She’s still unsure, so I distract her by picking up where we left off. It’s not long before our kiss turns frantic, but when Warren starts working her neck, she stiffens. I double the assault on her lips, and within seconds, she melts once more, moaning in desire.
So far, so good, but it’s time to take it up a notch.
10
FILTHY
Poppy
What the hell is happening right now? I’m sandwiched between two men on the dance floor, one grinding his package into my stomach and the other against my back. My body is on fricking fire. This is so not me. I’m in public for crying out loud.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Warren rumbles into my ear while devouring my neck. His hot breath, his tongue, his lips—all feel amazing.
Braden’s kiss puts me in sensory overload. I’m in a haze of lust and so wound up with this many sensations that I can’t focus on anything. And that’s when hands start wandering.
The one on my side comes around and palms my breast, massaging and grazing the nipple. My hips press forward, naturally searching for more, when the hand on my hip is suddenly lifting my skirt, dipping between my legs.
My core pulses in anticipation of what’s coming, and as soon as I feel the first touch, I can’t help the moan that escapes. Thank God it’s too dark for anyone to notice anything other than the three of usdancing, because I don’t have the strength to stop what’s happening. Not when I’ve been craving it for weeks.
Fingers start circling my clit, driving me wild, and I pull back from Braden to breathe. He wastes no time moving to the opposite side of my neck as Warren. My head lifts toward the ceiling in ecstasy as we sway to the music, while I’m touched and kissed. The sensations are overwhelming, and I’m powerless to prevent the approaching orgasm.
My hips jerk forward when it hits, and my head drops to Braden’s shoulder as I ride it out.
“Fuck that was hot,” Braden says in my ear, while Warren asks if I’m ready for another drink.
All I can do is nod before they slowly lead me from the dance floor. My head hangs in shame at the sudden realization of what I just allowed them to do. I can only pray we weren’t spotted by Justin and Lucy, which is highly probable. Though my hope lifts when they’re already at the table with fresh drinks.
“Hey, I ordered you the same drink since we left them unattended. I hope that’s okay,” Lucy says as we take our seats.
“That’s great, thank you,” I reply a little too enthusiastically, because Lord knows, I could use it right now.
I can’t even make eye contact with either man beside me. They must think I’m a total whore. I mean, who does that—lets two men grope and make out with her on the dance floor? Certainly not me… before tonight. Oh my God. Now what?
“Let’s finish this one, and then it’sourturn to dance. No boys allowed next time,” Lucy says and holds her glass up to toast.
In full support, I eagerly meet hers with mine, then take down half the fresh lemon drop at once. While the rest of the table makes conversation, I’m stuck in my head panicking, sipping my cocktail like it’s the cure. The next thing I know, my drink is gone and Lucy’s grabbing my hand, yanking me out of the chair.
“Come on, Poppy. Let’s leave them to their boring work and godance.” She drags me out of my seat. “Let’s stop in the bathroom first,” she says, pulling me in that direction.
The minute we’re inside, she turns on me. “What’s going on with you three? I thought there was something between you and Braden earlier, but then I saw you guys on the dance floor. Was that what I think it was?”
“What did you think it was?” I ask with a slight panic in my voice.
“A sexy man sandwich is what it looked like. I’m honestly a little jealous right now.”
I laugh in relief, deciding to tell her the truth and get her advice. “Well, Braden and I had a fling at the wedding, and it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but he’s been relentless. Then Warren showed up, and when he came up behind me, one thing led to another. Now I feel like a total slut.” I drop my head into my hands and groan.
Lucy grabs my shoulders, and I look up to a stern face. “You are not a slut. You are one lucky bitch is what you are. That was fricking hot. So hot, I’m ready to go and have wild sex with Justin while imagining it. Damn girl. So what now? Are you going home with them?”
“As in plural? Uh, that would be a no.”
“Why not?” she asks incredulously.
“Because that kind of thing doesn’t happen.”
“I’m pretty sure it does.”
“Well, it’s not supposed to.”
