The Gin Rickey

by George, G. R. ; George, Renee;

  She hitched in a breath, touching the single word inked into the skin beneath her pierced belly button. “Courage.”

  Logan moved.

  A single stride that destroyed the distance between them.

  Stare locked on hers through the lenses of his glasses, he buried his hands in her hair, lowered his face to hers and took possession of her lips with his.

  Liquid shards of heat sank into Bethany’s core. She gasped into his mouth, the action granting his tongue access to hers. He took it, a savage kiss of dominating hunger and need.

  Bethany’s head swam. Fresh heat pooled in her belly. Oh God, she had not expected Logan to be like…this. Fuck, the sheer power in the kiss, the barely restrained desire of his tongue and lips was enough to propel her to the edge of sexual eruption already.

  A whimper escaped her, the sound captured by Logan’s mouth a second before he tore his lips free of hers. “Ask me again if I’m hungry?” he murmured, his breath ragged.

  Bethany licked her lips, not in a lame attempt at seduction. It was clear she didn’t need to resort to such measures now, not with Logan at least. His kiss had shaken her to the core, but she wanted more. Not just from him, but from…

  Breath puffing from her in shallow pants, she slid her stare from Logan to where Curtis stood motionless, watching them both.

  An inferno of lust and want burned in his blue eyes. His nostrils flared. His jaw bunched. “What about you, Curtis?” she asked, her voice a dry rasp.

  Logan balled his fists tighter in her hair. A low groan fell from him. She didn’t need to drag her stare from Curtis to know Logan still studied her. If it wasn’t for the fact he pressed his hips harder to hers and rubbed the solid pole of a very impressive erection against her belly, she would have worried her question to Curtis had disturbed him. Perhaps it did, but his body’s response spoke otherwise.

  Oh God, Bethany, what are you doing? What if they…

  “You’re hungry, aren’t you, Curtis,” Logan stated, his breath hot on her cheek.

  Curtis regarded her. The muscle in his jaw clenched again. “I’m hungry,” he agreed. His Adam’s apple slid up and down the strong column of his throat. “But are you sure you want to share, mate?”

  The low laugh that rumbled in Logan’s chest turned the apprehensive nerves in Bethany’s belly into an urgent need, a ravenous want. She’d never heard such a confidently aroused sound. Ever.

  She slid her stare up to Logan’s face, her breath catching at the open desire in his eyes. “Are you?” she asked.

  What if he said no? She wanted both men. She truly did, but Logan…

  A ripple of something elemental stole through her. Curtis was the sport-star fantasy almost every woman allowed herself to indulge in once in her life, but Logan…there was something about Logan that just set her on fire and made her truly feel alive.

  God, what if he said no? What if he walked away, leaving just her and Curtis? That’s not what she wanted. She wanted Logan.

  Logan. Full stop. Period.

  She met his stare, needing him to see that want.

  He gazed into her eyes, as if seeking an answer to a question she couldn’t bring herself to ask yet.

  “Are you?” she repeated, throat tight, heart fast. So fast. And hard and pounding.

  With a slow curling of his lips, Logan nodded. “I am.”

  His answer—loud and clear—detonated fresh waves of heat in her core. Her pussy contracted.

  “Fuck,” Curtis ground out, the response somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

  Logan answered with his own laugh, shooting a look over his shoulder at his friend even as he drew Bethany closer to his body. “Didn’t expect that?”

  “No.”

  The undeniable shock in Curtis’s voice sent a flutter of fresh nerves though her. She arched an eyebrow at him, throbbing with an urgent arousal. “But now it’s happened?”

  Curtis’s lips twitched. “You know one of the things I was famous for when I was still the captain of the Australian cricket team?”

  Bethany shook her head, the raw desire in his eyes flaying at her sanity.

  His nostrils flared. “I never ever drop the ball.”

  And with that, he strode to where she stood in Logan’s arms and crushed her lips with his.

  She melted into the kiss, its passion as fierce as Logan’s previous one. As dominating and demanding. His tongue captured hers, coaxing it into his mouth, taking possession.

  She groaned, rolling her hips to grind her belly against the rigid length of Logan’s trapped erection. A warm breeze played over her ass and thighs, reminding her she was outside naked. The thrill of the moment tightened the heady pressure in her sex. The wanton response intensified when Curtis skimmed his hands over her hips as Logan’s lips seared a path down the column of her neck and across the line of her shoulder.

  Oh God, two men were kissing her.

  Two men.

  Two incredible, perfect men.

  She tangled the fingers of her right hand in Logan’s hair, raking the fingers of her left across the breadth of Curtis’s back. Her whole body thrummed, on fire with mounting pleasure stoked to a feverish pitch by the hands and lips of the two Australians.

  This. This was what she craved. A sexual passion she had no control over. From the moment she’d seen them both, from the first conversation with them in Curtis’s pub, when Curtis had made her laugh with his sardonic dry wit and Logan had made her tremble with his unfathomable intelligence, she’d wanted to surrender her pleasure and body to their touch.

  With a groan, Curtis dragged his mouth from hers and scored a line of nipping bites down to the curve of her shoulder even as he found one of her breasts with a firm hand. He pinched her nipple, the action eliciting a swift gasp from her. “Oh yeah.” She rolled her hips again, grinding her belly to Logan’s engorged length. The course denim of his jeans scraped her skin, a friction both sublime and frustrating.

  Curtis kneaded her breast again, moving behind her as he did so to press the hard planes of his body to her back, her butt. He journeyed her throat with his lips, mirroring Logan’s kisses with uncanny timing.

  She closed her eyes, undone by the pleasure of being sandwiched between them. Naked and exposed and aching for everything they were going to do to her.

  And then Logan’s lips weren’t on her throat but sealing around her nipple, suckling on the beaded tip as Curtis held her breast. Feasting on her flesh as his friend offered it to him.

  The perfection of the moment tore a whimper from her. Her pussy contracted. It wasn’t just that Logan and Curtis were giving her pleasure and taking their pleasure from her, it was that they were doing it together. Together.

  As if aware of her feverish thoughts, Curtis pushed his hips forward, driving his erection harder to the crevice of her ass cheeks. At her breast, Logan moaned. He sucked her nipple harder for an exquisitely agonizing moment and then straightened to his full height, his breath ragged as he rubbed his thick cock to her lower belly. “I suggest we move this inside.”

  “Not ready for the world to see your skinny naked arse, Logan?” Curtis chuckled at Bethany’s ear, his teasing fingers taking the place of Logan’s mouth on her nipple.

  “You could say that,” Logan answered, gazing down into Bethany’s eyes.

  Her heart missed a beat at the blazing hunger in his stare. Hunger, and something else. Something far more profound and powerful.

  Don’t get your hopes up, Bethany. Just go with the moment and—

  “Let’s go then.” Curtis laughed, snaring her wrist and pulling her from the balcony.

  She went willingly, grinning at Logan as he strode along behind them. He ducked his head, pushing his glasses higher on his nose with his index finger in an utterly endearing way.

  The unconscious move reminded Bethany all over again how uncertain he could be. It was a puzzling juxtaposition. A confident lover—there was no doubt that’s exactly what he was going to be—and
a man with crippling self-confidence.

  For a surreal moment, she wondered how two opposite men had found each other. How had the ex-captain of the Australian cricket team, a man who’d confessed to her only a week ago he still had no clue how to set up his DVR to record a weekly program, come to be friends with the biggest thing to happen to the computer world since Bill Gates and Steve Jobs had shook hands in Silicon Valley? Not just friends, but damn near brothers?

  The unexpected question stroked at Bethany’s mind as her stilettoes crossed the balcony’s threshold…a second before Curtis tugged her into a sweeping arc around his body to deposit her—ass first—on the sofa.

  “Smooth,” Logan’s voice tickled her senses.

  “Thanks,” Curtis answered, laughter in his voice.

  She looked up at them both, her tummy clenching with barely contained excitement.

  The two men regarded her, one from behind spotless glasses, one wearing a relaxed grin.

  Two opposite men who made her wetter than she’d ever been.

  Who had somehow, just by being themselves, torn down her normal detached indifference to emotions. One on a sexual level. One on a level so much more significant.

  And now those two men were about to make love to her.

  Curtis hadn’t become the captain of the country’s cricket team by holding back. Risk was everything in professional sport. As was confidence, arrogance and attitude. He took charge of situations. He led.

  But tonight, Curtis willingly accepted he wasn’t in charge. And he couldn’t be happier.

  Shooting Logan a sideways glance, his chest tightened at the expression on his best mate’s face. It was the expression of a man without doubt or fear. The expression of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was going to claim it as his.

  “Logan?” Curtis murmured, wanting Logan to know Curtis was deferring to him.

  Without taking his gaze from the naked American waiting for them on the sofa, Logan removed his glasses. He handed them to Curtis. There were no words, just an assumption Curtis would take them.

  He did. Willingly and gladly. Elation threaded through the raw sexual pleasure heating his body. Christ, seeing Logan like this…it was fucking awesome.

  “Your move, mate,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

  On the sofa, Bethany wriggled. Her gaze held Logan’s, delighted impatience dancing in her eyes.

  The sight of her utter intoxication with his best friend sent a shard of liquid heat into Curtis’s groin. He wasn’t a religious man, hell, he wasn’t even a spiritual man, but he couldn’t help but send up a word of thanks to whatever higher power had arranged for Bethany to walk into his pub when Logan had been there.

  “Walk around to the back of the sofa, Curtis.”

  At Logan’s low commend, Curtis nodded. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bethany press her thighs together, her hand disappearing between them at their junction.

  Placing Logan’s glasses on the coffee table, Curtis moved to the back of the sofa, standing directly behind Bethany and watching Logan watch her.

  “Smooth your hands over her breasts.”

  A low moan slipped from Bethany at Logan’s instruction. Curtis looked down at her just in time to see her arch her spine, thrusting her breasts forward. An offering he gladly accepted.

  With his thighs pressed to the back of her head, he slowly inched his palms down her neck and over her collarbone to cover her small, perky breasts. “Fuck, they feel so good in my hands,” he exclaimed, rubbing the centre of his hands against her erect nipples in a tiny circular motion.

  From the sofa, Bethany moaned again. “I like that.”

  “Don’t stop,” Logan ordered. Curtis didn’t miss the tented bulge in his friend’s jeans.

  Without taking his stare from Bethany, Logan untagged the hem of his shirt from his waistband.

  “Oh, yes, Logan,” Bethany proclaimed, arching harder into Curtis’s teasing hands. “I can’t wait for you to take your shirt off.”

  Curtis saw a flicker of something hesitant in Logan’s eyes. The old fear. The old self-doubt. He knew Logan ran daily on his treadmill. He also knew his friend considered himself a wimp despite the latent strength of his wiry muscles. That his mind—so unfathomably intelligent—could be so clueless on something like this made Curtis want to laugh. And growl with exasperation.

  “She means she thinks you’re fucking hot, Logan,” he said with a chuckle, his own muscles coiled tight with growing urgency. The stabbing contact of Bethany’s nipples against his palms was rapidly depleting the flow of blood to his brain and sending it south.

  “It means I think you’re fucking hot,” Bethany echoed, shifting on the cushion.

  Curtis lowered his gaze to her just in time to see her drag her finger against the folds of her pussy.

  He bit back a groan. Shit, if he didn’t get out of his clothes soon, he’d come in his fucking jeans.

  Swallowing the sizeable lump in his throat, he lifted his attention to Logan.

  The uncertainty had left his friend’s eyes, replaced once again by confident intent. His shirt however, still covered his body. “In that case—” Logan’s lips tugged into a small smile, “—let me show my appreciation for the compliment. Spread your legs wide, Bethany.”

  Hot anticipation bloomed in Curtis, even as a distant part of his mind raged against his friend’s shyness. He’d participated in more than one threesome before today. Cricket groupies would do anything for the men they lusted after, and when it came to the ultimate sexual experience, a threesome was bloody amazing. Two guys and a girl, two girls and just him…in his heady pro-cricket-playing days he’d tried all the combinations, including one drunken night when him and his vice-captain had gotten…closer…than they’d intended, but never had he imagined sharing a woman with his best mate. Until Bethany had entered their lives.

  Nor had he imagined how fucking hard it would make him.

  Jesus, he was about to erupt and all Logan had done was tell Bethany to part her thighs. What was he going to do when Logan—

  Without a word, Logan lowered to his knees, slid his hands up the inside of Bethany’s slim thighs and shoved her legs wider.

  “Oh God,” Bethany gasped.

  “Fuck,” Curtis groaned. His breath grew hot.

  “You have a beautiful pussy, Bethany,” Logan said, placing a long index finger on the lips of her sex. “Smooth and perfect.”

  Curtis lowered his stare to the object of Logan’s inspection, his cock throbbing at the sight of Bethany’s hairless pussy.

  On the sofa, Bethany moaned. She rolled her hips forward, her breasts heaving as Logan stroked his finger along the seam of her slit.

  “Is she wet, Logan?”

  Logan raised his head at Curtis’s rasped question to regard him with steady blue eyes. And yet, for a second, Curtis thought he glimpsed stunned shock.

  Oh my main man. Don’t doubt yourself. Not now. This is your moment, mate. Don’t let it—

  “I’m not sure.” Logan’s lips twisted into a tiny smile. “Let me check.”

  As Curtis watched, Logan lowered his head to Bethany exposed sex and laved his tongue over her flesh.

  “Yes,” Bethany cried, throwing back her head, eyes closed.

  Staring down at her face, Curtis kneaded her breasts with greater pressure, pinching each nipple as he did so. Pleasure and joy etched her features. She parted her lips and writhed on the sofa, shoving her hips forward as Logan lapped at the junction of her thighs again.

  “Yes,” she moaned, burying one hand into Logan’s hair as she reached up behind her to claw at Curtis’s arm.

  The frenzied contact seared through Curtis’s fraying control, sending hot pulses of urgent pressure into his cock. He moved his gaze back to the sight of Logan flicking his tongue over her pussy, his breath growing ragged and shallow.

  His cock turned to a rod of agonized need.

  “Oh God,” Bethany whimpered, dragging her nail
s over his forearm down to his wrist. She cupped Curtis’s hand, helping his fingers squeeze her breasts with brutal pressure. “Th-that feels so good. So…I knew…oh God.”

  She squirmed on the sofa, mauling her breast with Curtis’s hand as she wrapped her leg around Logan’s shoulder.

  Between her thighs, Logan continued to lap at her sex. Curtis watched, his cock pulsing thicker, straining to be free with every glimpse of his friend’s tongue scraping over Bethany’s flesh.

  He groaned, almost undone with the need to lower his fly and release his dick from its confines. Bethany’s head was right there, level with his groin. How incredible would it be to sink his length past her lips? To fuck her mouth while Logan fucked her with his tongue?

  And yet he held off. By sheer willpower and love for his best mate, he held off. Logan was in control. And that state of affairs turned the concentrated desire in Curtis’s body to a level beyond his experience or understanding. He didn’t want it any other way.

  He’d spent his life being the leader, the one to call the shots. But for Logan, he willingly relinquished that role.

  His cock swelled fatter at the thought. A choked groan fell from him.

  As if feeling his delirious ecstasy, Logan lifted his head from between Bethany’s thighs and studied him. “I think…” he said, his lips glistening with her juices, “you should suck her breasts, Curtis.”

  With a smirk, Curtis nodded at his best mate. “I think you’re right.”

  He bent over Bethany’s shoulder, pressed his knees to the back of the sofa and closed his lips around her left nipple.

  She bucked against the contact, her gasp high and wavery. “Oh yeah.” Her nails scraped at the back of his shoulder.

  He didn’t doubt she’d marked his flesh, even with the protection of his shirt. In glorious retaliation, he closed his teeth around her nipple.

  “Yes!” She clawed at him again, harder. Encouraging more.

  He gave it to her, biting once again on the beaded tip of her breast with greater force before sucking it deeply into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it.

  “Fuck.” She writhed on the sofa. “Fuck, this is incredible! This is—oh God!”