by Callie Rose
I win the first round. And Chase wasn’t kidding about the pants. He doesn’t even take off his fucking shoes first, just tugs his jeans off over them. He’s wearing a pair of dark blue boxers, and the muscles of his thighs flex as he sits back down, a languid smile on his face.
The other guys all took off something easy, and while Chase was wrestling with his clothes, Lincoln pulled out a little plastic baggie from his back pocket and rolled a joint—he must’ve grabbed it when he went to get the cards and chips.
We play our next hand as we pass the joint around, and the combination of the weed and the poker make me feel like I’m floating, happy and untouchable and in control of my goddamn life for once.
Another round in, River and Dax are barefoot, Linc is shirtless, and Chase is down to just his boxers, shoes, and socks. He was bluffing about taking the boxers off second, and it was probably his best bluff of the night—the rest have been atrocious.
Maybe River decides it’s unfair to let me keep all my clothes on, because he starts playing more aggressively. And whatever he’s doing to cheat—whatever he did last time too—I can’t quite figure it out. I’m counting cards, but River wins the hand, and the boys all grin widely at me as I make a show of deciding what to take off.
I go with shoes because maybe I’m a little bit of a coward, but when River wins again, I decide I could use a little help turning things around. So I tug my shirt over my head, and the way the oxygen seems to go out of the room lets me know I have the boys’ attention. My bra is dark purple satin and lace, but you’d think it was made out of spun gold the way it draws their gazes.
They’ve all seen me in less than this—Linc and River have seen me in way less—but there’s something about the slow reveal that makes me feel more exposed. And it sure as shit doesn’t help that the four of them are all down to their last few articles of clothing.
We all get sloppier, our play less cutthroat, as our attention shifts away from the game itself and toward the anticipation of what will be taken off next.
I win the next hand, and all four boys except River are down to just their underwear. He still has his shirt on, a long sleeved tee in a heather-gray, plus his boxer briefs.
The next hand goes to Linc, and suddenly, Dax and Chase are naked.
I’m sitting between them in the circle we formed around the table, and when my gaze darts toward them, my eyes tracking downward against my will, I see that they’re both a little hard.
“Don’t let us distract you,” Dax murmurs teasingly, though his voice is rough. He jerks his chin toward the two kings of Linwood who each still have something on. “Kick their asses.”
I try. I really do.
But it is distracting as fuck having two solidly built, completely naked guys on either side of me. It doesn’t help that I can feel a flush creeping up my chest, warming my cheeks—a visible signal to everyone here that I’m affected by this. By the sight of them like this.
River wins again, and my knees actually shake a little as I stand up, unbutton my jeans, and push them down my legs to kick them off. The room is so fucking quiet I can hear each of the boys breathing, and when I sit back down, I can feel wetness dampening my panties.
The next hand feels like a blur, and I honestly don’t know if I let River win or if he beats me fair and square, but the next thing I know, Lincoln’s gaze catches mine from across the table, and we don’t look away from each other as he tugs off his boxer briefs and I slowly unhook my bra and slide it down my arms.
My nipples are peaked, and my breasts feel full and swollen. It takes conscious effort not to let my chest heave as I try to suck in oxygen from an atmosphere that feels too thick.
I still have on my panties. River has his boxer briefs.
But that’s it.
Nobody speaks as we play the next round, except for low murmurs of “call” and “raise”. And when we show our hands, a slight smile crosses River’s face, and he tugs his full bottom lip between his teeth.
Then he reaches for the waistband of his boxer briefs, shifting his weight as he tugs them off.
He tosses them to the floor, sky-gray gaze focused on me, and I realize the other three boys are watching me too.
“You win, Low,” River murmurs softly. “You win.”
23
I win.
The thin layer of silky material still clinging to my hips is the marker of my victory.
It’s the last scrap of clothing anyone in this room is wearing.
Nobody speaks for several long beats. Nobody even moves. The smoked joint and the banter—hell, the cards and chips themselves—are forgotten, like none of that really mattered at all. Like this is what we were building toward the whole time, and we all knew it but couldn’t admit it until this moment.
Chase and Dax are fully hard now. The table obscures the other two boys, but from the way Lincoln’s eyes smolder and the way River’s deep breaths match my own, I’m sure the twins aren’t alone.
My panties are wet, the ache in my core so demanding it makes me squirm in my seat, desperate for some relief.
But I’m not quite sure what to do.
If it was just me and one of them, I’d feel confident taking the lead—I’d know where this was going and how to navigate it. But it’s not just one of them, it’s all four of them, and even though I like that, crave it, I don’t know exactly what to do with it.
I’m like a dog who finally catches the squirrel she’s been chasing and proceeds to freak the fuck out.
Whatever was building between all of us in the pool—I want that back. I want to be connected to all of them somehow, even if I don’t know quite how to manage it.
But I can at least make us even.
I can show them what I want.
Pushing my chair back slightly, I rise to my feet, watching the reactions of the four boys gathered around the table. Their gazes track me just like they did when I was in the pool, only this time, I’m not taking off a dress. What I’m taking off now is both a lot less and a lot more than that.
Gathering my courage, letting the sweet ache in my body spur me on, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and push them down over my hips.
There. Now we’re even.
“Fuck,” Dax mutters, his voice even rougher than before. His hips shift the same way mine did earlier, as if he’s so turned on it’s almost physically painful.
I don’t like to see him in pain, want to soothe the ache in both of us, so I step toward him, and the second I’m within reach, his arm bands around my waist, bringing me closer. I expect him to pull my head down for a kiss, but instead, his tongue darts out to lash my nipple, drawing a shocked gasp from me.
He doesn’t stop though. His tongue flicks back and forth a few more times before his lips close around my breast, drawing it in with a deep pull. When his teeth bite down on the hard, sensitive peak, sensation explodes through me like a bomb going off.
“God, Dax!”
I grab his head with both hands, a moan falling from my lips.
An answering noise from Chase draws my attention, and when I look over at him, he grins dazedly and shakes his head, like he wants me so much he can’t believe it hasn’t killed him yet.
I want him too. I want to run my hands through his copper-blond hair, to taste his lips with my tongue.
When I move away from Dax, the broad-shouldered boy releases me, his hand trailing down the curve of my spine as I go. Chase leans back a little in his chair as I approach, and when I reach him, he does what I expected his twin to, hooking the back of my neck and hauling me toward him for a toe-curling kiss.
I almost lose my balance, and my hands go to his chest for stability, palms pressing against the hard, warm planes of muscle as my tongue moves against his.
This time, more than one of the kings makes a noise, and I kiss Chase harder, letting my tongue tangle with his as his friends watch. I’m gaining confidence, losing my apprehension as every move I make is met wit
h fierce approval from the four boys.
When Chase and I finally break apart, I notice that he’s gripping the base of his cock hard in his free hand, squeezing the thick length like he’s trying to keep himself from coming right here and now. I don’t know why the sight turns me on so much, but the pulsing ache inside me builds until it’s hard to breathe.
I glance up and see Lincoln watching me, raw lust and something like pride gleaming in his eyes. As if he likes seeing me like this.
The sparks zapping through my body ignite a flame that threatens to burn me down, and I move around the table quickly, abandoning any pretense of a slow, sexy saunter in my rush to reach him.
He tugs me down to sit sideways on his lap, and when he presses me close, I can feel his cock against my hip. One arm wraps around my waist while the other reaches up to massage my breast, pinching my nipple in the way he knows will make me unravel.
Then he kisses me, and there’s dominance and claiming and liberation all wrapped up in the press of his lips against mine. When he breaks the kiss, his hand leaves my breast to thread through my hair, and his breath stirs the delicate strands as he puts his lips to my ear.
“Have you fucked River, Low?” he whispers, so quietly I know the question is meant only for me.
My pussy clenches around nothing, the fire inside me turning to an inferno as I shake my head.
“Do you want to?”
He pours the question into my ear, then pulls back to see my answer, to read the expression on my face as I process his words.
Holy fuck.
I don’t know if I can speak. I can barely coordinate the muscles needed to make my head nod.
Yes. I want to.
I’ve been wanting to, but something kept holding me back. I didn’t know what it was… but now I think maybe it was this.
Without even knowing it, I was waiting for this moment.
To share it with all of them.
Lincoln’s grin is ravenous and almost feral, and he kisses me so hard we bruise each other’s lips before he releases me.
When I look over, River is watching me with the same quiet intensity he always does. Like he’s so used to observing, to scrutinizing people closely to read their lips, that he sees and notices more than anyone else does. Like I couldn’t hide from him even if I wanted to.
But I don’t want to.
Lincoln helps me to my feet, and the tension in the room thickens again as I walk slowly toward River.
I’ve seen him naked before, touched his bare skin, but this moment still feels monumentally different somehow. As I approach, he scoots his chair back from the table, giving me room—as if his keen gaze has let him anticipate exactly what I’m going to do.
Acutely aware of three other sets of eyes watching us, I carefully straddle his lap, letting my knees come to rest on the chair on either side of him. These chairs are large and padded, fancy and comfortable like everything else in this house, and I’m grateful as fuck right now that he’s not sitting on a chintzy folding chair.
His cock is sandwiched between us, and my pelvis brushes against it as I press my body closer to his. He hasn’t stopped watching me, and although his hands settled on my hips when I crawled into his lap, he’s letting me dictate every bit of this.
When I dip my head and kiss him, he kisses me back, fingers digging harder into the flesh of my hips and ass. There are noises around us, low breaths and moans, and the sounds fill me up like fuel, urging me onward, telling me this is good.
Better than good.
Perfect.
Arousal has been building inside me since almost before we started the game, and now it infuses every cell of my body. My clit rubs against the base of his cock as I roll my hips against him, and I’m so close to coming it’s making my body shake.
But I don’t want to yet. Not until he’s inside me.
I draw back to look at him, just like Lincoln did with me. I need to see his face while I do this.
His gray-blue eyes have darkened like a late twilight sky, his lids half-closed as he stares at me, breathing hard.
“You sure?” he murmurs, and because my answer is only for him, I don’t even bother to speak aloud.
I just mouth the word, yes.
Something shifts in his expression, and he adjusts his grip on me, helping me rise onto my knees enough to line his cock up with my entrance. When I sink down onto him, five voices fill the room with satisfied groans.
His hands splay across my back, helping me move as I rock against him, sliding up and down his length. My body is so full of pleasure, so full of him, that I think it might burst, and I hold onto his shoulders, my movements speeding up a little as the noises around me increase in tempo too.
I can guess what those sounds are.
The other three boys are touching themselves. Jerking themselves off to the sight of me fucking their friend.
Maybe that ought to make me feel ashamed or embarrassed, and maybe it will later. But right now, it’s making my whole body hum like a live wire. I feel powerful, as if even though I’m not touching the other boys, I’m connected to them somehow through River.
And that thought is what pushes me over the edge.
“Fuck! Oh… fuck!”
The words fall from my lips, but I barely recognize my own voice. It’s desperate and strained, and even as I speak, my whole body tightens up as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had barrels through me like a hurricane.
I fight against the wracking pleasure, refusing to close my eyes and let it consume me. I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want it to end.
River’s hips thrust up against mine as my movements fall out of rhythm, and I glance over my shoulder, needing to see the others.
Dax’s lips are pressed together as his fist works his cock, his carved stomach muscles clenching and relaxing. Chase is breathing hard, almost grimacing as he fucks his hand in fast strokes. And when I turn my head the other way and meet Lincoln’s amber gaze, the connection between us flares like a bolt of lighting and he comes with a loud grunt, cum spilling over his hand and stomach.
I whimper breathlessly, wrapping my arms around River’s neck and holding on tight as the second wave of my orgasm hits me hard. I feel him pulse and swell inside me, and then he’s grinding his hips against mine as Dax and Chase each groan out their release.
The room goes quiet again, filled with just the sound of five people breathing.
I cling to River a little longer, burying my face in the crook of his neck as my muscles slowly unknot themselves.
It’s not shame or embarrassment that comes creeping in as my breath finally slows. It’s just the same sense of “what now” that I felt at the beginning, when we all sat naked around the table with possibility and desire hanging in the air.
I’ve never, ever done anything like this before, and I don’t quite know what happens next.
“Holy fuck. We just did that.”
Chase sounds shocked, amused, and turned on all at once, and the tone of his voice makes me chuckle against River’s warm skin. The boy beneath me draws back a little, tilting my head up to meet his gaze, and I can tell he’s checking to make sure I’m okay. That I don’t regret this.
I kiss him, soft and sweet, feeling him throb once more inside me. Then I crane my neck to look over my shoulder at Chase, biting my lip to contain my giddy grin.
His cheeks are a little flushed, he’s got a line of cum running up his stomach, and he’s still fisting the base of his cock. We’re all gonna need a towel or something for the mess we made.
“Yep.” My grin breaks free. I can’t help it. “Guess we did.”
And the landscape between all of us has shifted.
Again.
24
Lincoln, gracious host that he is, gets up a few moments later and heads to the downstairs bathroom. He comes back with several small hand towels, which he chucks at the other guys.
The tension that made the air hard to breathe before
is dissipating, broken by what happened between us all—by the release of all that pent up energy. Dax and Chase are giving each other shit as I slowly disentangle myself from River. Before I can pull away entirely, he tugs me back toward him for one more kiss, and even though my body is wrung out and pleasantly sated, I feel it down to my toes.
I escape to the bathroom to clean myself up, and when I return to the rec room, the four boys are slowly picking their discarded clothes up off the floor. I scramble to catch up, not wanting to be the last one left naked. It doesn’t seem fitting for the reigning champion of strip poker.
“Well, if that didn’t take your mind off things”—Dax chuckles as he slips his shirt back over his head, mussing up his coppery hair—“there’s something very wrong with your mind.”
“My brain is fucking mush,” Chase says, heat still lingering in his gaze as he winks at me.
“Your brain’s always been mush,” Dax shoots back.
“Dick.”
“Smaller dick.”
Chase punches his brother in the shoulder, and my heart does a funny squeeze in my chest as I watch them. I’ve always had my mom, but even we’re not as close as these two boys are. It must be nice to go through life like that. With someone who’s always there for you, with you. Like a second part of your soul.
It’s not that late, and none of us are tired. But the general consensus is that no one has the brain power to resume our search tonight. And the guys were right. An evening off will be good. I don’t want to get sloppy or too exhausted and miss something important.
If there’s really anything here to find.
There is. There must be. And we’ll find it.
We head into the movie theatre and curl up in the large, plush chairs to watch an old action movie. I sit between Dax and Chase, and their hands chart little paths over my arms, my sides, and my legs as we watch the screen. Their bodies tilt toward me like I have my own gravitational pull, and every once in a while, one of them presses a kiss to my hair or nuzzles my neck. It’s distracting and comforting all at once, and by the end of the movie, I’m not really sure what much of the plot was.