I bent, tracing my tongue down the raised scores on his chest, pushing my ass into Vincent. He grunted as my ass pressed against his hard cock. Yeah, they weren’t doing this just out of the goodness of their heart. They wanted me too.
I was a shifter. I could scent lust a mile away. They might be telling themselves they were flushing a fox out of Reese’s perfect little cock house, but they wanted my body just as badly as I wanted theirs. Like my ass was magnetized, Vincent ran his hands up the back of my thighs and gripped my cheeks. He groaned, pressing his hips against me, his dick straining.
I looked up at Lincoln, who was staring down at me with clouded, whiskey-colored eyes filled with lust and suspicion. “Get on your knees,” he growled, and I grinned.
Yeah, you sexy jerk, I have you where I want you now.
Still, I dropped to my knees, looking up at him. My leopard wanted to submit, but instead I lifted my lip at him. Let him wonder if I’d suck his dick or chomp it in half. I always was one of those kids who smashed their lollipops with their back teeth.
To show that all men had no sense of self-preservation when there’s a blow job involved, Lincoln didn’t stop me from unbuttoning his chinos, slipping them over his perfect goddamn ass and down thighs that were pure muscle. Honestly, unwrapping him was going to make me spontaneously orgasm.
His underwear came next, and when the heavy fullness of his cock sprang free, I stifled a gasp. I didn’t want to inflate his already swollen ego. I hadn’t realized that Vincent had leaned forward until he was whispering in my ear. “Impressive, isn’t he? You want to taste that?”
Neither of the men in the room seemed to care that Vincent’s face was inches from Lincoln’s cock. I raised an eyebrow like I wasn’t desperate to bring the big man to his knees. Instead, I leaned forward so I could meet Vincent’s eyes as I dragged my tongue up Linc’s cock, from base to head, making both men groan.
Vincent straightened, shucking off his jeans. That’s all it took for him to be naked. He walked around shirtless with his jeans unbuttoned all the damn time, sans underwear. I’d been an inch from seeing his dick since I’d arrived. But I wasn’t complaining. He was an artwork, intricate tattoos lining every inch of his body. I looked over my shoulder. Including his dick.
He held the head towards me, like he was offering me a lollipop, and I happily sucked Vincent's dick in my mouth. He moaned, but Lincoln wasn’t having any of that.
He grabbed my head and pulled me back toward his own cock, like he was desperate to be buried somewhere inside of me. Putting him out of his misery, I slid him between my lips, pushing him further and further until he was deep in my throat. The full-bodied grunt was primal, and he pulled back slowly before sliding back into my mouth again. I kept the suction tight, letting him fuck my mouth until he was an unstable mess.
I was suddenly yanked from his cock, it slipping out of my mouth with a pop. Vincent dragged me to my feet, peeling my clothes off me with urgent hands. He continued to walk me backwards toward the couch, until he could collapse back onto the hard surface and pull me onto his lap, my back to his chest so I could see Lincoln stalk across the room after us.
When my heat slid across Vincent’s hard dick, his fingers became frantic, lining himself up until he was notched against the entry, and my eyes rolled back as he pushed inside. Damn. This angle. That dick.
Hands on my hips, he dragged me down until I was fully impaled, before sliding me back up and doing it all over again. I rested my hands on his knees, arching my back in a way that was entirely feline. Lincoln’s cock was back to nudging at my mouth, its tip weeping precum.
“You weren’t finished,” he growled and I raised an eyebrow at him.
I reached out, anchoring myself on his muscular hip as Vincent ground inside me like he was looking for the damn holy grail. “Don’t blame me, blame your boy… oh holy fuck,” I moaned, ruining my snarky comeback but Vincent’s hand had slid around to flick my clit as his cock seemed to find that goddamn holy grail spot inside me.
Lincoln’s eyes slipped from my face and over to watch his friend pound into my pussy, his hands clenched so hard on my hips they would’ve bruised if I wasn’t a shifter. I looked over my shoulder and grinned at Vincent.
“Harder,” I growled, and he smirked that goddamn panty-dropping smile back, slamming me up and down his cock like a fucking jackhammer.
Lincoln had apparently had enough watching, because he grabbed my cheeks. “Open,” he ordered, and I must have been riding a pheromone high because I did it without complaint. I sucked his cock into my mouth, letting him fuck my face in time with Vincent’s thrusts.
My eyes watered, and all you could hear around the room was our moans and the sound of slapping bodies grinding against each other in the search for pleasure. Vincent flicked my clit just right, and I came hard on his cock, screaming to a god I didn’t believe in.
As if summoned by my orgasm, Reese walked through the front door, his feet stilling as he took in the spectacle we must have made.
I pushed Lincoln away, my eyes darting to his just in time to see the pompous self-satisfied look in his eyes.
Instead of being outraged, which is what I assumed they thought would happen, Reese just threw down his briefcase and loosened his tie. “Good to see you’re all getting along better,” he said, teasing, but I didn’t miss the heat in his gaze.
I slid off Vincent’s still hard dick, smiling smugly up at Lincoln as his smirk shifted to a frown. “Just killing time until you got home, Buttercup.” I sauntered over to him, naked and unselfconscious. I kissed his cheek. “Come on, I’ve been dying to know what happens at the end of “The Witcher”, and I kept my promise not to watch it without you.”
I threw one last look over my shoulder at the guys, with half-deflated dicks and confused expressions. “Sorry guys, you’ll have to finish yourselves off. Henry Cavill waits for no woman.”
With a low chuckle, I ushered Reese from the living room and into Vince’s room. I pulled on a pair of soft pajama pants and one of Reese’s oversized t-shirts.
“Are you tormenting my friends, Celeste?” Reese asked, fiddling with the remotes as he took off his shoes, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth and I was glad the conversation from the other night hadn’t been just lip service.
I shrugged and climbed onto the bed, rubbing my hand on my stomach. “They deserved it.”
He shook his head and climbed onto the bed after me, pulling me onto his chest. “I bet they did. Just… go easy on them. Their hearts are in the right place.”
I wanted to tell Reese that their hearts weren't the appendage they were thinking with, but I resisted. Instead, I’d enjoy this moment with him and replay that beautiful moment when they realized their plan didn’t work over and over again.
Chapter Twelve
Vincent
I looked at my dick. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked him like he knew all the answers to life.
“She was fucking with us,” he answered back. Oh, no wait, that was Lincoln.
I snorted. “No shit, dickhead. She knew what we were doing all along. Crafty bitch.” Apparently I didn’t keep the awe out of my voice enough because Linc scowled at me.
“What the hell was with Reese’s reaction? He didn’t even seem… mad?”
Now it was my turn to frown. Did we want him to be mad with us? I wasn’t going to lie, I didn’t think this plan through, at least not much past the ‘Put Dick into Pretty Girl’ part. My heart gave a belated thump. Like when you wake up with a snake in your bed, and you realize you just cheated death. Happened once. Reese could have been mad, and not just at Star. He could have been mad at us too. “Linc, I think we fucked up.”
What had we achieved here? Apart from a wicked case of blue balls, she’d gotten the upper hand. And now I knew how she tasted. How she felt wrapped around my cock. The noise she made when she came all over me. Lincoln's cock in her mouth. How the hell was I ever going to forget any of those things?<
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Lincoln was staring down the hall, like he could see through the walls and into my room. “Yeah, I think you are right.”
I didn’t miss the fact his hand was absently on his dick as he said it. Yeah, Lincoln might hate what she represents, but he didn’t hate Star at all. He wanted her. That was almost worse for the girl in all honesty. Lincoln had a bad habit with relationships. He was too much. Too full on. Too attentive. Too panicky. I didn’t blame him. His history was fucked. But inevitably, whenever Lincoln set his sights on a woman, there was exactly two months before the girl ran away. Because he’s pretty, but he had more baggage than an airport carousel. So did we all, except Reese.
He was our rock. Our hearthstone. Without him? I shuddered. I didn’t want to think about what hole we’d be in without him. “We got lucky. If he wasn’t so, you know, Reese-like, he might never have forgiven us. This shit is dangerous, Linc. We are playing with fire and we will be nothing but ash if we keep trying to take her down.”
I didn’t know if Lincoln would listen. He liked order. He definitely didn’t like surprises. And Star? She was chaotic, just like me. I closed my eyes, and I saw her face, twisted in pleasure, those blue eyes staring down into mine. She spoke to my wildness and I was helpless to resist its call. My dick got hard again and I groaned. “I’m going to have a cold shower,” I grunted and stood from the couch. I strode toward the hall, ignoring the sounds of the television from my room. “Vincent?” he called after me, and I stopped, my dick still cupped in my hands like every single person in this house hadn’t seen me naked and hard.
Lincoln raked his hands down his face. “I’ll try. It's just hard, you know?”
I let go of my dick and pointed at it. Then it pointed back at me because it was that fucking rock hard again. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
A gruff laugh burst from Lincoln’s mouth and I grinned. “Not what I meant.”
I gave him an encouraging smile. Or it might have still been my trademark smirk. Sometimes, I had resting smirk face these days and didn’t know it. “I know what you meant, Linc. I think it's better this way. She might be something good. We just have to trust that Reese knows what he’s doing.” I took a few more steps. “Are you coming? I don’t want to waste a good hard on.”
He shook his head, but gathered our clothes and strode down the hallway after me.
A heavy thump at the door heralded Reese into Lincoln’s bedroom. Lincoln was awake and tense, partially clothed in boxers and sweats. I was still naked, but that didn’t seem to phase Reese. Like it never occurred to him to be embarrassed by our nudity. It definitely never occurred to him that our relationship was somehow wrong. It wasn’t that Reese was purposefully progressive, it just never seemed to cross his mind that our relationship was anything but natural. Which it fucking well was. I once headbutted a paparazzi for suggesting that my very well documented bisexuality was anything but normal.
That shit hurts, by the way.
Still, he shut the door behind him and his face was unnaturally solemn. “We should talk.”
Ah, shit. I knew this was coming. I sat up in bed and pulled the sheet over my dick. This definitely wasn’t going to be a dicks-out kind of convo.
He sat on the end of the bed, and gave us what I liked to call his ‘intervention face’. It was somewhere between love and exasperation. “I love you guys so much. You’re my family.”
Yep, he was definitely about to kick us to the curb. “And it's only because I love you guys that I wanted you to know that I’m totally okay if you and Celeste start something. I know she’s interested in you guys and obviously, if today was evidence of anything, you two want her as well.”
My mouth dropped open. I… what?
Lincoln huffed. “You don’t mean that. You just want her, and you are letting her walk all over you. That’s not right, Reese.”
For the first time in forever, Reese looked mad. It was like seeing Mickey Mouse covered in blood and holding a gun. The two things did not compute. “You don’t get to tell me what’s right, Lincoln. I’m not an idiot. If you think that I don’t know you orchestrated me walking in at the exact moment you had your dick in the mouth of the girl I like, then you have a shitty opinion of my intelligence. You should take this for what it is and shut your damn mouth before you make shit worse.”
Lincoln looked like Reese had just stood up and punched him in the face.
I reached out and gripped Reese’s wrist. “We deserve that, man. For what it's worth, I’m sorry.”
Reese sighed and finger-combed his hair, but it flopped right back down into his eyes. “It’s fine. Celeste… well she’s probably more than I can handle myself anyway. I’m not too proud to admit it. She likes you guys, and I’m thankful as hell for that. The thought of her being with any other men that aren’t you two, fills me with a rage that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt.” He turned back to Lincoln. “But I swear, if you fuck with her like that again, we are done. You aren’t that guy, Linc. Deep down there is chivalry buried inside you. The kind that saves drug addicted rockstars and lonely, socially awkward nerds.” He stood and slapped Lincoln’s knee. “Try getting to know her. And have a little faith in me, hey?”
He paused at the door. “Dinner will be here in a minute. I’d like it if we all ate together.”
With that, he shut the door behind him. I somehow felt chastised as hell, while hopeful for the future. I don’t know how he managed that.
“He’s going to be a good dad. I feel guilt-ridden as hell at his disappointment,” I muttered.
Lincoln ignored me as he watched the door like he was waiting for Reese to pop back through and say, “Just kidding. I fucking hate you, now get out of my house.”
I climbed out of the bed and walked around to stand in front of him. “We’ve been given a death row reprieve. Let’s not fuck it up.” I stepped back and twirled around so my dick flung out like a whirly-bird. “Now, do you think this dinner is clothing optional, or should I put on pants?”
Chapter Thirteen
Lincoln
Dinner last night had been… awkward. The sexual tension was intense, as was the hatred. Celeste somehow managed to look smug and pissed off at the same time. Vincent, in true Vincent fashion, had gone out, fallen to his knees, put his head in her lap, cooed out a, “Sorry, Star,” and then kissed her.
Much to my amusement, she’d kissed him back, then reared away and punched him in the mouth. His lip had split and he’d grinned through the blood. “Fair call, Star. Truce?”
She shook her head and smirked back, but just like that, they were good. Like he hadn’t had his dick in her hours earlier.
Me, however? She glared at me like I was scum.
So when I stumbled out into the kitchen this morning, another nightmare filled night chasing away anything resembling restfulness, and found her in the kitchen, I was tempted to turn around and go back to my room. Maybe climb back between the covers and try to sleep again. But I wasn’t a bitch. I didn’t run away at the first sign of confrontation. I’d spent the majority of my life looking for confrontation. So here we were.
I didn’t say anything as I stepped into the kitchen, and Celeste didn’t even slide her eyes toward me. Instead, she pretended like I didn’t exist. Whatever. Maybe it was better that way.
Except she was standing right in front of the mugs.
I reached across to the cabinet above her head. Rookie move. Quicker than I could follow, she turned and nailed me in the gut with a hard punch. The wind burst from my lungs and I doubled over, gasping.
“The next time you try to use sex against me, or against Reese who is supposed to be your best friend, I will gut you like the coward you are,” she hissed, and I looked up at her, my eyes blazing.
I growled, expecting to find the anger or even the smugness of last night. Instead, the sadness was back and that knocked what little air I’d dragged into my lungs back out again.
She grabbed my forearms and helped me straighten, an
d I jerked away from her. Fool me once. “Look. We got off on the wrong foot. I get it. You don’t trust me. Apparently you don’t trust Reese either. I get that as well. He’s too fucking good for this world.” She dragged in a deep, shuddering breath. “I need to trust you. Reese loves you, and you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon unless you decide to use your dick as a weapon again and Reese decides to kick your fuckboy ass to the curb.”
I snorted and held back the groan as I stood. I reached up to the cabinet to grab my mug, exposing my middle again. If that didn’t say trust, what the fuck did? “I’m not a fuckboy,” I grunted, filling my coffee cup. Without thinking about it too hard, I grabbed down a glass and filled it with milk.
I slid it toward her, not looking at her again. “Milk is good for pregnant women.”
She raised both eyebrows but took the glass, daintily taking a sip like she was checking if it was poisoned. “Thanks. I need to trust you, Lincoln. I need to trust you with this,” she rubbed her hand over her stomach, and I forced myself to follow the gesture. “You’re protective and part of me appreciates that. Reese will need you. I need to know that my baby is safe with you.”
I reared back like she’d slugged me in the stomach again. “I’d never, ever hurt a child.”
She shook her head. “There's more than one way to hurt a person, Lincoln. It isn’t only fists that hurt.”
Guilt washed over me. It wasn’t a sensation I was used to, because guilt was only for people who weren’t desperate. I’d spent so many years surviving, I sometimes wondered if I’d lost my ability to feel anything but apathy.
Today proved that I could because this sensation was more uncomfortable than the pain in my abs.
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. What I did was wrong.” My mouth felt weird even forming the words, like I was testing a foreign language. Apologies meant I’d done something wrong. Doing something wrong meant second guessing myself. There’d been no room in my life for that up until now. Until the safety of Reese and Vincent.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 158
