paused. “Well, it all seems very positive so far. Shall I go on?”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Amber said. She reached under the sheet and caught hold of Felix’s cock, which began to harden at her touch. “Right now, I’m in the mood to play again.”
“Honestly, darling, you’re insatiable.”
Amber dropped a kiss on his lips. “And you love me for it, don’t you?”
Felix couldn’t argue that point. “Well, we’ll be sure to thank Josh for writing such nice things about us, won’t we?”
Amber smiled. “Of course. In fact, I think we can do that right now.”
As she spoke, she heard the shower in the adjoining wet room being switched off. A minute later, Josh emerged into the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel. He hadn’t bothered to pull on a robe, and his cock, as hard as Felix’s, bounced and swayed as he walked.
“Felix was just saying we should thank you for the article you wrote,” Amber told him. “And we should also thank you for bringing it over to us. You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“Oh, but I did,” Josh said. “It’s all part of the Glitz! service.”
Felix knew that to be untrue, but he wasn’t going to argue. When he’d rung Josh and suggested he come to the Manor with the magazine when it was published, he’d known how that would end—with the three of them in bed, picking up where they’d left off in New York. Amber hadn’t said as much, but he’d sensed she wanted to see Josh again, making their association a longer-lasting ménage than they’d originally planned. He had no objections to that—in fact, he was happy to encourage the liaison. As he repeatedly told her, Amber meant everything to him, and what was the point of having money and influence if he couldn’t use those things to give her everything she wanted?
With a grin, he settled back to watch Amber give Josh a long, luxurious blow job.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Three-part Harmony
Elizabeth Coldwell
Excerpt
Chapter One
Mark quit the band six days before we were due to embark on our comeback tour.
It was the timing that really upset me, more than the news itself. After all, I’d been expecting him to leave at almost any time over the last eleven years, ever since the day I’d told him Stefan and I were getting married. Instead, he’d stayed—channelling all his sense of loss, betrayal and stone-cold determination never to let another woman hurt him the way I had, into songs that catapulted us to a level of international success far beyond our wildest dreams. Even during the eighteen-month hiatus we’d effectively been on between finishing our last tour and starting work on our latest CD, Mark had given no indication he was unhappy with the state of affairs. Indeed, the flow of ideas, the creative understanding between the three of us who wrote the songs, was as strong as it ever had been. So why walk out now , when Older, No Wiser was top of the download charts and the concert promoters were adding extra dates to the tour after the original ones had sold out within hours?
At least he’d had the decency to announce the news to our faces before leaking it on his Twitter feed. When he’d walked into the rehearsal room, lugging his faithful Stratocaster in its battered leather case, I should have realised something was wrong. But somewhere down the years, the almost telepathic understanding we’d once enjoyed had faded, and now I simply assumed he was grumpy after a bad night’s sleep in a strange hotel room.
“Oh, and about time, too!” Paul put his coffee mug down on top of the speaker stack with a theatrical flourish and went to sit behind his drum kit. As half of the rhythm section responsible for keeping time and pulling everything together tightly, he liked to extend that role into the rest of his life. Mark’s lack of punctuality never failed to annoy him.
“Sorry,
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Amber said. She reached under the sheet and caught hold of Felix’s cock, which began to harden at her touch. “Right now, I’m in the mood to play again.”
“Honestly, darling, you’re insatiable.”
Amber dropped a kiss on his lips. “And you love me for it, don’t you?”
Felix couldn’t argue that point. “Well, we’ll be sure to thank Josh for writing such nice things about us, won’t we?”
Amber smiled. “Of course. In fact, I think we can do that right now.”
As she spoke, she heard the shower in the adjoining wet room being switched off. A minute later, Josh emerged into the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel. He hadn’t bothered to pull on a robe, and his cock, as hard as Felix’s, bounced and swayed as he walked.
“Felix was just saying we should thank you for the article you wrote,” Amber told him. “And we should also thank you for bringing it over to us. You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“Oh, but I did,” Josh said. “It’s all part of the Glitz! service.”
Felix knew that to be untrue, but he wasn’t going to argue. When he’d rung Josh and suggested he come to the Manor with the magazine when it was published, he’d known how that would end—with the three of them in bed, picking up where they’d left off in New York. Amber hadn’t said as much, but he’d sensed she wanted to see Josh again, making their association a longer-lasting ménage than they’d originally planned. He had no objections to that—in fact, he was happy to encourage the liaison. As he repeatedly told her, Amber meant everything to him, and what was the point of having money and influence if he couldn’t use those things to give her everything she wanted?
With a grin, he settled back to watch Amber give Josh a long, luxurious blow job.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Three-part Harmony
Elizabeth Coldwell
Excerpt
Chapter One
Mark quit the band six days before we were due to embark on our comeback tour.
It was the timing that really upset me, more than the news itself. After all, I’d been expecting him to leave at almost any time over the last eleven years, ever since the day I’d told him Stefan and I were getting married. Instead, he’d stayed—channelling all his sense of loss, betrayal and stone-cold determination never to let another woman hurt him the way I had, into songs that catapulted us to a level of international success far beyond our wildest dreams. Even during the eighteen-month hiatus we’d effectively been on between finishing our last tour and starting work on our latest CD, Mark had given no indication he was unhappy with the state of affairs. Indeed, the flow of ideas, the creative understanding between the three of us who wrote the songs, was as strong as it ever had been. So why walk out now , when Older, No Wiser was top of the download charts and the concert promoters were adding extra dates to the tour after the original ones had sold out within hours?
At least he’d had the decency to announce the news to our faces before leaking it on his Twitter feed. When he’d walked into the rehearsal room, lugging his faithful Stratocaster in its battered leather case, I should have realised something was wrong. But somewhere down the years, the almost telepathic understanding we’d once enjoyed had faded, and now I simply assumed he was grumpy after a bad night’s sleep in a strange hotel room.
“Oh, and about time, too!” Paul put his coffee mug down on top of the speaker stack with a theatrical flourish and went to sit behind his drum kit. As half of the rhythm section responsible for keeping time and pulling everything together tightly, he liked to extend that role into the rest of his life. Mark’s lack of punctuality never failed to annoy him.
“Sorry,
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