Hat Trick

by Eden Finley

  Damn him and his genius logic.

  “If we get flung off this thing and die, it’s your fault.”

  He laughs. “You can say no.”

  “Who the fuck says no to getting off?”

  “So, don’t crash.”

  Salty air whips by us, the jet ski speeding across the flat water. Occasionally we hit a small bump, but the guys are far enough away now that we don’t have to deal with their wake.

  I try to concentrate on where we’re going and keep an eye out for the others or any other people on boats, but the water’s deserted, and we have a clear path to follow.

  Soren strokes my cock teasingly from tip to root and then swipes his thumb over the head.

  I shudder and bite back a smartass remark about him being a good stick handler.

  With him pressed against my back and his hand on my cock, it’s so easy for me to give myself to Soren, wholly and completely, and that should scare me. With one touch, I’m under his spell again, just like I was last night when he kissed me.

  Just like I was three years ago—the last time he touched me like this.

  As he gets a steady rhythm, there’s nothing more I want to do but surrender to him, but I’m too busy trying to focus on his strokes and not crashing this damn jet ski.

  Extreme sex sports. It should be a thing.

  Soren’s hard cock digs into my lower back, and his hips move behind me. My eyes fall shut, enjoying every overwhelming sensation his body does to me.

  “I see land,” Soren says.

  Oh. Right. Need eyes to see so I don’t kill us.

  “You’re running out of time,” he says in my ear and then nips at my earlobe.

  He jerks me harder, faster, his grip so tight it’s almost painful, but it sends me higher and higher. Heat pools in my gut. It’s too much.

  I teeter on the edge, waiting to fall.

  “Come, baby.” Soren’s rumble pushes me over.

  I can no longer see straight, my hand slips on the throttle, and we slow right down while I moan through my release.

  We come to a complete stop in the middle of nowhere.

  Soren’s strong arms surround me, and I relax into them. My head falls back on his shoulder, and using his hand that’s not stroking me through my orgasm, he lifts my chin and brings his mouth down on mine.

  So much for me not falling into the sex stuff right away. In my defense, he’s Soren.

  Just his name is enough to get me hard, and I knew the second I suggested it last night that it wouldn’t take long to happen.

  I reach behind me, my hand going to the back of his head and gripping his short hair.

  My tongue barely has time to get in on the action when Soren pulls back. “Wha—” I ask, but I’m unable to form any more sounds.

  Soren pulls his hand out of my shorts and leans over to wash my cum off in the water. “Incoming. Might want to fix yourself up.”

  “Huh?” I lower my head, and that’s when I see a jet ski heading straight for us.

  I scramble to put my cock away and abandon the idea of being able to tie my shorts back up, but at least I’m covered even if there’s a very obvious wet patch against the light-yellow fabric.

  Soren casually reaches for the key on the jet ski and pulls it out, killing the engine completely.

  As the other jet ski approaches, Soren and I both relax when we see it’s Ollie and Lennon. They kinda already know about us anyway.

  “Everything okay?” Ollie asks.

  “Engine stalled,” Soren says casually.

  Lennon doesn’t buy it, probably because he’s searching my heated face for the lie in Soren’s words. Then he glances down. “You must’ve pulled your key out.”

  I lift the bit of plastic attached to my life jacket. “Oh. Yeah. Must’ve. Dunno how that happened.” I put it back in and hit the button to turn the jet ski back on.

  “Look at that. It works again,” Soren says.

  Ollie’s lips twitch up in amusement. “Word of advice, if you guys don’t want anyone to know there’s something between you two, you might want to learn to lie better.”

  They take off, and we follow, reaching the island where everyone else is already on shore.

  I stop short though. “I need to go for a swim. For obvious reasons.”

  Soren laughs and takes over the controls while I bring my legs over to one side and jump into the water. I swim around awhile as if that was my plan the whole time, not a necessity to hide the evidence of what Soren and I just did.

  We explore the small island which has absolutely nothing on it except a few palm trees, thick forest we can’t get through, and a giant hill we can’t climb.

  I’d complain about a wasted trip, but no way was anything about the ride here wasted.

  When we decide to head back and Soren takes over the front seat, I settle behind him.

  My hands skim up his thighs. “Maybe I can return the favor on the way home.”

  Soren smiles at me over his shoulder.

  But as we take off, that plan goes to shit when Matt and Noah hang back.

  “We’ll trail you guys in case your jet ski craps out again,” Matt says.

  Yaaay.

  Motherfucking big brothers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Soren

  Either we weren’t as subtle on that jet ski as I thought we were, I’m being paranoid, or Matt is suspicious. Maybe all of the above.

  Since our trip out to the island, Matt hasn’t left Jet’s side.

  When we get back, Matt whisks Jet away under the proviso they haven’t had a real chance to hang out and have bro time yet.

  He squeezes his way in between us at dinner.

  And for some reason, he keeps bringing up Bryce as often as he can.

  So, when Jet says he’s beat not long after dessert, I’m surprised Matt doesn’t follow him.

  That was twenty minutes ago.

  Waiting for enough time to pass to make a break for it goes on for way too long, and I realize I need to take matters into my own hands.

  I approach Lennon and Ollie. “Hey, I think you guys are super tired and want to go to bed.”

  “Someone’s eager to sneak into Jet’s hut,” Ollie says.

  “Nah, I’m looking after you guys. You’re my friends, and we had a big day on the water today.”

  They both look at me with stupid confused expressions.

  “Of course, I want to sneak into Jet’s cabin. If I leave first, it’ll look suspicious.”

  They leave while telling me I owe them.

  One couple down. Three more to go.

  The others will be harder because I can’t flat out tell them why I need them to disappear.

  I approach Talon and Miller next and take the seat across from them at the table. “How did your day go?”

  They both smile.

  “Okay, okay, enough said.” I hold up my hand before they can answer with words. “You must be tired now. Like, really tired.” I yawn, hoping it’s contagious.

  “Nah, we napped in between,” Miller says.

  “Oh, so you’re all recharged and ready to go again.”

  They look at me like I’m crazy, but in their defense, I’m basically telling them to go and have sex.

  They glance at each other and then back at me.

  “Are you … like … you know … trying to …” Talon starts.

  I realize what he’s trying to get out. “No, wait—”

  “Because we weren’t lying when we said we’re not into three-ways anymore,” Miller says.

  “What? No. I, uh, you know … you guys have sex on tap, and I don’t, so I’m telling you to go make the most of it. Geez. Not interested in you … like that. Either of you.”

  “Good,” Talon says. “And no offense, but if we were looking for a threesome, we’d go for someone with boobs.”

  Miller sighs. “I miss boobs.”

  “Really?” Talon asks.

  “Well, I mean, not enough to w
ant to go back to that, but maybe we should go watch lesbian porn or something.”

  Talon stands. “We have to go! Goodnight!”

  Two couples down. Two left. I should be able to reasonably leave now without having to explain myself.

  I stand. “I might as well head off too. Goodnight.”

  Matt and Noah stare at me as I leave, and I tell myself not to read into it.

  They so know, the paranoid voice in the back of my mind says, but I shake it off. I’m going to get Jet all to myself when he’s not mad at me for the first time in years.

  I contemplate going straight to his cabin, but I have supplies in my room thanks to Joni and Ema thinking of everything.

  The pessimist in me said I wouldn’t need condoms on this vacation, only lube for my lonely, lonely hand.

  The light in Jet’s cabin is off when I walk by, so maybe he’s asleep.

  Maybe I shouldn’t bother him.

  I hate those cockblocking sons of assholes who took forever to go to bed.

  I grumble my way up the stairs to my cabin and slide open the door, only to find the best thing I could’ve possibly walked in on.

  Miles of bare skin greet me in my bed, and the sight is one I don’t think I could ever get used to.

  Flashbacks from the night Jet and I shared run through my mind like a porno montage.

  Jet’s here, in my bed, naked.

  Or at least shirtless. I can’t see under the sheet.

  He rests up on one elbow. “Took you long enough.”

  “I didn’t want to be the first to leave.” I can’t get rid of my shirt or pull my shorts off fast enough.

  “Eager, are we?”

  “You have no idea. I’ve only been thinking about doing this again for three years.”

  “Mmm, then I guess we have some time to make up for.” Jet pulls the sheet off his naked body, torturously revealing inch by small inch of skin.

  Now that he’s laid bare for me and waiting, I hesitate.

  “Stage fright?” Jet taunts. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

  No, but it’s different this time. I don’t know how, but it is.

  The one night I had with Jet was hot and needy. I can still remember the way he responded to me and every sexy sound that left his mouth.

  “Soren?” Jet asks more seriously.

  I shake my memories free. “Sorry. Got lost in a hot memory again. Seems to happen around you.”

  Jet’s eyes rake over me and down to my cock which is hard as nails and pointing right at him as if to say him—I pick him!

  “Must’ve been super-hot,” Jet rasps.

  “The hottest.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  What am I waiting for?

  “Supplies,” I croak.

  Jet turns his head toward the bedside table. “Brought some over from my hut.”

  There sits the same brand of condoms and lube as in my bathroom. Joni and Ema really are the best.

  “You’re still standing there,” Jet says.

  “Maybe I like standing here. Maybe I like, no, love, the way you look in my bed.” Lean limbs, pale skin against dark tats. My gaze travels all over him. “Maybe I want to watch you prep yourself.” I move to the side of the cabin where there’s a desk and lean against it.

  “Oh, you think you’re gonna have this ass, do you?”

  “Yup.”

  Jet’s lips press into a flat line. “I can’t tell if that’s bossiness or confidence.”

  “Both.” It’s neither, actually, because all I’m doing is stalling for time so when I do eventually touch him, I don’t embarrass myself by coming within thirty seconds.

  This feels like a momentous thing where it has to go a certain way. I want to drag it out, make it last, and I want it to be as epic as the first time we were together.

  That adds pressure to what’s already a confusing situation.

  Jet is only willing to offer me fun, but I want to show him I have the potential to be so much more than that.

  “What, you want me to beg?” Jet’s pouty lip makes him look so irresistible it’s not fair.

  “I think we’ve established you don’t need to beg for anything or anyone, Jet.”

  “You just want me to.”

  My cock aches. I reach for it and watch as Jet tracks my hand with only his eyes. “I want you desperate for me.”

  “That can definitely be arranged.” Jet bites his bottom lip as he watches me stroke my cock slowly.

  It’s supposed to give me relief, but with the way his eyes are on me, it only makes my cock want more.

  “Get the lube,” I order. I’m testing him to see if he’ll do as I say. I want him to trust me again like he did before I fucked things up between us.

  Jet doesn’t hesitate to do it, but I can’t tell if it’s all for show.

  He’s always on, always pretending to be someone else, but I know I got glimpses of the real Jet that first night and again in Tampa.

  I want to bring that guy out.

  “And?” Jet asks, one brow cocked.

  “Oh, you going to pretend you don’t know what to do?”

  “Well, with the way some people treat me, you’d think I was some innocent and inexperienced kid.”

  “Smartass. Slick your cock and then cover your fingers.”

  He does as I say, shuddering as he applies lube to his overeager dick. I want so badly to approach and lick the precum dribbling out of his tip, but I don’t.

  I keep my feet planted on the floor and my ass stuck on the desk.

  “Now what?” He breathes heavily.

  “Roll over and face that ass toward me. I want to see you work yourself open with your fingers.”

  Jet lets out a muttered curse as he turns so I can see every inch of his pert, round ass. He has his cheek to the mattress, and I can see every expressive emotion on his insanely good-looking face.

  One of his hands holds his ass cheek, while the other sneaks through his legs.

  His middle finger circles his hole.

  As he presses in, I say, “I want you to remember what it was like when it was me doing that to you. When I was the one inside you, turning you out until you couldn’t talk. You couldn’t breathe.”

  Jet writhes on the bed. His eyes squeeze shut, and his mouth hangs open.

  He fingers himself, adding a second one when he’s ready, and I have to grip the base of my cock to stop from coming.

  Jet’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen—and that’s fully clothed. Naked and spread open for me, he’s so beautiful I can’t stand it.

  “You’re so hot,” I say.

  “Fucking duh.” Jet’s response is all gurgled.

  “You almost ready for me? I don’t think you’re quite desperate enough yet.” I’m lying. Totally lying.

  Jet grunts, deep and guttural.

  This is exactly how I wanted him. He’s on the brink of losing it, thinking of me, and in a minute, he’s going to remember how I rocked his world three years ago.

  I move toward the bedside table as quietly as possible and open a condom. I’m sheathed, lubed, and ready to go by the time I get what I want from Jet.

  “Soren, please …”

  “I’ve got you, baby.” I grip his wrist and gently pull his hand away. My knees hit the mattress behind him, and slowly, I push inside.

  His ass tenses around me, but his shoulders relax and sag as if he’s just been released from torture. “Go. Fuck me.”

  “If you insist.” I put my hand on his back between his shoulder blades and hold him down.

  I move all the way inside him, loving how his body gives way for me and accepts me easily.

  He buries his head so he’s facedown and mumbles something that sounds like “harder.”

  I move in and out of him, gradually increasing my pace.

  I remember it being phenomenal and heated between us, but nothing—nothing—has ever been this good.

  “Fuuuck. Oh
fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jet’s words would be laughable if I weren’t saying the same thing in my head.

  “So hot,” I say again. And then again.

  The muscles in his back contract with every thrust, and his skin shines with perspiration.

  My hair is wet from my own sweat.

  “I’m … I’m—”

  “Not yet.” I pull out of him and flip him over. “I want to see your face when you come.”

  He lifts his knees without me having to ask, and I dive right back in.

  I’m hovering above him now, staring into a pair of eyes I got lost in all those years ago, and I can’t wait for it to happen again.

  And again, and again, and again.

  I’m not going to take what he’s giving me for granted, because for all I know, he’ll turn around tomorrow and say he’s changed his mind.

  I’m going to take my time and make blazing-hot new memories to go with the old ones.

  Jet’s hand goes between us, and he jerks himself off while I pound his tight ass.

  When his skin flushes bright red, and his eyes roll back, I take what I’ve wanted this whole time—what I’ve wanted since the moment he arrived on the island.

  The kisses Jet and I have shared here in Fiji, while as hot as I remember with him, they’ve been short and interrupted.

  Right now, there’s no one else but him and me, and as I lean down to take his mouth and taste him, I feel warm spurts of cum on my stomach.

  I don’t slow down for his orgasm or stop kissing him. I let him ride out his pleasure while taking my own.

  Jet relaxes under me, and when he finally comes down from his high, he pulls his head back, breaking our kiss, and gives me his eyes.

  Those deep-brown eyes …

  That’s all it takes.

  I still inside him until my orgasm passes, and even then, it takes all my strength not to collapse on top of him.

  Only when I pull out of him, dump the condom, and land beside him does he make eye contact with me again.

  “Guess you’ve still got it.”

  I laugh. “Guess so.”

  It’s totally not creepy to watch Jet sleep, right?

  I mean, he did say he doesn’t sleep well when he’s away from home, so I’m checking to make sure he’s doing it right. Sleeping, that is. Because, you know, after twenty-three years, he might not know how.