had was average or even just good. Now that she’d had Damon, though, she knew she was going to miss it like crazy when it was over. Once you’d had mind-blowing sex, it would be harder to live without it—and she was guessing Jenelle had had plenty of mind-blowing sex.

Jenelle wanted to hear more about what they’d been doing since they’d arrived—what bars they’d hit, how many acts they’d signed, what restaurants they’d eaten at. They both supplied answers, and Brenna drained what was probably her fifth glass of wine tonight—thankful she’d stretched it out over so many hours or she’d have surely passed out by now.

“Today,” Damon went on, “I didn’t have much business to take care of, just a few phone calls, so I took Brenna shopping.”

“Oooh, what’d you buy?” Jenelle asked, her perfectly coiffed eyebrows raising.

Brenna couldn’t hold in her light grin. “Panties.”

Jenelle gave her head a conspiratorial tilt. “And I bet you’re wearing them right now.”

“I am,” Brenna confirmed, feeling drunker by the second.

“Which pair?” Damon asked.

“It’s…a surprise,” she said, teasing him the same way he’d teased her about surprises.

“I bet you went with…classic black,” Jenelle offered, “to go with that killer dress.”

“We did get a black pair, but I think she went with the red,” Damon decided. “Since I ruined her last red ones.”

Brenna let out another short laugh, since they were both wrong—but said nothing.

Until finally Jenelle reached across Brenna, slipping her red, polished nails into the side slit of Brenna’s dress and pushing it toward her hip to reveal a swatch of fabric—the front of her leopard-print thong.

“Oh my God, you totally match my dress,” Jenelle exclaimed, and Brenna was trying to fight the surge of moisture between her thighs even as Damon laughed and Jenelle went on. “Mine match your dress, too—so maybe we should trade,” she said on a giggle. “See?” Then rose to her knees and lifted her dress to show off her own thong, this one of pretty black lace.

Damon shifted, too—moving to shut the curtain.

“What are you doing?” Brenna asked.

Damon arched one eyebrow. “Well, if we’re gonna start showing each other our panties, it’s probably time to close it. Unless you want me to leave it open.”

“No,” Brenna said. Because it only made sense. Because both she and Jenelle’s dresses were pulled up high enough to show their thongs. Even though she wasn’t sure exactly how that had happened.

When Damon adjusted the curtain at the foot of the bed, the space seemed to grow smaller, more intimate. And even though they could still hear the music beyond, people laughing, and the occasional moan or groan from another bed, it still felt very much as if the three of them were alone.

Which is when Jenelle, still upright on her knees, leaned across Brenna to reach for the wine bottle, already needing a refill—but lost her balance and fell forward, across Brenna’s lap.

All three of them laughed, but Brenna felt more aroused than amused. She’d never been attracted to another woman before, but Jenelle’s slender body stretching across hers made her pussy tingle still more maddeningly. And hadn’t she also felt unwittingly aroused each time she saw those billboards with barely dressed women? Hadn’t she gotten aroused watching all those topless showgirls with Damon earlier, thinking once more about how on display sex was here? When you were so surrounded by beautiful people, men and women, didn’t it all somehow mix and gel together? Wasn’t it all arousing? Hell, like it or not, even Kelly’s touch on the day she’d hoisted Brenna’s breasts upward had gotten her a little hot.

“Sorry,” Jenelle said, still giggling, bracing her hands on the red velvet in order to raise up.

But when she did, something strange happened. She stopped mid-sway, hovering directly over Brenna, and let her gaze drop to Brenna’s chest. And when Jenelle spoke, her voice had dropped an octave. “Are those…as pretty as I think they are?”

Brenna could smell the fragrance of Jenelle’s shampoo as a lock of the other girl’s long, voluminous hair brushed the ridge of her breast. She could barely breathe at the question, finally saying, “You’d…have to ask Damon about that.”

They both shifted their eyes to find that pure animal heat had invaded his gaze. “Yes, they are,” he said definitively. And as Jenelle eased back down onto the bed, her tan shapely legs stretched out beside her, Damon reclined next to Brenna, sliding his palm onto her torso. “Why don’t I show you,” he suggested.

Brenna thought about protesting, but the truth was, she didn’t want to. She’d told herself she was ready for whatever the night held, and she couldn’t deny being curious, intrigued, to see where this most forbidden encounter would lead. So she simply watched as Damon used both hands to slip her dress off her shoulders, then dipped his fingers into the molded black satin that held her breasts, easing it down until they were fully bared, her nipples pink and erect.

Her gaze slid to Jenelle’s, but their eyes didn’t meet. Jenelle already studied her naked breasts, the tip of her tongue slipping out to touch her upper lip. Brenna’s heart beat madly, passionately.

Only after a long, tantalizing moment did Jenelle’s eyes finally lift to her face. “Can I kiss them?”

Brenna felt lost in a sea of confusing lust. She didn’t know how far to take this or what she wanted or how she would feel afterward.

Helpless, she looked to Damon—but he didn’t appear confused at all. He met her gaze darkly, and he moved his lips to say one word: yes.

Damon wanted this. Wanted to see her with another girl.

And what Damon wanted, she wanted.

Because she loved to please him, loved to excite him, and right now—this night, this minute—nothing else mattered.

“Yes,” she said and listened to the low groan of satisfaction from Damon as Jenelle bent toward her.

Jenelle’s tongue raked gently across one turgid nipple, light and airy—and hot.

Brenna gasped with pleasure—the lick had felt just like when Damon did it, only softer somehow, and it was strangely thrilling to know it had come from another woman.

Then Jenelle did as she’d promised, bestowing a simple, gentle kiss to the peak of the same breast—before closing her mouth over it to tenderly suckle. The pull of her feminine lips shot straight to Brenna’s cunt, and when she shifted her gaze from Jenelle to Damon and their eyes met, his pinning her in place with more fire than she’d ever witnessed there before—God, it felt like entering a forbidden heaven.

Moving to the other nipple, Jenelle closed both soft hands around the outer curves of Brenna’s breasts, warmly massaging—and still Brenna looked to Damon, even as she sighed, even as she moaned, her eyes dropping shut at the sheer pleasure Jenelle delivered.

Damon reached to hold Jenelle’s hair back, clearly wanting to see her lick and suckle Brenna. And Brenna wanted…everything. She wanted every sensation, every touch—she wanted to feel all a person could feel. She wanted Damon, she wanted Jenelle. She wanted to quit thinking and lose herself in pleasure.

And that’s exactly what she did.

Damon leaned in to kiss her other breast, so that both were being suckled simultaneously. Oh God, she’d never experienced such a barrage of pure physical joy as when she arched her breasts upward, deeper into their mouths, attempting to pull the hot sensations inward.

Damon’s ministrations were harder, more masculine, the stubble on his chin gently chafing her tender flesh, while Jenelle’s lips worked soft and sweet, her every move more feminine. Brenna heard her breath growing more ragged as the physical delights assailed her, radiating down through her torso into her panties.

When Damon finally released her breast from his mouth, his lush lips shone wet, his eyes falling half shut in passion. He raised, kissing her lips, and…mmm, yes—as well tended as her breasts currently were, she needed to feel more, in other places.

Next Jenelle rose, too—bending to kiss Brenna’s welcoming mouth while Damon watched. Just like on her breast, Jenelle’s kiss was inexorably softer as she slanted her lips across Brenna’s lips first one way, then another.

Which is when Damon moved back in to initiate a scintillating three-way that Brenna felt all the way to her toes. Their tongues all met, licking delicately at one another, until Brenna felt hands pushing their way up beneath her dress’s hem. Damon’s or Jenelle’s? It was thrilling not to know for sure, but she concluded they belonged to her man since she soon realized they felt larger, slightly rougher.

Both her companions pulled back then, rising onto their knees, and Jenelle bent to push Brenna’s dress up, biting her lip as she studied Brenna’s panties, now fully displayed. “So sexy,” she breathed, grazing her fingertips across the front, just above Brenna’s mound. Brenna sucked in her breath at the skitter of sensation and heard herself whisper, “Please.”

Please hurry. Please don’t stop. Please keep making me feel good.

“You can have whatever you want, babe,” Damon said, his voice soft, deep—adding, “Lift your ass for me.”

Planting her heels on the bed, she raised, letting Damon peel her new panties down while Jenelle studied her freshly revealed cunt, audibly sighing at the sight. “Mmm, so pretty.”

Brenna wasn’t sure she’d ever really thought of her pussy that way before, but Damon had used the same word for it, too, and she decided that—yes, it was pretty. In its own special way.

Tossing the leopard-print thong aside, Damon gently parted her legs wide, making her feel her own wetness as he put her wantonly on display.

“Pretty and pink,” Jenelle cooed, her voice thick with flirtation.

“Pretty and pink and delicious,” Damon added, his gaze on Brenna’s—and then he glanced to Jenelle. “Hold her open for me.”

Brenna’s heart pounded harder at the command, especially when Jenelle used both hands to tenderly part the lips of Brenna’s cunt wider than they already were.

And when Damon sank his mouth there—oh God, it was almost more pleasure than she could bear. She found herself clutching at the velvet at either side of her, clawing her fingernails into it as she lifted her pussy to meet Damon’s thorough licks.

Soon, Jenelle left Damon on his own and returned to Brenna’s breasts, running her soft hands over them, teasing the sensitive pink peaks between her fingertips, and again dropping down to lick and suck her.

She heard her own cries of joy and vaguely wondered if they echoed beyond the compartment but didn’t care enough to stop. Being pleasured by two people truly delivered twice as many hot delights and took her passions to incredible new heights. Her whole body undulated with desire, her breasts rising to meet Jenelle’s hands and mouth, her pussy driving upward to meet Damon’s skilled tongue. She’d lost control and felt as if she were being tossed about on a sea of pure pleasure, as if it battered her from all directions.

“Oh God, oh God,” she heard herself breathe. Now Damon sucked on her clit and even plunged two fingers inside her moisture. “Oh!” she sobbed at their hot entry, and then she fucked them, along with his mouth, still absorbing Jenelle’s hot licks across her nipples.

“Oh…oh God, baby—yes, yes.” She was so close to coming, and she almost didn’t even want to, because she wanted to keep feeling like this forever. But at the same time, as she looked past the fall of Jenelle’s coppery hair to where her lips closed over Brenna’s engorged nipple, her feminine hand cupping Brenna’s other breast, and down to Damon, whose gaze met hers even as his mouth was buried between her legs—she knew she couldn’t hold back. “Oh baby,” she purred, looking into those dark, sexy eyes.

She said nothing more. But at the same time, she thought she’d just said everything. I love this. I love you. I need you. Make me come. Make me come.

And then the climax ripped through her at the speed of light, pulsing wildly through her whole body, forcing her eyes shut, making her cry out even louder than before as the hot waves of pleasure carried her to someplace new—before finally lowering her back to the red velvet bed where she’d just indulged in the most scandalous encounter of her existence.

Jenelle was sweetly kissing her mouth, smiling sensually into her eyes, while Damon rained tiny kisses just above the dark curls covering her pussy, up to her navel.

“Mmm, was it nice?” Jenelle asked.

There were simply no words to describe what she’d just experienced. And now that the orgasm had let her come back down to earth, the whole thing felt…surreal. Her, with another girl? And Damon? At the same time?

But the return of sanity didn’t make it any easier to deny that she’d enjoyed the naughty indulgence more than she could easily understand. “God, yes,” she finally managed.

Jenelle caressed Brenna’s breasts some more and looked sincerely pleased. “Mmm, I’m glad.”

And Brenna still liked her so very much, thought her so very sweet, even if they lived in entirely different worlds—because, after all, Brenna’s world seemed to be edging closer to Jenelle’s with each passing day. So it seemed only fair to say to her new friend, “Now it’s your turn.”

Jenelle bit her lip, cast a sexy smile, and kissed Brenna one more time.

Of course, Brenna didn’t have the faintest idea how to proceed—she only knew she wanted to bring Jenelle the pleasure she’d come out tonight seeking, and that Damon would help her.

Reaching gingerly up behind Jenelle’s neck, Brenna located a fabric tie and pulled, causing the top of Jenelle’s dress to drop gently to her waist.

“Oh my,” Brenna whispered at the sight of Jenelle’s perfect breasts. Large and round, they possessed no tan lines and stood pertly on their own. Probably enhanced, she figured, but if so, Jenelle had gotten her money’s worth.

Still, it was more curiosity than desire that led her hands upward to gently curve around the outer sides of both breasts. Soft and firm in her palms, the touch sent a fresh new lust careening through Brenna. Whether she really desired another woman or not, she couldn’t say—she thought much of her excitement might be from simply daring to do something so wild or from sensing how much Damon was enjoying it.

A thought that drew her gaze to his.

“Kiss them,” he told her.

And she obeyed, her natural response now being always to please him, whatever it took.

Lifting her head from the black and purple pillows, she gently kissed the tip of Jenelle’s mauve nipple, listened to her new friend’s pretty sigh and Damon’s soft groan, and let the sounds flow all through her. The sensation of the small, hard bead of flesh against her lips sent a fresh current of electricity crackling across her skin.

Be bolder, a little voice inside her said. For Damon. Thrill him. Thrill him more than he thinks you’re even capable of thrilling him.

Biting her lip, Brenna sat upright, curled her hands around Jenelle’s shoulders, and pushed her gently to her back on the bed, reversing their positions. Then she paused, only for a second, struck by how beautiful Jenelle looked lying topless with her hair fanning across the velvet.

Brenna drew in her breath, then dove headlong into being the hot, aggressive creature she wanted to become for her man. On her knees now, her dress still gathered at her hips, her own tits still exposed, she bent toward Jenelle, closing her mouth over the turgid pink peak of the lovely girl’s breast. Satisfaction roared through her when Jenelle gasped, then moaned, deeply. Brenna’s whole body tingled as she began to suck, gently at first, testing the feel of the rigid nipple on the flat of her tongue, the flesh surrounding it filling her mouth.

As she suckled, she let her hand close over Jenelle’s other breast, exploring, massaging. How strange and heady to be with another woman this way, she thought, still pulling on the nipple deep, deep. Jenelle’s breast in her hand was smooth and flawless, like a perfectly round little mountain topped with a hard pearl that grazed Brenna’s palm as she kneaded the flesh around it.

Behind her, Damon watched. She knew because of the low, heated groans that left him, even as his hands molded over her ass, his thumbs stretching inward, inward, toward the center, building in her a whole new sort of desire, something deep and strange and wanton.

And in that moment, she knew she did desire another woman. Yes, this was about pleasing Damon—but even independent of that yearning, the pleasure she took from Jenelle’s body was more than merely peripheral. Jenelle’s breasts were so lovely, creating in her a fever she’d only ever before experienced with a guy. And she wanted more of them somehow, needed to reap more hot pleasure for herself, and so she ceased her sucking, ceased her caresses—and instead shifted slightly upward, to lower her own breasts atop Jenelle’s and rub their tits together.

Jenelle’s impassioned sigh filled their lavish compartment, soon to be joined by Brenna’s. So much softness—hers, melding with Jenelle’s. But punctuated by tiny bits of hardness—their nipples, raking over each other, creating tiny pinpricks of sensation that shot straight to Brenna’s pussy.

Behind her, Damon rained kisses across her ass, and the tumult of sensation from both sides made her crazed with lust. They moved together, her hot friction with Jenelle in front setting the rhythm with which she arched her ass toward Damon in back, Brenna losing herself in it all…until Damon reached around them both, gently stroking both women’s breasts, and whispering in Brenna’s ear, “Take off her panties.”

Brenna’s stomach contracted. It was one thing to have her own pussy pleasured by both of them, but another entirely to bring Jenelle’s into the fray.

Still, she didn’t hesitate. The passion was too powerful, driving her forward, along with Damon’s desire. What Damon wanted, she would give him. She’d never meant to turn into some sort of submissive—but the longing to please him was simply too great to want to fight. It had become a part of their sex, a part of what they shared.

Drawing his palms back to Brenna’s bare hips, Damon gently eased her off of Jenelle, imposing his will even as she submitted to it, eager to let him guide her.

Just as he and Jenelle had hovered over Brenna’s body a little while ago, now he and Brenna hovered over Jenelle’s. Slowly, Damon slid his hands up Jenelle’s outer thighs, leisurely raising her animal print dress. Jenelle watched just as intently as Brenna, unabashedly massaging her own breasts now that Brenna was gone.

Beneath the hem, they found a thong of black lace that curved beneath Jenelle’s pierced navel and a tattoo of a red heart turned on its side. Just like Jenelle’s breasts, Brenna thought this part of her appeared perfect, too—so much that it was hard not to be envious, especially with Damon spying it, as well. And for a split second it made her self-conscious, worrisome, as if she could never measure up to a girl so model-perfect with her dance-toned body—until Damon’s gaze rose to hers. “Take them off for me,” he said.

And then it hit her. He didn’t care. Or maybe he didn’t see. But either way, it was still Brenna he desired. If he only wanted to get to Jenelle, he could have taken her thong off himself. Yet he wanted Brenna to do it. He wanted to keep guiding her through the intense sexual education he’d been giving her this week. This was still about her.

Swallowing back her nervousness and hoping Damon didn’t see it, she reached down to hook her thumbs through the lace at Jenelle’s hips. When Jenelle lifted her ass from the bed, allowing Brenna to pull the panties gently to her knees, her gaze naturally gravitated to Jenelle’s pussy. The sight of which made her suck in her breath, hard—because all of Jenelle’s pubic hair had been removed!

She supposed she’d caught sight of such things before—in a Playboy magazine Wayne had once bought, or when she had accidentally opened spam e-mail containing obscene photos—but it had never occurred to her that any other sort of woman would do that.

And now, as she studied the silky, bare slit between Jenelle’s slender legs, she couldn’t help being both taken aback and…amazed. At how much more on display it seemed—like everything in Sin City—and how much more exciting.

She’d never thought she could have an interest in another woman’s cunt, but suddenly, more curiosity tugged at her—prodding her to reach down and gingerly stroke her middle finger through, making Jenelle moan and leaving her fingertip wet.

Oh God, had she just done that? Just touched a girl’s pussy? Without Damon even asking her to?

She peered across Jenelle’s body at Damon, knowing she must look shocked. But Damon’s gaze was all heat, all hunger. She didn’t even realize she was holding her hand up, fingers separated, the moistened middle one protruding slightly, until Damon closed his warm hand around hers and drew her wet finger into his mouth.

Her own pussy surged with the knowledge that he was sucking another girl’s juices from her hand. And though a bit of jealousy could have entered the mix, too, there was none—there was simply the strange sense that bringing another woman into their sex had somehow drawn them closer. She didn’t quite understand how that had happened, but as she peered into Damon’s eyes, she felt it in her bones—and in the hot pulse of her cunt.

She felt it so strongly that she reached across Jenelle, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him hard. She closed her eyes and thrust her tongue in his mouth and lost herself in the wetness there, the taste of him mixing with the taste of her, and even of Jenelle—and she followed the instinct suddenly gnawing at her, and said, raggedly, “Lick her. I want to watch you lick her. I want to see you doing that to someone else.”

A low sound left his throat as his eyes went glassy with arousal. As she withdrew her hands from his face, he grabbed her wrists and this time kissed her just as feverishly before saying, “Spread her legs for me.”

Brenna’s pussy surged again, but she managed to break her gaze with Damon and peer back down to Jenelle’s smooth cunt. The thong still rested around her knees, but Damon swiftly pulled the lace down and off.

Every nerve ending sizzled with awareness and anticipation as Brenna gently lowered her palms to the tops of Jenelle’s tan, shapely thighs, listening to her sigh. She glanced up to see Jenelle sensually tweaking her nipples and licking her upper lip as she looked into Brenna’s eyes.

Slowly, Brenna eased her touch inward, each subtle move drawing another tiny gasp of pleasure from Jenelle—until she pushed Jenelle’s legs apart, wider, wider, until the flesh at their crux opened, revealing the pink folds inside.

Brenna’s breasts ached with desire as her own cunt swelled—all from sharing something so strangely intimate with Damon. How was it possible that having another party in their sex made her feel so connected to him? She didn’t know, but when their eyes met overtop Jenelle’s pussy, she could have sworn he felt the same way.

“Lick her now,” Brenna breathed, bewildered by how much she wanted that, needed to see it.

After bestowing another moist kiss on Brenna’s lips, Damon knelt down and stroked his tongue through Jenelle’s open slit. His eyes met Brenna’s as he finished the long, thorough lick that made Jenelle sob, and the whole combination of sensations turned Brenna still crazier with lust. “Again,” she said.

He obeyed, and the tide had turned—suddenly she was no longer the submissive one.

And somehow, by licking Jenelle on Brenna’s command, their eyes meeting the whole time, it felt—inexplicably—almost as if he were doing it to her. She was still a part of it, still intimately involved in the act even without reaping the direct physical pleasure. She loved watching him so closely—closer than she could when he licked her. She loved how wet and open Jenelle’s inner folds appeared each time his tongue ascended them. She loved hearing Jenelle’s moans, watching her pelvis lift to meet his mouth—and knowing she had made it happen, by her whim, her wish, her desire, her command. She’d never felt such sexual power without touching or being touched.

But the more she watched her lover tongue another woman’s cunt, the more she, too, needed physical interaction, friction, pleasure. So she turned her eyes from Damon and resumed her attentions to Jenelle’s breasts. At first, she kissed them some more, licked them, delighting in the way Jenelle’s erect nipple sprung back when she flicked her tongue across it. But soon she returned to the hot joy of simply rubbing her own breasts lightly, playfully across Jenelle’s.

When Jenelle wrapped her arms around Brenna’s neck, splaying her hand over the back of her head and pulling her down into a ravenous kiss, Brenna surrendered completely. To everything. Every sensation. Like before, when she’d been nearing orgasm, she ceased thinking—letting the physical pleasures consume her.

And soon Jenelle was sobbing into her mouth and thrusting madly at Damon’s, and Brenna dropped to kiss and suckle her breasts some more, wanting to help deliver her there, make her come.

“Oh!” Jenelle finally cried. “Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!” Her whole body undulated madly, fucking Damon’s mouth as she screamed, and Brenna knew people beyond the curtain had to have heard that, but she still didn’t care.

Until finally Jenelle ceased moving, going completely still and looking utterly beautiful—even spent, with her dress bunched at her torso, her arms flung back over her head. “Oh my God,” she said, more softly now. “That was so damn good. You two have no idea how much I needed that.”

Damon, his white shirt slightly rumpled now but otherwise looking hot as ever, rose to his knees between the two reclining girls, sensually running one hand up each of their thighs. “You two were fucking amazing,” he said, heat sparkling in those dark eyes.

“Damon,” Jenelle said, almost as if he were being silly, “your tongue was fucking amazing.”

He only laughed, but Brenna bit her lip in wholehearted agreement, remembering exactly what it felt like to have it swirling over her clit. Yet then she realized they were tossing around the word “was” here, and she peered up at the man she’d fallen for. “We’re not done, are we?”

He lowered his chin, arching a speculative brow. “You don’t want to be done?”

She shook her head and, without weighing her words, said exactly what was on her mind. “I want your cock.”

His expression darkened as he pointed toward the enormous bulge in his pants. “It’s right here.”

She bit her lip, needing desperately to give him as much pleasure as he’d given both her and Jenelle with his oh-so-skilled tongue. And as she reached for his belt, she peered up into his eyes and said, “Now it’s your turn, baby. Get ready.”