Down & Dirty-epub

by Rhian Cahill

  As if she’d spoken out loud, the pressure instantly lessened to a light caress that made her see stars. She blinked them away, leaned forward to rest her forehead on the wall—seeing as the muscles in her neck had gone totally lax—and looked down.

  Spencer’s arm was molded to her belly, his skin dark against her own paler color. His massive hand hid her almost hairless mound, and she watched, entranced, as it moved in slow, sensual circles, guiding his finger.

  She continued to rock her hips, doubling her pleasure as his cock caressed her between her ass cheeks.

  Sensitive as she might be, it didn’t stop the animalistic way she responded to his strokes. She felt like one giant exposed nerve ending. Wherever he touched, she responded, jerking to life. And Spencer touched her everywhere. Her pussy, her ass, her stomach, her back, her waist. Her heart.

  Oh yeah, he’d burrowed right inside that heart of hers, like his friend had this morning.

  Thoughts of Levi made her hotter and a throaty groan slipped from her lips.

  “I need you to know you’re safe, sweetheart. I’m wearing a condom.”

  Thank God for small miracles. If he pulled back to get protection, leaving her alone for even a second, she’d sob hysterically at the loss of contact.

  Now she wasn’t the only one rocking. He was too. But his rhythm messed with hers, sensory overload making her clumsy, and his cock popped out from between her ass cheeks. When he guided it back, it was in a different position, horizontal now and slipping between her legs, sliding over the seam of her pussy.

  The front of his thighs were plastered against the back of hers, and the hair of his legs abraded her skin in the sexiest way. His shaft teased her lips and caressed her clit with every upward slide, and tormented her with every downward one.

  “Are we…gonna…use that condom?” The need to feel him inside her, filling her, fucking her, was so intense her inner walls clenched in desperation. “Or are you gonna keep me hanging?”

  “Oh, it’ll be used.” His voice was a harsh rasp. “But you have me so fucking turned on, I’m going to last all of a minute when I get inside of you. Thirty seconds, tops.”

  Twenty-nine seconds longer than she’d last.

  Spencer’s next words sent a fresh bolt of desire shooting through her.

  “Your cunt is so fucking hot.” The pressure against her pussy increased. “Your juices are scalding my balls and my fingers.”

  Was he speaking dirty to her?

  “Can’t wait to fuck you, babe. Can’t wait to feel that gorgeous pussy of yours squeezing my cock.”

  Holy smoke. Her polite and charming accountant had a potty mouth.

  Well, didn’t that make her tingle in all the right places?

  “Gonna come so hard when I’m finally inside you. Gonna blow like a volcano.”

  Chelsea whimpered at the thought. Her nipples tightened and a fresh wave of heat pooled in her pussy.

  “Ah, you just got wetter.” He growled behind her. “You like the idea? Like the thought of me shooting my load while I’m inside you?”

  Chelsea nodded. “S-so much.”

  “It’ll all be for you, Chelsea. Because of you. Every last drop. You’ve got my balls aching and my dick throbbing. Don’t think I’ve ever been this aroused in my life.”

  God, how did he expect her to breathe when he spoke like this?

  He leaned in, molding his chest to her back, and whispered in her ear. “I’m already dripping with precome.”

  She couldn’t bear the teasing a second longer. Couldn’t take another word. Not unless he quit tormenting her and shoved that dripping cock inside her. Her pussy ached with the need to be filled. By him.

  “But then so are you. So damn wet. So…damn…hot.”

  “Spencer.” God, was that her voice, that desperate wail?

  “What is it, babe?”

  “Please.”

  “Please, what?”

  He knew what. God, he knew. “Please.” It was too hard to say out loud. Not with her breath gone and her entire being focused on her hollow, needy pussy.

  “Say it, babe. Say it and it’s yours.”

  “Please.” The word was more a sob. “Fuck me.”

  “Gladly.”

  And with one skilled thrust, Spencer ended the torment and drove his cock into her, seating himself to the hilt.

  Chelsea came. Just exploded around his dick—with images of Spencer and his best friend streaming through her head.

  She couldn’t help herself. And she only came harder as he continued with the dirty talk.

  “That’s it, babe. Come for me. Squeeze my cock hard. Christ, you look sexy. So fucking good, quivering like that. Makes me wanna come too. Makes me wanna drive into you again and again ’til I can’t hold back another second.”

  And then he was driving into her again and again, thrusting deep. He clasped her hips and pushed in and out, hard and fast. Then harder and faster, then even harder, and God knew she’d never been so full, so satisfied, so turned on. Never come so hard, or so long.

  When he drove into her one last time before his entire body stiffened and let out a mighty roar, God help her, she peaked again. All over his pulsing cock.

  Long, long seconds passed as he spent himself inside her. Long seconds of sheer ecstasy. Long seconds before he released his crushing hold on her hips and his body slackened.

  But before she had the chance to catch her breath, before his softening cock had a chance to slip out of her, his hand found her pussy again and he fingered her clit.

  Oh, Shit. No. God, please no. Too sensitive. Too tender. Too…too…

  Too good! So good. Amazing.

  She came again, her muscles clamping down on his cock.

  Spencer gasped behind her, his arm stiffened, but he never stopped his assault. Not until the wave of bliss had passed through her. Utterly exhausted, she swatted at his hand.

  Too exhausted to hold her weight, her legs gave way beneath her. She began a slow crumple to the floor. Spencer released her, sliding from her body with a muffled oath, and landed in a pile against the wall beside her.

  Eons later, when her breath had returned and the last tingles finally subsided, she finally found the strength and energy to talk to Spencer.

  Chapter Four

  “We have a problem.”

  Levi gaped at Spencer standing at his front door in the middle of the night. “And we can’t wait until tomorrow morning to discuss it? A time when I’m not working?”

  Not that he was getting any constructive writing done. His head was too damn full of a beautiful, vexing restaurant owner and her desire for not one but two men.

  “Hell, no.” Spencer grimaced. “This can’t wait.” He shoved past Levi and walked into his house. “See, I’ve just had the best sex of my whole life. Seriously. The. Best. Sex. Ever. And guess who she was thinking about the entire time I fucked her?”

  Levi sucked in a breath, pushed the door closed and followed Spencer into his lounge room.

  Spencer turned to point at him. “You. That’s who.”

  He ignored the obvious accusation, zoning in on the important shit. “You slept with Chelsea?” The question made Levi want to punch his best mate in the face.

  “No. Sleep would imply that after I fucked her we lay together, closed our eyes and got some rest. But the second I tried, she started talking about you. You, for fuck sake. My balls are still twitching, and she’s telling me how God damn crazy she is about you.”

  Oh, they didn’t have a problem. They had two.

  The first one being if Spencer mentioned fucking Chelsea one more time, Levi was going to hurt him. Yeah, his mate might be taller than him. Stronger too. But the spare oar to Levi’s kayak was in the garage, and he wasn’t above retrieving and using it to shut Spencer up.

  The second problem? “I’m crazy ’bout her too.” Levi’s lips were pursed so tightly he had trouble speaking. “Told you as much last night.”

  “Yeah? Well yo
u might have thought about saying something before I made plans to see her tonight.”

  “I might have—if I’d known you’d intended to make plans with her.”

  “Christ, mate. I’ve been lusting after her for the last year. It’s hardly news to you.”

  Spencer had remarked frequently that he found Chelsea appealing. But c’mon. “What guy comments for a year without acting if he truly has feelings for a woman? I thought it was all talk, Spence. Didn’t take you seriously.”

  “Yeah?” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Apparently not.”

  “Apparently, you didn’t take me seriously either when I told you how I felt about her.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I took you dead seriously. But I wasn’t about to up and break the date because of it.”

  Ah. Well, fucking great. Levi had been willing to walk away from Chelsea for Spencer’s sake, but Spence hadn’t afforded him the same respect. Now he no longer regretted that last kiss in the park. The one that had left Chelsea trembling and breathless and him with a dick as hard as steel. He also didn’t regret telling her after their last kiss in the park to make up her mind, fast, because he didn’t plan on hanging around to play second fiddle to his best mate.

  Yeah, Levi had been prepared to walk away, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to. He’d hoped Chelsea would choose him and let go of her feelings for Spencer.

  She obviously hadn’t. Not if Spence had just had the best sex of his entire life with her.

  “I would have,” Spence went on to say. “Would have called things off then and there if she’d given me any inkling that she was interested in you. But she didn’t. Not until afterwards anyway. Then suddenly she couldn’t shut up about you.”

  Levi collapsed into a couch. “Well, here’s an issue we’ve never had to face before.” Not once in their twenty-year friendship had they ever fought over a woman. Their tastes had always been so different, they’d never needed to. Spencer was a serial monogamist. He tended to pick pretty, intelligent women who, like him, saw long-term commitment as a major bonus.

  Levi liked them hot and wild and free. The freer the better. Long as they came without strings, Levi was interested—for a night or so.

  Only three women had ever inspired Levi to do the commitment thing. The first had been Zoey, who he’d met in English lit. lectures and hit it off with immediately. They’d been together a year before both had acknowledged that friendship was their real bond, not love. Zoey and Theo had gotten together less than two months later—with Levi’s blessing.

  The second had been Emily—the evil bitch who’d convinced Levi he was better off single.

  The third was Chelsea.

  “I need a drink.” Spencer stalked over to the freestanding bar, threw it open and grabbed the bottle of Glenlivet Levi always kept stocked for him. He didn’t bother with a glass, just opened the full bottle of scotch and took a long sip.

  Levi held out his hand. “My turn.”

  “You don’t drink scotch.” He took another sip.

  “I don’t fall for the same woman as my best mate either. Now hand me the god-damned bottle.”

  Spencer passed it over after a third helping.

  The drink burned all the way down, but not as hot as the jealousy that gnawed at his gut. “I pretty much hate you right now.”

  “Yeah? Right back at ya.” Spencer collapsed into the same couch and relieved Levi of the bottle.

  A minute later, Levi took it back and glugged down a healthy mouthful. “This tastes like shit.”

  “Then get yourself a damn beer and leave my drink alone.”

  “Technically, it’s my drink.” He poured a generous sip down his throat. The stuff still burned. “I bought it.” The biggest damn bottle he could find.

  “Technically—” Spencer took the scotch and drank, “—you’re an asshole.”

  “Technically—” he took it back, “—you fucked my woman.”

  “Technically…technically….” Spencer slammed his fist into the arm of the couch. “Technically, Barr-o, she’s a freaking ten out of ten.”

  “In bed too?”

  “We never got anywhere near a bed. But, yeah. She was a full ten.”

  Levi shoved a finger in each ear, almost slamming the bottle into his cheek in the process. “I don’t want to hear.”

  “You asked.”

  “Can’t hear you.” But he could, because he’d had to take the finger out of one ear to direct the bottle back to his mouth.

  Spencer took the scotch back the second he lowered it. “I’ve never had a full ten before. Not even Becca.” The last love of Spencer’s life. He’d given her a nine and a half. An incredibly generous score for the numbers man. The highest Spencer had ever awarded a woman—until tonight.

  Levi shoved his fingers back in his ears. “La la la. I can’t hear you.”

  “I could fall in love with her.”

  “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.”

  “I think I may already have fallen in love with her.” Spencer’s voice penetrated straight through Levi’s useless finger-ear block.

  He chanted louder. “If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?”

  “But I can’t deal with the fact that I love a woman who’s falling in love with my best mate.”

  “She sells sea shells on the seashore.” Crap. He couldn’t remember the rest.

  “I swear to God, thinking about tonight’s making me hard again.”

  Levi switched chants. Fast. “Betty bought a bit of butter to bake a batter of biscuits.” He had no issues when it came to discussing sex with his mate. None at all. They’d discussed sex since they’d discovered the meaning of the word.

  But he had a huge fucking issue discussing sex with Chelsea with his mate.

  Spencer turned to glare at Levi. “Then I think of her thinking about you, and bam. Soft all over again.”

  Levi glared back. “But the butter Betty bought was bitter, so Betty bought a better bit of butter, making Betty’s bitter batter better.” Maybe he should get some bitter butter—and shove it up Spencer’s ass.

  Er, hell no. He wasn’t putting his hand anywhere near Spencer’s ass. Not with the huge bulge in his mate’s pants. “You’re hardly soft, dickhead. You’ve got a boner bigger than my kayak.”

  “You’d also have one if you’d done what we’d done.”

  “Yeah? Well, I didn’t, so fuck you.” He grabbed the bottle and drank.

  “Yeah, well, you could have if you’d wanted to, so fuck you too.”

  Levi frowned and offered the scotch to Spence. “I could have?”

  “Jesus, yeah.” He accepted the offering, bent his neck back and tipped the bottle into his mouth, shaking out every last drop. “She’s fucking crazy about you.” He turned the bottle upside down. “It’s empty.”

  Wordlessly, Levi walked to his fridge, grabbed a six pack of Heineken and returned to the couch via the bar. He helped himself to a beer and gave Spence a fresh bottle of Glenlivet.

  Spencer twisted it open and put it to his mouth.

  “She’s crazy ’bout you too.” Levi sighed. “Told me so this morning.”

  “Well, isn’t this just great? Crazy about you when she’s with me, and crazy about me when she’s with you.”

  Levi did in half the beer. “What are you gonna do about it?”

  Spencer shrugged. “Dunno. Walk away. Maybe. You?”

  “Dunno. Walk away. Maybe. Or cripple you with my kayak oar.” He slugged down the rest without taking the time to appreciate the fine European taste. “Whichever I find the energy for first.”

  “Mate, you couldn’t cripple a cockroach with your kayak oar.”

  Levi belched loudly, crumpled the empty tin, tossed it over his shoulder and took another. “Yeah? Well, I probably couldn’t walk away either.”

  “Me neither. Don’t wanna walk
away. Like her too damn much.” Spencer stared at the scotch.

  “So what we gonna do about it?” Levi knew he was starting to slur his words, but he didn’t particularly care.

  “Beats me, mate.” Spencer gave up staring at the scotch and lifted it to his mouth.

  “You realize I’m gonna take out a hit on you in my next chapter.”

  Spencer looked at him in surprise. “You’d write me into Willful?”

  “If you die a particularly nasty death?” Levi nodded. “Yeah.”

  Spencer’s eyes got misty. “Seriously, Barr-o? You’d do that? Give me a starring role in your book.”

  “It’s not a compliment, asshole.”

  “Yeah. It is. I’d get to be part of a USA Times bestselling book.”

  “A dead part. And it’s New York Times, not USA, asshole.”

  “I’ll take any part. You’re the best, man. A true friend.”

  “Can’t say the same about you. You fucked my girl.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” He took a long, slow drink. “And it was awesome. Ten out of ten. You should try it sometime.”

  “Yeah, I fucking should.” Levi sought solace in the depth of another beer.

  For a long time, neither man spoke. Spencer stared at his bottle again, as though it held the answers to the world’s problems, and Levi timed how long it took to finish another can. Or he tried to anyway, but by the time the first sip was swallowed, he’d forgotten what his watch had said when he started it.

  “Know what would be the ferpect solution?”

  Levi looked at his friend through one eye. The other was blurring. “Ferpect?”

  Spence nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Go ahead.” He attempted to gesture generously, but his arm was too damn heavy to lift. “Tell me.”

  “If we both fucked her. At the same time. Me on one side. You on the other and Chelsea between us.”

  Levi closed his eye. Pointless leaving it open, because it had gotten all blurry too. He yawned hugely and slouched down in the couch. “And that what be a ferpect solution?”

  “Yeah, mate.” Spencer’s voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. Maybe it was. “It would be fucking prefect.”