Jesse’s on me first, his mouth everywhere including my lips, my throat, and my collarbone while his hands work on getting my jeans off. Wyatt’s behind me again, his hands sliding up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts through my bra in a way that makes me arch into him.
“Off,” I demand, fumbling with the clasp.
“Let me,” Boone says, reaching around to unhook it with practiced ease.
“Smooth,” I gasp as the bra disappears.
“I have skills.” He grins, then proves it by dropping to his knees in front of me.
“Boone, what are you doing? Oh fuck.”
His mouth is on my pussy through my underwear, and the sensation makes my legs buckle. Jesse and Wyatt have to hold me up as Boone works me with his tongue, the cotton barrier making everything more frustrating and intense.
“These need to go,” he announces, hooking his fingers in my waistband.
“Then stop talking and take them off,” I pant.
He does, sliding them down my legs with agonizingslowness while Jesse and Wyatt keep me distracted with their mouths and hands. By the time I’m completely naked, I’m so wound up, I might explode from the slightest touch.
“Look at you,” Jesse breathes, his eyes roaming over me with undisguised hunger. “Fucking perfect.”
“Your turn,” I manage, gesturing at their remaining clothes. “Fair’s fair.”
They strip with impressive speed, and soon I’m surrounded by three very naked, very aroused cowboys. It should be intimidating, but instead it just makes me feel powerful. They want me. All of them. And I want them right back with an intensity that surprises me.
“How do we—” Boone starts, but I cut him off by pushing him down onto the makeshift couch and straddling him.
“We figure it out as we go,” I say, positioning myself over him. “Unless you have objections?”
“Zero objections,” he gasps as I lower myself onto his hard cock. “Absolutely none. Holy shit, Callie.”
The stretch is perfect, just on the edge of too much, and I pause to adjust. That’s when Jesse moves behind me, his hands on my hips.
“Lean forward,” he murmurs, and I do, which changes the angle and makes both Boone and me groan.
“What are you—” I start to ask, then feel his fingers, slick with something, working me open in a different way. “Oh God.”
“Too much?” he asks, stilling his movements.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I threaten, pushing back against his hand.
Wyatt kneels beside us, his hand tangling in my hair to turn my face toward him. “Think you can multitask?”
“I’m an excellent multitasker,” I tell him, then take him in my mouth to prove it.
The sound he makes is worth the awkward angle.
What follows is the kind of frantic, messy, incredibly hot sex that only happens when four people are running on pure lust and adrenaline. Jesse works me with his fingers while I ride Boone and suck Wyatt, and the sensory overload is too much.
“Close,” I gasp, letting Wyatt go. “So close.”
“Then come,” Boone grits out, his hands tight on my thighs. “Want to feel you.”
Jesse does something with his fingers that hits exactly the right spot, and I explode with a cry that Wyatt muffles with his mouth. An orgasm rolls through me in waves, leaving me shaking and sensitive and desperate for more.
We switch positions with me on my hands and knees with Jesse behind me, Boone in my mouth, and Wyatt’s hands everywhere. The pace is punishing and desperate, like they’re all trying to crawl inside my skin.
“Harder,” I demand when I can speak, and Jesse pistons me with enough force to make me see stars.
