“Once,” he says quickly.
“And you would… do it again?” My voice sounds thick, yet shaky at the same time.
He looks me dead in the eye. “With you? Yeah.”
Well, how the hell do I say no to my one shot with my straight fantasy? I don’t.
Angela must see the barriers collapsing because she leans into my ear again, and this time she kisses it softly before saying, “One time. No strings. No hard feelings. But hard… everything else.”
She brushes a palm across the front of my pants. What she feels puts a devilish smile on her lips. She kisses me lightly on my jaw. I can barely feel it through the beard. Then she reaches out with a hand, twists Landon’s shirt between her fingers, and pulls him toward us. My eyes are locked with his, and I swear to god I see desire sparking in them.
But he roughly whispers, “Inside. Now. I know half this town, not to mention my aunt and uncle live next door.”
Angie takes the key and opens the front door. No one left any lights on, so it’s dark. Angela starts walking backward toward their first-floor bedroom, and she’s pulling Landon with her.
My shoes are glued to the pine floor, my eyes are stuck on them. My brain is in free-fall, the proverbial devil and angel on my shoulders are fighting it out like they’re in an MMA championship cage match. And my dick is as solid as concrete and screaming for release. But I wonder, if I don’t move, if they’ll stumble off into their bedroom and forget all about me. Maybe that’s what should happen.
But it doesn’t. A step before I’m out of their reach, Landon’s arm lifts, and his hand wraps around my wrist. And now he’s pulling me toward the bedroom too. The minute I feel his strong hand’s firm grip around my wrist, the devil on my shoulder delivers a crushing roundhouse kick to the angel telling me to stop this madness.
And then I willingly follow them into their bedroom.
Chapter 11
Landon
My blood, my heart, my brain are all vibrating with… anxiety, fear, disbelief, and pure, terrifying lust. Is this really happening? Am I… going to hook up with my teammate? And my girlfriend?
Angie wasn’t lying when she told Grady we’d been in a threesome before. It was with a woman. A friend of ours, and it was years ago. It wasn’t my idea. It was Angela’s fantasy, and I just wanted to fulfil it for her. To be honest, it was fine, but not like crazy-hot. It didn’t hurt us, though. I think in a way it made us stronger. We started communicating better with each other… for a while.
This isn’t the same thing, though, and I know that. I’m not drunk enough to pretend otherwise. In fact, I feel stone cold sober when I lead Grady into our bedroom and close the door as Angie turns on a few sets of electric tea lights on the window ledge and her dresser. She loves ambient light and used to bring those electric candles to the hospital when she stayed overnight during some of the worst days.
I push that thought out of my mind and turn to the guy whose wrist I’m still holding. The room is narrow, and the bed takes up a big chunk of it, because it’s a king. With Grady in here, it feels even smaller. He’s such a presence, and not just physically. He’s staring at me, so I stare back, and in a low whisper, he asks, “You okay with this? Really?”
I nod, afraid my voice will let him know just how okay I am… like the bulge in the front of my pants isn’t sign enough. “If you are.”
He steps closer. “We’re not discussing pizza toppings here, Landon. I need more than a non-committal answer. I need you to say you aren’t totally smashed. That you know what you’re doing and you want to do it. Because… I mean, this is a solid friendship and?—”
His lips keep moving but wordlessly, like his voice has forgotten to do its job, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I have closed the very small space left between us. And I’ve pressed my palm flat to his chest. My heart feels like a volleyball being spiked as soon as I do it. It’s a pretty tame move, all things considered, but it feels wildly erotic.
His chest is solid and warm, and I can feel the friction of his chest hair against the cotton fabric. I feel like a teenager next to Grady, who is bigger, wider and hairier, and hotter. Why he’d do this is beyond me. Probably only because Angie is hot. I get it. And that’s what he’s worried about right now. That I’ll get jealous or pissed off if he touches her.
Angie has moved behind me. Her lips make their way in gentle kisses up the column of my neck, and she wraps her arm around and is rubbing my dick through my pants. I reach back with my hand, not rubbing a thumb over Grady’s hard left nipple, and pull Angie forward. I kiss her roughly and drop my hand from Grady, then take her hips and angle her toward him. Without hesitation, she leans in and kisses his lips. It’s a gentle, light kiss. She’s testing this out, for his sake, not hers. Angie wants this. We’re both sure of that, she’s just trying to see if Grady is on the same page.
“It’s okay. I swear,” I say.
He blinks and gives me a nod, and that’s when Angie moves her lips to his again, and this time he kisses her back. But his eyes stay open—on me. It’s weird, but it also makes my dick harder. He’s going to touch me at some point tonight, in ways no man has ever touched me. And the realization sends my whole body into chaos, like I touched a live wire.
I’m attracted to men, but I’ve never been so attracted that I’ve wanted to act on it. Until Grady. And tonight, I don’t have to ignore that. I lean in close to Angie, cupping her tits and tweaking her nipples through her dress. She arches her back and rubs her ass into my hard-on. After a couple minutes, Angie lifts Grady’s shirt. She gets it over his head, and as it falls to the floor, she starts kissing and licking his nipples, because they’re essentially at the level of her mouth anyway. And yeah, they look suckable.
I pull the zipper down on the back of her dress, and, since it’s strapless, it hits the ground around her feet without hesitation. She’s wearing a navy blue lace strapless bra and thong that I bought her last Christmas when I was too sick to get turned on by it, but knew I would one day. Right now though, I barely look at it. My eyes are watching Grady, who is watching me, even when I slide my fingers under the cup of the bra so I can rub her nipples without a barrier.
He looks wild and dangerous, his gaze narrowed, eyes darkened, lips red when he pulls away from kissing my girlfriend. “Your turn.”
He leans past her and reaches up and roughly cups the back of my neck. If he’s expecting resistance, he’s going to be disappointed. I lean into him like gravity is pulling me. Our lips brush. My hands fall from her chest.
“I’m waiting.” Grady’s beard tickles my chin as I speak, and I can’t handle it. Angie slips out of the space between us, and now everything around me is him, his heat, his beard, his sharp citrus scent. Grady smells like an orange grove at a beach. Salty and sweet but sharp and clean. I will die if I don’t get to find out what he tastes like. What it’s like to have a man’s mouth against mine… this man. Only this man.
I tilt my head, and Angie whispers, “Kiss him, baby.”
