by Cari Quinn
He helped her sit up just in time for Tris to reach the end of the line.
Groaning, mindless, his best friend jerked himself off, obviously ready to spill into his own fist. But Juliet scampered forward and closed her mouth over the head of Tris’s shaft just as he exploded, her eyes flaring wide before she shut them on a moan and swallowed.
And swallowed and swallowed.
Randy turned away to go grab some tissues before his dick got any not-so-bright ideas.
She was swallowing Tris’s cum while she still had Randy’s in her throat. And Jesus, that shouldn’t have been hot, but it so was.
He’d never imagined anything hotter.
Okay, yeah, time to divert his thoughts before his eager cock demanded more.
After he cleaned up and took care of business, he returned to find Tris and Juliet slumped against each other on the bed. They were both sitting up, but barely.
Randy couldn’t help laughing. “Naptime?”
“Dude, it’s gotta be like four am. Pretty soon the sun’s gonna be strong enough to shine through those curtains and I’m gonna be pissed.”
“Needs his beauty sleep,” Randy said to Juliet, who balefully opened one eye. Then she chuckled weakly at what Randy held in his hand.
“Tissues aren’t going to do it. I need another shower.”
“Nah, hang on.” Randy went back into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a wet washcloth. “Lie back against the pillows,” he told Juliet, who obeyed with little fuss. Tris stretched out beside her, watching avidly as Randy wiped up her breasts and belly.
And of course, he also got hard. Because apparently, Juliet was his version of Viagra. They both were, her and Tris, when they got together.
Weird? Yes, more than a little. But one-nighters didn’t have to be explained, right?
“Thanks.” Juliet yawned and plumped up her pillow before scooting back into Tristan. He gave her a one-armed hug and she giggled before stretching out a hand to Randy. “Sleep time.”
Nodding, Randy turned out the lights. When he started searching for his boxers before crawling in—he must’ve kicked them under the bed—Juliet laughed. “We’re all naked, silly. So you too.”
So you too.
Was that how they saw him? As an add-on? An okay addition, because hey, it’s just a one-time party?
Was that how he saw himself?
“Sparks,” Juliet chided him in the darkness. “Get in the damn bed already. My feet are cold.”
He grinned. He was just overthinking. Again. Fun was fun, and sex was sex. He’d had a great night and maybe he’d gained a new friend. If so, he couldn’t question anything that had happened.
“Anytime now, Sparky,” Tris put in, making Randy laugh.
He also had his best friend, and that was a hell of a lot.
Randy rolled into bed and clasped Juliet’s hand against his stomach as soon as she offered it. Her affection was so easy and natural.
Soon, her breathing turned rhythmic, and he took the chance of sliding their joined hands up closer to his heart.
He might not be able to say half the shit in his head, but he could hold her hand in the darkness and be fucking grateful he’d had this night at all.
She’d asked for it to be a secret. Tris had made it clear one night was all that was on the agenda. So because he cared about them more than was wise, he waited until dawn broke more fully across the sky.
And like a damn thief, crept out in his boxers, with his jeans and his shirt under his arm.
Nine
Juliet slid her hand along the sheets. Empty, cool sheets. A warm body curled around her from behind, his heavy arm draped over her hip. She was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid to see just which man had left and which had stayed.
Was it over now?
She’d gotten her promised one night. A blur of hands and mouths and smoky promises made in the shadows. As if she had any right to ask for more.
She shifted, hissing softly at the tenderness between her thighs. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting—relief that her V-card was officially in ashes? Or was it more complicated than that?
How could she want two men at the same time?
It truly was the sixty-four-million-dollar question. Because there wasn’t an answer. She’d thought Tristan had been enough. When he touched her, she felt more than she had in forever.
Was she tempting fate by asking for more? Better yet, asking for two?
Opening her eyes would force her to face the questions buzzing under her skin. Did she want to find Tristan beside her, or Sparks?
I want both.
She closed her eyes even tighter, not letting even a sliver of sun inside. She didn’t want to know.
Didn’t want to be disappointed.
Maybe the other one was getting a coffee and she wouldn’t have to face that decision just yet.
A hand slid up her body to cup her breast. She knew his touch already. The combination of roughness and confidence. She gasped and arched, straining for more. Disappointment blurred into pleasure.
She loved Tristan’s touch. It had started her night off so well, but she couldn’t deny that she missed Sparks. His solid watchfulness and perfect timing wound her up just as much as Tris’s dominant possession.
He hardened behind her. All he’d need to do was reach back for a condom and then she’d find the pleasure she’d known the night before. Nothing but pleasure.
But he didn’t.
His touch was languid and unhurried. The calluses on his fingers were in different spots than Sparks’s. Along the palm where his knife rubbed, at the very tips where his blade cut too close.
He used them to smooth over her ribs to her belly, but the light abrasions stopped at the top of her pussy. He tipped into her seam, but no lower. She pushed back on him restlessly, only to feel his fingers sliding back up to her breast. He cupped it, then dragged his palm over her nipple.
She groaned out his name, low and soft as a breath.
He smiled against her neck. “Good morning.” His voice was a rumble and her body instantly reacted. Just like last night.
“Hi.”
He brought his hand back down between her thighs, this time brushing over her swollen center. “Sore?”
She hissed as he dipped his fingertips inside. “A little.”
“Want me to stop?”
She rolled her hips slowly, following his easy strokes. Nothing to it. It wasn’t weird. It didn’t have to be weird now that the room felt just a little emptier.
Stop thinking about Sparks.
She reached up to grab the headboard and he ducked under her arm to buzz his scruff against the side of her breast.
His cock firmed and lengthened behind her. Made to slip inside her. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the other hands that swiped down her body as she’d done this very thing—if in a different position—last night.
Another warm chest pressing up against her back as Tristan slid inside.
“You miss him.”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
She didn’t sound guilty. That would be stupid.
And accurate.
“Your other hand is reaching across the bed.”
“No, I…” She didn’t know what to say. Was it pure greed talking? It had been all about her last night.
“It’s okay.” He tucked her hair around her ear and nestled her into the crook of his body. He slid his arms around her waist and tucked his chin into her neck. “I didn’t hear him leave either. When I first woke up, I thought maybe he’d gone out for food.”
“When was that?”
His arm slid up and under her head to wrap around her front. She groaned, but not from the sex this time. Okay, maybe a little—because hello, he was still hard behind her—but his touch was comforting rather than arousing at that very moment. It just so happened she was a little sore all over from last night’s acrobatics, and shifting the slightest bit reminded her of�
�well, everything.
Tris nuzzled her neck. “First time I woke up, it was near dawn and he was already gone.” He lowered his other arm around her lower belly. “You were so warm that I couldn’t pull myself out of bed.”
She couldn’t help but smile. She’d known it was one night and just one, but it felt wrong that it had only been Tris inside of her. That Sparks hadn’t gotten to play.
Sure. That’s the reason.
“But he didn’t come back.”
“No.” Tris cupped her shoulder, the soft hairs of his arm teasing her nipples.
Juliet drew her nails along his forearm. “Do you think he’s mad?”
“I don’t know.” He kissed her temple. “Knowing him, he had to go figure some shit out.”
“Yeah.” She gave a small laugh. “I sure didn’t think this was how I’d end the night.”
“No?” He tugged on her ear. “I knew I’d have you naked, just didn’t know I’d have company.”
“Cocky bastard.”
He tweaked her nipple. “Same cock you rode last night.”
She swallowed. That she had. She could still feel him inside her. Stretched in a way she’d never been.
Before she could give in to the urge to melt into him again, Tris sat up and dragged her with him. “You need a little down time. If I cuddle up to this luscious ass any longer, I’m going to fuck away whatever bit of gentlemanly gene I own.”
That didn’t sound like a bad idea, but she couldn’t deny a little twinge of relief under the stirring lust.
He cupped her face. “I want this again.”
She frowned. “You do?”
Tristan brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. “I don’t regret last night at all. Nothing about it.”
Her ashen V-card was unsaid, but she knew what he meant. “I don’t either. It’s just a little weird. Like I…”
What? That she was missing something? She was. She was missing him.
The man who hadn’t even been on her radar until last night.
Sparks—Randy—hadn’t ever been anything but in the background. The guy who was always there to make sure the lights worked and who would forever wear the nickname Sparks because of that one night.
She shuddered. The fire and the smoke, the spray of embers that had arced over him that night at the Blue Rhino. No, she’d never forget that, or that he’d raced to make sure everything was fixed.
Even when she’d screamed at him as the mix of adrenaline and fear had crawled under her skin like fire ants. He’d made sure that everyone was safe before getting out. She couldn’t say the same about his technical crew. They’d all left, but he’d stayed.
Tristan’s hand slid down to press against her chest. “Like you are missing something in this equation?”
She blinked out of the memories. “Yeah.” She rubbed her cheek against his other hand that still cupped her. She wanted to purr into his touch, but she managed not to, even when his long, perfect fingers slid into her hair and kneaded the back of her neck.
“I get it.”
She opened her eyes slowly, letting Tris come into focus. “I’m glad one of us does.”
“Say the word and I’ll push you back onto this bed and let off enough steam for three people.”
She swallowed hard and licked her lips.
“Fuck, don’t do that. I’m trying to be gallant, for fuck’s sake.”
“Really? Just two seconds ago you told me you were ready to go again.”
He looked down between them. “I think that part’s obvious.”
She licked her lips again and shifted to brush her thumb over the deep blush-colored head of his cock. The guys had sort of taken over last night and she hadn’t gotten a chance to explore.
“But last night was incredible. And I wouldn’t say no to it again, if Rand comes around.”
Big if there.
She placed her hand on Tris’s belly and dragged it up to his chest. Helluva lot safer up there. It was only supposed to be this one night. Just an incredible way to get rid of her pesky virginity. But God, the flashes of them together wouldn’t stop rolling through her head. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Just say maybe.”
She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Maybe.”
“Simple as that.” He leaned in and touched her mouth with his. Not the growling kiss from the night before. This was friendly and light.
The knots she hadn’t realized were forming instantly eased. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thanks for being so cool about this.”
“Not so cool, trust me.” He groaned in her ear. “I’m only a man. And fuck, your tits are amazing.”
She laughed and pushed him off the bed. “Go on.”
He lowered his shoulders in mock rejection and gave her a pouty glance over his shoulder.
“Not falling for it.” Though she did spare a glance at his spectacular ass as she pulled up the sheet to cover her chest.
He stepped into his jeans. “Had to try.” Then he slid them up over his hips, tucking himself away.
Again, the whole commando thing, still hot.
“You can take a shower if you want.”
“Nah. I think I’d like to smell like you a little bit longer.” He grinned and grabbed his costume. Before he went out the door, he backtracked to the small desk in the corner of her room. He scribbled something on the pad.
“Love note?”
“Phone number. I can write love texts, but I’m better at the dirty ones.”
She laughed. “Get out.”
He saluted her and ducked out the door. She fell back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling.
Holy fuck, she was toast.
She didn’t remember falling back asleep, but she woke to pounding on the door.
She winced at the sunlight that meant it was definitely way past noon. She was supposed to be out of there already. A few of her bandmates from Warning Sign had been at the party, but most hadn’t opted for a bedroom. So who the hell was knocking?
Her heart skipped. Sparks?
No.
She shook her head and stumbled out of bed to grab a T-shirt from her bag. She dragged on a pair of yoga pants as the door vibrated under a fist. “What the hell?”
“Up and at ‘em.”
“West?” She swung the door open. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer your phone. I came a lookin’.” West Reynolds—their keyboard player, and her all around pain in the ass best friend—strode in. He tucked an ever present lock of sun and ocean-bleached hair behind his ear. The rest was in a messy tail down the middle of his back.
“Come on in.” She slammed the door shut.
He threw her a grin. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Though it’s not like you to have the just-fucked look.” He swung around and squinted at her, letting out a long whistle. “Whoa, called that right. Jules, you got turbo-fucked last night, didn’t you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
She hadn’t quite gotten to turbo, thank you very much.
He climbed onto one of the padded wing chairs by the window, perching on the top as he propped his elbows on his knees. “Dude, I know that look. I gave a lucky lady that look last night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Pig.” She pushed her crazy hair back. Two pairs of male hands had been decidedly un-gentle with her hair last night.
And she’d loved it.
Okay, she’d been pretty close to turbo-fucked. If that was a thing. Maybe it was just West’s perverted male mind that had created that term. But even as she walked through her room, she couldn’t deny that her entire body felt different.
She’d figured her virginity was just a technicality. Not so much. She felt used and abused in the very best way possible. And if she hadn’t gotten weird with Tristan this morning, she might still be enjoying herself.
Except that Sparks had sneaked out, and now everything was just off.
“You s
ure everything’s cool?”
“What?” Juliet blinked out of her thoughts. “Yes, of course. Just a late night. Little too much fun.”
“Well, while you were having fun, we have had meltdown number three and four.”
She sagged onto the bed. “What now?”
“Today’s instigator was Molly. She thinks Mal is a thug, and I’m incompetent. Oh, and Michael is the devil’s spawn. It was a good day.”
“We didn’t even have a practice today.”
“We did. Why I was calling you, dollface.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s tomorrow.”
“Lila got us a gig, which means practice today and tomorrow. We need to get a few of the newer songs down. Like the one Michael wrote with Elle.”
Juliet crossed her legs. “No wonder she’s bitching.”
West just arched a brow in question.
“Not her song. She loses interest if it isn’t one of the songs she wrote.”
“Meow.”
Juliet rose and crossed to the bathroom. She loaded up her toothbrush with toothpaste. “Eh, it is what it is. Like I love every song?” She brushed away the champagne and…the rest of last night out of her mouth. She still couldn’t believe all that she’d done.
Actually, even more incredible was the with whom part.
Sparks.
Randy Pruitt.
Tristan had been a nearly foregone conclusion after they’d met backstage. They’d been dancing around each other for a while, and last night, everything had lined up just right. When it came to him, all her girl parts lit up like the Golden Gate Bridge, but Sparks?
No, she hadn’t seen that one coming. At all.
Sparks was hot, all right. No problem there. She’d noticed how attractive he was, but she’d never thought he was for her. They were too different. Incompatible.
Now all she could think about was him taking her, with Tris right by his side. Or at her back. She wasn’t choosy.
She banged around in the bathroom until she found her floss, then rinsed the last of the funk out of her mouth with her travel mouthwash.
Flashes of Sparks’s face, his corded neck straining as he came on her—all of it was twisted with Tristan’s possessive gaze. Tristan’s bold touch. Sparks’s reserved moments followed by moments of intensity.
