by Cari Quinn
She had to be insane.
She should be going home to collapse in bed. Alone. She was exhausted. Strung out. She’d been hammered by too many emotions today. Joy, excitement, fun. Then later, a touch of sadness. A tinge of regret that she’d never managed to make things work out with any of the guys in her past. That none of them had been her Wade, capable of making her cry at the idea of marrying him like Charlene had on and off all afternoon.
Naturally a little self-pity had sneaked in there too. She’d been alone for so long, without even a date or someone to have a harmless one-nighter with, that she’d begun to think she wasn’t even sexual anymore. Sure she had needs, lots of them, but they’d been stuffed down under work for what seemed like forever.
There was always so much work to do, and if she was busy, she didn’t have to think about what she was missing out on. Like she’d been doing for oh, the past fifteen minutes or so.
But now she wasn’t considering numbers on profit-and-loss sheets or buying inventory or trying to please her customers. She was thinking about pleasing herself…and God, that was terrifying. These weren’t just two cowboys passing through town. These were men she knew and trusted. Men she liked, in the case of Drake, and liked to tease and rile up, in the case of Colt.
And man, could he ever kiss.
Drake wasn’t the problem or the reason she’d had to pace off her worry for ten plus minutes. He was a decent guy, and a night with him wouldn’t cause her undue angst. She had faith that they could sleep together, enjoy themselves and part as friends.
Colt, on the other hand, was trouble. So much trouble she couldn’t even begin to get her arms around it.
He’d been Charlene’s. Hell, he’d been half the town’s at one point or another. The man got around as much as the tires on her good ol’ truck. She didn’t really want to be another notch on his bedpost, but more than that, she didn’t want to have to tell Charli what she’d done. And she would have to tell her, because she’d never be able to keep a secret this big from her bestie. Wouldn’t want to.
She had to hope Charli wouldn’t hate her forever for making this step. It had already given her a few bad moments and that was while she still had a miniscule buzz going on and had been kissed to within an inch of her life after almost losing it. Tomorrow the worry would be worse, she was sure of it.
But she still wasn’t walking away. She couldn’t. Not after all this time of not taking anything for herself, not even a moment or two of pleasure. It wasn’t as if this was going to change their lives or anything. They were three adults who’d have some fun and go their separate ways. No harm, no foul.
Lots and lots of orgasms.
She wouldn’t lose her bestie over it. That was just silly to even consider. Charli was a happily married woman. She probably didn’t even care what Colt did—or with whom.
“Okay,” Drake repeated, maybe hoping the affirmation would get Colt to speak. Anything was better than seeing him brooding in the backseat. The guy was not a brooder by nature, and it didn’t sit well with her. If he was this wigged out by the possibility of taking her to bed, why had he kissed her?
Adrenaline. Impulse. Stupidity.
She was probably riding high on all three tonight.
“She hasn’t thought it all through,” Colt said from the backseat.
Indignation reared up inside her. “I did so. What do you think I was doing outside?”
“Fretting. Not the same as thinking.”
“I don’t fret, you jackass.”
“See, she doesn’t want to sleep with me, she wants to insult me. That’s the kind of relationship we have.”
Even wrapped in her cloak of annoyance, she could hear the imploring note in Colt’s voice. He so didn’t want to do this. And she had a feeling it might not all have to do with her.
Weird. He’d said they’d shared women before. She highly doubted Colt had recently developed some kind of aversion to ménage sex. So what had changed his mind? Could it really all have to do with his just not wanting to go there with her?
“All right, you may have a point. You and Paige, maybe not. But me and Paige…” She let out a startled squeak when Drake leaned forward and plucked her off the ground, setting her on her seat with an ease that baffled and amazed her. She wasn’t some lightweight. But then he was tipping her head back and rubbing his mouth over hers, and all she could think was this was the second time she’d been kissed by a gorgeous-as-hell man tonight.
She’d just set a new personal best.
His lips pressed into hers, subtly commanding her to allow him entrance. She already was. His tongue slid inside and tangled with hers, slowly, sensually, while the hand on her face nudged her back and demanded more. More of her mouth, more of her. And she gave it, willingly.
He smelled of hay and horses and rich, earthy soil. Tasted of mint and coffee, an oddly potent combination. And when she let out a moan, he chased her tongue and sucked, giving her no choice but to make that urgent sound again.
“Enough.”
The sharply barked word made her fumble back to stare dizzily at Drake, who looked every bit as shaken. But the smile he gave her managed to ease her jumble of emotions and remind her of what was important.
More. Please. Now.
She was sliding back across the seat in his direction when Colt’s broad hand snagged in her hair, subtly tugging her back. Then he was kissing her, and it was no less arousing or magnetic. His lips toyed with hers, a gentle tease, until she found herself scrambling up to kneel just so she could get more of his mouth. His taste was darker, richer. More reckless. Scotch flavored his kisses. Maybe that was why she felt on the verge of drunk.
His tongue glided along the seam of her mouth, not insisting on entry. Just playing with her, like a lion played with its prey before zooming in for the kill. She reached for him, scratching her hand down his chest wherever she could reach.
He still hadn’t fully buttoned his shirt.
The realization ratcheted up her need another hundred degrees. She slid her hand lower, desperate to touch all that hot, hard flesh, and his groan broke against her lips, encouraging her to keep going. To his waist and below.
Just a few more inches…
“My turn.”
She wasn’t surprised to be tugged back toward Drake. Nor did his increasingly hungry kiss catch her off-guard. There was a level of competition between the two men, and she was coming out the winner in every damn way.
“Wait.” She pushed a hand against his chest, surprised to hear herself speak. She wasn’t actually interrupting things, was she? Because only a fool would slow this down.
Or someone who just wanted to be certain that all the parameters were in place before they took an irrevocable step.
“Second thoughts?” Drake brushed her hair away from her cheek. “You can call a halt to this anytime.”
“No, no second thoughts. Not for me. Just…he never said yes.” She glanced back at Colt. “If he’s not into this, I don’t want—”
Colt slid forward on the seat and took her hand, drawing it back toward him. She shifted to give him more access, expecting he’d lead her right to his hard cock. It was a typical overconfident-ladies’-man type of move, and Colt definitely qualified.
Instead, he brought her hand to his heart.
“Feel that?” The wild thrum beneath her fingers made her nod shakily. She couldn’t hold back her sigh when he kissed her fingertips, his gaze caressing hers in the darkened vehicle. “My concerns weren’t about not wanting you, or this to happen. They were about who you are. And who I am.”
“Charli’s ex.” She nodded again. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s not,” Drake said from the front seat. “I know I unfortunately missed the wedding tonight because I was driving back, but I still know what took place. Charlene married Colt’s brother. She’s over him. He’s over her.” He patted Paige’s hip, the one revealed by the gaping manmade slit. “Let’s get you under us.”<
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She groaned, laughing. “So bad.”
But even as she laughed, the images scrolled through her head. Drake parting her legs and driving into her, Colt sucking her breasts before feeding her his cock…
“We have to be honest and upfront,” she said after a moment. “I’m going to tell Charli exactly what happened tonight.”
“Specify exactly,” Colt said, sucking her finger between his sharp teeth.
“Not that exact,” she muttered, and both men laughed.
“We don’t expect you to lie.”
As difficult as it was, she drew her hand back from Colt and gazed at him. “Are you going to?”
“This may surprise you, but Char and I don’t discuss our sex lives. So I doubt it would come up. But if you tell her, and she asks, I won’t try to change the subject, as awkward as it will be.”
“She’ll wonder why it had to be us, just for a one-nighter. Why it couldn’t be someone other than me.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“It had to be you, because you’re the one we want.”
She scoffed at Drake’s comment, though she grew silent as his hand slid over her bare hip. “I was just in the right place, right time.”
“I’d wager to say right place, right time accounts for most of the best things that happen in life. But no, you weren’t. We both have wondered about this happening before.” When Colt didn’t chime in, Drake lifted a brow in the direction of the backseat. “Tell her.”
Colt scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he said, so helplessly that her chest surged with warmth. He didn’t necessarily want to want her—because of the Charlene factor—but he couldn’t help it. And that meant more to her than a thousand pithy come-ons.
“I wondered too.” As Drake chuckled, she shook her head. “Not about both of you at once…but I noticed you both. I wouldn’t let myself do more.”
“So we’ll change that now. No more wondering, or noticing, or thinking too hard.” Drake slipped his thumb under the edge of her thong, revealed by the rip in her dress, and she shuddered. “We’ll write our own rules tonight.”
The last bit of her hesitation fled. She would snatch this slice of heaven for herself, and Charli—newly married Charli—would understand that she’d been alone too long, and how flattering it was to be desired by two such strapping men. Even though one of them made her want to spit half the time, he was still hotter than the blazing noontime Texas sun.
“Okay,” she agreed softly, glancing back at Colt. “Okay?” she asked, needing to hear him say yes. Not wanting to leave any part of this up to chance. Or worse, leave room open for regrets afterward.
If they were going to do this, it would be all three of them. All the way.
Leaning forward, Colt studied her eyes for a disturbingly long moment. After apparently finding what he needed to see, he rubbed her lower lip with his thumb and smiled. “Okay.”
3
With Drake at his side, Colt walked into Paige’s apartment over Quinn’s one and only Chinese restaurant and shook his head. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this sure wasn’t it.
The first thing she did was head into the bathroom and return with a small first-aid kit. She bandaged up Colt’s cut with swift efficiency. It wasn’t bleeding anymore and didn’t even hurt, but he wouldn’t have minded playing up the injury if it meant she’d play nurse for a bit longer.
She bustled back into the bathroom before he could make the suggestion, so he contented himself with checking out her place instead.
It was small, the furnishings eclectic—from the hula-girl lamp sitting on a glass-topped table in the shape of a giant shoe to the curtain made of red crystals that bisected the living room from the dining room. Red was a common theme. The walls were red, the curtains were red. He half expected to smell incense when he took a deep breath, but no, there was just Paige’s arousing jasmine scent.
“I know it’s not much.” She laid a hand on the long, low couch that appeared to have been covered in denim. Actual denim. “I funnel all my funds back into the store. We’re hoping to expand in the next few years.”
“Oh really? Are you going to renovate the current store or do you mean add on additional locations?”
“Both, actually, if we can get the loans we’re hoping for.”
While Drake and Paige chitchatted about business, Colt wandered around her space. An old-fashioned record player with a horn and a rack of dusty records caught his eye. He grabbed the first one and set it to play.
Conversation ground to a halt as the scratchy sounds of Frank Sinatra filled the room. This was the second time he’d heard Frank tonight. His mother would’ve approved. From the hiss and crackle as the album circled the turntable, this record had obviously been well-loved.
“Wow.” Paige’s boisterous laugh spilled out. “You looking for a seduction, Mr. Bennett? I thought we were just banging the drum tonight.”
Her sly words teased out the dominant side of his nature that was never too far away. He strode toward her and slid his hand into her hair, drawing her up on her tiptoes so that she swayed against him. “What’d I say about you calling me Mr. Bennett?”
She caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “I don’t remember.”
“Keep it up and the next time you say it, I’ll put you on your knees.”
He waited for her to balk or worse yet, for apprehension to slip into her wide, guileless eyes. Her every emotion telegraphed across her face, and right now, he had no problem interpreting her feelings.
What he’d said made her hot.
If he hadn’t been fairly certain of that, the way she dropped to her knees without another word proved it. She reached for his belt, pulling it free from the loops with a speed he appreciated since there was suddenly a critical situation beneath his waist. She eased down his pants and boxer briefs in one smooth motion and let out a little gasp that made him grin as he glanced at Drake.
Until he saw Drake’s attention was located in the exact same spot.
“You rushing things, sweetheart?” His best friend stepped behind her and gathered her long red waves in his hands, holding them back from her face.
She glanced up at Colt from beneath her lashes. “Is that a problem?”
Her submissive tack here behind closed doors was a revelation, because she sure as hell had a firm command on her business. She took no guff from anyone during work hours, and Colt had to admit a forbidden thrill skated up his spine at seeing little miss prim Paige kneeling before him, waiting for his cock.
Her big blue eyes begging for it.
“No problem here.” Colt rubbed his finger over her lower lip, loving how she instinctively opened up for him and waited for what he wanted her to do. A rhythm like that could take months to develop, and here she was slipping right into the groove. “Wrap your hand around my cock. Slow and easy.”
She did as she asked, her pupils flaring as she stretched her fingers to grip as much of him as she could. His hand fell away from her face, moving to her shoulder to tug down the bodice of her blue bridesmaid dress. He needed to see her bare breasts, needed to feel them cushioning his dick as she curled those pretty rosy red lips around his shaft. But he couldn’t get the stupid dress down, and she’d already moved forward without further instruction to lap the tip of his erection. At first he thought she was hesitant, then he saw the playful gleam in her eyes. The vixen wanted to torture him.
Well, she wouldn’t be on her own there.
“Need some help?”
Before he could answer his best friend, Drake lowered the zipper on the back of Paige’s dress, the sound loud in the room in spite of the music. He wasted no time grabbing her wrists and tugging them to her sides so he could pull the dress down to her waist. She faltered for a second then resumed licking Colt’s dick without the use of her hands, her technique as delicate as a prom-night virgin’s.
“Take off her bra too,” Colt i
nstructed, his length hardening further at the telltale rasp of her bra clasp coming apart. The lacy cups fell forward, the straps sliding down the arms she still held at her sides. The material caught on her large breasts until Drake thumbed it free.
“Jesus,” he and Drake muttered at the same time. Her breasts were fucking perfect.
He’d already known she had curves for days, but he’d never imagined they’d be this ripe and full. Her pink nipples were already distended, and Drake fell to his knees at her side to assist her with that issue. She cried out as soon as his lips closed around one, but her lips, now shyly circling the head of Colt’s cock, never let up on their slick advance and retreat.
“That all you can do, darlin’?” Colt grated out, slipping his hands into her hair. He scattered pins and tugged out the ribbon, desperate to feel the miles of curls spilling into his hands while he fucked her mouth.
She took a little more of him inside and lifted one hand to probe between his legs. A fingernail circled his balls and he hissed, shocked to find himself on the verge already.
It had been a long time, but not that long. Then again, he’d never been with Paige.
Or Paige and Drake, together.
Her fingers closed around his sac, gently squeezing, while she hollowed out her cheeks and took him deeper in tiny increments. Her form of sensual torture was paying off. Between watching Drake nip at her nipples until they were tight and bright pink, and the sensations building at the base of his spine, he knew no technique could keep this party going for long. She sucked at the head of his dick, tongue and lips working in concert, humming so that ripples of heat spun out and gathered in his groin. Low in his belly. Hell, everywhere. And Drake continued to tongue her breasts as he tugged her dress down past her hips, swearing as he reached a point where he could go no farther without interrupting her task.
She wasn’t stopping for anything.
Colt pressed his fingers into her scalp, holding her right where he needed. Her hair tangled around his fists, all that thick red silk, and he couldn’t stop the urge that demanded he drive forward and claim her soft, wet heat. Everywhere she was soft and wet, but starting with those perfect pink lips.
