by Fiona Cole
“How long have we been working on this song?” Ash groaned.
“Just today or including last week?” Parker asked.
“Three hours and thirty-seven minutes today,” I answered. “At least four-hundred-and-ninety-nine last week.”
“Sounds about right.” Oren nodded, getting up off the floor. “You know what we need?” he asked, turning to the iPad on the wall.
We watched him expectantly, all muttering different variations of doubt when he turned the main lights off and left the accessory lights along the ceiling’s edge on. Before the music even started, Oren’s hips rocked side to side, only increasing our groans, tossing scraps of paper from our failed writing attempts at him.
It didn’t faze him. When Billie Eilish came over the speakers, he danced to the kitchen, digging in the cabinet to come out with a bottle of tequila.
“Oh, no,” I objected before he could get glasses.
“Oh, yes,” he responded with a smile. “It’s time to dance this funk out and drink tequila. We’re bound to say something poetic with tequila.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever said anything poetic with tequila.”
“Come on, Supernova,” he coaxed, dancing toward the group.
I looked around, and the guys were already accepting their shots. I looked to Parker to gauge his reaction about stopping writing but was met with an amused smile and shrug before he downed the shot.
“At this point, I’m willing to try anything,” he explained.
Three weeks and two mediocre songs sat next to me in my notebook. In less than a month, we needed to have at least five, and it wasn’t looking good at this rate. Shaking my head, I agreed with Parker. I was willing to try anything, and while our adventures were helping, they weren’t helping fast enough. “Fuck it,” I muttered, taking the glass from Oren and shooting the liquor back. It burned down my throat, and I barely felt it settle in my stomach before I held my glass out for another.
“That’s my girl,” Oren crowed, filling my glass.
This time, when I looked over, Parker was the one assessing me, and I copied his shrug. “Why the fuck not.”
The liquor hit my veins, and I rolled my neck to the beat, loosening my tense muscles. The chords sank into my muscles, easing them more. I closed my eyes and moved my shoulders first, working down to my hips, limited by my position on the couch.
Next thing I knew, hands wrapped around mine, jerking me up into Oren’s arms. He narrowed his eyes in a sultry stare, pouting his lips, and held me as he swayed our hips to the music blasting through the speakers.
Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave in to the rhythm. We all danced around each other, shouting lyrics, and letting loose. After those two shots, I decided to stick with water, but the rest of the guys finished off the bottle. More than once, Parker and I found each other and danced, but the guys around us helped keep me from staying too long. Not that it mattered because each time my eyes met his, each time his hands held mine to twirl me around, another crack formed in my resolve.
“Ooooo,” Oren shouted between songs. “You know what we should play?”
“Oh, shit,” Parker muttered. “The last time Oren said that sentence, I ended up streaking down a hotel corridor with just a hand towel.”
“Hey, that was your fault for sucking at strip poker,” Oren defended.
“No,” I gasped.
“Yup.”
I looked him up and down, imagining Parker’s long, hard body running down the hallway, not at all covered by a towel. I kind of couldn’t wait for Oren’s idea, keeping my fingers crossed for strip poker.
“Spin the bottle,” he cried.
“Uhhhh,” Brogan interjected, looking dubious. There’s a lot of guys here, bro.”
“Psshh, we’re all friends. It’s not like we have to make out. We just have this empty bottle of tequila, and what else should we do with it?”
“Throw it away?” Ash suggested.
“Nah,” I cut in. “I am one-hundred-percent down with this idea.”
“I fucking bet,” Parker muttered.
“Okay, you big babies. We’ll do a truth or kiss version of spin the bottle,” Oren amended.
“What the hell is that?” Brogan asked.
“I don’t know. I just made it up. Let’s figure it out together. Come, come,” Oren said, clapping his hands. “Let’s gather around.”
I plopped down in my seat so fast, almost bouncing in excitement to get going. For some reason, I saw absolutely no downside to kissing every guy here. I’d just blame it on the tequila.
“I’ll go first.” Oren spun the bottle, and I looked up expectantly when it landed on me. “Okay, Nova. Truth or kiss?”
“Who do I kiss?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he waggled his brows.
I snorted. “Truth.”
“Ugh. Fine. Okay. Soft or hard…tacos.”
“Hard,” I shouted like I won a prize or something. I took my turn and spun the bottle, landing on Brogan. “Truth or kiss, Brogan?”
“Definitely kiss.”
The guys cheered with ooooohhs, and I pretended to primp my messy hair.
Oren quickly cut the cheers down with his drumsticks on the table. “Order! Order at the table! Brogan has chosen kiss, so Nova gets to choose who he kisses.”
“Wait, what?” he screeched.
“Yes,” I shouted.
“You have to answer the truth or kiss whoever Nova chooses. If she didn’t want to answer the truth, I would have made her kiss me.”
“C’mon, Nova,” Brogan pleaded dramatically with a pouty lip poking through his beard.
“Oh, no, no, no. You can answer truth or kiss Oren.”
“Oh, fuck no.”
And the guys began shouting again while I clapped my hands in joy.
“Truth,” Brogan grumbled.
I narrowed my eyes, giving him my most threatening stare. “Did you fuck Amber on my bed that one night when we were all in the living room after the Barney’s concert?”
He gave me his own stare back. “No.”
“Oh, thank god, I still have those sheets,” I sighed.
“She sucked my cock, and I ate her pussy, and man, was she wet and messy.” Brogan smiled, cutting off my joy.
“Fucking gross,” I shouted. The guys gave him high-fives, and I made a note to burn those sheets when I got home.
Brogan spun the bottle, and it landed on Oren again. He answered truth, turning down Brogan’s offer to kiss his bare feet.
“I’m into a lot of weird things, but feet are a hard pass.”
The next spin landed on Ash.
“Truth or kiss Parker,” Oren declared, rubbing his hands together. I looked just in time to catch Parker’s cringe.
“Truth,” Ash answered.
“Who do you get all bent out of shape over every November?”
Only a slight moment of hesitation. There and then gone in the blink of an eye. The next thing I knew, Ash stood from the captain’s chair, gesturing for Parker to stand too. “All right, bro. Let’s not make a thing of it. Just pucker up and feel grateful you got a kiss from the great Ash.”
“Wait, what?” Parker shouted. “Don’t I get a say?”
“’Fraid not,” Oren said, not sounding the least remorseful. “You joined the game.”
“I didn’t know the rules.”
“Come on, Parker. Don’t be a baby,” I taunted.
He directed his glare at me, and I rested my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands like a kid desperate to tear through her Halloween candy.
He narrowed his eyes more. “I’ll get you back.”
“Bring it on,” I challenged. “But first, pucker up. And no pecking. We’re not in middle school.”
“Come the fuck on,” Ash grumbled.
Brogan started to chant “kiss,” and Oren and I joined in. When they stepped close, I stopped—I didn’t have any air left in my lungs to say words. I waited on t
he edge of my seat as they inched closer.
As soon as their lips touched, they jerked apart. Oren and Brogan cheered, and I boo’d my disappointment. They may as well have been in middle school. As soon as they pulled away, both of them wiped their mouths with the backs of their hands.
“Pussies,” Brogan called.
“That wasn’t so bad,” I said, nudging Parker’s toe with mine.
He glared but couldn’t hold it when I made exaggerated kissing noises. His lips twitched into a smile that stole my breath. More and more, everything he did stole my breath. It was an odd mix of laughing and joking with unexpected flashes of heat and so, so much more.
Ash spun next, getting Brogan. I should have known I was in trouble when he looked to Parker and then me, his lips twisting into this devil smile.
“What’s your favorite ice cream?” he asked Brogan. “Or kiss Nova.”
“I’ll never fucking tell,” Brogan laughed, standing from his spot to come to me.
Parker’s eyes flicked from me to Brogan and back again. Before I could get a read on them, Brogan grabbed my hand and jerked me upright into his arms. He held me close, looking down at my mouth. I shivered when his hand slid up my back, pressing me closer. Not really because of Brogan’s touch, but because the thought of Parker watching me be touched sparked a corner of my fantasies I only visited at night.
I tried to look to Parker to see his reaction. Brogan’s intensity changed the playful mood. Not enough to stop because along with those serious undertones came a ripple of excitement. Brogan caught me trying to look away, and in the next instant, his large hand delved into my hair, making a tight enough fist to pull my attention to him and tip my head back.
“Look at me,” he ordered in a deeper voice than I’d ever heard him use.
The gravel tone and sting in my scalp sent the first wave of reality through me. These weren’t teenage boys anymore, despite how much they acted like kids. No, they were mature men who probably had women at the ready to let them explore whatever they wanted. I couldn’t help but wonder what Brogan had explored and found he liked.
I knew I had explored and found a whole new world as I grew up. Just not with anyone else. I explored my sexuality through the internet and research.
It made me wonder what Parker had discovered about himself.
Brogan inhaled deeply, brushing his nose along mine, and I struggled to control my breathing, anticipating and waiting for his kiss.
But in the end—they may have been men with experience—but they were still the same guys I knew.
Brogan pressed his lips to mine, and I had less than two seconds to feel the rough scruff of his beard before his free hand pinched at my ribs, making me jerk back and squirm to get free, shouting for help.
When he finally let me go, I plopped back and crossed my arms. “Traitors,” I called, glaring at each of the guys who were wiping tears from their eyes.
Brogan spun the bottle and set Oren up to be the one I kissed. He stood, bowing like a regal prince before standing me up and dipping me back with flair.
“My lady,” he murmured.
“Kiss me, my prince,” I demanded breathlessly, laughing, my hair brushing the floor.
“As you wish.”
I puckered up and immediately screamed when his tongue slid along my cheek.
“Oren, that’s disgusting.”
He set me upright with a shrug and an unrepentant smile. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
When he spun the bottle, it landed on Ash.
Oren rolled his eyes. “All right, I’ll take pity on you and challenge you to kiss Nova. Besides, we know you’ll never admit the truth if your penis is a micro-penis or an extra micro-penis.”
Ash flipped him off, and for the first time all night, when I looked to Parker, he didn’t meet my stare with a lighthearted wink and smile. There was trepidation and maybe something else—something heated.
Ash stood, uncurling his body from the captain’s chair. He watched me, cocking his head to the side like a lion studying his prey before crooking his finger for me to stand.
Other than the music playing in the background, the bus hummed quietly down the highway, everyone else falling silent. With each kiss, the guys had cheered, but not now.
My eyes flicked to Parker, and my heart kicked harder in my chest. He lounged, legs spread, body leaned back without a care in the world—except for the way his fingers almost turned white with the way they dug into the leather of the chair.
Needing to lighten the mood to ease my nerves, I popped up and smiled. “All right, Ash. Lay one on me. And just an FYI, I kind of dug the way Oren dipped me, but maybe leave out the face lick.” With a wink, I closed my eyes and puckered up like a kid in a movie.
“What can I say? I got a good dip,” Oren joked, but it wasn’t enough to loosen the tension of corkscrews twisting down my spine.
Especially when the next thing I knew, heat covered the front of my body and a large palm pressed against the small of my back under my shirt. My eyes shot open, and I was met with Ash’s sharp jaw covered in a light smattering of black stubble so different from Parker’s lighter coloring. His tongue slicked out along his bottom lip, and I wanted to look for Parker for…reassurance, maybe? That maybe the flash of heat I saw matched the embers burning brighter inside me.
I knew the guys watched me. I knew Parker watched me, and the thought of it had other emotions creeping out to mix with my nerves.
Excitement. Confidence. A hint of resentment and revenge.
Just over a month ago, I pictured I’d be like this in Parker’s arms, waiting for this kiss. Instead, he’d locked lips with Sonia, and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to get back at him.
So, with a slight tremor, I rested my hands on Ash’s hips. “You gonna kiss me or tell us about your penis.”
His mouth quirked, and he huffed a laugh. “I’d happily show you my penis if you’d like.”
I pretended to think on it before scrunching my nose. “I’m good.”
He shook his head, his smile growing.
He leaned down, forcing my back to arch over his hand as his other hand came up to brush my hair off my neck, only so he could make a patch to breathe me in. “This is killing him,” he whispered so only I could hear.
My eyes searched for Parker, only catching a glimpse of his tight jaw before Ash filled my view again.
“Let’s make it fun, shall we.”
“I thought we were already having fun,” I responded breathlessly.
He gave me a stare that said I knew better and whipped me around until my back faced Parker. “Sit on his lap,” Ash ordered.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“I said. Sit. On Parker’s. Lap.”
“Why?”
“So, I can kiss you.”
“Oh, hell yes,” Brogan mumbled from his spot.
“I-I don’t—”
“Do you have a problem with that, Parker?”
I jerked around to watch his reaction over my shoulder. His heavy-lidded eyes met mine, and he slowly shook his head. His fingers eased from their death grip on the chair and slid around my hips, tugging me back until I had nowhere else to go.
My body sparked to life. If I thought the casual touches here and there over the last few weeks had sent me into a frenzy, it was nothing compared to the fire spreading its way through my veins. His long fingers rested in the hollow just under the ridge of my hips, and I gasped when I encountered the hard length under me.
“It’s a normal thing around you,” he murmured in my ear.
More heat swirled up from my core, and my nervous excitement grew. Each movement and breath against my sensitive skin hit me like gasoline until I was sure the fire would be a raging inferno, burning us all.
Ash moved between Parker’s spread legs and leaned down, looking to Parker first and apparently finding approval before focusing his attention on me.
His palm slid behind my neck, holding me in place
before finally kissing me. It started slow—teasing—a sharp nip of his teeth and a soft flick to soothe the pinch. His hand landed on my waist, and I gasped, giving him the opportunity to dip his tongue inside my mouth.
Parker’s hands gripped tighter, and I sucked in a breath, involuntarily grinding into his lap, loving the groan that vibrated against my back.
Despite Ash being the one whose mouth claimed mine, my focus centered on the way Parker’s quick puffs of air heated my neck. On the way his chest rose and fell over his thudding heartbeat that matched my own. All my attention remained on every flinch and adjustment he made with my body pressed to his.
Ash finally pulled back with one last nip to my lips. My eyes struggled to slide open, not wanting to come out of the haze. I searched the depths of his dark eyes, trying to figure out what this was all about.
“Put the poor guy out of his misery and kiss him,” he murmured before standing.
I struggled to make sense of his words until he reached back for the bottle and specifically turned it to face me. “Kiss Parker or tell us your filthiest fantasy you masturbate to.”
“Oh, shit,” Oren exclaimed. “I’m not seeing a downside.”
Heat swelled like a living thing inside me, and Parker’s hard cock pressed against my ass. Part of me wanted to fuck with them all and come up with something insane to get off to. Another part of me considered saying fuck it and going to bed. But the bigger part of me, the teen girl who wanted Parker—who wanted Parker without hiding it, the woman who’d done nothing but fantasize about him for years—that part didn’t give a shit about anything else but feeling Parker’s lips on mine.
At least, until I faced Parker, and for the first time all night, I didn’t love the guys’ eyes on me. I gravitated to his heavy-lidded gaze. I stood between his parted knees and even reached down to stroke the light scruff along his jaw. But when I tried to move my body into position to kiss him, I couldn’t. After all this time, I couldn’t imagine kissing him with everyone watching.
Kissing the other guys had been funny and joking. Kissing Parker was anything but light and playful.