by Dani René
“Yeah, it’s our own little piece of heaven,” Ethan tells me proudly. I follow him into the living room where I take in the black sofas and red shag carpet under a glass coffee table. Who knew guys could be so tidy?
“Yeah, I can see why,” I tell him.
I turn to find him staring at me. The dress I chose is thigh-length, black, and it hugs my skinny frame. I’ve always been shy of my body. I’m not built like most of the girls with my slim waist and small breasts. But there’s an appreciation in Ethan’s gaze that makes me blush.
“You look amazing,” he finally murmurs, stepping closer to me. My stomach does a tumble when he lifts my chin with his index finger. He doesn’t lean in, he doesn’t kiss me, just offers me a smile.
Someone clears their throat, and I take a step backward, startled. When I turn around, I find Brock inches from me, a wolfish smile on his lips.
“Start the party without me?” he quips, leaning in, his mouth is so close to mine, but not touching.
“Not just yet,” Ethan answers for me, calming the storm that seems to be brewing between the three of us. It’s clear they both want this—want me. “We’re glad you came tonight.”
“Thank you,” I offer the dark-eyed man a smile. Because that’s what he is, a man. They both are.
His hands find purchase on my hips and he tugs me closer. His lips find mine in a gentle, yet searing kiss. His tongue asks for entry with a gentle probe, and I give it to him.
I’ve wanted to kiss him since he walked up to me a couple days ago, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the butterflies wildly fluttering in my stomach. He tastes like soda and candy—and I want so much more.
“Tell me this is okay?” Ethan questions, his gaze pleading with me.
I nod, and that's all he needs. Ethan's hands remain on my hips as Brock’s strong hand cups my cheek and his lips land on mine, kissing me as deeply as Ethan did. It’s heady being between two strong men. It’s so far outside my comfort zone, I feel dizzy when he finally pulls away.
“Let’s eat,” Ethan announces, and the look in both their gazes tells me they’re not thinking about food at this point. He leaves us in the living room and heads into the kitchen. The sound of dishes being manhandled echoes through the space as he gets the dinner table ready.
Brock’s hand trails its way over my arm, dragging my attention to him. With a crooked smile, he tells me, “If anything ever feels uncomfortable, you tell us, okay?”
“I will.”
“Promise?” He's serious, so damn serious, and it makes my heart race.
“I promise, I’ll tell you and Ethan.”
He nods, planting a kiss on my forehead, then laces his fingers with mine. We follow the noise in the kitchen to find Ethan finishing up something on the stove. When he turns to me, he offers a wink before I’m seated by Brock.
Moments later, we’re all at the table, plates full, and two sets of eyes on me.
“Tell us about you,” Ethan says, a curious glint in his eyes.
“Well, I have a sister, and I’m not exactly the outgoing type, so I spend most of my time reading or surfing,” I start, piling my fork with pasta before putting it in my mouth. When the flavors hit my tongue, I can’t help moaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.”
“I figured out how to cook when I was growing up,” Ethan tells me. “My mother…” his words taper off, and I have a feeling he’s going to tell me something bad. “She died when I was younger,” he continues after taking a sip of the soda beside his plate.
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I’m okay. I mean, my dad was good to me, even though there were many times we didn’t see eye to eye.”
Nodding in understanding, I realize I have something in common with him. My parents don’t understand why I don’t want to work in the medical field. But it’s just never been something I’ve been interested in. I admire them, and all medical staff, but it’s not me.
“And you?” I question Brock, who’s silently eating his dinner. Those blue eyes snap in my direction, meeting mine. “What about your family?”
“Four brothers, one older, two younger. My mother and father are no longer around.” When he says this, my heart aches. There’s a sadness in his gaze that tears at my chest. “Not really much to tell." He shrugs it off, and I can see the pain in his eyes. I don’t push, allowing the subject to change when Ethan prompts me about what I plan to do after school.
“I want to work for myself. I’d like to offer clients marketing advice and help them get their business off the ground.”
“Nice.” He smiles, and once again, my stomach flips.
We sit in silence for a little while, eating our dinner, and I can’t help taking both boys in. They’re so different, so very opposite to each other. I observe them quietly as they ask each other for objects from the table—their touches, smiles, gazes. There’s a connection between them.
“Are you two…?” I start, unsure of what to say, or how to ask it. “I mean, I know…” I’ve never been so nervous to ask something before. My family is rather close minded when it comes to certain things, certain lifestyles, which makes me sad, but I think it’s amazing when people love each other without qualms.
“We’re not together just yet, but we care about each other. If that’s what you wanted to know.” Ethan puts me out of my misery with his response.
Nodding, I smile. “Yeah, I mean…I just...there’s clearly affection at the table and your home isn’t what I was expecting.”
“Trust me, it’s not always this clean,” Brock chimes in. “Normally, there are clothes on every piece of furniture.” He laughs, the sound light and carefree, and for the first time since I’ve met him, I see a different Brock.
Chapter Nine
Brock
She looks at me strangely for a moment. Not in a bad way, but almost as if she’s attempting to decipher me. The only person who’s ever been able to do that is Ethan. Her eyes are unique, almost cat-like in shape, and they’re blue, but not like mine. Hers are deep, endless, and remind me of the ocean.
“So,” she starts, a soft pink on her cheeks as she blushes, and I know she’s going to ask about sex. “You two always share?”
“Not always, only when the woman is exquisite.” Ethan’s compliment causes her cheeks to darken even more. She’s fucking beautiful. Many times, over the years, I’ve been with girls, women, and I’d say they’re hot, or fuckable, or something like that, but with Camila, she’s none of those things.
She’s breathtaking.
The thought stops me for a moment.
Being like my dad, I’ve always been the "hit it and quit it" type, but with her, I think I may just become an addict to her taste, her smile, and that incredibly sexy caramel skin. I imagine she tastes as sweet.
“I’m no prude, but I’ve never been with two guys,” she whispers. There’s no judgment, though, just pure innocence.
“Are you…?” I want to ask her if she’s a virgin, to be up front, but I can’t find the words.
She shakes her head. “No, I mean, I’ve had boyfriends.” She smiles shyly, her long dark lashes fluttering against the apples of her cheeks. Jesus, she’s incredible.
“Then we’ll take it slow,” Ethan confirms with a nod.
She smiles, and my heart fills with something I’ve only ever felt when I’m with Ethan. Strangely, it doesn’t make me fear what I feel, it’s almost like a certain freedom. Perhaps that’s how my dad felt when he first looked at Rowan. I certainly never felt that way about my ex-girlfriend. When Dad “stole” her from me, I wasn’t really that broken up about it. I got my car he promised and he got the girl. My pride suffered a blow for about a day, but every time I revved that engine, I knew who really won.
Camila picks up her drink, swallowing the wine, glances at Ethan, then meets my eyes, blue on blue. Her lips are wet with the red liquid, and I’m tempted to lick them, suck them, and make her whimper when I bite down on the plump
flesh.
My cock thickens at the sight as the thoughts tumble in my mind. Fuck.
I lower my eyes, focusing on my food until the plate is empty, leaving Ethan and her to talk about school and her love for surfing. I catch every nuance, every smile and glimmer as she talks about her love of the ocean.
Camila rises and takes her plate into the kitchen. When she returns, she heads to the window to watch the waves beyond.
“How about we relax in the living room for a while?” I suggest once all our plates are cleared and the wine glasses are empty.
“Sure. I can’t stay out too late, though. My dad won’t like it,” Camila informs us.
I shove my chair back, rising and heading toward her. “Is he that strict?” I question, reminding myself of how Levi and my dad allowed us to live our lives the way we wanted. Most days, they probably didn’t know where we were.
“Yeah, just a tad. I’m the youngest,” she tells me.
“Ah, the baby,” Ethan teases, earning him a feisty glare. I chuckle. She’s fire and warmth, and I lean in to plant a kiss on her forehead. She tilts her face, and her eyes meet mine. There’s desire there, beautiful and shiny. Ethan joins us, his hands holding onto her bare arms, mine on her hips. We’re once again cocooning her, keeping her between us where, somewhere deep down, I know she’s meant to be.
“Can I ask you something?" Her tone is breathy, making it clear she loves being sandwiched between us.
“Sure.” I nod.
“Do you…can you…” she flits her gaze between us, “kiss?”
Her question stills me for a moment. That was the last thing I expected her to say. I look up at my best friend, and he shrugs. After our leap forward recently, this will be a walk in the park. I step away from Camila and toward Ethan, but out the corner of my eye, I see her full lips part on a gasp when Ethan grips my nape, tugging me closer. Rough, forceful, pure alpha male.
Our lips mesh after a moment, and I can’t stop the growl he elicits. Her breath hitches beside me, and I can feel her eyes burning into us, searing me, scorching him. She likes this.
My tongue duels with Ethan’s, hot and wet. My cock throbs, hardening for him—for my best friend.
Our bodies are pressed tightly together. Hard and unyielding. Needy and wanton. When I open my eyes, I meet Camila’s stare filled with awe and desire.
“Are you enjoying watching us, naughty girl?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she responds shyly, her cheeks turning a soft pink. Her lips part when I reach for her chin, lifting her head so her eyes are on mine.
“Are you wet, baby girl?” My question has her blush darkening, the color turning her face and neck crimson. “You are. Those panties are probably drenched for us,” I taunt her, earning a smile.
“Touch your pretty panties for us, sweetheart,” Ethan says, his voice low, dripping with desire. The electric current hanging around us is all consuming and I’m lost in this scene.
“Go on, baby girl,” I encourage her.
She shyly moves her hand down her slim frame toward her pussy. Camila’s whimper causes my cock to jolt and her delicate fingers disappear between her thighs.
“In those panties, I want to see how wet you are,” I tell her.
Her caramel legs are on display, and I almost lose all control when she pulls her fingers away and they’re glistening with arousal.
“Fuck, baby girl,” I growl, leaning into capture her fingers in my mouth. Her taste is sweet, tangy, like salted caramel. Everything I imagined and more. Fucking delicious. Once I’ve cleaned her fingers, I press an open-mouthed kiss on Ethan, allowing him to taste her from me.
It’s only been a few days since we met the little Spanish beauty, but there’s something more going on between the three of us, and I can’t wait to finally experience it. When I break the kiss, I lean closer to her, inhaling her sweet scent. Ethan mimics me, cocooning her.
I’m about to pull her between us when a cell phone rings from somewhere in the house. Camila races inside, leaving us staring at her. When she picks up her phone, she frowns at the message, then looks up at us both. “I don’t want to go, but my dad is worried about me,” Camila says.
“Did you want me to drive you home?” Ethan questions, concern is clear in his voice.
“It’s okay. I have my car,” she says, smiling, and we both venture toward her.
“Soon, we’ll get to devour you, but the slower the journey, the more explosive the arrival,” I promise her, because I can’t wait for it. She shivers at my words, and I smirk. I want her, I want this. And we’ll have it really soon.
Chapter Ten
Ethan
“Want to catch some waves?” Camila’s voice comes from behind me. She smiles, her hand on the board in the sand next to her—a vision under the hot sun. The sand is warm underfoot, and I can feel Brock’s gaze lingering on me from behind. He’s on the lounger after an hour in the ocean, taking in the scenery.
After our dinner a couple weeks ago, we haven’t seen Camila outside of school. Even though we haven’t had a chance to spend time alone with her again, we’re constantly texting each other and we meet up with her for lunch when she’s not studying. There’s something different about her. She doesn’t get on our nerves like most women. She’s not clingy, and that makes us want to spend more time with her.
With this being our last year in college, our schedules are more intense and loaded, so we’ve been busy. But we’re both eager to see more of her.
“Sounds good,” I tell her, grabbing my board and heading toward the crashing waves. As we wade through the breakers, I glance at her, reveling in the strength as she swims up beside me on her board. She’s tiny, and her board is small, which makes it harder to navigate.
Her skin shimmers in the sunlight, making her look like she’s glowing, and I have to turn away again so I don’t end up with a fucking hard-on. A swell starts not far from us, and her squeal is enough to tell me she’s about to catch this one.
Her swift movements are intoxicating. Watching her is like watching a dolphin in its element, in the water, drenched, happy, and glowing with a smile that lights my whole fucking world. Only one other person makes me feel like this. Brock.
I join her, easily hopping onto the surface of my surfboard and riding the wave alongside her. We weave around each other, as if we’re dancing on the clear blue ocean, but not the same color as my best friend’s eyes—not the same color that makes me heart thud just that much faster.
We’re nearing the shore as the crest slows, and I slide off. The line tugs at my ankle, bringing the board back to me.
“Should we head over to Brock and keep him company?” Camila gestures to where the man in question is now on his stomach, facing the apartment instead of the beach. I glance over at her and chuckle. Mischief twinkles in her eyes. I know exactly what she has in mind.
“Let’s go.” Picking up my board, I race behind her as she makes her way up to Brock. As soon as she reaches him, she shakes her long curls over him, dripping cold water all over his tan, smooth back.
“Fuck!”
Camila squeals when he’s on his feet, chasing her down toward the water. They run by me, right into the wave crashing on the shore, and once again, Brock is soaked. His face lights up with happiness. When they reach me again, Camila leaps into my arms, and I’m convinced we’ve found our girl. She makes us both happy—she makes us feel content to just relax with her. We can hold a conversation about anything and she’ll match us with her knowledge. Her independence is a turn on. Her smile makes my heart beat just that much faster, and her sassiness is something that makes me want to challenge her even more.
She always has something interesting to tell us, and enjoys telling us about her classes, new books she’s reading, or even discussing her Art History assignments with as much confidence as if she we’re talking about surfing. Her love of the ocean leaves me in awe.
We’ve learned about her family moving from Spain, and her s
tepsister, who’s not her favorite person, but all that just makes me want to delve deeper into her mind.
In the time we’ve known her, Brock, nor I, have looked at another woman. We haven’t even spoken about heading out to any of the clubs.
I’ve seen a change in him over the past couple weeks, and I hope this is going to be Brock moving forward. He’s been in the dark for far too long, and it hurts me to see him like that, to see his pain.
“I think we may need to head inside,” I tell them. Both nod in agreement, and I wonder if this is the moment we’ll finally step into unknown territory. Not for us, but for Camila. There’s still a certain innocence to her, and I want to see her unravel. But instead of letting her walk out the door and go when we’re done, I want to tug her back to us and keep her.
I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see a woman I care about with another man, but Brock has changed me in profound ways. My dad and Eric used to play like this. Do the same things we do. But they didn’t want love. They were just getting their dicks wet, whereas Brock and I care about each other, and we care about Camila.
In the apartment, I set my board out on the patio, alongside the other two. Brock and Camila head inside, and I follow.
“Shower?” Brock suggests, and I nod, my eyes on Camila. This is it. Time for her to decide.
Her big blue eyes flit between me and my best friend, and a small smile curls her perfect lips. The answer is written all over her face, but she needs to voice it. I want to hear her say the words.
“I’d like that,” she offers shyly, making my dick hard.
“Brock will lead the way,” I tell her, stepping up behind her.
“Into temptation?” she quips, a soft, nervous laugh tumbling from her.
He glances back at her as he laces his fingers through hers. “Is there any other place?” He chuckles, and her cheeks darken at the insinuation.
