by Mari Carr
“You should see the list of games Finn and Sunnie came up with. We’ll be here until July if we play all of them. Want a beer?” she asked.
They went into the kitchen to grab a cold one from a huge tub of ice, then followed Fiona back to the living room. They socialized with her cousins and their friends as Finn and Sunnie took turns choosing the music.
Asher was relieved when Colm and Lochlan showed up, sans costumes as well. He hung out with them around the dining room table, eating enough bacon to choke a cat, until Sunnie declared everyone was there and it was time to play charades.
Charades was followed by Cards Against Humanity, which was followed by several drinking games, including flip cup relays, Kings, and something he’d never heard of called “Fuck You Pyramid.” Several times throughout the evening, Asher had grabbed bottles of water for him, Fiona and Owen.
“More water?” she asked when he handed her the third bottle of the night. “Trying to keep me hydrated?”
“Or sober?” Owen interjected.
That’s exactly what Asher was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Considering we’ve done nothing but drink since we landed in Baltimore, I figure your body is crying out for H-two-O.”
“You’re probably right. Thursday almost did me in. Which is why I took it easy last night.”
“You haven’t had that much tonight, either.” He pointed to Fiona’s cup, perfectly aware that she’d been taking baby sips and nursing this last beer the better part of an hour.
“Trying to keep a clear head.”
Asher wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Clear heads are good.”
Owen didn’t appear to agree as he set the water bottle down and chugged the rest of his beer. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.”
Asher figured Owen’s response was based on nerves.
“Hit the Quan” came on, and the game, which had been dying down, ended completely as several partiers started pushing the couch and chairs back to create a makeshift dance floor. Asher, Owen and Fiona joined the others in the line dance. Teddy boogied over near the end of the song.
“Where’s Ryan?” Owen asked loudly, in order to be heard over the music.
Teddy merely shook his head and pointed his thumb toward the door. It looked like Ryan had been Tinder Strike Number Two.
Unlike with the Bulgarian bonbon, Teddy seemed to take Ryan’s departure harder and he excused himself after a few more songs, claiming he was too tired from the previous two nights. Quite a few other people were starting to leave as well, so they didn’t try to pressure him into staying, though Asher hated seeing the guy so down. Teddy was always the life of the party, so his early departure was out of character.
Asher worried he didn’t leave because of Ryan, but because he didn’t want to see what might happen after the party. Teddy wouldn’t want to watch if everything imploded.
Colm headed up to his bedroom shortly after two, and it didn’t take long for everyone else to disperse as well. Sunnie had passed out in her room an hour earlier, going too hard, too fast. He, Fiona, and Owen started tidying up the place until Asher looked around and realized they were the last three people still there.
“Wow.” Fiona dropped down on the couch. “What a night.”
“How many people are going to wake up tomorrow and think ‘what the hell did I do’?” Owen asked with a chuckle, sitting next to her on the couch.
Asher claimed the other side, silently praying none of them fell into that category. “My guess is everyone who ate one of those gummy bears Leo brought. Way more than just sugar in those bad boys.”
Fiona warmed up to his game. “Definitely Sunnie. Pretty sure she had no intention of making out with Finn’s best friend, Landon. And I think Colm—if he remembers—is going to be horrified when he thinks about that dirty dancing he and Kelli were doing. They’re not exactly friends when sober.”
“Lochlan is probably going to regret the dent he made in the bacon tower,” Asher added.
Fiona shook her head. “He’s a gym nut. He’ll have those calories worked off by noon tomorrow.”
“That would explain the washboard abs,” Owen grumbled. “It’s almost enough to make me want to take my trainer more seriously. But not quite.” The network was footing the bill for Owen’s personal trainer, claiming they wanted to keep their hot star in shape, something Owen had never had to work too hard at in college, but was now having to make an effort at.
Asher laughed. “That’s definitely the last time I play strip poker with him.”
Fiona glanced down. “I have no idea where my bra is.”
Owen snorted as he pointed to a pile of bras near the dining room table. “Over there. In the pretend bonfire. Does Yvonne always go full-on feminist when she’s drunk?”
Fiona nodded. “When she’s sober too. You just haven’t been around her enough.” She glanced at the pile. “Remind me to grab mine out of there later. That’s my best strapless. Do you know how hard it is to find a strapless bra that holds the girls up just right?”
Asher shook his head. “Never considered it, but if you need some help holding the girls up right now…”
He reached over and she playfully swatted his hand away. Any other day, that type of teasing would have been followed by more, but it had the opposite effect tonight. Reminding them of why they were all still hanging around, why none of them had let themselves get too drunk.
Asher hadn’t even started the Anything Goes portion of the night.
“Should we play another game?” Asher suggested.
Fiona and Owen groaned in unison. “No more alcohol,” she pleaded.
“Not that kind of game. Truth or Dare.”
She laughed. “Fancy reliving your first boy-girl middle school party?”
“Truth or dare, Owen?” Asher asked, not acknowledging her joke. He prayed Owen chose wisely. There was something Asher needed to see, needed to know before the night went any further.
Owen paused for just a second, then said, “Dare.”
Asher took a deep breath and forced himself to issue the demand, even though he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted to see. “Kiss Fee.”
For all his hesitation and pregnant pauses all night, Owen didn’t waver this time. He simply reached over, cupped Fiona’s cheek to turn her face to his and kissed her. It reminded Asher of the steamy, openmouthed lip-lock he’d laid on her under the mistletoe.
When they parted, Fiona turned to look over her shoulder at him. He schooled his features because he didn’t want her to see anything that wasn’t there. Or anything that was. Like the spark of jealousy that told him tonight was going to be tough.
Owen had been right. They would have been smarter to drink more.
“Your turn, Owen,” Asher said, his eyes still locked with Fiona’s.
“Truth or dare, Fee.”
She licked her lips as she faced Owen once more. “Truth.”
Owen chuckled. “Chicken shit.”
She grinned but didn’t bother to deny it.
“Are you okay with this?” Owen asked.
Fiona blew out a long breath. “Should have taken the dare.”
“Tell me,” Owen repeated. Asher was grateful to his friend because he had the presence of mind to do what Asher had failed to do. Make sure Fiona was on board.
It took her a few seconds to reply and when she did, it was merely a nod.
“No,” Asher said, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Say the words, Fiona. Are you okay with what we want to happen here tonight?”
“It’s Anything Goes night. I thought we weren’t supposed to think about it or talk about it. Just go with what we want.”
“So we’re cheating,” Asher said. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded again. “Yes,” she whispered. “Truth or dare, Ash?”
“Dare,” he replied.
“Kiss me.” Then she held up her hand to stop him when he leaned toward her. “A re
al kiss. Longer than ten seconds. Mouths open. Tongues.”
Owen covered his mouth to hide the grin her demands produced. “In other words,” he added, “she doesn’t want a repeat of that weak-assed attempt you made the other night.”
“Laugh it up,” Asher said. “I’m perfectly aware of how to kiss a woman.”
He reached out and took her face in his hands, leaning forward to give Fiona the kiss he’d dreamed of for years…ever since he’d been that awkward, shy eighteen-year-old boy.
Fiona’s hands gripped his shoulders as he pressed her lips apart with his. He dipped his tongue in, the two of them snickering as they were assaulted by the taste of bacon. “Delicious,” he murmured just before he resumed the kiss. He reached for her hair, twisting the long strands around his fingers, tugging, slowly applying pressure until she gasped. Then he released her hair, his knuckles brushing her cheeks. She whimpered softly when he ran his fingertips over her neck and along the top of her dress, touching the silky skin at the top of her breasts.
Fiona pulled away first.
“Jesus, that was hot,” Owen muttered, prompting her to look over her shoulder at him.
Fiona’s gaze returned to Asher’s. “Truth or dare?”
“You just had your turn,” Asher replied.
At the same time, Owen said, “Who are you asking?”
“Both of you. Truth or dare?”
Asher glanced at Owen as they said in unison, “Dare.”
“Take me to the bedroom.”
7
Fiona fought down the butterflies in her stomach as they crossed the threshold to her bedroom.
“That’s problematic,” Owen said as the three of them faced the two single beds on opposite walls.
“Should have thought that through,” she said. “I mean…actually, I did earlier, but then I smelled the bacon frying and got distracted.”
“Good to know where we stand as far as the pecking order. After bacon. Duly noted,” Asher joked, prompting Fiona to laugh with him.
Owen was the only one who didn’t laugh. Instead, he locked gazes with Asher. “So, what’s next?”
It occurred to Fiona that Asher and Owen hadn’t discussed what was going to happen. Which made sense when she considered Asher’s demand that Anything Goes be instinctive, but stupid on every other level. She’d made the comment to her cousins that Asher and Owen didn’t really strike her as threesome kind of guys, and seeing Owen’s reticence now only solidified that belief.
Fiona opened her mouth, ready to let them both off the hook. It would kill her to sleep alone tonight because she hadn’t been kidding about her dry spell. At least she wasn’t sharing this room with any of her cousins. She could whip out her newest vibrator—the thruster. That bad boy had three speeds, seven functions, a clit stimulator and some serious girth. Happy Clam clenched at the thought of it.
So maybe it wouldn’t kill her to sleep alone.
Asher stepped behind her, embracing her as she rested against his chest. She’d never noticed how…hard…Asher was. And not just below the waist, though there was a telltale bulge brushing against her ass that told her he was hard all over.
What she hadn’t realized was how strong, how built he was. It wasn’t that he was a slouch. She knew he worked out, and on rare occasions, he’d joined her for a jog and had more than held his own. The difference was in the way he was holding her now. In the past, his hugs had been either friendly or comforting, softer, like a pillow she could sink into. This embrace was different. It was iron and steel, and there was a certain strength that spoke of possession, of passion.
It was hot.
She revised her previous opinion, back to believing it would kill her to sleep alone…vibrator or not.
Asher’s hands drifted up until he was cupping her breasts. Owen’s gaze followed his movements and a quick peek told Fiona that while both men might be a little bit reserved, it wasn’t impacting their arousal. Owen’s hard-on was apparent beneath his jeans.
Her face must have given away her current opinion on Operation Ménage a Trois because Owen smiled. Then he moved in front of her, leaned down and kissed her.
She was transported back in time to sophomore year. His kisses were just as sweet, just as gentle as they’d been back then.
And they were a far cry from Asher’s. His kiss on the couch… Holy fuck. It had hit every hot button in her body all at the same time.
Asher remained behind her as she and Owen kissed, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t completely aware of every move he made. He was still cupping her breasts, the silk of her ball gown a barrier. Not that it mattered. Everything Asher did packed a punch. His light cupping soon turned to something more as he tightened his grip, plumping the flesh in a way that had her going light-headed.
She broke the kiss with Owen for a split second, desperate to draw in some much-needed air. He reached up, taking her face in his hands, pulling her lips back to his, greedily.
Asher’s hands disappeared, but Owen didn’t give her a chance to complain about it. When she felt Asher searching for the zipper at the back of her dress, the protest died anyway.
Fiona liked sex—a lot—but her list of lovers was pretty short. She’d lost her virginity to the nephew of her parents’ drummer, in a relationship that could only be described as summer love. The handsome boy had joined them on the bus during his holiday from school, and she’d fallen head over ass as only a seventeen-year-old girl can do. It ended when September came. Then there’d been an unfortunate one-night stand her freshman year in college that she blamed on too much alcohol. Then Owen. Then Brock.
Four lovers.
If she didn’t include the countless sex toys stashed under her bed at home. Teddy had found the box once—nosy fucker—and acted like she was some sort of sex maniac. Told her she could open up a sex shop with her inventory.
Fiona sucked in a deep breath as the silence in the room was filled with the sound of Asher sliding the zipper down. Owen pulled away, his eyes drifting lower.
She tilted her head and gave him a sassy grin. “Now you stop kissing me?”
He winked at her. “Making sure I’ve got a good spot for the show.”
“You’ve seen it all before,” she reminded him.
Owen never bothered to look at her face. “I was young and stupid and too worried about getting my rocks off to pay attention to the finer details.”
Asher released his hold on the zipper tab, and the entire dress simply fell to the floor. She’d tugged off her bra for Yvonne’s fake bonfire earlier, which left her in just a thong.
Up until that moment, everything had felt…easy. Controllable.
But now that she was standing in front of her completely dressed best friends, almost totally naked, a kernel of unease slipped in. Ordinarily, Fiona’s self-confidence was firmly in place, a staple that never faltered. Ailis had told her once that it might be easier if she actually toned back her convictions, her belief in herself and her abilities, but Fiona was smart enough to understand that only made things easier for other people, not her.
Now, however, for one of the few times in her life, she was struggling to stand with poise without worrying what they thought.
Well, not Owen so much. He was a bit like a loveable puppy dog who operated solely on pure adoration. She could see it now as his gaze raked her from head to toe, his expression one of appreciation. Something he backed up with a wolf whistle.
“You’re still the hottest girl on the planet.”
She giggled, wishing those words would sink in, would dim the flutter in her belly, but they didn’t. Because Asher was behind her, and she couldn’t see his face, couldn’t tell…
“Turn around, Fee.”
God, when had Asher’s voice gotten so grumbly and deep and sexy as fuck?
She took a deep breath, then twisted to face him.
Unlike Owen, his expressions were harder to read. There was no denying the hunger, the desire she saw there, but she need
ed him to say something. Anything.
She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until his eyes met hers.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. One look said it all.
She licked her lips, her lungs burning from a lack of air.
When did she forget how to breathe?
Asher saved her. He pressed his lips to hers and she realized air wasn’t necessary. All she needed in that moment, in that place and time, was him. To hell with the rest.
She started slightly when Owen took over Asher’s role, stepping behind her. His hands landed on her hips briefly before they started to roam, over her waist, then down to the bare globes of her ass. He caressed and squeezed and touched. Owen’s finger traced the line of her thong from where it began low on her hips until it disappeared between the slit of her thighs.
Through it all, Asher kissed her. No, he devoured her—with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. His hands gripped her face, turning her slightly whenever he wanted to deepen the kiss even more.
When his fingers curled into fists, grasping her hair, she moaned into his mouth. The sound must have spurred him on, because the grip tightened and he pulled. Hard.
Her scalp burned, then tingled, but Fiona didn’t seek freedom. Her hands rested on his chest before she moved them up to his face, using the single drop of strength she had left to push his mouth away from hers just long enough to say, “Harder.”
It was Asher’s turn to groan. He gave her what she wanted, but there was something in his eyes that told him she was getting her way because it was what he desired.
Fiona was taken aback by the beast she’d unleashed.
Her costume suddenly seemed perfect.
Fiona struggled to assimilate this intense, demanding alpha male with her affable, sweet friend. The crazy part was…this side of Asher had always been there, so her shock seemed misplaced.
He’d always taken charge of the writing team, keeping them on track, guiding them through dry spells, speaking on their behalf to the producers and director. But he always tempered the strength and made it seem less threatening, which, in turn, made him the perfect spokesperson. Everyone genuinely liked Asher, but no one would ever call him a pushover.
