Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Lust barrels through me.
Along with a question—how the hell is this my life?
Trina wraps a hand around my dick, stroking me while she sucks him and gazes at me.
If you’d have asked me a week ago if the hottest sex of my life would involve sharing a woman, I would have said no. But over the last seven days, I’ve become utterly obsessed with her and with the way we fuck.
I’ve learned new things about myself from being with her. I’ve always been a giver in bed, like a man should fucking be. But with her, I’m even more obsessed. I want to flood her with pleasure, to watch her get turned on, to arouse her everywhere so her circuits overload.
To drive her wild.
Sometimes what drives her wild is pleasing us. The thrill in her eyes when she can take care of us together is like a drug. The way she sparks and sizzles, taking us at the same time, is sexier than anything I’ve experienced in my entire life. The sheer absurdity of being this aroused as a woman sucks another guy’s dick while she strokes mine boggles my mind. And yet here I am.
My body is a fucking torch. And my girl is fire.
Another lick, another deep suck, then she switches, grabbing his shaft, while she gives my dick wicked attention with her magical tongue.
I rein in a groan. My legs shake from excitement. My cock is so damn happy in her mouth. I push her chestnut strands from her gorgeous face so I can watch her suck me while she stares up at him through those red glasses.
I tug on her hair, but say nothing. We’re all quiet, just in case. An unwritten ground rule as we steal this moment.
One I’ve needed since we ran into her ex. Putting that guy in his place was such a rush. Defending her was a thrill I hadn’t been expecting. But it was a goddamn gift to let him know that no one, no one in the whole world, fucks with our Trina.
I need this release so badly, and when she takes me to the back of her throat, I nearly lose my mind. Soon, my brain is too scrambled to think and it’s a damn good thing. Because I’m starting to picture more moments like this, beyond this week and the next.
More possibilities even though I know I can’t have them. I’ve been pushing toward one purpose for the last several years, and I can’t get distracted, no matter how good everything feels with her.
With us.
With this unexpected thing we’ve created. This secret that’s just ours.
I close my eyes and let go, savoring the moment fully but quietly as I come down her throat with a shudder.
She lets go and takes care of my best friend, and I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy. I just feel joy as I watch her finish him with wild pleasure in her eyes and a hand inside her panties.
Oh, hell no.
No way am I letting her do that by herself. In a heartbeat, I’m kneeling behind her, reaching a hand around, stroking her clit and giving her all the bliss she deserves as she comes a few seconds after he does, her body trembling in my arms.
Twenty minutes later, Ryker and I buy Trina a ton of dresses—including some with pockets—as well as blouses, shoes, and lingerie, since Charlotte makes it all.
“You’re going to look stunning in all of these,” the designer says to Trina.
Trina smiles, glancing down for a moment, then meeting Charlotte’s eyes. “Thanks. I love your designs. I’ve been ogling them for a while.”
Charlotte flashes a grateful smile as she folds the silky dresses and bright blouses, slides them into bags, then turns to me. “What a lovely thing to do for your girlfriend,” she says.
A kernel of guilt worms through me, “She deserves the best,” I say, then wrap an arm around Trina, kind of hating that Ryker can’t do the same.
Next to me, he’s stony-faced though, revealing nothing.
Charlotte turns to him. “And tell your sister thanks for sending you all my way. I’m so glad she thought to do that,” she says.
“I will,” Ryker says.
Then, shopping bags in tow, we leave, walking out like we walked in. As if the three of us are just one guy with his fake girlfriend and his buddy.
That feels so wrong to me. I wish I could go back in time and redo the moment with my teammates when I said I was seeing her. I wish I could do things differently so I didn’t say that she’s my girlfriend. Because she doesn’t feel like mine.
She feels like ours.
But I can’t undo it, so I choose a different path forward. “Do you guys want to get a drink before we head home?”