Today on First Kiss Friday, we welcome romance author, Cynthia W. Gentry, and an excerpt from her Erotic Ménage Romance novel, “Three Days.”
Claire, 34, seems to have it all: a great job writing for a prominent San Francisco magazine and a hunky-yet-Harvard-smart boyfriend, Trey. But in fact, Claire suffers from a bad case of writer’s block, and her relationship with Trey has become more roommate than lover.
On a trip to New York, where their hotel unexpectedly gives them a suite, Trey makes one of Claire’s wildest sexual fantasies—a threesome—come true with the help of the mysterious Rich, a male escort. The connection between Claire and Rich is instant and electric.
Once she and Trey return home, Claire can’t stop thinking about Rich, who has awakened her dormant libido and her long-repressed desire to be sexually dominated. Unfortunately, Trey can’t stop thinking about the evening either, and breaks up with Claire, though each loves the other deeply.
When Rich shows up in San Francisco, Claire is drawn into a dangerous sensual journey that tests her limits and culminates over three erotic days. Will she have to choose between her love for Trey and her obsession with Rich, and make a decision that could tear her heart in two?
First Kiss Except
I lead them in to the suite’s living area. Trey rolls his eyes toward the bedroom and grins. I feel my face getting warm as I reach past him to pull the door shut.
“The mini-bar is that way,” I tell them. I stick with tequila. Rich and Trey pour themselves scotch from tiny bottles. I try not to think about the bill. I’m suddenly very thirsty, and Rich goes to get ice. While he’s gone, Trey sits down on an armchair and stretches his legs out on the ottoman.
“Come here,” he says. I squeeze into the chair with him. He looks into my eyes. “It’s good to travel with you. Every time we do, I’m reminded of what a hottie you are. Don’t make that face. You are. I see how guys look at you.”
“Huh. I see more women looking at you.”
There’s a long pause. My mind is suddenly blank.
“Kiss me,” he says.
My heart begins pounding. This is ridiculous. I know this guy like the back of my hand.
“No tongue. Rich will be back any second.”
“Sure. No tongue.”
I tilt my head up and let him kiss me. At first he keeps his lips closed. Then his tongue slips between my lips. The heady, peaty fragrance of scotch fills my mouth.
“You said no tongue,” I say, but I don’t pull my head away.
“I lied,” he answers, and keeps going. I’d forgotten what a good kisser he is. Then I hear the click of the lock and the door. Rich.
I pull away from Trey, embarrassed. “Sorry, Rich.” But Trey doesn’t let me go and Rich only smiles.
“Don’t worry about it. It looked like fun.” He pours me a glass of water, which he sets on the coffee table. He sits down on the ottoman, near our feet.
“It is fun,” Trey says. “She’s a good kisser.” He turns to me. “Rich broke up with his girlfriend recently.” If this is calculated to get my sympathy, it works.
“Oh God,” I say. “Then you don’t need to watch us kissing.” I try again to pull away, but Trey doesn’t break his grip.
“Yes, I do,” Rich says.
At times like these, there comes a moment when we make decisions. To decide whether to stay with what is familiar and tell ourselves that we are being good, or to go with the unknown. And though I don’t consciously know it, it’s at this moment that I’ve chosen the latter.
“There’s only one problem,” I hear Rich say. Trey and I are kissing deeply now. He has pulled me closer to him. I’m letting him stroke my back, my ass. At Rich’s words, we stop and look at him.
“I’m sitting here thinking how much I’d like to be kissing those beautiful lips myself.” His words are catnip to me. I’m already wet between my legs, now I feel my lower lips fill with warmth, soften and open. My heart thuds in my chest. Can’t they hear it? I pull away from Trey and sit at the edge of the chair.
This man is a source, the fast-receding professional part of my mind tells me. Or is he? There’s something going on that I don’t quite understand.
I look at Trey. I have a feeling he’s on his way to being drunk. And so was I, but now I feel stone-cold sober.
“Go for it,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Kiss him.”
I picture myself as supremely benevolent, the Queen of Kisses, bestowing them out of charity and goodwill. I take Rich’s face between my hands and lean forward. My lips meet his and I’ve made another decision.
I start to really kiss him, my tongue searching out his, but he says, “Wait. Slow down.” He puts a hand on my cheek and kisses me gently with his lips closed, and then again. With each new kiss, he begins to slip his tongue a little further between my lips. We begin kissing deeply, his tongue playing with mine. Finally, I pull away.
“There,” I say. “How was that? Do you feel more included now?”
He smiles. “Trey is right. You are a good kisser. I’d like to kiss you again.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” Trey says. “Claire knows that I like to watch.” I do? He does? I push the thought away. We shift our positions so that I’m sitting on the edge of the chair with my back toward him, his legs on either side of me. He puts his hands on my hips…
“Three Days” is available through:
UNBOUND - Read the first chapter of Three Days free on Unbound
AMAZON FRANCE (in French)