The boys are each sexy in their own way. While Conner has that squared away military thing going on, Noah has more of a chill vibe, like his main concerns in life are doing parkour and getting high. He mentioned he’s into parkour when he was working on our house, and I’ll confess I checked out some of his videos online. He’s not particularly tall, but he’s all lean muscle, and usually his sandy hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but tonight it’s down. The way his hair frames his handsome face makes me melt. Noah has the clearest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a man. When I meet them, it’s hard to look away. And finally, Mateo is the textbook definition of a Latin hunk. He’s just about six-feet tall and while not as gym-defined as Conner, he just exudes strength and confidence. His thick black hair is close-cropped on the sides, long on top. He has dark, bedroom eyes that promise a good time. Those bedroom eyes are sweeping over me right now, giving me the chills.
“Carol told me she ran into Conner. I didn’t know you were all here,” John says over the din.
“Just a quick getaway. A guys’ weekend, that sort of thing,” Noah says.
“Conner said it’s your birthday, Carol. You’ve got to let us buy you a drink,” Mateo says. He maneuvers past his friends and squeezes in next to me at the bar, pressing against my bare leg. He rests an arm on the back of my stool as he raises a hand to get the bartender’s attention.
“Uh, okay, sure,” I agree.
“You guys having fun yet? Did you win big?” Mateo asks. Those bedroom eyes are completely focused on me and I can’t keep the smile from my lips.
I think about my massage. That was a big win, although I’m feeling even luckier now. “I had a good afternoon. How about you guys?”
“Eh, you know how it is. Roulette is fickle. I’m hoping for better luck tonight,” Mateo replies. His fingertips graze my bare arm then return to rest there.
The bartender shows up and Mateo orders five Fireball shots. I balk, but he ignores my protests. The bartender pours them out and Mateo sits one in front of me before he distributes them to the others. I stare at the amber fluid-filled shot glass apprehensively.
“You know we’re not here celebrating my twenty-first birthday, right? I’m a little past shots,” I tell him.
“It’s all about how you feel, Carol. Don’t you feel like having fun tonight?” Mateo asks.
“Yeah, it’s your birthday. Just cut loose,” Noah encourages.
“John?” I glance back at my husband. He’s sort of receded, while the guys have closed around me.
“Why not, babe? We’re here to have fun tonight, right?”
I remain apprehensive, but the peer pressure from three hot guys—and my husband—works. I raise my shot glass and all the guys toast against it.
“To Carol!” Mateo announces.
“To the birthday girl,” Conner says.
“May you have the night of your life!” Noah concludes.
We all throw the liquor back and it burns going down. It’s been a long time since I did crazy shots and my mouth hangs open, sucking air. But then the warmth spreads through my chest and I smile. That’s the fun part.
“Why aren’t you guys dancing?” Noah asks.
“It’s not really my thing,” John concedes.
“You’ve got a babe like this, you can’t spend the night at the bar, man,” Noah says. “Do you mind if I take her for a spin?”
“Uh, no. Of course not. Carol loves to dance. Go on, if you want to, babe.”
I practically leap out of the chair, bumping right into Mateo. His hand instinctively goes to my hip, and it feels nice there. I hope John doesn’t feel bad that I’m so eager.
“I’m game,” I say.
“Let’s go, birthday girl.”
Noah reaches past Mateo and takes my hand, pulling me behind him onto the packed dance floor. We find a little spot to call our own, but the lack of space forces me against Noah as we move. I don’t mind. Apparently, it’s Latin night at the club. I have no familiarity with the music, but it has a driving beat that’s easy to find and I start gyrating to it. Noah puts his hands on my hips, our bodies move together, and I don’t think about anything but how nice it feels to be so close to him.
It’s been so long since I was on the dance floor with a man who genuinely likes to be out there that I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. John has many fine qualities, but dancing is not one of them. When he does venture onto the dance floor—which is only under protest—his move is to sort of sway his upper body and tap one foot, while the other stays planted. The only thing that makes it even resemble dancing is that I move around him and rub my body against his. He likes that part, and it’s the only reason I can get him on the dance floor at all.
Dancing with Noah is a wholly different experience. I wonder if doing parkour makes his moves so fluid. I guess doing somersault leaps from the top of one building to another would have to. His hands rest easy on my hips and our bodies move together naturally, like we’re in the same groove. It’s also different because I can feel how solid Noah is under his black shirt and when I touch his arms they feel like corded steel. I appreciate the muscled look of a guy like Conner for sure, but I really love the subtle strength I feel in a guy like Noah. I’m wearing four-inch heels, so I’m nearly as tall as he is.
The song switches to something with a more sensual groove and Noah’s hands move to the small of my back. There’s no fabric between us there and his touch is scorching. I try telling myself the only reason I’m enjoying it this much is because of that shot we just did, but that’s not entirely true. I’m glowing under Noah’s attention.
“John’s crazy for not coming out here with you,” Noah says. His lips are close to my ear so I can hear him over the music. His breath on my neck makes me shiver.
I give a little laugh. “He dances with me sometimes. But his idea of dancing is just to stand still while I rub against him.”
“That would work for me.”
“Really?”
“It’s kind of working for me right now, Carol.”
“Oh, stop it.” I feel the heat rising to my face.
“Can’t you tell?” Noah asks, smiling broadly.
Noah pulls me tighter against him and I feel his rock-hard bulge grind on me. I barely stifle my gasp. Moving with my body against his feels more scandalous now. I glance over my shoulder but cannot see my husband or the others through the crowd. It’s just me and Noah, isolated in a sea of people. We could do anything out here, and John would never see it. My mind shouldn’t be going there, and I blame the shot I did before hitting the dance floor. I should pull back from Noah, but instead I’m grinding him harder.
“You know I’m a married woman,” I tell him.
“I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“Noah…”
I’m cut off when he kisses me. He just leans in and does it. I’m not too far gone, so I don’t respond—at first. But our bodies are still moving together, and he has delicious lips, and before I know it I’m responding the way you’re supposed to kiss. His hand is planted firmly on my back, holding me in place, but he doesn’t need it. My arms tighten around him. I kiss him shamelessly, with my husband somewhere off in the distance. Noah has nice, soft lips, and the longer I kiss him, the more I want to. When we stop, I’m not sure why we do. I stare up at him, biting my bottom lip.
“Damn, Carol, you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. I think your glasses make them even sexier, somehow. A guy could get lost in those eyes.”
“Noah…”
“I know, you’re married, but you didn’t kiss me like you were married.”
Before I have to explain myself, Mateo materializes out of nowhere, placing a hand on my back just above Noah’s. He lightly massages my bare back. I hope he doesn’t notice how flushed I am.
“You’re not going to keep Carol to yourself all night, are you bro?” Mateo asks.
“I guess it’s only fair to share. Did John send you out here?” Noah replies.
>
“He didn’t send me, but he’s cool.”
“Go for it,” Noah says.
The guys clasp hands and Noah exits, Mateo taking his place. Neither guy asked what I wanted. Mateo just pulls me to him and we start moving together. I hold onto his shoulders and go with it, enjoying the attention of a second sexy younger man. It’s crazy, but I like that they didn’t ask. If the boys want to pass me off to one another, I’m good with that. He’s an even better dancer than his friend, with moves that feel inherently sexual. Mateo fixes me with those dark bedroom eyes and I can’t help myself—my head fills with dirty thoughts. I begin to think that John had better not leave me alone with these guys for too long. If Mateo tries to kiss me, I know I won’t resist him. I feel guilty about it, but I know I won’t resist him.
Mateo doesn’t kiss me, but by the time we leave the dance floor I wish he had. My heart is pounding and I’m glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. Dancing with Mateo has me more aroused than any foreplay I’ve ever experienced. He leads me back toward the bar with a possessive arm at my waist. When I spot John, I guiltily move away from Mateo, but I know my husband saw us like that.
Funny how I’m more concerned John might see me close to Mateo than I am that Noah told him we kissed. Noah, John and Conner are hanging out at the bar and I wonder what exactly they are talking about. John doesn’t look angry, so Noah must have shown some discretion. He still could have whispered something to Conner. Is Conner looking at me differently? I need to stop being so paranoid. I’m desperately parched and ready to beg for water.
Water comes, but so does another round of shots. John is sitting at the bar now, and I stand between his legs, his arm around my waist. Noah holds out a shot glass to me and I shake my head.
“You’ve got to be kidding. I only did the first one under protest,” I complain.
“We’re celebrating your birthday, and we can’t celebrate without the birthday girl,” Noah pressures.
I give him a look, but I see he’s not backing down. I look over my shoulder at John, but he’s no help. I think he wants to see me get drunk. Well, I think, if I make a fool of myself he only has himself to blame.
“I guess I’m only turning forty once!” I announce, raising the shot glass.
“That’s the spirit!” Conner says.
The boys chink their shot glasses against mine and we all down the Fireball. The liquor doesn’t burn as much as the first time I swallowed it but getting used to it isn’t a good sign. It means I’m getting drunker. I swap the empty shot glass for the glass of water and nearly drain it. John sweeps my hair to the side and kisses my cheek.
“Are you having fun?” he asks. It’s so loud, only I can hear him.
“Yeah, the boys are good dancers.”
“Probably way better than I am.”
I smirk and reply, “Ya think? They actually dance.”
“I dance!”
“You stand there and let me rub against you.”
“Heh heh. That’s dancing to me. I bet the boys are enjoying that as much as I do.”
I feign outrage. “What makes you think I’m the kind of woman who’d go rubbing up on a bunch of strange men? I am a married woman.” I’m a married woman seems to be my refrain of the evening.
“With a couple shots in you…I know you’re that kind of woman. But don’t worry, hon. I want you to have fun tonight.”
“But not too much fun,” I point out.
John deliberately closes his mouth and remains silent.
“Ready to go back out there and get your freak on?” Noah asks.
My husband has no objections, so I let the boys pull me back onto the dance floor. Even Conner joins us this time, although he’s not the dancer his friends are.
The boys form three points of a triangle surrounding me, taking turns coming in closer to grind against me. The shots have me nice and loose, and I love the attention. My pulse is pounding and it’s not just because of all the physical activity. They touch me, hands grazing me here, grazing me there, and all I can think about is how amazing it feels to have their hands on me. It gets hotter when Noah and Mateo squeeze me between them. Conner is the man out, but I don’t think about that as I have a handsome young stud grinding against me from in front and behind. Their hands almost touch as they both hold my hips and work their bodies against mine. My hands rest on Noah’s chest in front of me, and I want to reach back and grab Mateo too. But Noah demands my full attention when he kisses me again. I slide my hands up his chest and hold his face, giving myself to his kiss.
I’m so distracted by kissing Noah that it takes me a moment to notice Mateo’s hands roaming my body. His curious hands travel from my hips upward to lightly cup my breasts. He gives them a squeeze and I absolutely do notice then. I half-heartedly take my hands from Noah’s face and move Mateo’s hands back down—and they go right to my butt. I don’t mind as much when he squeezes me there. I kinda hope he likes what he feels. I put a lot of hard work into keeping the jiggle in my butt to a minimum. It doesn’t feel as bad to let him touch me there; a distinction that sounds silly when I’m kissing Noah. But Mateo is not content simply to grab my ass.
Mateo sweeps my honey blonde hair to the side and his lips are on my neck. I shudder and moan into the kiss I’m sharing with Noah. I don’t know how, but we’re still moving our bodies with the music, which makes it all so much hotter. I’m tingling from my head to my toes, but I’m suddenly worried about making a spectacle. I finally separate from Noah’s kiss, but before I can even catch my breath, the boys are turning me. Mateo smiles knowingly before he kisses me too.
I’m all Mateo’s for what feels like an eternity. He pulls me fully into his arms and caresses my bare back. He kneads my ass and runs his fingers through my hair. There’s fire in Mateo’s kiss and I match his passion. What must it look like to the people around us, seeing this middle-aged woman passed between two younger hunks?
I get the feeling Mateo wants me all to himself, but then there are other hands on me again, I assume they’re Noah’s. Noah caresses me too, creating enough daylight between me and Mateo that he can grope my breasts while grinding his bulge into my ass. I’m slower to move Noah’s hands away, as I’m so absorbed in Mateo’s soul kiss. I’m a shameless hussy and I love every second of it!
“Happy birthday,” Mateo murmurs, kissing my forehead after our kiss breaks.
I just stare up at him, speechless. My glasses are steamed, but I can still make out his smirk. I’m ready to kiss him again, but a hand on my waist distracts me. It’s Conner. His friends were so forward, I forgot he was even with us. I lick my lips and find my voice. “Are you going to kiss me too?” I ask.
Conner has the grace to look embarrassed by my question, but I see the eagerness in his eyes. He’s just not like his friends. I don’t think he’s the type to just grab a married woman and have his way with her.
“Do you want me to, Carol?” he asks.
I answer him with a kiss. He’s so tall I need to pull him down to me, but Conner is happy to oblige. His kiss is sweet. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still the promise of dirty things in the dark from him, but Conner’s kiss is different from his friends’. I feel like they would fuck me right there on the dance floor. Conner would at least take me somewhere more private. Our kiss is brief, and he suggests, “Maybe we should get back. John’s got to be wondering what we’re up to.”
Funny how my husband hadn’t been on my mind at all. He did tell me to have fun, after all. He probably didn’t mean that to include making out with three different guys at once. I feel a pang of guilt and nod my agreement.
“Yeah, we don’t want him to come looking for us,” I agree.
The other guys don’t seem concerned at all.
John is waiting for us at the bar and I sweep right into his arms. He kisses me, and my guilt deepens. Can he taste the adultery on my lips? I pull back, but he kisses me again. I’m so worked up from my shenanigans on the dance floor that I can’t
help responding to my husband’s kiss, sweeping my tongue against his and plastering my body to him. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to the guys watching us—and to myself.
“You seem to be having a good time,” John says when we separate.
“It’s been fun so far,” I reply, taking my water from the bar. I drain the glass and need more. All the attention I’ve received is mixing with the alcohol in me like rocket fuel. I’m totally wired, and I don’t know if I’m prepared for what might happen next. The night seems to be getting wilder and wilder.
“I guess it’s lucky we ran into the guys, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…”
I stop midsentence. There’s just something odd about the way John said that, about the look on his face. My antennae are up and I can’t help feeling my husband is up to something. It really is strange—an incredible coincidence—that we ran into the guys. Even accepting the coincidence of them being here, the resort is crowded. It’s more likely they could have been here and we’d never have seen them. I ran into Conner once, and then all of them a second time. Was it really accidentally? I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before.
“What else are you guys up to tonight?” Noah asks.
“John has some big surprises for me, supposedly,” I answer. Three surprises, I remember.
“Gonna take Carol back up to your room then?” Mateo asks, practically leering at me.
I turn to my husband. “What is this surprise, anyway?” I check my watch. “It’s getting late. Don’t you think you should spring it on me?”
John works hard to maintain a blank face. “Why don’t you guys join us for a nightcap? We have a whole suite upstairs!”
For a heartbeat I’m floored John would invite the guys upstairs rather than have me all to himself, but then it finally all clicks together. I think I know where this is going, but I just can’t believe it. That can’t be my surprise, can it?
I try to stare John down, but he gives nothing away. I turn to the boys, eyeing them one at a time. Noah and Mateo look very pleased with themselves. Only Conner can’t look me in the eye. It’s Noah who answers my husband.
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