by Jodi Redford
Fuck. He needed to steer his thoughts to something else before his dick required a good dunking in an ice bath.
He tossed the plates in the sink with a clatter and met Mason’s smirk. His best friend reached for the key lime pie they’d picked up the previous day but not yet sampled. “Might want to get that flag pole lowered before going back in there.”
“Likewise.”
They simultaneously adjusted their flies. After grabbing some clean forks, he tailed Mason into the dining room. Regan’s face lit up as soon as she spotted the pie. “Oh my goodness. That’s my absolute favorite.”
He and Mason eyed each other, a mental fist bump passing between them. They resumed their seats and dug into the sweet yet satisfyingly tart dessert. Two bites into his, Nash became heavily distracted by the mms of pleasure rolling from Regan. His dick throbbing like a sonofabitch again, he stared at her, imagining those sexy noises pouring from her while he shafted her pussy, nice and deep. She licked the tines of her fork, the tip of her tongue destroying his equilibrium. And willpower.
Yeah, Mason likely wouldn’t appreciate losing the first shot. Only the tiniest niggle of guilt snaking through Nash, he freed the fork from Regan’s grasp and hauled her in for a proper taste. He preempted her gasp of surprise with his lips. She melted into the kiss quicker than he would ever have anticipated. All soft sweetness begging for a leisurely exploration.
He cupped the back of her head, re-angled his approach. Everything inside him pushed to go in for the kill. Devour her in one big lusty bite. Instead he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, the sound of her moan frying his brain cells.
Fuck. He was one-hundred-percent gone. Done for. Sliding both hands around the sides of her face, he licked his way into her mouth, their tongues meeting in the middle with a wet, silken glide. The faint tartness of the key lime lingered, but it was the flavor of Regan that held the key to his newfound addiction.
Her hand slid to his chest and she bunched up his shirt, dragged him a little closer. Like he needed to be asked twice. Shifting in his chair, he grasped her by the waist and hauled her onto his lap so she straddled him. She only hesitated for a moment before sliding her arms around his neck and returning his kiss with a greediness that fired his blood. Beneath the sweet angel was a hungry sex goddess waiting to be unleashed. He was willing to bet that even Regan was unaware of her presence. Well, he was about to help her free that latent sensuality screaming to be released.
Sliding his mouth to her neck, he sucked directly on her beating pulse, causing her to squirm and arch into him. From the corner of his eye, he caught Mason’s heated stare. He didn’t appear too put out at missing the first crack at kissing her. Guess if you provided enough sexiness to watch, some slights were easier to overlook. If the man was gonna watch, might as well make the view extra spectacular.
He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her dress. She didn’t balk at that boldness, so he continued the quest onward and upward, until his hands splayed on her hips, his fingertips resting on the elastic of her panties. She tensed, and he immediately halted any further progression. He slid his mouth to hear ear and nuzzled the fragrant hollow just beneath her lobe. “Too fast?”
“M-maybe.” Her breath shallow and rapid, she pulled back slightly, her face flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“Absolutely nothing to be sorry for, darlin’.” He removed his hands and stroked her cheek. “If something makes you uncomfortable, you say it. Every damn time, no matter what. Understood?”
“Yes.” Her chuckle didn’t negate the relief in her eyes. “Why do I feel like I should tack a ‘sir’ onto the end of that?”
He could think of several occasions he’d enjoy hearing that word come out of her mouth, but probably best to save that for another day. Acutely aware of the throbbing in his dick, he assisted her to her feet and tucked the loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “Everything okay between us?”
Her smile radiant, she nodded, instantly banishing the heavy weight of concern sitting like an anvil on his chest. He hugged her. “Good. Then we’ll see you tomorrow. If you’re free.”
A pink glow of happiness crept over her cheeks. “I’d like that.”
They walked her to her door, despite her laughing protests that she could handle the hundred or so steps without getting lost. He offered her another squeeze and stepped back for Mas to take his turn. He knew before his buddy took her into his arms that Mason wasn’t going to settle for a friendly hug.
Running his fingers through her hair, he held her steady and claimed her mouth with a focused carnality that likely steamed the air within a fifty mile radius. Nash observed the slick dance of their tongues, the pressure in his balls increasing until he thought they’d explode.
After endless moments, Mason released Regan and she staggered back against the door, her eyes dilated. “Wow. Okay. T-thanks again for dinner.”
“Our pleasure,” he and Mason responded in unison.
Licking her lips, she stared at them for a long beat before expelling a shaky breath and scooting inside the cottage. Once the audible click of the deadbolt verified she was securely tucked in for the night, he and Mason made the return trip across the yard. A mountain of dishes waited in the kitchen, but right now he had a date with the coldest shower in existence.
CHAPTER FIVE
S he’d dreaded turning the big three-oh. The looming approach of that milestone a huge cruel joke, especially after the whole fiasco with Steven’s eighteen-year-old. But for the first time in months, her age wasn’t an anvil hanging around her neck. Probably it had something to do with yesterday’s surreal events.
Her bowl of cereal completely forgotten, she pressed two fingers to her lips, the phantom memory of Nash’s and Mason’s electrifying kisses lingering there with decadent promise. Never in her life had she experienced anything like it. Of course, not like she’d ever kissed two men in the same night either.
Giddiness sweeping through her, she giggled. Across the room, Buzz and Woody broke out in reciprocal squeaks, which only added to the weirdness of the moment. Shaking her head at the craziness, she carried her bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before stashing it in the dishwasher.
Even in the beginning stages of her and Steven’s relationship there’d never been that kind of toe-curling passion between them. Yeah, the sex had been decent enough, if not exactly fulfilling. She’d only experienced an orgasm with him a handful of times. Mostly because he wasn’t a huge fan of foreplay. The times he went down on her it’d been awkward and rushed. He hadn’t come out and said it, but she’d always intuited his impatience stemmed from how long it was taking—which of course only made the likelihood of her climax even more of a pipedream. The horrible truth? She’d faked it. A lot.
You wouldn’t have to fake it with Mason and Nash.
Right on cue, her clit tingled. Jeez, even her body was certain of the fact. But considering her wild reaction to their kisses, the assumption they’d rock her panties off in bed likely wasn’t a farfetched conclusion.
The only question that remained— would she sleep with them?
A part of her couldn’t believe she was even contemplating it. A one night stand? Total crazy pants. And in this case, she wouldn’t be having it with just one man.
She wasn’t even entirely sure of all the mechanics involved. Sure, she’d read a few titillating romances where the heroine fell into bed with a pair—or more—of well-hung lusty men who gave her screaming O’s into the next week. Or at least until the end of the chapter. But she had no damn clue if any of that was remotely in line with reality.
Harper. She’d be able to give her the 411 on what to expect.
Assuming she went through with it.
You know you want to. Who are you trying to freakin’ kid here? Buzz and Woody? She glanced toward their pen, fully expecting their beady little ey
es to be brimming with judgement. Mostly they just looked excited about the smorgasbord of carrots and romaine lettuce she’d recently tossed in their pen.
Nerves dancing a rhumba, she snatched her cell and dialed Harper. Hopefully she wasn’t still asleep. The possibility wasn’t entirely out in left field, depending on how late she’d stayed at work last night.
Harper picked up on the third ring and immediately launched into a rousing, off-key chorus of Happy Birthday. Regan winced, her fingers cramping as she fought the urge to plug her ears. She loved her best friend to death, but her singing held the ability to make dogs howl from two miles away. Once the song wrapped up, she mentally gusted a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”... for ending that before my ears started bleeding . Only a trace of guilt blanketing her for that internal thought, she cleared her throat. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
A loud yawn drifted through the receiver. “Nah. I needed to drag my ass out of bed anyway. So how does it feel being thirty?”
“Pretty much how you’d think it would.” She hitched her shoulder in a half shrug. “Like twenty-nine, only tack on a year.”
“Sounds epic.”
“It really is.” She leaned her butt against the stove handle. “Speaking of epic...something happened yesterday, and I could use your advice.”
“Well, you know how I love dishing that out. What gives?”
“I met someone.” She chewed anxiously on the tip of her fingernail. “Actually...two someones.”
“Ooh, do tell.” There was no mistaking the intrigue in Harper’s tone.
She filled her best friend in on her auspicious introduction to the hunky neighbors. Naturally Harper jumped on the opportunity to point out her part in bringing that about. Regan rolled her eyes. “If you think I’m going to thank you for that, you’re delusional.”
“But you’ve got to admit it’s a great story you can pass down to the grandkids.” Harper mimicked an old lady voice that made Regan’s lips twitch. “You little pipsqueaks wouldn’t even be here if not for your great auntie Harper and the Giant Dildo Factory.”
“You are a twisted woman. Seriously, I’m saving up for your therapy.” She crossed her feet and stared at the toe seam on her slipper socks. “And you’re really jumping the gun. We kissed. That hardly qualifies as future grandchildren material. Especially since I’m not sure I even want to, you know, sleep with them.”
She should have known Harper would see right through that smoking pile of BS. And call her out on it.
Harper sniffed noisily. “Excuse me, but am I the only one smelling a liar’s pants on fire?”
“Okay, there’s a seventy-five percent chance I want to do it.” She sighed in response to Harper’s pointed cough. “Fine, ninety percent. Happy?”
“ You’re the one I want to be happy. And indulging in some dirty, sweaty sex with your hot neighbors is exactly what the doctor ordered.”
“Wow, this doctor has an incredibly weird prescription plan.”
“Smartass.” Harper chuckled before immediately sobering. “You’ve had an incredibly rough patch, Regan. I know that douche waffle destroyed your confidence. The best way to regain it is to climb on those two hot hobbyhorses and put Steven where he belongs—in the past.”
“He is.” Then why can’t I get his voice out of my head? Four months was four months too long to be shackled to the doubts and insecurities his cheating had created. She trudged back to her seat, her stomach twisting for reasons that had nothing to do with the four cups of coffee she’d gulped down this morning.
What if Nash and Mason came to their senses and realized she wasn’t an exciting woman with a perfect, knockout body.
What does it matter? You’re here for five more days. At most, this was a potential sexy fling. Not the start of a relationship. She didn’t need to worry about her confidence being stripped. Come Monday afternoon, she’d hit the road for home and never see them again. She’d go back to her comfortable—albeit boring—existence, unhindered with the worry of somehow disappointing them for being...well, herself.
In the meantime, she just needed to get a decent grip on what to expect in the bedroom department so she didn’t look like a total clueless basket case. “Getting back to Nash and Mason. I’ll admit that I’m kind of freaked out. They’ve done this kind of thing before. I haven’t. What if my inexperience ends up turning them off?”
Harper’s laugh rang through the receiver, earning Regan’s grumpy growl. “What? It’s a completely valid question.”
“No, it’s not. Do you honestly believe they’re going to give a rat’s ass that you haven’t gang banged every dude in sight? Come on. That isn’t what triggered their interest in you. They saw a smokin’ hot hottie and wanted to defile her in all kinds of lewd ways that are probably illegal in fifty states. You lucky bitch. Now stop overthinking this.”
“You’re right. Except the smokin’ hot hottie part. Clearly you’re blind and biased. But I’m going to stop dreading over it.” Or at least she’d try. For her, that was a major step in forward progress.
“So when do you think you’ll pop your threesome cherry?”
“I-I don’t know. I guess when I see them next.” The butterflies in her tummy started assaulting each other with flying Kung Fu kicks. “They said something about that being today. Although, who knows. Maybe they changed their minds.”
“Trust me, they didn’t. And it’s perfect. Two hunks for your birthday. Almost better than G.I. Joe delivering a package from the Giant Dildo Factory. Almost .”
Oh Lord. If she only knew.
CHAPTER SIX
T he doorbell chimed at six p.m. sharp. Nerves making a mosh pit of her gut, she powered down her laptop and smoothed trembling fingers over her hair. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she crossed to the atrium. After a quick looksee through the peep hole to verify it was Nash and Mason, she swung open the door and mentally wiped the drool from her chin.
Today they both wore jeans, faded and snug in all the right places. Tearing her gaze from the impressive bulges behind their flies, she winged her attention upward, past rock-hard abs and broad, muscular chests encased in cotton tees. Mason’s was white, and topped with a short-sleeved button down in a shade of blue that nearly matched his eyes. As for Nash, he looked equally delectable and slightly dangerous in his black tee and matching over-shirt with tribal skulls imprinted on the pockets.
If their overwhelming hotness wasn’t enough to send her head spinning, the scrumptious scent wafting from them stepped in to ensure maximum dizziness. Pulse tap dancing, she scooted onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “You both look nice.” There was the world’s biggest understatement.”
Nash’s teeth flashed with his grin. “You should have seen us when we got home. Today was mud obstacle run. There’s a fifty percent chance there’s still lingering traces of muck in unmentionable parts.”
Oh great. Like she was going to have the slightest chance of veering her mind away from those parts now. “That’s when it’d come in handy having an extra set of hands for the difficult to reach areas.”
Nash’s eyes twinkled. “My thoughts exactly.”
Her brain had a field day conjuring the naughtiness. Fragrant shower steam billowing around the three of them. Teasing fingers roaming over slick, soapy skin. Two sets of mouths on her breasts. Or maybe one of them concentrating on her nipples while the other licked and sucked her clit.
The nub in question instantly throbbed in response to the wicked visual. Corking a whimper, she released the door handle. Mason was the first to pull her close. He lowered his head and a wispy sigh of anticipation escaped her before his lips claimed hers.
She hadn’t exaggerated the memory of his kiss. If anything, it was a thousand degrees hotter than the erotic reel of mental snapshots she’d kept replaying while she’d
tossed and turned in bed, wet and aroused.
Her pussy just as drenched as it’d been last night—if not more—she surrendered to the coaxing glide of his tongue. The man knew his way around a kiss. Besides devastating her with his mouth, his hands were in constant motion, gently squeezing and massaging every inch of her he encountered, effortlessly turning her into a quivering mass of sensation. It was as if his kneading fingers possessed the magical ability to create brand new erogenous zones. Or awaken dormant ones that’d lain in complete ignorance of their own existence all these years.
He reluctantly released her. Her lips didn’t have long to remain lonely though. Nash stepped up to the plate and destroyed the few remaining brain cells Mason had left intact. His tongue equally persuasive and bold as his friend’s, Nash explored her mouth, his hungry groan traveling all the way down to her toes. He cupped her butt cheeks through the fabric of her capris and drew her snug to his front, ensuring she felt every inch of the steely hardness wedged against her abdomen.
Oh my . They came up for air and she licked her lips, her inner hussy deciding to have some say. She wantonly rubbed against him. “Is that for me?”
“Every inch, baby.”
The carnality in his eyes stole her breath. Oh, how tempting it was to grab him and Mason by the belt loops and drag them inside the house. A welcome revelation, considering her massive doubts earlier. Not that her reservations didn’t lurk in the background. But for once, she was going to tune them out. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.” She cruised her focus to Mason, who was watching her with the same flashfire in his eyes as Nash. “Both of you.”
“Likewise, sweetheart.” Mason lifted her hand to his mouth and did that finger biting thing that filled her with shivery need yesterday. Now proved to be no different. “I woke up half a dozen times with my dick so hard, it tented the sheets.”