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  Three Player Tag-Team Book 1

  Allyson Lindt

  Acelette Press

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright ©2021

  by Allyson Lindt

  Cover Design by Romancepremades.com

  * * *

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  For those of you who are there for all the randomness that falls out of my head and exits through my mouth. You know who you are.

  One

  Adrienne

  A lot of random things came out of my mouth, some of them at the most awkward times, but I’d never been the person to say I’d drizzle honey all over him and lick it off. Or in this case, them.

  As I sat near the back of the figure drawing class, staring at the evening’s two nude models, that was only one of many inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind.

  Dial it back, Adrienne.

  Not only was the idea not like me, but I was also usually more objective about nudity in a settling like this. I wasn’t a student, hadn’t been for more than a decade, but I’d gone to college with the current instructor, and she let me audit the class and use the room whenever I wanted, so I should at least try to behave.

  The Monday night models were supposed to have been a couple in their sixties. I had been looking forward to catching a different type of frame, and at the same time distracting myself. I was starting a new job tomorrow. Basically my dream job, but like if I’d found a magic lamp and the genie had been created specifically to further a porn plot.

  I was going to make art for video games. Score. A lot of it was going to be erotic art, since the game boasted realistic adult encounters with as many partners as the players wanted. Yup, picture the most popular MMO meets the Playboy Mansion. WOW plus some.

  I could handle the nudity part—I wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise—but the sex part? Let’s just say a couple of inattentive boyfriends in my past, and an ex-husband who was far more focused on his own pleasure than mine, meant at thirty-seven I didn’t have nearly as much experience with sex as I’d like.

  When I walked into the class ten minute late, the gorgeous men I found at the front of the room were not the older couple I expected. Would asking Scarlet for their names after ruin the fantasy or make it more potent?

  These men may or may not be a couple, and they were probably older to most of the twenty-somethings in the room, given the silver around the one man’s temples. All that just meant I didn’t feel like a cougar as I ogled them.

  I let my pencil slide over the paper, capturing the sharp jaw of the one on the right. The shape of his eyes. The clean-shaven chin, and dirty blond hair that just brushed the tops of his ears.

  If I let my gaze drift lower, over his well-defined chest, over washboard abs, and to the impressive length dangling between his legs, I’d lose focus and start daydreaming about what other things I could drizzle over him and suck off.

  Too late.

  I dragged my attention up again.

  The other model was just as captivating, with dark hair, a few days of stubble, and broader shoulders.

  They both had large bandages on their forearms. Odd, but not enough to obstruct the amazing view.

  I bet they’d be even hotter if they were embracing. I wouldn’t ask them to just for my art, but I could draw them that way, regardless.

  My glances up became fewer and farther in between as I lost myself in the work. In my mind, the blond one was more reserved in public, but didn’t hesitate to take the lead in the bedroom. He’d approached the dark-haired man, capture his neck, press their lips and then their bodies together...

  The image flowed through my imagination, capturing the sparks of a passionate kiss.

  I looked up for another mental snapshot and one of the men had stepped away. The abrupt empty spot on the platform jarred me from my semi-trance. My sketch was rough, barely more than lines, but it was good. What were the odds I could capture this same kind of focus and style tomorrow and going forward?

  The woman who hired me must think there was a good chance of me being able to do the job. I needed her confidence—in my skill and in general.

  For tonight though, it was time to head home. I closed my sketch pad and put away my pencils. The half-complete fantasies would play themselves out the rest of the way, of blond and brunette making out while I watched, when I got back to my apartment.

  I may not have much sexual experience with other people, but I had a drawer full of battery operated boyfriends, and wasn’t above picking two to keep me company tonight.

  The walk down the art building hallway was familiar. I stepped outside onto a patio with vending machines against one wall, and an assortment of tables and chairs in the middle.

  Brunette was seated at one, drinking a soda and wearing a T-shirt and sweat shorts that hugged him just enough to remind me what was underneath.

  I’d give him a smile if he looked up, but otherwise, I’d walk right past and be on my way.

  “Did you have a good session?” He asked as I drew closer. Damn it, of course he had a sexy voice, too. Deep and smooth, like fingers gliding over skin.

  I didn’t want to linger and talk, mostly because I was awkward with strangers, and I couldn’t imagine magically getting better because this one was hot. My feet carried me toward him without my permission, and I said, “It was one of the better sketches I’ve gotten in a while. Great models help.”

  And now I’d stop talking. So far I was doing all right, but no reason to push my luck.

  “Glad to hear it.” He pushed out the chair next to him with his toe. “Mind if I take a look?”

  I clutched my sketch pad closer. I didn’t trust input from strangers—they tended to be unpredictable with their feedback. But just as much, I didn’t need him seeing my fantasies laid bare on the page.

  “I’m not looking to critique or judge. I noticed you were in the zone and I’m wondering what kind of results it produced. I’m a fan of different styles,” he said.

  I hated telling anyone no, but I couldn’t tell him yes.

  “Adrienne,” a different male voice called from behind me. Sean.

  “Oh God, not now,” I muttered. What was my asshole of an ex doing here?

  Male Model pushed back from the
table and stepped up next to me. “Follow my lead.”

  He wrapped an arm around my waist before I could process. Presumptuous. But it felt good. His light grip on my hip was strong and confident.

  Sean reached us. “I was hoping I’d catch you here.” As he turned from me to Male Model he frowned. “Who are you?”

  “Dustin. I’m Addie’s boyfriend.”

  Addie? No one called me that. It was my full name or nothing. But I liked the way the nickname rolled off his tongue.

  “You are?” Dustin asked.

  “Adrienne’s husband.”

  Not this again. “Ex-husband.”

  “Not until the final paperwork is signed.” Sean spoke the simple, infuriating words with all the take that I’d come to expect from him.

  Paperwork he was supposed to sign six months ago. And one month ago. And last week. We’d been separated more than a year, but I had such a hard time standing up for myself and pushing him to finalize things.

  Tonight, with Dustin’s arm around me, the pushback was easier. “Great. Sign it and we can move on.”

  “Not until we talk,” Sean said. Talking meant him being a manipulative narcissist.

  “No.”

  Sean opened his mouth.

  “Look, man, I get it.” Dustin talked over him. “Addie’s fucking amazing.” He squeezed my hip. “But she’s moved on. Do you really want to keep spinning your wheels trying to get to a woman who thinks you’re an insecure dick?”

  I bit back a snicker.

  Sean scowled. “I need to talk to you alone.” He yanked my arm so hard I dropped everything.

  Dustin grabbed his wrist. “You need to leave.” That low, smooth voice developed an edge.

  The tension between the men spiked, and my gut dropped. I couldn’t move or look away.

  Sean jerked away and moved out of arm’s reach. “I’ll call you later, Adrienne.” He turned and walked away before I could come up with a witty retort.

  My shoulders sank in relief.

  “You okay?” Dustin asked.

  I nodded and dropped to my knees by my things, needing a place for my focus while I grasped for composure. Nope, that wasn’t happening, because my sketch pad had fallen open to my most recent drawing, and Dustin was naked and kissing his friend, in lightly rendered pencil, on the sidewalk.

  I flipped the book shut as he crouched next to me. Please don’t let him have seen that.

  “Really. Are you all right?” he asked again.

  The concern warmed me. “I’m shaken, but just talk to me isn’t new for him. Give a guy a taste of something this incred—” I snapped my jaw shut, because I was joking and he was going to take it wrong and think I was some kind of egomaniac.

  “I believe it. I’ll walk you to your car and make sure he doesn’t stop you again.”

  I should tell him no, but the scenery was nice, he was nicer, and I wasn’t up for another confrontation with Sean. “Thank you.”

  I kept my mouth shut on the stroll, though. I was way too stressed about Sean tracking me down in person to filter my thoughts. “This is me,” I said when we reached my car. I could manage that much.

  “He’s not going to be a problem for you when you leave, is he?” Dustin asked.

  Probably not, but maybe. I was nervous now. “I’ll head to a friend’s first, and make sure he’s not following me.”

  “Stay safe.”

  I climbed into my car and rolled down the window. “Thank you for your help.”

  He leaned in close enough for me to see the details in his stubble. “And thank you for the stunningly flattering recreation of my friend and me.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach.

  Dustin turned away before I could find an answer, waving over his shoulder as he walked away. The view didn’t diminish my embarrassment, but at least now I was worried about something other than Sean.

  The Dustin Embarrassment faded fast. I’d never see him again. Instead, as I left the college grounds and merged onto main roads, my attention alternated between the road and my mirrors far more than I was comfortable.

  The next light I stopped at, I dialed my brother, Graham, and put him on speaker.

  Sean had always limited his we need to talks to email and phone calls. He hadn’t sought me out in person without warning before. I didn’t like it.

  Two

  Dustin

  Monday evening started strangely enough, with Phillip calling me asking if I was up for helping a friend. I figured he meant moving a couch or something, not nude modeling for a university figure drawing class.

  Not that I had an issue with the nudity. I’d worked with the digital version of nude bodies for years, and I was a competition swimmer in high school and college, so I was used to wearing practically nothing for an audience. I didn’t have anything to hide.

  I also didn’t have an issue with the gorgeous woman who had been in the back of the classroom rendering me in a compromising position with my best friend and occasional more. I hoped she’d be okay after that confrontation with the guy looking for her. If she’d said the word, I would’ve decked the guy pursuing her. No one needed that kind of harassment in their lives.

  Being her knight in shining armor had my adrenaline racing. Better still, her sketch—that frozen moment in time of sharing a naked kiss with Phillip—was exactly the way I pictured he and I looked when we were wrapped up in each other. The whole thing had my blood roaring with desire. He and I had been so busy with work, like everyone at AcesPlayed, that we weren’t seeing anyone. We found stress relief in each other and sex, but it was fast and hard without much time for things like drawn-out kisses.

  When I reached the classroom, Phillip was gone from the platform at the front of the room, and the students were wrapping up.

  “Did you see where the other guy went?” I asked the woman closest to the door.

  She looked up, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. “Next door, I think.” Her voice was meek.

  So young. Not like Addie, who didn’t look old by any definition, but held herself with confidence and experience, and had a look that said she’d seen some shit. She was, without question, closer to my own forty than anyone else in this room.

  “Thanks.” I gave the girl a warm smile, and went to find Phillip.

  He was at the back of an empty classroom, head down and focused on the sketch pad in front of him. We were both video game artists, it was how we met, years ago. But we were also old enough we’d learned our craft before digital was a thing. He didn’t look up as I approached, his pencil gliding over the paper.

  His subject was a woman with long hair falling around the delicate features of her face as she worked on her own drawing.

  I wasn’t the only one whose attention she caught. An unfamiliar and uncomfortable ping echoed in my chest and I dismissed it. “We’re supposed to be the models.” I kept my voice low, to not startle him.

  Phillip arched an eyebrow. Fucking sexy. “She was enthralling. Where’d you get off to?”

  “Needed a soda. Ended up rescuing her from a grabby ex.” I nodded at his page. “Enthralling and enthralled, based on the way she drew us.”

  Phillip closed his book. “I assume that was why she was here.”

  “Not what I meant.” I captured his hand and pulled him to his feet, into a similar embrace to the one she’d drawn. It felt good to be pressed against him. “Like this,” I murmured before kissing him hard. Maybe we shouldn’t do this here, but patience had never been one of my virtues.

  He pressed a hand to my throat, shifting the power dynamic in an instant and controlling the kiss. His mouth was rough and hard against mine. Desperate. Hungry. Or that was me, sinking into and devouring his desire.

  This was more like Addie’s picture. The fact that she’d conveyed this moment through pencil lines, amplified the heat roaring through me. A sketch and a kiss and I was horny and hard. Neat trick.

  Phillip used his full body to push me back t
o a darker corner of the room. With both of us in sweat shorts, his hardening cock was evident against my hip. We were out of the main view of the door, but voices drifted in from the hallway, and anybody could walk in here.

  And now I was harder.

  I dragged rough fingers up Phillip’s back, pressing closer, grinding my erection into him with the rhythmic pump of my hips. Did I care that I was dry-humping a co-worker in the back of a classroom?

  A lot. It was fucking hot.

  Phillip grabbed my dick through my sweats and stroked. His rough grip and the burn he left behind was almost too much, but I also couldn’t get enough.

  “You draw people fucking for a living”—his voice was gravel—“and some random woman sketches us screwing—”

  “Kissing intensely. No penises were sheathed in the making—”

  Phillip kissed me again, biting my lips and claiming my mouth completely. “We’ll have to take this to its logical conclusion then.”

  “Kissing’s logical conclusion is getting off?” I teased.

  “It is when clothes start coming off.” He stopped stroking me and yanked the waistband of my shorts further down my hips, enough to grab my bare cock and free it. His hands were soft, but his grip was tight and skilled when he grasped my shaft and stroked. He worked me until my hips jerked in time with his rhythm. “I think we should make our own art.”

  “What did you have in mind?” My voice was barely more than a grunt.

  This felt incredible. I didn’t know how he did this to me, worked me up then dragged me to the edge of desperation before release, but every fucking time…