“Really?” Glen looks up, his eyes widening, and I snort. He loves the big-budget action crap. “It’s not out for release for months.”
Briar smiles. “Perks. One of my old co-stars was in it, he sent me the final cut. If you tell anyone about the ending before it comes out, though, I think the Hollywood mafia will kill you.”
Glen nods seriously. “I’m willing to take that risk, lass.”
“Great.” She connects the TV to her laptop and loads up the movie, then drags one of last night’s blankets over our laps. The opening credits start to play.
I’m not really focussing on what’s in front of me. My head is back in the cabin last night. I can’t stop thinking about the moment I saw Briar, collapsed on the floor, covered in blood and sweat and dirt. I’d lunged at her like a rabid tiger, even when she froze up and tried to push me off.
I must have scared the ever-living shit out of her.
Next to me, Briar shuffles a bit on the couch cushions. I glance down at her, but she seems completely engrossed in the car chase unfolding on the screen. I run my hand gently down her spine, wanting her closer, and she snuggles into my side.
We’re quiet for a bit, watching the movie. I try to pay attention, but I can’t. Briar keeps fidgeting. At first, she’s just shifting around a little, but it just gets worse and worse, until after ten minutes, she’s full-on wriggling under the blanket. I clear my throat. Every time she moves, her soft body presses up against mine. It’s starting to become a problem.
“Okay?” I ask. She nods, letting out a soft, annoyed sound. I wince as the noise goes straight between my legs. “You sure, princess? Kind of looks like something is bothering you.”
“‘M fine,” she breathes. “Just fidgety, I guess. Stitches are itchy.”
I press a kiss to her head. “Sorry.”
She turns her face into my shoulder and breathes hotly against my neck. I grit my teeth as her lips brush my Adam’s apple, and the thudding ache in my balls flares. This is messed up. The poor girl is injured and uncomfortable, and I’m hard as a goddamn rod. I force myself to stare at the TV screen, but I don’t see anything at all.
Briar suddenly gasps, her whole body jerking against mine. I look down, alarmed. She’s flushed and feverish-looking, sweat sticking her blonde hair to her temples. I’m about to ask her what’s wrong when Kenta starts laughing. I glance up—and see his hand moving subtly in Briar’s lap, hidden under the blanket.
“You piece of shit,” I mutter as Briar arches into me, biting the collar of my shirt. “I thought she was inpain.”
He just laughs harder.
Briar’s hand flies out, twisting in my shirt. “Oh,” she says, “Oh God I need to—” Her breath catches as she wriggles and squirms around Kenta’s fingers.
“Briar,” I breathe, sliding off the couch and coming to kneel in front of her. My hands are shaking as I push back her hair and put my mouth on her neck. She leans into me, shivering. “What do you want?” I mumble against her skin.
She curves her back, pressing her chest into my face. I reach up for the buttons on the front of her sundress. They’re tiny and ridiculously fiddly, but I slowly get each one undone, in a series of long, slow presses that have her arching up into me, biting her lip. Underneath, she’s wearing a bra—pretty, pale yellow with lace up the cups. I tug the straps down and push my face between her tits. She’s unbelievably soft. I can feel her heart hammering against my cheek as I press rough, open-mouth kisses down her cleavage.
“God. Matt,” she whispers.
“I’m here, baby.” I squeeze one of her pert pink nipples, then bend and suckle on it hard.She cries out, shuddering, digging her nails into my back.
“Oh, God.” She twists under me, fisting a hand in Kenta’s shirt. “Ken—”
He dips and starts kissing her neck as he fucks her with his fingers. I can’t see what he’s doing under the blanket, but she jerks forward with every movement, letting out a soft moan. I tilt my head up to catch her lips, and she gasps into my mouth, greedily inhaling my breaths. We keep this up for a few minutes, arousal slowly building, skin sliding over skin. Then Kenta twists his hand, changing his angle slightly, and Briar suddenly goes crazy, writhing under me.
“Kenta!” She pants. “Please!”
He blinks innocently. “What?”
She rocks her hips, her face flushing. “It’s not enough,” she whines. “For God’s sake.Touchme,dumbass.”
He just laughs, and she scowls at him, kicking off the blanket and grabbing my wrist, shoving it up her dress. I fight the urge to groan. Her thighs are hot and soft and slippery,and they rub over my palm as she crosses her legs, writhing to get the pressure she needs. I roll the pad of my thumb over her sweet spot, and her head tips back against the sofa, her red lips parting.
Kenta leans in next to me, still touching her deep inside, and she starts making noises, little gasps that get higher and higher. Her hips are jerking in little helpless circles as she grinds herself against our hands. “Shit,” she whispers, over and over. “Oh, shit, Matt. Kenta. Shit.”
She’s almost there. I can feel her fluttering urgently under my fingers, and I’m ninety percent sure my balls are about to explode. I’ve never been this turned on in my life. She leans forward suddenly, gripping at my shoulders, bracing herself to come.
Kenta and I move in at the same moment. He leans in to lock lips with her, and I dip to catch her earlobe in my mouth, biting down. Briar makes a squeaking sound and falls apart, gasping, her whole body trembling under me. We wring the orgasm right out of her, until she eventually flops down against the couch cushions, her body limp. Kenta and I both carefully retract our hands as she pants, her eyes lidded. For a few moments, the room is silent. I glance up and see Glen has paused the film and is watching us, a hand pressed over the bulge in his jeans. Briar curls up next to me, not saying anything.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pushing back her hair. “We didn’t hurt you, did we?”
