by Heather Long
“I’m okay,” she reminded me. Something she shouldn’t have to do.
“You’re better than okay,” I told her. “You’re fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, you are,” Coop added when she scrunched her nose. “No arguments. We’re right. You sit there and just accept that we are.”
That got a huff of laughter, and I pressed a kiss to her temple, fucking glad Coop was there and I hadn’t just dragged her into some fight she didn’t need to be in. Goddamn, I needed to put a muzzle on my temper.
“Erin wants me to journal some of the stuff that happened to me. Just…what I’m feeling or what I remember. Even what I think happened versus what I know.”
Why the fuck would she want her to write about it? But I bit back the question as Coop nodded. Okay, he got this part. Good. I eyed him.
“Is it helping?” was all he asked. Okay, I could use a little bit fucking more than that.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Sometimes, when I talk to her, it’s easy and it’s kind of fun. I told her about Thanksgiving.” Her smile made me smile.
Thanksgiving had been amazing. “That reminds me,” I murmured. “I do believe I owe you at least one orgasm or two.”
The flush moving up from her chest continued to delight me, but nowhere near as much as the way her ass tightened and clenched up. Oh yes, that woke my dick right the hell back up.
Coop chuckled. “I’m sure arrangements can be made.”
Damn straight they could be. “You in?”
The little catch in her breath and the way her lips parted as she dared a glance from me to him had me stroking her thigh gently. I wasn’t the only one, Coop was rubbing her calf. There were a lot of things I wanted from her and couldn’t wait to discover. Sharing her was just another fabulous item on the list.
But we weren’t rushing anything. I’d rather ease her into wanting it. Better, I wanted to ease her into asking us for what she wanted. The blowjob in the car had been amazing, even more when she’d seemed so damn delighted about it.
“That’s a stupid question,” Coop answered with a grin. “I’m always in and up for it.”
It took me a beat, but I wasn’t the only one groaning at him. Frankie poked his side as she grinned, then she glanced up at me. “Anyway,” she said, pulling us back to the topic at hand. “I don’t know if it’s helping. Some things are harder to talk about than others. The stuff I have a hard time with, she wants me to journal. See if I can work out the feelings there and then talk to her.”
She pursed her lips, then looked from me to Coop and then down at her laptop. When she flipped open the screen, I put a hand over her left one to hold it still for a moment. “Baby Girl, you don’t have to show us. I’m not that much of a dick. Really.”
“You’re not a dick,” she murmured, twisting and brushing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, and damned if that didn’t make me want more instantly. Ignoring my own dick for the moment, I focused on her. “You really aren’t. I get it. You guys are all protective. You more than some.”
“Hashtag fact,” Coop drawled, and she grinned at him. Sometimes it annoyed me that he always knew exactly what to say to her. That he could make her smile, even when tears flashed in her eyes. But that was the selfish prick in me. The majority of the time, I was damn glad for him. “But Jake’s job is to be the biggest, baddest one of them all.”
Another laugh escaped her. “Yeah, yeah. The point is…these are things I’ve had trouble talking to you guys about, too. So maybe I should let you read it. Maybe I can share it that way.”
“Frankie, do you want us to read it?” Coop asked her, and I threaded my fingers through hers.
“No,” she admitted with a bit of a wince. “Not really.”
In that case, I reached past her and closed the laptop again. “Then we won’t.” Coop nodded at my words. “When I’m being a nosy prick, just tell me to fuck off, okay?”
She snorted. “When was the last time you listened to me when you thought I was holding back?”
Not an unfair assessment. “We’ll work on that,” I promised. “You tell me not to be a prick, and if I get bossy, tell me I don’t get sex. That will shut me up.”
Coop’s eyebrows climbed, but Frankie half-twisted again and ground that gorgeous ass against my cock. Yep, definitely torture. “Bullshit.”
“True, but I will wait until after sex before I grill you again.” I grinned, and she rolled her eyes. But she also laughed, which had been the point. Speaking of distractions, I glanced at the clock on the DVD player. “You hungry, Baby Girl?”
“No,” she said, shifting as though she planned to get up. “I might be peckish later, but I had a sandwich when we got home.”
“Damn,” I murmured. “I’m starving.”
“What do you want?” Thank you, Baby Girl, for walking right into that. Coop just rolled his eyes as he grinned. But he also snagged her laptop as I scooped her up and stood.
“You,” I told her. “Coop can watch or you can blow him. Or he can wait his turn.” I didn’t much care which, but first, I was eating her out until she came a few times.
“You’re so gracious,” Coop said drily, but the little shit was right behind me and Frankie was laughing.
“I try,” I told him and settled her on the bed. Between us, we had her naked in under a minute, and I had her thighs over my shoulders as I looked up to where Coop was already stroking her breasts. Damn that was a sight. “You are all done with homework right, because I don’t plan on you leaving this bed for the rest of the night. Good? Good.” I didn’t wait for her answer, just buried my face where I wanted to be.
It took me under five to have her back bowed and hips arching as she came.
That was one.
Chapter Fourteen
GNO
Frankie
“So, when are you going to tell me which one is the best in bed?” Rachel asked in that oh so blunt manner, eyebrows waggling. “Inquiring minds are dying to know.”
I didn’t slow down taking a bite of the Monte Cristo and just flipped her the bird. My session with Erin had been late today. I’d have had all of ten minutes in my last class, so I just texted the guys that Rachel and I were going to have some girl time and I’d see them at home. Three sessions in one week was not a good idea. Even if we hadn’t had one the week before.
My eyes were sore from the crying, and my nose was shiny. Thankfully, blunt-as-fuck across from me hadn’t made a single comment, other than to hand me a wet wipe to clean up with and some tissue. When I mentioned going to do something distracting, she went straight here. The little bistro in the strip mall made the best sandwiches, and they had one of my favorites.
Ensconced in a booth, I dug right in and loved every powdered sugar and melted swiss chess with turkey and ham minute of it. Rachel studied me, and I could almost see the wheels ticking behind her eyes.
“Can I guess?” The spark of laughter in her eyes softened the teasing comment.
“Does it require using knowledge gleaned from gossip from aforementioned bed partners?” I was rather proud of how I phrased that.
Rachel considered it a moment, then wrinkled her nose. “Fine. I’ll shut up. But I do reserve the right to bring it up again. You can tell me one thing though.”
“What’s that?” I snagged my drink.
“Did Archie take my tongue advice, and do any of the others need it?” Apparently, our girl’s night was going to double as embarrass the fuck out of me.
“I’ll tell you,” I began, enjoying her sudden grin, “if you tell me what Skylar thinks of your technique and does she reciprocate?”
Yep, that was me, fighting fire with fire.
Smile dimming a fraction, Rachel sighed. “Skylar and I broke up.”
I was officially an ass. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “No biggie. She’s still gorgeous and that ass, but… Alas, it is what it is. I’m not ready for anything long-term anyway.” Though she made light of it, t
he look in her eyes went a little too far away.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Not want. Need. Something Erin had brought up like four times now. I listened. No one ever wanted to talk about their problems. Wanted implied some kind of desire. Need, however, was an entirely different kind of beast. I needed to talk about mine. I’d needed to for a long, long time.
Course every time we scraped crap off the top, it was like a pressure cooker, it freed it up for more to bubble to the surface. I shoved all that away for a moment. This wasn’t about me. It was about Rach. I reached over and put my hand on hers.
“You don’t have to,” I said, squeezing her fingers, and though hers had been icy at first, she turned her hand over and grasped mine. “But, you always listen to me, so the same goes for you. Whenever, however, you want.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “However?”
“You’re about to be dirty, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “A little bit.” But she squeezed my fingers again before letting go with a sigh. “And there’s nothing really to talk about. Skylar and I were having fun. Then we weren’t. It’s no biggie. I got orgasms out of it, and she was fun. Now she’s doing her thing and I’m doing mine.”
That seemed just a bit too glib. “I’m sorry. I liked her.”
“Me, too,” she murmured, before taking a bite. We were quiet, maybe too quiet. That, or she waited for me to take a drink on purpose. “Course if you really want to make me feel better, you can tell me which one fucks the best. It’s Coop, right? He seems like the type to make sure you come a lot before he gets off.”
I swear, I could taste the damn bubbles in my lungs for how much soda just came out my nose.
Absolutely unrepentant, the bitch laughed at me.
“I always thought Archie would be a greedy fuck, he seems the type. Jake’s probably intense as hell, but he’s got stamina.” At my dour look, she grinned. “What? I’ve seen him play football. I guess the big question is Bubba.” There was just the hint of a wicked gleam in her eyes.
I groaned, and she let out a delighted cackle.
“Yes, I knew it. When?”
“Do we have to do this now?” I mumbled around the sandwich, hurrying into another bite to not have to talk about this. Admittedly, I didn’t mind Rachel knowing, but I could live without sharing the salient details in the middle of a bistro that was half-packed with people snagging food before going shopping or grabbing something to eat mid-shopping. Weekends were gonna suck at most places while the countdown to Christmas was on.
“Well, no,” she intoned with a little sigh. “But it would make me feel better.”
“I hate you,” I told her with absolutely no heat, and she reached over to boop my nose lightly.
“No you don’t, I’m your favorite. Spill. At least tell me when and where. After the shit that went down at Halloween and everything the last few weeks, I knew you and Bubba were going to get there. You’ve been more than a little sappy about him, and all the hurt in your eyes when you look at him is gone.”
That sobered me a little. “We talked.” I’d told her a little about that. But not any real details. “Halloween, you know, before the guys tried to jump us.” Well, technically, they did jump us, but whatever. “He was really honest, and we talked and…he told me he wasn’t going to make decisions for me anymore or assume. And he really wanted another chance.” I picked up one of the fries and gave her a small smile. “So far so good.”
She studied me, the intensity in her gaze promising she was trying to use x-ray vision to see straight into my brain. “You’re happy?”
I thought about Thanksgiving. The weekend after it. The whole of this last week. I’d gotten alone time with all of them…and some time with all of them. I didn’t think too closely about Jake and Coop right now, because then I’d be on fire. They were both pushing in this slow, subtle way. Okay, maybe not so subtle. I wasn’t blind. The point was, they both seemed to enjoy watching me get off with the other, and when they worked together…
Well, my body started humming just at the thought. So far, the most we’d done was me kissing the other one and some light petting while I was actively getting fucked or…well, fucking the other one.
A ripple of hot cold raced over my scalp and that was enough of that.
“I’d pay money to know what you were just thinking about,” Rachel said. “It was dick, right? All the dick? Did you have to be into dick? Couldn’t you like just a little vag in your life? Like one vag?”
I groaned. “I’m sorry. If I did, it would totally be you.”
She mock sighed, a long and forlorn note. “I know. But once you go vag, you’d never go back and those boys would be so jealous.”
Snorting, I grinned at her. “I’m happy, Rach.”
“Good,” she said with a decisive nod. “That’s how it should be. So, you and Bubba…?”
Eyes rolling, I shook my head. “Fine, but only because I feel bad for you.”
“Hey, I take pity.” Her smirk was a little too sharp, but I got it. “So, spill. When? Where? How many?”
I snorted at the last question. “Thanksgiving,” I admitted. “His house. His room.”
Sipping her drink, Rachel mimed wide eyes at me and motioned me to go on.
“And that’s all I’m saying,” I informed her sternly. “Except…” I paused, replaying aspects of that evening over in my head. His belt. The spanking. The way he felt when he kissed me like I was his last damn breath.
“Except?” Rachel prompted.
“It was amazing,” I told her. “He was amazing.”
“How many times was he amazing?”
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “What is it with you and the guys, and how many?”
The corners of her lips curved a little higher. “Because guys get off every time, they just do. It’s mechanics. But to get a girl off is an art. So, tell me—are they mechanics or are they artists?”
I nudged my plate away and balled up my napkin before I threw it at her. “Artists.” Face hotter than hell, I still grinned. “Definitely artists.”
“Yes,” Rachel said while toasting me. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Thankfully, we abandoned the topic before she got into how many orgasms I’d scored since, and I skipped out on the more salient details of my Thanksgiving Day trysts. To be honest, it was hard enough to believe I was currently balancing four relationships—four very active relationships. It stunned me how perfect Thanksgiving had been and that the guys were all okay with each other.
Even Ian.
Maybe especially Ian.
More than okay. They were conspiring about something. I’d caught them plotting more than once. Quiet conversations that cut off when I came out of the bathroom or into the kitchen. Sly looks when they thought I wouldn’t see.
Text messages.
All the messages that were flying. Texting even when we were all in the same room like they were answering other people.
It irked me, but then I’d see their smiles and catch them laughing with each other, and I didn’t want to rock the boat. So, whatever they were plotting, I let it go.
For now.
We paid for dinner, and Rachel hustled me out of the bistro and down three stops to the same spa where we’d gotten our nails done for Homecoming.
Ice fisted me in the gut when she pulled open the door and it jingled a welcome. It didn’t matter that it was a lot colder or that the sun had already set or that holiday jingles rolled out of the overhead speakers, all at once, I was standing outside the shop talking to Maria. She’d warned me. Told me what happened to her, and I’d felt so fucking bad for her.
And a few hours later, I was waking up at a hospital to find out if it happened to me, too. Rachel let the door close after waving to the people inside and narrowed the distance between us. “Hey, you okay?”
I rubbed my arm and nodded. But I wasn’t okay. “Yeah,” I lied. But suddenly, I didn’t want to be out here. I just
wanted to go back to my place and curl up and hide.
The second that thought took root, I hated it. I didn’t want to fucking hide. I shouldn’t have to hide. I forced myself to look up at the shop signs. They had Christmas lights twinkling in the windows. They’d sprayed faux snow on it, too and painted a Christmas tree side by side with a Menorah.
It was the closest we would get to snow for the holidays. We might get an ice storm.
Maybe.
Probably rain.
Could even be sunny and in the seventies.
But snow?
Pfft.
“We can skip this,” Rachel offered. “Head over to the mall? Do some shopping? Or just go find a place that’s warm to talk. I think the picnic table at the lake is out. Definitely too cold for that.”
“I’m okay,” I said, meaning it this time. “Just was thinking about the last time I was here.” My nails looked terrible, and I still had a cast. That was coming off on Monday, fingers crossed. We had finals most of the following week, then like three days of the week after that to get through before the holiday break kicked in and I didn’t have to think about school for a couple of weeks.
“You sure?” She eyed me like she could tell I was shining her on a little. “I want you to have fun tonight.”
“I am having fun. I’m with my best friend.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes at me and then blinked them before she half-turned away. “Right, okay. Let’s go make our feet beautiful. I’ll save my hands for when you can get yours done, too.”
Inside, we got set up and they pampered our feet. It took me a hot minute to relax, but by the time they were painting my toes, I had. Then I let Rachel talk me into that face waxing thing again. That turned into a leg waxing thing, because hey, who didn’t want to skip shaving for a few days?
When she suggested a Brazilian though, I was out of there. Nope.
