Wild Like Us

by Ritchie, Krista

  “Yeah, I fucking do.” I smile at that thought. “I want it because I know it’ll make me feel good, and I’ve always wanted that experience. But not until I found someone I was comfortable with. Not until now.” I run my thumb over my kneecap. “So it’s hard to figure out what pace I want because I enjoy sprinting more than marathon running. But for swimming, I chose the 200m and 400m freestyle over the 50m because I always felt like the 50m was too fast. It was over too quick, you know. Does that make fucking sense?”

  Akara and Banks are grinning so wide that I feel like I said something utterly ridiculous.

  My face roasts.

  “String bean,” Akara says.

  I humph at my awfully inaccurate nickname.

  Smiling more, Akara continues on, “It won’t be over too quickly. If you lose your virginity to me or Banks, it’s going to last longer than a 50m.”

  “How long is a 50m?” Banks asks, brows pulling together.

  “Olympic pace,” Akara replies, “25 seconds.”

  Banks’ face scrunches up. “What the hell? No one’s fucking you for just 25 seconds.”

  I’m smiling like a fool. It’s nice being able to talk about sex without it being weird or uncomfortable. “Sex isn’t sprinting,” I say. “Got it.”

  “Good sex,” Banks corrects.

  What if I suck at it? I’ve thought about this before and it always causes a wave of panic. I’m so used to practicing and training, and sex isn’t something you can practice or train for. You just…do it. The first time could be a fucked-up disaster. But then again, that’s why I waited. So there was less risk of regretting my first time.

  I bite the inside of my lip. “Alright,” I say. “So I choose a medium pace. Not too slow. Not too fast. 400m.”

  Banks looks to Akara for clarification again.

  “Sulli holds the world record,” he says. “Three minutes and thirty-three seconds.”

  Banks’ smile reaches his eyes. “You’re losing me with the swimming metaphors, Sulli.” He cocks his head. “Just spell it out for me. Do you want me to go down on you?”

  My pulse descends, responding before my words can.

  “Yeah. I want that.”

  Fuck yes.

  His grip suddenly tightens on my ankle. And then Akara’s clutches my other ankle tighter. Together, they pull my legs down. My back hits the sleeping bag like a bed of feathers. I suck in a gasp, my hips already arching.

  30

  BANKS MORETTI

  Before Yellowstone, I’ve never done anything sexual with a girl while another guy watched or was involved. Didn’t even contemplate it. But after the cougar attack, I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think about firsts or befores. It just felt right.

  Like now.

  It feels right.

  And I go with my instincts and slide Sulli’s leggings down her thighs while Akara leans into her lips and kisses her deeply. My cock stirs, blood pumping vigorously south.

  Watching them should piss me off. I should be red-hot in rage that he has his teeth between her bottom lip and his hand riding up her shirt.

  But I see the way she drinks in the sensation, and her pleasure is my pleasure. Doesn’t matter if Akara’s the one giving it to her, I realize. Sulli isn’t the only one experiencing new things in this tent—all three of us are having very new experiences.

  Firsts for everyone.

  Cheers all around.

  As I tug her leggings to her ankles, she lets out a ragged noise. Akara breaks from her lips, and her eyes dart down to me.

  “Banks,” she breathes, voice raspy.

  Veins pulse in my erection, just hearing her say my name like that. God fucking damn. “Yeah?”

  “I can blow you.” She offers a blow job to me, the first she’ll ever give. Her neck turns a shade of aroused red from Akara’s hand. His palm is moving underneath her shirt, probably massaging her breasts.

  “You don’t need to blow me, mermaid,” I tell her as I yank her leggings off completely. I toss them to the side. Her white panties have tiny donut designs all over them.

  Her eyes flit from me to Akara. “Do you two not want to see each other’s dicks while we’re doing stuff or something?”

  I hadn’t even thought about that.

  Akara tells her, “He can whip it out of he wants. I don’t care.”

  “Same,” I say.

  His dick or any dick doesn’t bother me. I fucking have one.

  Akara explains before I can, “Banks just doesn’t like blow jobs.” I forgot he knows this about me.

  “You want one?” Sulli offers to Akara. I imagine watching Sulli’s lips wrapped around his dick, and I harden more. Yeah, looks like I wouldn’t mind watching that.

  “You first,” Akara says.

  She nods, okay with this.

  Total, raw attraction draws me to her. I kiss her thigh, up to the hem of her panties. She shudders. Akara sheds her shirt and her bra. His lips return to her perked nipple. His eyes hit mine as I press a palm to her thighs and guide them open.

  “Fuck,” she moans, bucking up each time Akara flicks his tongue over her nipple.

  I cup her pussy. Fabric separating my hand from her skin—but she’s soaked through. My muscles contract, dying to rock into Sulli. Christ, I want to taste her so badly. More than that, I crave to get her off and see what makes her squirm the most.

  I bite the inside of her thigh and watch her lips break apart in throaty arousal. Her hand dives down to my head. Gripping a handful of my hair.

  It’s a scorcher. A thousand blazing degrees in this tent.

  She said yes to me going down on her since I asked, but this is her first time being eaten out. And I’m not fucking sure she wouldn’t want Akara first.

  I have to be sure.

  Before I peel down her panties, I ask Sulli, “You want me here first?”

  Sulli presses a hand to her forehead. “Can’t you two just pick? I just don’t want either of you to fucking read into that choice, and I don’t mind either way.”

  Volleying that decision to us isn’t that fucking simple.

  Akara’s gaze hits me again. Mine hits him.

  We both want to go down on her. I’m waiting for him to tell me to move my ass. Maybe he’s waiting for me to just concede all together.

  She wants us to pick.

  One of us has to give in, and she tenses the longer we take.

  I’m about to throw in the towel, just so she doesn’t have to make the painful choice. But Akara suddenly says, “She said yes to you to begin with, Banks. You’re already there.”

  I nod, “Right on.”

  He nods back.

  Sulli instantly relaxes. And I slip my fingers under the band of her panties. Drawing the fabric down her thigh and leg slowly. I savor the way she watches me like she’s pinning each movement to memory. Maybe to get off to later on.

  Everything about Sulli is a fist around me, stroking me with heavy friction, and I soak her in too.

  Her eyes are on mine, then Akara. She’s watching the way we consume her. Akara kisses her cheek, her nipple, and as I remove her panties, he grips her thigh and spreads her open wider for me.

  Careful of her bandage, I clasp her hips, and I lower my head, trailing rougher kisses down the inside of her thigh. I ascend to her pussy.

  She watches.

  Hell, Akara watches not only Sulli but the way my lips move to the promise land. All the while, his hands roam over her, and he kisses her breasts, ear, lips. Leaving no skin untouched.

  The second I kiss her pussy, she squirms.

  “Fuck,” she cries.

  She tastes fucking amazing. My tongue strokes her clit before I suck the bud and really go to town, and she loses it. Sulli moans so loudly that Akara covers her mouth with his hand before trying to kiss the sounds away.

  Her legs jerk, back arches, completely overwhelmed. She was already so aroused and swollen to begin with, I’m not surprised she’s jet-packing to a climax.

&nb
sp; I’m hungrier. Akara is a little rougher, making out with Sulli. Our fingers dig deeper in her flesh. Starved for her, and she gets wetter, warmer. Her eyes nearly roll.

  A groan rumbles in my chest.

  Akara makes a deep noise.

  I toy with her clit again. She writhes, crying out in pleasure. Shifting her legs, until Akara braces one leg open, his arm hooked under her knee.

  Her hand flies to my head and to Akara’s bicep—but Akara seizes her wrists, pulling her hands above her head.

  “Fuckfuckfuck,” she cries.

  The intensity is driving me insane. My cock is ready to burst through my boxer-briefs.

  As soon as I suck deeper between her thighs and she eyes him and me and the way we have her, she explodes into a peak. Her high-pitched moan could wake RV campers five-minutes away, and Akara is quick to shield her mouth with his hand again.

  She’s loud.

  I smile. Love that about her.

  And I loved going down on her as much as she loved me down there. Best fucking feelings: mutual attraction and satisfaction.

  We watch her come down, and Akara kisses her wrists before lowering her arms.

  “Holy fuck,” she breathes, then laughs in awe. “So that’s what that feels like?”

  We’re all smiling, until car lights suddenly roll towards our campsite. The air sobers. My gaze narrows.

  “Shit,” Akara curses. “They’re back.”

  Team Apex.

  Sulli quickly reaches for her leggings.

  I help her shimmy them back on. Akara grabs his radio and asks for updates from SFO.

  When Sulli is fully dressed, I grab my gun and leave the tent. Adrenaline doesn’t help my erection right now, it presses painfully against the fabric of my boxer-briefs. Lengthy strides take me to the road beside Booger, and I watch as Team Apex’s Jeep Wrangler rolls towards me.

  I feel exposed in the light, but fuck it, I hope I’m doing a damn good job at glaring them down. Six-seven and pissed off, they don’t want to mess with me right now.

  The Jeep comes to a halt and then they do a quick three-point turn and drive back in the direction they came.

  Good.

  Stay gone.

  I turn around, and Akara is standing beside the tent.

  As I duck and crawl back inside, I tell him, “They must’ve thought we’d be asleep.”

  “They’ll be back again,” Akara says, following me.

  Sulli looks between us while we zip up the tent. “I know we probably shouldn’t risk doing anything, if they come back, but I’d feel better knowing I got you guys off too.”

  “I’m fine,” I tell her.

  Akara nods, “We shouldn’t risk it.”

  “You’re both as hard as fucking rock.”

  I raise a shoulder. “It’ll pass.” Yeah, I’m pent-up as fuck, but I enjoyed seeing her come and getting her off more than I’ll enjoy coming right now.

  “Kits?” Sulli asks.

  “Another time.” He fixes a loose wire in his radio. “It’s not important.”

  “Your needs are important to me.”

  He smiles. “I’m not saying never. Just not now.”

  “Alright,” she says understandingly. “But maybe we don’t have to sleep in the sleeping bags? Could we risk that?”

  I look to Akara. He’s the boss.

  He nods. “We can do that.”

  We all crawl under the sleeping bags like a blanket, and Sulli rolls onto her side, facing me. She buries her head into my chest and then reaches behind her and pulls Akara’s shirt. He scoots closer until his chest is flush to her back. His eyes meet mine.

  We’re not kissing.

  We’re not really even holding her.

  And yet it feels fucking intimate. I realize in this moment that I’ve never had this. I’ve fucked a lot of women, and most of the time it’s been un-sensational. Forgettable, even. I always thought I was bad at love. But maybe I just never had it to begin with. Never had intimacy like this.

  That hits me.

  “I’ll take first shift,” Akara whispers to me. “Get some sleep, Banks.”

  It’s hard to close my eyes.

  But I take his orders and try to drift asleep.

  31

  AKARA KITSUWON

  The small nearby town consists of a general store, a diner, and bait & tackle shop that has a pet store in the back. Sulli pulls Booger into the parking lot of Fish Hooks, and I adjust my radio.

  “Sulli, you sure you want to do this?” I question. “It might just piss them off even more.”

  She narrows her eyes at the store challengingly. “If it’s a prank war they want, it’s a prank war they’re going to fucking get.”

  Banks and I confronted Team Apex this morning, and they pretended not to know anything about the snakes. But as soon as we turned our backs, they snickered like high schoolers that got away with shit. In that moment, I was all for retaliation. But that’s also a different side of me. The side that doesn’t own a security company and doesn’t need to deescalate threats.

  “We’ve got your six,” Banks tells her.

  I nod at that as we all climb out and head into the store. Shit, the smell hits me first, almost bowling me over: a strong, clashing odor of fish bait and pine chips used for hamster cages.

  “Jesus,” Banks scrunches his nose.

  Sulli’s on a mission, aiming for the back of the store that says “PET SHOP” on a poster board. I sprint to slip out in front of my faster-than-lightning client.

  “Slow down, Sul.” I skim a hand against her hip, near her ass, as I move in front. I’ve never touched her like that before this trip.

  So I don’t think it’s my words that make her feet suddenly stop. Her gaze flits quickly around the shop like she’s seeing if anyone saw me touch her.

  Fish Hooks is empty.

  Part of me wouldn’t really care if someone saw.

  You should care, Nine. I hear my dad—at least imagining what he’d tell me, that moral, paternal voice guiding me through life.

  I know I should care. Because it’d complicate things, and I don’t want to force her hand and have her choose me just because we were spotted together.

  Shit, though, I want to touch her in public.

  It’s killing me not to.

  We make it to the counter. A sticky note taped to a bell says, tap me for service.

  I tap twice.

  Ping. Ping.

  Sulli bounces on the balls of her feet, and her eyes flit to Banks. “You alright?”

  He’s slipping on a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses and just gives her a single nod. Migraine, probably. Not just a passing headache. I stiffen the longer I watch him.

  How many has he had recently? I hope that I’m not wrong and these are just infrequent. I could just be more attuned to his health than usual since we’ve been spending more time together.

  I motion to the parking spot. “I left a bottle of Tylenol in the glove compartment. I can grab it for you.”

  He puts a hand to my shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

  Before he leaves, a gray-bearded man pops out from an employees only door. “If you’re here for snakes, we’re all out.”

  “Shitbags,” Banks mutters on his way out.

  Sulli frowns. “Someone bought all your snakes?”

  I zone in on the empty snake habitats. “How many did you have?”

  “About fifty of ‘em,” Gray Beard says, nametag reading Chuck. “Some organization for birds of prey is using ‘em to feed their eagles.”

  Sulli and I share a look. Yeah, that’s bullshit.

  “We’re not here for snakes.” I push my black hair back, fitting on a red baseball cap backwards. “Do you have crickets?”

  He nods. “Sure. Sure. How many?”

  “As many as you have,” Sulli says. “I have a colony of toads.” She says it with as much seriousness as she can muster—which isn’t a lot.

  I lick my lips to try to stop from laughing.<
br />
  Chuck just shrugs. “Whatever. Don’t care what they’re for as long as you’re paying. Wait here.” He disappears into the back.

  Big Sky adventure brochures—rafting, fishing, kayaking—are displayed in dozens on the counter. Resting my bad elbow on the surface, the ache is small. Stitches came out yesterday, and Farrow said all of our wounds are healing well.

  Angling more towards Sulli, I tell her, “You’re still a shit liar.”

  “Hey, I’m keeping us secret, right? So I’m at least worthy of a bronze medal in Lying.” She glances at the storefront’s glass windows. Barrels of fishing rods and mannequins in fly-fishing gear obstruct most of the view from outside. “You think Banks is okay? How long does it take to grab some Tylenol?”

  She’s thinking about Banks right now.

  It dumbfounds me how much that doesn’t bother me. Jealousy is smothered beneath my own concern for him. And I’m happy Sulli cares about his wellbeing too.

  I click my mic. “Akara to Banks, you alright?”

  Banks responds quickly. “Liquor guy called back for the bachelor party. I’ll be in soon.”

  Thatcher, Banks, and I have been texting each other in a group chat called The Losers Club since way back when the Moretti brothers joined security. And we’ll text whenever we don’t want shit heard over comms. Well, recently, Thatcher used the group chat, and I was around Banks when the messages were rolling in.

  How’s the bachelor party planning coming along? – Thatcher

  Don’t worry about it. I have it handled. – Banks

  Maximoff has already finished organizing Jane’s bachelorette party. – Thatcher

  Banks almost choked on his toothpick. He turned to me like a wounded animal, and I knew he hadn’t done a single thing to prepare for his brother’s party yet.

  October 20th is less than 2 weeks away. Just let me know if you need extra hands. I can help – Thatcher

  Stop stressing. I have it covered. – Banks

  I made some calls for Banks using his phone. Including one for the liquor store. Banks is great at a lot of shit, but he procrastinates on tasks he’s unfamiliar with. Like planning an expensive party that’s more than just a six-pack and a few dozen wings.