Out of Bounds (Reedsville Roosters #5)

by Holley Trent

  “Lo’s usually very clear about her intentions. She’s not really the kind of woman who’ll leave things open for interpretation.” He pointed to Gary’s cross-trainers. “Take those off. And come here.”

  Gary nudged his shoes off by the heels and then stepped into the gap between Dean’s legs where Lo previously had been.

  “You don’t need this.” He grabbed the bottom of Gary’s shirt by the hem and lifted it over his head. “Get rid of the shorts, too, and whatever you have on under them.”

  Gary obeyed, but with his brow furrowed. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  “You need a shower.”

  Gary snorted. “Yeah. No kidding. Water’s on the fritz at the field again. Sprinkler contractor dug into a pipe or something, and now there’s no water pressure in the locker rooms.”

  “When Lo comes out, you go in and clean yourself up.”

  “For dinner?”

  “Yeah. That, too.”

  “Want to let me in on the plan?”

  “No plan. Just playing things by ear.” Dean gave one of Gary’s ears a tug to accentuate the point.

  “God forbid you think too much, right? As if I’d find some trouble to get into if you tell me things.”

  “As if you wouldn’t know how to find some on your own.”

  Lo stepped out of the bathroom, and Gary immediately took her place, blowing a kiss at her as he walked past.

  “Well, hi,” she said.

  He closed the door, and she looked and Dean and crooked her thumb toward it. “Did you know he was naked?” she asked.

  Dean nodded slowly.

  “Did you have anything to do with that?”

  “Maybe a little something.”

  “I see.” She smoothed her hands up the front of Dean’s shirt—wrinkled, because crispness hadn’t mattered given his job description—and then grabbed him by the collar.

  “So, just how much naked Gary have you seen in the past few days?”

  He shrugged. “Not as much as you might think.”

  “No hanky-panky while I was pining away at home?”

  “Nope. Nothing you don’t already know about.”

  “I can’t believe how well-behaved you are.”

  “Not well-behaved.” He let her unfasten his shirt buttons, making her pause briefly so he could kiss the backs of her wrists. “Just wanted you to see.”

  “Ah.” She continued unbuttoning one-handed, and he kept kissing up her free arm. “What am I going to see?”

  “Whatever you want. You’ve always been the better director. I figured you’d have some ideas.”

  “I’ve got a few. If I were more confident about my energy level, I’d suggest we’d start by pushing the beds together, but we’ll make due with one queen bed.”

  “Mmm. Yeah. A bigger bed sounds nice.”

  She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, then gave it a toss toward the laundry pile. “Who gets the middle position, anyway? I can’t decide if that’d be a good spot or a bad one.”

  “Depends on what you want, I guess. If you’re on an airplane, the middle seat is arguably the worst, but being squeezed between two people you’re attracted to probably isn’t the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you.”

  She tipped her chin up and grinned at him. “I like when you talk, Dean.”

  “Shit, I hope so.”

  Lo pushed up onto her tiptoes and pursed her lips, so he gave her the kiss she was obviously seeking.

  He loved her kisses—the way she teased and titillated with the tiniest flicks of her tongue and how her hands searched his body as she explored his mouth.

  Her fingernails left pleasurable stings in their wakes as she dragged them down his nipples, and then she put her mouth where her fingers had been.

  Licking, sucking, nipping at the hard nubs as she slid her hands down the front of his shorts and unerringly found his erection. She’d always had a knack for gauging the angle of his hang.

  “No substitution for that,” she said, giving his shaft a squeeze.

  “I’d hope I’m not so easy to replace, and certainly not by something mechanical. You should get rid of that, by the way.”

  “Why?” She tugged him by the cock toward the bed. “I might need it again.”

  “If I ever have to go away again, you could just wait until I get home.”

  She flopped back onto the bed and kicked off her flip-flops. “You really can’t expect me to not have an orgasm ever unless you’re around.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I expect.”

  “Oh,” she laughed. “I see. Did you develop a bossy streak while I was away?”

  “I’m the same as I’ve always been. Just saying aloud what’s been in my head.”

  “I’d like to be in your head.”

  “Analyze me later,” he said. Lo was wearing some kind of stretchy skirt made out of sweatshirt material he’d never seen her in before. Made her legs look sexy as hell, but he wanted it off. In the past, he might have asked her to take it off or just waited.

  He gave the skirt a forceful tug, pulling the garment off her and her panties halfway down in the process. “Jesus,” he uttered at the sight of her.

  “Hey!” She pressed what she hoped was a punishingly cold foot against his chest, likely at his blaspheming, making him hiss.

  “Sorry.” He nudged her foot away. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  Her panties were lacy little things that’d been held up by flimsy ties at the sides. They were panties meant to be seen. “Are those new?”

  “Maybe.” She gave a little wriggle and put her hands casually beneath her head. “You like them?”

  “Mm.” He got on his knees to show her just how much. He kissed up the insides of her thighs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted her, or even just looked at her. They were always so go-go-go, which was nice most of the time. The orgasms were always amazing, but he wanted to slow things down every now and then, too. He wanted to enjoy his wife, and not just devour her.

  “I figured, why save all my good panties for porn?” she said.

  “I hope no one was staring up your skirt while you were on an airport escalator or something.”

  She shrugged and gave his chest a little tickle with her big toe. “So some guy goes home and rubs one out because he saw a bit of ass cheek—more power to him.”

  “I should probably be more angry of the idea of random strangers rubbing one out after they’ve seen your bits.” He kissed the seam between her thigh and shaved snatch and skimmed a finger along her slit.

  “Mmm. But?”

  “But they can’t have you. Not really. They can look at you, but I’m the one who’s here. I get to taste you.” And he did, just a lick. “I get to touch you, fill you.”

  “You’re still wearing a few scraps of clothes, so the party must not be fully underway yet.” Gary stood near the bathroom door, grinning and fondling the knot that held the towel at his waist.

  “Oh, no,” Lo said. “We’re still in the party warm-up phase where we make small talk and compliment each other about our attire.”

  “You mean what little attire you have left,” he said. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

  Lo’s shirt read ¡Dominicana! in silver foil lettering.

  “I like to consider the shirt a warning sign for stupid people, you know?” She wrapped a leg around Dean’s neck and rubbed his back with her other heel. “I like to let them think all the stereotypes about Latina women are true, and that way, the only ones who approach me are the ones who just want to tell me how pretty I am before they scamper away.”

  She gave him a grin that showed every possible tooth.

  “Is that what you did, Dean?” Gary asked. “Did you tell her she was pretty and then scamper away?”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah, there might have been some scampering. I don’t know if the first thing I said to her was all that intelligible, though. I’m not even sure I used rea
l words.”

  “You used words, baby.”

  “I did?”

  “Mm-hmm. Told me I smelled like a piña colada.”

  Dean rolled his eyes and hid his face against her thigh. “No I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, you did. And I asked you if you wanted to drink me before telling you to peel more potatoes. You turned so red.” She giggled and ran a hand through his hair. “It was cute. I wanted to take you home and cuddle you to death.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever wanted to cuddle me to death,” Gary said.

  “Probably because of that mouth of yours. Come here.” Dean straightened up and waved him over.

  When Gary was close enough to grab, Dean tugged at the knot of the towel and let the drape fall to the floor. “Party has a dress code.”

  Gary folded his arms over his chest and cocked a hip. “I see. And obviously, the bouncer was falling down on the job, because the policy has been unequally applied.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Shutting up now.”

  Dean pulled him forward and sat him beside Lo, who gave him a speculative look.

  “What?” Gary asked.

  “So you’ve grown up and can take care of yourself now, huh?”

  Gary scoffed and let his gaze rake down Lo’s body. “I wouldn’t say that. I still need plenty of help.”

  “Dean says I’m not allowed to take care of myself anymore. I have to wait until he gets home.”

  Gary gave his head a slow shake. “Poor Lo. But think of it this way—no more awkward middle-of-the-night battery purchases.”

  Lo narrowed her eyes. “I’m a lusty girl. I’ve got needs.”

  “And the last time I checked, you also had a husband willing to fulfill them.” Gary grazed his fingertips up her arm, stopping at the sleeve of her T-shirt. “And also at least one willing volunteer.”

  “I don’t think you could handle me, Morstad.”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “You haven’t earned the stripes to be taking on that challenge yet.”

  “Oh? Then what do I need to do?”

  “To start, you can get on your knees and start worshiping the temple of Lo with your tongue. When you’ve made a sufficient offering, I’ll let you know.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Great. So stop talking and start licking.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lo had never before had a so-called “pro” attending to her pussy, but she could certainly see the perks to the arrangement. Gary’s powerful tongue had her very near uttering a few blasphemous phrases herself.

  Every time she tried to squirm away to catch her breath or just to push back her body’s demand that she come, Dean held her still. His hands seemed to be everywhere—on her hips, over her mouth when her shrieks became too loud, and down at either side of her lower lips, holding her apart so Gary’s tongue could probe her deeper, harder.

  Gary thrust fingers inside her channel and pulled her clit into his mouth forcefully, and she gave up any pretense that he couldn’t handle her, or anyone else for that matter. The man was unceasing, insatiable, and she was whimpering like a cold, wet cat.

  “Want more?” Dean whispered.

  “More what?” she asked on a whimper.

  He may as well have been asking if she wanted a higher dose of Phenobarbital. If she hadn’t known it was impossible, she would have sworn her body was coming apart at the seams, and her very next stop wouldn’t be the airport to go home, but the morgue. Human beings needed to breathe. She was having a hard time with that.

  Dean released his hold on her hips and withdrew from the bed. A moment later, he was rooting through his suitcase, and Gary was tossing off what was left of her panties into the trash. At some point, they’d gotten ripped, and Lo couldn’t bring herself to care. Whatever she’d paid had been worth it to make her men act like that.

  “Here.” Dean held up a condom packet and gestured for Gary to stand.

  “Does this mean I’ve earned my stripes?” Gary asked, smirking.

  Lo opened her mouth to rebut, but then Dean’s hand was over it and he was telling her to shush.

  “I thought you wanted to be fucked,” he whispered.

  She pried a couple of his fingers apart and said through them, “Who’s putting what where? If you’re pillaging any unexplored orifices, I might need a pep talk.”

  “Nothing unexplored.” He gave her pussy a little swat and backed away, ripping the condom packet open as he went. “At least not on you.”

  Gary’s smirk fell away, and in its place came a grimace.

  Lo hadn’t laughed so hard since the bratty neighborhood kid who’d been flattening her new rose bushes with his football fell into the Yeats’s waterlogged ditch during his hasty retreat.

  “Well, well. Look who’s worried about not being able to handle it.” Lo clucked her tongue.

  “Have you seen his cock?” Gary mumbled.

  “Often.”

  “Then you should be able to guess why I’m worried. I haven’t been with a guy since the last Spider Man reboot.”

  “Also, he knows I have no idea what I’m doing,” Dean said.

  “Well, this should be interesting,” Lo said.

  “Yep.”

  Gary took the condom from him. “Maybe I’ll just hold onto that until after you’ve…” He grimaced again. “Gotten in. I don’t think we’re going to be as coordinated as you hope. We might have to do this in phases. I’ve never fucked anyone while I’ve had someone fucking me.”

  “You sound afraid, Gary,” Lo said.

  Gary scoffed. “Last few guys I was with had a fondness for performance enhancers and, suffice it to say, they weren’t stacking up in all parts of their anatomy. With a couple of them, I could have slept through the ordeals.”

  “So why’d you agree in the first place?”

  He shrugged. “They gave good head, usually right after pounding my ass cheeks black and blue.”

  “I’ll try not to turn you any colors you’re not supposed to be,” Dean said. He turned Gary around and pushed him face-first onto the bed.

  Lo rubbed her hands together and grinned in her dastardly way.

  Oh, boy.

  “Now, how should I do this?” Dean asked, pressing his hands to Gary cheeks and giving them what looked to be punishing squeezes.

  Sighing, Gary turned his head toward Dean. “A lot of lube, and then go really slow. If you’re in a charitable mood, you could try stretching me first, but whatever. If you somehow manage to find my prostate, I’ll forgive you for ill preparation. I’m perverse that way.”

  Dean pressed his hands to either side of Gary’s hips and looked up at Lo.

  She shook her head. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just a witness. The studio audience.”

  “Nah. Everyone here participates.” He crawled onto the bed, grabbed Lo by the ankles, and tugged her down.

  “Hey!”

  “Stay there.”

  “Okay,” she said, more than a little curious.

  Returning to Gary, he took the condom from him, unrolled it onto Gary’s turgid cock, and gestured to the bed. “Try not to come. I know from experience that lasting is difficult once she starts clenching.”

  Gary’s swallow was audible, but in spite of his dazed state, he didn’t hesitate for long. He crawled between her legs, wrapped them around his waist, and smiled down at her. “Bet you didn’t picture yourself here a week ago.”

  “Staring down at that pretty cock of yours? Nah. Can’t say that I did. Not a bad place to be, though.”

  “Do I get to kiss her?” Gary asked Dean.

  Dean, who was rooting through his suitcase again, paused then said, “Ask her. Her lips. Her body.”

  Smart man.

  “Can I kiss you?” Gary asked. The troublemaking smile he usually wore had devolved into a shy, boyish grin she would have never thought he was capable of. It was charming. Endearing, even, and it made her want to wrap her arms aroun
d him and hold him against her chest forever.

  “Yeah, you’d better kiss me, I think.”

  “I’m not used to kissing.” He skimmed his lips gently over hers and took a long, deep breath. “Most people don’t want to kiss me.”

  “That’s a shame. You should always be with someone who wants to kiss you.”

  “He’s a good kisser,” Dean said.

  “Yeah?”

  Dean stood, bobbing his eyebrows and tossing a tube of lube from one hand to the other. “Not that I’m the most knowledgeable authority, but he avoided my teeth and didn’t drool too much. That’s always nice.”

  “Oh.” Lo laced her fingers through the back of Gary’s hair and guided him down to her lips. “I’ll be glad to provide a second opinion.”

  There was always something so stimulating about kissing a man who’d kissed her down below first—it was pleasure-sharing at its most carnal. A full circle, of sorts.

  And he was a good kisser. He knew where to put his tongue and when to take it away. When she got too eager, he withdrew, controlling the pace through withholding, keeping her in line by not giving her what she craved. She always wanted more. He pulled away with a gasp, and Lo turned her head to find Dean at the bedside, his hand sliding down Gary’s back.

  Gary’s eyes opened wider and wider, and Lo decided to take matters into her own hands before the man went catatonic.

  “To be such a bottom, you really are a punk,” she whispered.

  She pulled him down inside of her and giggled at his quiet whimper.

  “Not going to go soft on me, are you?”

  “I’m not a bottom,” he muttered into her hair.

  “You’re so a bottom, and by this time next week, you’ll be admitting you are to everyone. There’s nothing wrong with receiving, you know.”

  “I’m a jock. There’s a reputation I’m supposed to hold up. Manly. Macho.”

  Lo wrapped her legs around his back and got him moving. “Okay, macho man. Do some work.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Maybe that’ll distract me from—oh, fuck.”

  He pushed up onto his hands and, eyes closed, let out a ragged breath.

  “Am I doing this wrong?” Dean asked with what seemed to be faux innocence. “Too many fingers? Need more lube?”