Holy fuck.
The rim of my beer rests against my lips. Forgetting to drink. Until Banks catches my eye. His mouth is curved like he caught me watching a porno.
My gaze tracks down Banks’ scruffy jaw to his dog tags against his white tee and the dark-blue drawstring pants that mold his big bulge way too perfectly.
He takes a hefty swig, then eyes my tits.
I glance down.
Fuck.
My nipples are pushing against my tank top. Totally visible, and I’m not sure anyone has ever aroused me as much as Akara and Banks can.
Once Akara sits back up, screws off the cap, his attention falls on my perked nipples. “Sullivan.” The deep, smooth register he uses to say my full name while he takes a strong sip of beer does a fucking number on my body.
His smile appears.
While cross-legged, I dig the heel of my foot between my legs, adding friction against my clit. Fuck, that feels good.
I can’t even lie about the room just being cold. For one, I want them to know I’m aroused. For another, I’m still way too uncomfortably hot from the mention of babies.
Moffy thinks it’s best to discuss that future now, but no part of me wants to resurface the topic. And I’m glad they don’t either. Maybe they, too, feel like it’s too early to bring those complications into the newness of a relationship.
Really, I need something to take my mind off that part of tonight. After a sip of beer, I ask, “How about we play a game?”
“I’m down,” Banks says.
“What kind?” Akara asks me.
I finish off the last drop of beer, then I place the bottle horizontally between us. “Spin the bottle.”
Banks breaks into more than just a shadowy smile, and Akara shares a grin with him before he asks me, “How long have you been waiting to play this one, Sul?”
It’s true that I always opted out. Not that there were many opportunities. Mostly just summer camp shenanigans. My first kiss, I hoped would be with more than just a stranger during a party game.
“Too long,” I smile, “but the time feels like now. My first fucking foray into spin the bottle with the two guys I trust most.” I shift a little closer. “Have you both ever played?”
Banks bobs his head. “Middle school.”
“Middle school,” Akara answers too. The way they soak me in, I know I’ve picked the best game right now. Having their lips on my lips sounds too good to be true.
“I figure we can stick with the original kissing version,” I tell them, voice a bit raspier. “But we need high stakes. I don’t like playing games without losers.”
“First to end the game loses,” Akara suggests. “Otherwise, we keep playing until someone forfeits.”
“I like it,” I say. “Quitters never win.”
Akara laughs. “A Sullivan Minnie Meadows motto to live by.” He drinks to that.
Banks looks between us. “So what happens to the loser?”
The first idea that pops into my head is risky. Really, it’d hurt me the worst if I lost, and maybe that’s why I offer it. “Loser has to stop cursing for a year.”
Banks whistles. “When you said high stakes, you weren’t joking.”
“Go big or go home.” I wag my brows, but the motion almost instantly reminds me of my mom. I try to maintain a smile, even though a sad pang thumps inside me.
Akara can tell, but thankfully he doesn’t mention the momentary sadness. “Lucky for you, Sulli, I only know how to go big.”
My smile returns.
“Akara ‘Going Big’ Kitsuwon,” Banks teases.
Akara taps Banks’ shoulder with the beer bottle. “Banks ‘Going Home’ Moretti.”
Banks slaps his friend’s chest. “Home is where the heart is.”
I snort into a laugh.
We’re all smiling, and Akara takes extra interest in the game. “We need one more rule,” he says. “What happens if the loser accidentally curses throughout the year? There has to be a consequence if they break the punishment.”
I shrug. “We’d have to slug the loser.”
“No,” Banks shakes his head to me. “If you lose, I’m not punching you.”
“In the arm?”
Banks scrapes his hand across his jaw, thinking, but more tensed. Akara has lightly slugged me back before, no problem, but my relationship with Banks isn’t playful wrestling and competition.
“I’m not losing anyway,” I assure him. “You or Akara are.”
“You hope,” Akara says into a sip of beer. Can he be any fucking sexier right now?
I pulse my heel a little between my legs, digging for more friction. Their gazes roam my body, mostly landing on my nipples and shallow breathing pattern.
Banks nods to me, “I’m rooting for you then, mermaid.”
“Just don’t lose on purpose. I need some competition.”
He has this gentle, affectionate expression that I fall into. “Alright. I’ll try to win for you.”
I breathe in his sweetness. I’ve fucking fallen so in love with him. My heart practically soars out of my body into Banks’ hands. We share a smile, and I say, “Let’s play.”
Akara nudges my knee with his foot. “Scoot closer, Sulli.”
Moving forward and keeping my legs crossed, the beer bottle and our sexual tension is the only thing separating us on the bed. After everything that happened today, I’m done talking.
I just want to turn off my brain and feel.
“Ladies first, Lady Meadows,” Akara says, not the first time he’s called me Lady Meadows either.
“I’m not a proper lady,” I remind him, grabbing the bottle.
“Yeah, you’re 100% improper.” Akara smiles into a swig. “And I love my improper lady.”
My heart expands. I’m so in love with Kits, too. I touch my fingers to my smile.
Concentrate, Sulli.
This could just be their winning tactic. Distract me and take the fucking prize.
Not today.
The prize is fucking mine. I want the bragging rights. Always.
“Wait before you spin,” Akara says, then snags a hardback off my nightstand.
The only book I’ve actually read more than once. Tobias Kingly: Gold under Water.
He fits the biography under the beer bottle. “It’ll be easier to spin on this.” He flips the cover to the backside, hiding Kingly mid-swim with goggles and swim cap. “So I won’t punch his face.”
I make a noise. “His face isn’t punchable—he’s fucking legendary, Kits.”
“He’s an ass.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I’m a likable ass,” Akara refutes. “There’s a difference.”
Yeah, yeah.
Banks looks lost. “Am I supposed to know who the fuck this guy is?”
I readily explain, “Kingly is only the best swimmer of our generation—”
“Sulli has a crush on him,” Akara tells Banks before I can list off all of Kingly’s swim records and Olympic golds. “She practically drooled all over Kingly when he signed her book.”
“I didn’t drool,” I refute, face flaming at the way Banks is smiling at me. “I just said, thanks. He’s a swim god, Kits.”
“You’re a swim god, Sul. He should’ve been drooling all over you.” To Banks, he explains, “He’s too cocky.”
“Another cock,” Banks says like Kingly is on his hit list.
“No,” I shake my head profusely, “no, he’s not a cock. He’s fucking cool. Kits is cockier than Kingly.”
“No, I’m moderately cocky. Kingly is a chump. You can do better.” He puts a hand to his mouth, feigning shock. “Wait, you already did.” His smile is making me smile.
We’re all grinning, and that’s the best place to leave the talk of one of my idols.
Bottle on the book, I give it a good spin. We watch the bottle rotate quickly before slowing down. The neck of the bottle is pointing to…
Banks laughs. “Right down the middle.
”
I grip my knees, then bite the corner of my lip. “Should I…spin again? Or should I just kiss both of you?”
They look at each other.
“Both,” I say, before they can decide between each other. I like when they both win anyway. I crawl closer to Akara, my knee knocking the bottle off Kingly’s biography. I’m too fast for Akara to savor my prowl towards him. Just as quick, I place a peck on his cheek. In another second, I place a soft kiss on Banks’ right cheek.
I fall back onto my bottom.
“That’s not the kind of spin the bottle I was imagining,” Banks says with a soft smile.
“Me neither,” Akara says to him. “Should we tell her?”
“No, let’s see how long this plays out.” Banks smiles wider.
I flush. “Hardy har-har. I know spin the bottle is a lot hotter than that. But I’m working up to it.”
“We need to help her out of the Kindergarten league,” Akara says to Banks, then gives me a sexy smile as he tips beer back. They drink me in like I’m unequivocally attractive, like they’re imagining more than their lips on me. Every time Banks’ gaze roams over my nipples, I squirm.
Dirty games like spin the bottle aren’t in my repertoire, but their confidence is wrapping around my inexperience in the most sensual way possible.
These are the men who took your virginity, Sulli.
I want them to show me more. What feels good. To go on greater, deeper explorations of bodies and heart.
On the nightstand near Akara, the clock glows a meaningless number. It’s late-late. Like the kind of late where we’re definitely well into the next day but it’s still pitch-black outside. Time and sleep are two mega-assholes I don’t love. So I’m ignoring both.
“Akara, you next,” I say.
He places the bottle back on the book, then spins.
It lands…
On me.
Anticipation and excitement swarm my stomach. He leans forward on his knees, and his hand effortlessly goes to the back of my head. Fingers threading my long hair. Lips an inch from mine as my pulse ascends.
And then he detours to the left, his lips brushing my ear. He whispers, “You want to be worked up to it, Sul.” He kisses my earlobe in a featherlight touch. Shivers trickle down my neck.
Just like that, he returns to his spot against the headboard.
I’m utterly fucking breathless. And his mouth never even touched mine.
“That was hot,” I say, smokiness to my voice that I can’t extinguish.
Banks rests his forearm on his knee, lips rising. “Ear kisses turn the mermaid on. Noted.”
“Ear kisses from me,” Akara clarifies.
Banks wears a crooked smile. “Is that a challenge?”
“Oh hey, it’s not a contest,” I remind them, holding out my hands to referee. But they’re not even close to tackling. They’re friends. They won’t fight.
“A bet within a bet, though, string bean,” Akara tells me. “Aren’t those your favorite?”
“Yeah, as long as there aren’t any hurt feelings between you two.” I look from Akara to Banks with a mild case of concern. If they suddenly despised each other, our triad would crumble apart. There are so many elements to the three of us being together, and their friendship is essential.
“No hurt feelings,” Banks assures me, and then looks to Akara. “And I’ll take your challenge.” He spins the bottle slow enough that there’s no chance it doesn’t land on me. It goes through one full revolution before stopping.
Banks’ eyes lock on mine, and the air seems to still. My breathing shallows, then almost stops completely. Being so tall, he uses little effort to close the distance between us. He doesn’t pretend to go for my lips—instead, he beelines for my neck. His soft lips brush the flesh just below my earlobe. And his hand dips down to the small of my back. I uncross my legs, and Banks nearly scoops me up into his chest.
Fuck, fuuuck. I’m melting.
Gently, he begins to suck on my neck. My breath shortens, and my gaze is in direct line of sight to Akara.
He watches, and it’s impossible to miss the lust in his brown eyes. My pulse descends to between my legs. Banks’ lips rise to my earlobe, and the tenderness mixed with the warm, wet pressure drives me fucking wild. This feeling, I could bask in, but I want more.
My fists grip the quilt.
Banks. Banks. My eyes flutter, and I force them open onto Akara. His head is tilted, attention completely wrapped around me and my arousal. Unable to break away.
He drinks beer like he’s cooling off under the hottest sun. Sitting there watching me, Akara might as well be auditioning for the cover of a fashion magazine. But there is a primal look in his eyes. Like I’m the need to his greater thirst and hunger.
Kits. Kits.
Why are they both so hot? I try to gather my bearings. One dreamboat and one beefcake—they’re combusting me.
And Banks…
He sucks on my neck again, hitting a sensitive spot that quickens the heartbeat between my legs.
Akara palms the crotch of his red drawstring pants. I’d love to touch him, just to see how hard he’s become. To see how much I turn him on.
But I already feel sexy. Beautiful. To be desired is totally, completely intoxicating. And I’d rather drown in this feeling than surface for more breath.
Before I can process what’s happening, Banks leaves my side. His lips are replaced with cold, uninviting air. He glances to Akara. “You were fuckin’ saying?”
“Not bad,” Akara says, tipping the beer bottle back to his lips.
My turn again.
Gathering my hair on one shoulder, I try to cool down. Focus.
Concentrate.
The heat of their gazes penetrates every cell of my body. Penetrates. Now I’m imagining their cocks penetrating other parts of my body—which is definitely not helping.
I re-cross my legs. Dig my heel into the throbbing place, then I glance up at them. Their hungered, ravenous expressions are consuming me whole.
I want to be devoured like we’re animals back in the woods. Like they can’t withstand the pheromones I project, and they just need to touch me and caress me and make fucking love to me.
But I foolishly made this a kissing game.
The bottle spins out of my hand and lands on…me.
“Cumbuckets, ugh.”
“Lose a turn,” Akara says, then he spins the bottle.
It stops on…
Banks lets out a laugh. “Knew that one was coming.” He nods to Akara. “Kiss me, Kitsuwon.”
“I’m the one that gives the orders,” Akara says into a smile.
“I don’t mind it.”
“I know you don’t.”
While they sit shoulder-to-shoulder, Akara barely rotates to place a light, friendly kiss on Banks’ cheek. Waiting for the next turn draws eagerness and longing in my body. I shift my heel between my legs back and forth. I feel soaked.
Their touch is the only touch I crave, and I could dream a thousand ways of their hands caressing my body. But no dream has to be wasted with the reality this close.
Banks is quick to take his turn. The bottle whirls, then comes to a stop on me.
He doesn’t make a move right away. Instead, he looks to Akara first. “What do you think?”
Akara appraises me with headiness in his eyes.
I cross my legs tighter together to try to stop the pounding between them.
“She’s definitely not worked up yet,” Akara says teasingly.
“No, I am—I really am,” I breathe like I’m running an ultra-marathon.
Banks smiles, but to Akara, he says, “Maybe another round?”
“Definitely another round.”
What does that mean?
One more round before what?
I want to ask, but part of me craves the mystery more. Banks leans towards me, and his large, callused hand encases my cheek with sultry affection. And his lips brush my chin before descend
ing to my collarbones. He leaves a trail with his tongue.
A whimper catches in my throat. I feel like I’m falling into something overwhelming.
“You’re alright, Sul,” Akara says as our gazes meet.
I’m going to combust. My fingers curl back around the turquoise quilt. Deeper. Deeper. Fill me completely. I remember what that felt like.
Having Banks inside me.
Having Akara inside me.
I’m seconds away from begging for a repeat when Banks pulls away and collapses back against the headboard again. He gives me a long once-over, satisfaction brimming in his own eyes.
“That was…mean,” I say.
They both laugh, but in a way that makes me feel really cute. Attractive. Feminine, even. Like I’m the most adorable thing in this room.
I light up in ways I didn’t know I could. “My turn,” I breathe.
And I spin.
The bottle lands on Akara.
At least the universe, fate, something out there is trying to make this somewhat even. I let out a relaxed breath and when I look up, I realize Akara and Banks are whispering something. Banks finishes with a nod.
I don’t ask.
Part of me knows I’m about to discover what they’re discussing.
Akara moves closer in one fluid motion, then takes my waist in two confident hands and pulls me between his spread legs. Our bodies collide, my hair whips at my face like I’ve been sling-shotted into him.
All the rounds before were uncontrollably slow. This one is deliriously fast. Unable to think, his lips are on mine. Skin tingling, pulse thumping, Akara guides my lips open with expert force. His tongue, his experience, his hands and knowledge and the fact that he’s Kits is driving all the desire straight into my heart.
I reach up to touch his head.
He clasps my wrist mid-air. The pressure in his grip sends shockwaves through my body. Our eyes touch with pulsating need. Holy fuck.
Akara keeps me bound as he guides my back to the mattress. He breaks my legs apart. Knowing I could just lie here and he would pleasure and devour me is making me a mess of feelings and yearnings.
Kits.
His thumb circles my hardened nipple that presses against my tank top. Oh my fuck. His tongue sweeps my tongue, and I arch my hips into him. He forces them back down with his own build.
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