The Dirty Dozen: Alpha Edition

by Kay Maree

Okay, so men as alluring and overtly sexual as them could be pretty persuasive, but that really was no excuse for the way I’d so freely put my usual moral standards aside—even more so than for the closet incident.

  If someone had told me, even a few hours earlier, that I’d let one man give me face, while his friend finger-fucked me in public, I’d have told them they needed their head examined, yet here I was, doing all that, and contemplating more. Much more. I guess I needed to realign my moral compass to suit who I really was, not who I liked to think I was.

  “Don’t what? Don’t want us? We all know that’s not true. Don’t like what we’re doing? Another lie. Don’t want more? Your body’s telling a completely different story. Or is it that you don’t want to admit how much you’re enjoying this?” Boom! Wasn’t that the truth?

  “I don’t think we should be doing this here. Well, I don’t think we should be doing it anywhere, but especially not here. Someone could walk in any minute.”

  “That’s not going to happen. It’s all taken care of.”

  I angled my body slightly to get a better look at King as he spoke.

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean, I have this room, and the spa next door booked for as long as we need. It’s just the three of us.”

  “There’s a spa?”

  Of course there was. The place seemed to have everything an exceedingly rich playboy needed, all under one roof.

  “Yeah. Want to see?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KING

  I’d asked her because I could feel the uncertainty and regret about what had just gone down—figuratively, and literally—start to creep in. I didn’t want it to pervade her mind to the point where she pulled the plug on what we were doing, and what I sincerely hoped we were about to do. Neither Rome nor I were even close to being ready to call it quits. We were both sporting more wood than an enchanted forest.

  The thing was, I didn’t believe that Quincy was ready to put the brakes on either, not really, but I could feel that’s what she thought she ought to do. The whole two-guy thing was clearly a first for her, and no doubt we’d crossed all sorts of other imaginary lines she’d drawn for herself. Shit, she probably thought people shouldn’t or couldn’t do this. At least, not people like her.

  I watched as the indecision played out across her face, and I knew if I handled it wrong, she’d bolt, possibly never to return. I also knew that if Rome handled it, he was almost guaranteed to fuck it up. I shot him a look that said, “hang back.”

  Not normally one to do as he was told, implied or otherwise in any circumstance, the tiny, almost imperceptible, nod of agreement he gave me, told me just how much he wanted her—and us. If the situation had played out with any other woman, he would have said something, just to spite me for daring to try to control him.

  I pulled my focus back to Quincy, gripping her shoulders lightly, then turning her to face me, so that she was leaning against Rome’s chest again. They looked hot together, I had to admit. My dick twitched its agreement.

  I took one hand, and nudged her chin gently with the crook of my index finger.

  “Try not to overthink it. Let’s chill out with a few drinks by the pool and just go with the flow.”

  “I can’t, I don’t have my swimsuit.”

  “That’s the beauty of having the place to ourselves… no swimwear needed.”

  “I can’t…”

  “You’re doing it again.” I tapped her gently on the temple. “Thinking too much. It’s a simple dip in the pool among friends.” Friends with boners so hard their dicks are about to break, and who very desperately want to nail you. I kept that part to myself.

  “Well I’d hardly call us friends. I mean, we hardly know each other, and I’ve never done what we just did with my actual friends—male or female.”

  “Okay, so maybe we’re not friends yet, but let’s aim to be. Why don’t we call it an ice-breaker? We can even talk about the plan for tomorrow, at the studio.” I glanced briefly at Rome. He was looking at me as though I was a moron, his patience wearing thin. He was about to start rattling his cage any moment.

  Quincy hesitated briefly again, then a light seemed to come on in her eyes. I wasn’t sure why, or what had been the deciding factor, but I could tell we had her.

  “Okay. Shit. I mean I must be out of my fucking mind, but okay.”

  I flicked Rome a look I hoped conveyed my thoughts. Namely, eat shit, bad boy.

  He flipped me off, and I smiled, turning my attention back to Quincy.

  “Great. Let’s go. No time like the present, as they say.” In reality, I figured that if we hustled, it would remove room for further doubt, and make it less likely that she’d do a one-eighty on us, and change her mind about skinny dipping.

  ***

  Quincy emerged from the change room swathed in a large white bath sheet, just in time to see Rome dive into the deep end of the pool. Physically he was ridiculous—rudely and effortlessly athletic—just like his ballet-dancer brother. I wasn’t too shabby either, but nor did I survive on a diet that was nine parts vodka and fried food, and with minimal exercise, like they both did.

  They were honestly like some kind of meta-humans. Like all that would be left after the nuclear apocalypse would be cockroaches, chicken in a can, and those two, emerging from the smoldering rubble that was all that remained of human civilization, completely unscathed in pristine tight white pants.

  I smiled to myself at the stupidity of my thoughts, and turned my attention back to Quincy. The fact was, she was meta in her beauty. There was something about the way she looked that was other-worldly—the large, wide-set eyes, her velvety, rich brown skin, the generous curve of her full lips, the way she went almost cross-eyed when she was deep in thought. So goofy, yet so fucking hot at the same time. My dick bobbed in recollection.

  “You’re overdressed.” I motioned toward her towel with my chin. “Come join me in here. We can have that business meeting.”

  She looked uncertainly over to the pool, where Rome was thrashing out laps.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’ll join us when he’s ready. Despite initial impressions, he’s not much of a talker—he’s way more a man of action. He also hates meetings, which I’m sure was obvious from that train wreck at the label.”

  “Hmm… it was,” she nodded thoughtfully. “But, this isn’t exactly a meeting, is it? Given it’s being conducted naked in the hot tub.”

  “Correction. You’re neither naked nor in the tub. That would just be me, at this point in time. Anyway, I don’t think the location or attire determine whether it’s a meeting or not. Don’t make me come out there and carry you in. Come, let’s talk.” I splashed handfuls of water her way, marveling that the sound of her squeals made my dick even harder.

  Moments later, she’d dropped her towel, and was making her way toward the tub. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her—everything about her was mesmerizing. Even more so when she was naked, fully revealing the curves I’d already glimpsed beneath her clothes, her shapely legs, and amazing tits.

  Her movements were smooth and fluid, languid even, as she lowered herself to the edge of the tub, then slipped in.

  “Hmmm, it’s hot. Just how I like it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ROME

  “Me too.”

  She startled, clearly she was both unaware that I was behind her, and a little jumpy. Apprehension over what we were about to do, I guessed.

  “Don’t be nervous. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing much. We were about to talk about the session tomorrow, get a plan in place for how it’s going to pan out. Sit down, and stop waving that thing around like a weapon of mass distraction.” King jutted his chin toward my straining dick.

  On the face of it, the comment was meant as a joke, but I knew him well enough not to miss the tinge of irritation in his voice. What the fuck was with him? I made a mental note to question h
im about it later.

  Right now, I had bigger fish to fry. Namely, one dick-throbbingly sexy violinist.

  “Jesus. How much of a plan do we need? We write some fucking songs. That’s all. It’s hardly rocket science. All this talking about it beforehand will kill the creative vibe for sure. Whatever happened to spontaneity? To knocking back a few vodkas, picking up the violin or cello, or sitting down at the piano and seeing what flows?”

  “Well, firstly, I start with the lyrics, not the melody. Secondly, I like to have a clear mind and my wits about me when I work. I don’t drink and write.” Her tone was clipped. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I’m not surprised to hear that somebody as uptight as you can’t let go for one damned minute, and lose control a little, just to see what happens.”

  “And I’m not surprised that an irresponsible loose cannon, like you would look down your nose at someone who acts like a professional adult instead of an overgrown child.”

  “Whatever. When you’ve pulled the stick from your ass, maybe we can talk.”

  “Actually. No. We can’t. This is some kind of bullshit, and quite clearly it’s not going to work. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, in fact. Those morons at the labels are out of their fucking minds if they think this whole thing is going to end up any way other than in court. And you know what? I’d rather take my chances being sued than get myself any further into this bullshit. It’s already gone too far. Excuse me.”

  She stood up quickly, probably not realizing that doing so would put her as close to me as it did. Christ. She was crazy fuckable at any time, but all fired up like that, and slick with water from the spa, I couldn’t have conjured up a hotter fantasy if I’d tried.

  As her wet body grazed mine, a wildfire blazed through me, and judging by the way she shuddered at the contact, the same was true for her. She might not have liked me, but she still wanted me. That much was more than obvious.

  The other thing she probably hadn’t accounted for, was the fact that I was blocking her exit from the hot tub.

  “I said excuse me. Please.” She looked over my right ear, clearly keen to avoid eye contact.

  “Where are you going in such a hurry, all of a sudden?”

  “Home. Like I should have done hours ago. Speaking of spontaneity, losing control, and all that other irresponsible shit, I don’t know what I was fucking thinking before, but I’ve come to my senses now, and I’m done.”

  “Well I’m not.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that we have unfinished business. I say you stay, and we fix it,

  like adults...” I loved throwing her words back at her, knowing how much it would piss her off. “...instead of running away like a child.” As predicted, her face was a picture of fury.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Yeah, that was the plan.”

  “Jesus. Will you stop being an asshole, and move out of the fucking way, before—”

  “Before what?”

  “Nothing. Just move.”

  “Nope.”

  “You can’t hold me here against my will.”

  “I’m not holding you. In fact, I’m not touching you at all.” Apart from the way the tip of my dick keeps grazing against you as we speak. “If you wanted to go, you’d be gone by now.”

  I honestly don’t know who kissed who. I just know that we were facing off one minute, and the next, it was on. So. On. Anger made her fierce, and her ferocity made me horny to the point of insanity. I pulled at her, desperate to increase the friction between us. She obliged by thrusting her hips slowly, rotating hard into me.

  As she bit down on my lip, I slipped my hand to the base of her throat, squeezing gently, and drawing her closer. As she gasped, I pushed my tongue into her mouth. She tasted so sweet, I could have kissed her forever, but King had other ideas. He’d stood up to join us, but now was beckoning Quincy back down into the hot tub.

  “Come here,” he coaxed gently, but I didn’t miss the undercurrent of urgency in his voice. He wanted her as badly as I did. More so, even.

  At the sound of King’s voice, Quincy dragged her lips from mine, and turned to offer them to him. He accepted, hungrily plunging his tongue into her mouth before lowering himself back onto the seat of the tub. Quincy went down with him, so I lowered myself into the water too.

  Once I was in the tub, Quincy scooted to her knees, and leaned forward to deepen the kiss with King. Her body was mostly out of the water, and the view of her ass had me squeezing the tip of my dick hard, trying not to come. When she pulled her lips from King’s to look over her shoulder at me with so much lust in her eyes, I thought she was going to set the building on fire, and I almost came there and then.

  I reared up on my knees, and nudged her entrance from behind with the tip of my dick. She was still looking over her shoulder at me with eyes that told me her body was mine for the taking, and when I pushed slowly into her, I wanted everything she had to give.

  King reached out to squeeze Quincy’s tits, and in return, she dropped one hand to his cock, jerking him off as she rode my dick hard. It was hot as sin, and as I thrust into her, I was torn between wanting it to last forever, and wanting to come more than I’d ever wanted to before.

  That desire won out, and we chased our climaxes like Olympic sprinters. We made it across the finish line in an epic three-way photo finish, and the single hottest sexual experience of my entire life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  QUINCY

  I can’t fucking do this. I can’t fucking do this. I can’t fucking do this.

  The words spun over and over in my mind as we sat in the cramped, airless studio, a deafening silence stretching between the three of us. If there was a more-awkward scenario on the planet, I couldn’t think of it.

  I could hardly even look Rome in the face. It was partly because every time I did, the fire in his dark brown eyes, and the way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole, would give me flashbacks of the previous day.

  I remembered how we’d screwed like I’d never been screwed before, and recalled how we’d come together, the three of us—Rome swelling inside me, owning me, with me clenching around his dick, and King emptying into my hand as I squeezed him tight.

  I recollected how I’d looked into King’s eyes and been shocked by the depth of emotion I saw there, but I’d been even more shocked by the fact that I’d felt a twinge of regret that it wasn’t Roman I was sharing that level of emotional intimacy with, as well as the overwhelming physical connection.

  “It shouldn’t be this hard. We’d normally have jammed a few songs by now. This is fucking bullshit.”

  “Finally something we agree on.” I rolled my eyes heavenward.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means this isn’t going to work. We’ve been here five hours, and it feels like five years. Five hundred years, in fact, and we have nothing to show for it. You guys have your shit that’s obviously been working for you forever, and I normally work alone. This whole writing together thing can’t just be engineered. It’s all about chemistry, and working organically. Trying to force it is just plain stupid.”

  “Exactly.” Rome nodded his agreement emphatically.

  “Which is why this was doomed from the get-go,” I continued my train of thought.

  “Ha! Are you both smoking crack, or something?” The look on King’s face as he spoke surprised me. From what I knew, he was normally the rational, even-tempered one of the two, but right now he looked like he was ready to rumble. In fact, they both did.

  “What’s your problem, man?” I’d noticed that Rome didn’t take kindly to being challenged by King. Or anyone, for that matter. This was no exception. He looked daggers at his friend as he spoke.

  “You mean apart from the fact that we’re sit
ting here wasting time talking about a lack of chemistry, when in fact, the opposite is the case? We’ve got more chemistry than you can shake a fucking stick at. Are the two of you just going to pretend that yesterday didn’t happen? Like it isn’t the colossal elephant in the room?” That was definitely the way I wanted to play it, but it seemed King had other ideas.

  “Yeah.” Again, Rome and I were oddly in agreement.

  “That was the plan,” I concurred.

  “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?”

  You could have cut the silence with a chainsaw. I looked down at the floor, suddenly fascinated by the parquetry, but I stole a subtle sidelong glance at Rome. He was peering back at King, his face an impenetrable mask.

  “A word. Outside. Now.” Rome’s voice was deliberate and measured, and so out of character that I found it more disturbing than if he’d exploded in a fit of annoyance. Weird.

  I couldn’t read the dynamic between the two of them, but clearly there was something bubbling close to the surface. It felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. They stepped out of the airless room, and I let go of the breath I’d been holding. I didn’t know how we were going to be able to progress from the impasse we were facing. The pressure was too much.

  As the guys argued in the hall, I couldn’t make out the specific words, but the rumble of Rome’s voice was like distant thunder carried to me on the wind.

  The thought fired an idea in my mind, and I grabbed my notebook to capture it before I lost the spark of inspiration.

  When the door to the studio banged open again, I wasn’t sure how long they’d been gone. I’d gotten so lost in the words and thoughts, that time had stood still, so much so, that when I looked back down at my pad, I was surprised to find that I had somehow jotted down enough lyrics to form a song. Reading them back quickly, I was even more surprised to find that they didn’t suck.

  King entered first, followed a few moments later by Rome. The look on Rome’s face as he strode across the room, letting the door bang noisily against the studio wall before slamming shut, shocked me to my core. If he’d been pissed before, he was positively murderous now.