by Cari Quinn
“If Juliet’s okay with it, of course.” Tris nuzzled the side of her neck. “What do you say, baby? It makes me nervous when you’re quiet.”
“She’s probably thinking you’re insane. What the hell, Eves? You get a girl like her and the first thing you want to do is—”
“A girl like me?” she interrupted, her voice suspiciously quiet. “What does that mean?”
Randy fell silent. Shocker.
“It means he wants you too, and he’s not looking to share.” Tristan slid his hand around her waist and toyed with the hem of his shirt, lifting it enough that Randy couldn’t miss her tiny nude panties.
From the right angle, she looked naked. Of course, the narrow dark landing strip of hair that showed through the nearly sheer fabric gave away the ruse, but the sight of her was still enough for Randy to turn away again.
But he didn’t take a step. Probably didn’t even breathe.
If his friend was anything like him, his dick had to be like a goddamn club right now.
“Jules, how do you feel about sharing?” Tristan questioned, voice low, brushing his mouth over her hair as he slipped his finger underneath the waistband of her panties.
She sucked in air, and he stilled his hand, making sure she was right there with him. “Yes or no, Jules?”
It took everything he possessed not to flex his erection against her tight bottom. She was built like a freaking dream, all soft and lush. Added to that, she was comfortable with her body, which only intensified her appeal.
When she still didn’t respond, he nipped her shoulder. If she said no, that would be that.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t use his powers of persuasion before she uttered the words. “I’ll ask one more time, baby. Out or in?” he asked, letting the double entendre hang between them.
Saying nothing, she set the champagne and whipped cream on the nearby counter before slipping back into the same position with her ass against Tristan’s groin. She looped her arm around his neck, then turned her head and met his mouth in a demanding kiss. His hand clenched on her belly, involuntarily dragging her shirt up.
Rand groaned loudly enough that she broke the kiss and stared at his buddy, breathing so fast that her breasts bounced under the revealing shirt.
She let go of Tristan and crossed the small space to Randy. For a second, they only gazed at each other, and Tristan flexed his hands.
If the night ended here, so be it. He wasn’t about to try to force anything. But fuck, this could be amazing for all three of them.
Jules took the first step. Since Randy appeared cast in stone, it made sense. If she didn’t move, he never would.
At least until she slid both palms up his chest, achingly slowly, and gripped his shoulders as she rose to her tiptoes. And Randy came to life with a growl, burying one hand in her hair and tilting her head so he could crash his mouth onto hers.
Jesus. Tristan swallowed, feeling for the first time like a voyeur in this scenario. Not that he had any intention of looking away. Hell, he couldn’t stop watching them together. How she made that little startled mewling sound before giving back as good as she got, how he reached down to cup her ass to haul her closer. Arching against Randy, she slid her hands behind his neck and changed the angle, going deeper and harder than before.
Shit, Tristan had seen fistfights less aggressive than what he was witnessing right now, and fuck if it didn’t make him hard. He also figured they probably needed to take this elsewhere. Late or not, there were other people in the house, and they were damn lucky they hadn’t been interrupted yet. Better to press pause before that changed.
Besides, relocation was good. He loved kitchens, but if he fucked in one, it would be his own.
He moved toward them and they didn’t acknowledge him. Instead of getting pissed off, Tris smiled, already anticipating how their focus would play out through the evening. He made no bones about liking to watch and these two were like a frigging forest fire. Burning everything around them.
Soon, that two would become three.
“Babe,” he murmured, sliding his hand next to Randy’s on her ass. The move was deliberate, both to let his friend know he was still there and that when he’d mentioned sharing, he’d meant exactly that.
All for fucking one, and one for fucking all.
“Let’s take this somewhere else.” Tristan kissed her shoulder and slid his other hand around her rib cage, traveling upward until he cupped her breast. Her nipple was taut, swollen, and so hot. “Somewhere more private.”
She drew back and gazed up at Randy, who still hadn’t opened his eyes. When he finally did, the first thing he latched upon was Tristan’s hand on the breast of the woman he’d just kissed into the next century.
Miracle of all miracles, he didn’t look pissed. Just dazed.
And aroused. Definitely aroused.
After a moment, Randy inhaled and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Somewhere else.” His gaze clashed with Tristan’s over her shoulder. “Juliet’s room?” he asked, almost challengingly.
“As tempting as that sounds, no. No bedrooms just yet.” Tris squeezed Juliet’s nipple and she gasped, sagging back against him. “You never said yes, sweetheart,” he said against her ear. “No pressure, but it’s important. Without yes, we don’t leave this room.” He released her, smiling inwardly at her disappointed whimper.
“Okay.” She swallowed audibly. “Yes. I mean, I’ve never done this before, but yes. God, yes.”
“Three yeses and an okay.” Tristan grinned. “Looks like we’re in business.”
She flashed a heavy-lidded look at Tris over her shoulder. “Since it’s apparently your show, now what?”
Tristan’s grin grew. He didn’t care if it made him seem like a smug asshole. Right then, he’d wear that mantle.
“Let’s go for a walk. It’s a nice night, and we’ll have some privacy.” He held out his hand.
Jules skirted around him, making his heart trip until he realized she was tucking the whipped cream and champagne in the fridge. Turning back, she took his hand, curling her fingers into his palm in a gesture of trust that stung his throat. He tightened his hold on her as he shifted his gaze to his best friend.
Silent, speculative Randy.
“Coming?” Tris asked.
Randy nodded, but he didn’t move until she reached for his hand as well. Their fingers linked, and again, Tris had to swallow hard. His reaction to Jules and Rand together didn’t make sense on any level, but he was going with it.
Going with all of this, wherever the night might lead.
Seven
Oh. My. God.
Juliet followed Tris outside with Sparks bringing up the rear. A position she’d probably better get used to fast, because holy shit.
She’d said okay, yes, this would be her first time, and they’d accepted it. Hey, threesomes were big things, at least for previously sheltered girls from Boston. Way previously, since she couldn’t claim to be sheltered any longer. Still, ménages weren’t part of her repertoire.
Soon enough they’d discover what else wasn’t.
How could she be doing this?
Truthfully, she couldn’t have said no either. What red-blooded horny woman could resist those two men?
Together, separately, spread out on a buffet covered in champagne and whipped cream. Whatever. She just wasn’t that strong.
As evidenced by her fingers trembling in Tristan’s grip. The hand still linked with Sparks somehow wasn’t shaking. Maybe because she understood that he was a reluctant participant and nervous or not, she wasn’t going to make him bolt. Or perhaps the shaking was pure excitement.
“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Tristan commented as they strolled along the curving path that led to the pool. Right then, she wasn’t too concerned with her environment.
She was too busy wondering if she’d be caught humping the lighting director and Ace Hotel’s head chef during the afterparty of Owen and Callie’s wedding.
Luckil
y, Sparks spoke for her, tucking her arm under his so securely that she couldn’t have escaped if she’d wanted to. Not that she did.
Hell to the no. She was too curious and eager now.
“Yes, I just heard an owl. Love nature, blah, blah, blah. What’s next?”
She laughed and Sparks glanced down at her, lifting a brow. “I didn’t know you had a sarcastic side, Mr. Serious.” Playfully, she bumped his hip. “Of course, I didn’t know you could kiss like that either, so surprises galore tonight, huh?”
Even in the low light from the tiki torches flaming around the pool, she saw how Sparks ducked his head. He was probably blushing too, and jeez, how sweet was that?
Better someone else blush than her, though she had a feeling she would be before long. She might not be sheltered, but tonight would be a whole new dimension.
“He keeps a lot under wraps.” Tristan lifted their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. His pace didn’t lessen, as if he was headed to a certain location. As far as she was concerned, give her a flat surface and she was good to go.
She’d had the edge taken off earlier, or so she’d thought until Tris had introduced a whole new edge. Now, her mind was spinning with possibilities.
Like…positions. Her brain was currently turning into a replica of the Kama Sutra. How many could they make it through before dawn?
Even as she tingled at the thought, that little niggle of reality tried to intrude. Again. Fucking reality. Screw that. So what if she was a little nervous? She could handle anything these two dished out. She damn well could.
Hopefully.
“Um, guys?” Her breathy question brought them both to a halt. Tris glanced back at her, and Sparks tightened his hold on her arm. “This is going to stay between us, right?”
Her older sister’s disapproving face flashed through her mind, followed swiftly by her parents. Then there was her band Warning Sign’s rep at Ripper Records, Lila Crandall, who had only agreed to sign Juliet once Margo had vouched for her. Margo was a member of the super huge band, Oblivion, as well as Lila’s best friend, so therefore, she had enough cred to override the smudge of Juliet’s previous wild child ways.
How dare she actually go out and have a good time? God forbid.
So she’d agreed to keep her nose—and her other parts—clean for a while. It wasn’t that she wasn’t allowed to have sex, but she needed to keep a low profile. She was already known as someone who didn’t toe the line.
Any line, ever.
Threesome sex at a wedding with a roadie and a high profile chef wouldn’t really improve her rep.
The band was the most important thing in her life. Finally, she’d begun to find her place. Hers. One she was keeping all on her own.
True, being the younger sister of one of the members of Oblivion had given her an in, but now she was proving to everyone—including herself—that she belonged. She wouldn’t allow anything to jeopardize what she’d found, especially not fleeting pleasure.
Earth-shattering or not, no O was worth her risking losing herself again.
“No one can know,” she said into the silence. “If that’s going to be a problem—”
“We’re your dirty secret.” Sparks gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Got it.”
“What he means,” Tris said smoothly, relinquishing her hand to take hold of her hips, “is that we grasp the need for discretion and feel the same.” He cocked a brow at Sparks, who’d shifted his head to stare off into the darkness. “We all get what this is. And what it isn’t.”
“Do we?” Sparks shot back. “Maybe you should clear it up for us then, so there’s no confusion.”
“Tonight, we’re fucking. That’s it.” Tris’s voice dropped so that the rough timbre skated over her exposed skin. Since she still wore only Tristan’s undershirt and her panties, there was a hell of a lot of exposure going on. That included between her thighs, where she was sure she was soaking through the cotton. “Jules on top of me while she sucks your dick. Jules sucking me while you fuck her from behind. Her thighs around my head while you fuck her tits.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip while she fought not to shudder. “For a start.”
Sparks said nothing. He also didn’t let go of her arm.
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even think beyond all of...that.
Was she that woman? Could she be that woman, one capable of satisfying two men while making sure she was getting satisfied as well?
Could she do that and just walk away once the daylight came?
Sounds a damn lot better than your mother putting up with an endless parade of women in your father’s life and having no say. Not even trying to have one. Her silence bought and paid for. That will never be you.
This way, Juliet would be taking control of her pleasure. Her terms, and their rules—the rules the three of them made together.
Yes. She could. She would.
She sucked in a breath and stepped closer to Tristan, placing her hand low on his bare chest. He wore only a pair of well-worn jeans, top button undone. Barefoot, bare-chested, dirty-minded. Basically, the perfect man.
Her gaze drifted to Sparks. He let go of her arm and came up behind her. She hadn’t expected him to crowd her closer to Tristan, but she didn’t mind one bit. Good thing, since she was pretty sure she was the double stuff in their Oreo.
Maybe she’d be literally double stuffed. There was a thought.
“Check that out.” Tris cupped her hand over his chest and glanced over his shoulder. The area he was focused on contained a couple of benches sheltered by some manmade rocks off to one side of the lagoon-sized pool.
Everyone had abandoned the water and aside from just the occasional thread of distant laughter from the other side of the property, they were totally alone.
Minus the houseful of people. Right.
She nodded and nudged him forward. “Perfect.”
“Wait.” Sparks rubbed his calloused hand along the outside of her bare thigh, nudging the tank she wore higher. She frowned and glanced back. “You’re barefoot. The path is uneven.”
Before she could laugh off his concern, he shocked the hell out of her by lifting her up. Not in the typical fireman’s carry style that some of the dickhead guys in her band employed when they were being jerks, but a full romance novel-style, cradling in his arms type deal. She was so flummoxed she couldn’t even rail at him. Besides, he was moving so fast toward the benches that anything she said would’ve just seemed ungrateful.
“Uh, thank you? But really, I’m okay.”
“It’s safer this way.”
Holy crap, he wasn’t even winded from carrying her up the slight slope to the secluded area Tristan had indicated. Small, rainbow-colored lights added an additional intimacy, mixing the shadows with pops of color. The beams bounced off the water, nearly blinding her when she glanced up at Sparks face to see his gaze riveted on hers.
The intensity there scared her brainless.
He set her down on her feet beside one of the wrought iron benches and she reached out to steady herself, not at all sure why her knees had gone to water. “Easy fuck, remember?” she said with her usual bravado, except the question seemed hollow. It sounded like she was faking a breeziness she so didn’t feel.
How could she? There wasn’t enough alcohol in all of California to dull her awareness of this situation.
“Don’t mind his gallantry.” Tris patted Sparks on the back. “He’s a romantic, babe. Can’t help himself. He’ll probably call you darling when he asks you to deep throat him.”
She stiffened, not sure how Sparks would react to Tris’s casual remark. To her utter surprise, he only grinned and shrugged as he dipped his hands in his pockets.
“We’ll see.”
“Yeah, we will.” Tris sat on the bench and patted his lap. “C’mere, Jules.”
Without allowing herself to think, she sat on his lap. He drew her back against his bare chest, and the heat from his body seeped th
rough her skin. The night was chilly and she was the next thing to naked, but it was hard to be cold when she had a big, warm male enfolding her in his arms. He slipped his hand under her shirt and slid it up to her breast, thumbing her nipple roughly. “Open your legs for us,” he said against her ear.
She complied without hesitation, though the “us” he mentioned was really just him at that moment. Sparks was still standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his eyes low-lidded as he watched Tris fondle her breast.
Through the shirt, it must look almost obscene. Not that he seemed to mind from the way he licked his lips, so slowly that an answering throb echoed in her core.
Tris slid his hand up her inner thigh, parting her legs even more so that one fell on either side of his. He drew the back of his thumb over her cloth-covered seam and she gasped, unable to stifle the sound.
As if she’d summoned him, Sparks stepped forward and knelt before them, his green eyes so dark in the shadows that she would’ve sworn they were black. The lines of Sparks’s face went taut with lust as Tris nudged aside that panel of fabric, baring her pussy to his buddy as if she were one of his famed desserts. Instead of chocolate ganache or succulent raspberries garnishing the top, there was just arousal coating her flesh, so copious that she would’ve been embarrassed if there had been room left inside her for anything but excitement.
This was really happening. She was finally doing this. No more holding back. No more silly fears.
She was following through in a spectacular, unforgettable way.
Without a word, Sparks moved forward. He tugged off her panties, tucking them into his back pocket.
Hell of a handkerchief.
On the verge of a giggle, she sobered as he pressed her knees open farther and lowered his head. After Tris eating her out earlier, she expected to still be sensitive, but when Sparks’s tongue touched her, it was pure pleasure. He didn’t kiss her belly or her inner thighs first as she would’ve assumed, just went right for the prize.