Candy Ever After (Hot Candy Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  “Oh my God, Joey!” Insert squeal. “I had no idea it was so serious already. That was fast!” Second squeal. “That’s so romantic, holy crap.” A sigh. And then, “Mom and Dad will have a coronary.”

  I wince. “Ugh.”

  “Or aren’t they coming to the party after all?” A hopeful note has crept into Evie’s voice.

  “I haven’t talked to them yet.”

  “Not yet? The party is in a few days.”

  “I’m going to talk to them tomorrow.” I push hair out of my eyes. “Do you think your friend can get the rings ready by then?”

  “I’ll ask and let you know. In any case…” Her voice softens. “I’m happy for you, Joey.”

  A smile tugs at my mouth. “Thanks. Call me when you know, all right?”

  “Sure thing.”

  The sense of contentment lingers as I climb into my car and drive away. Yeah, I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. Out in the open. No more secrets. No more hiding.

  No longer feeling I’m failing by not conforming to expectations. No longer worried about what people will say.

  The apartment is quiet when I get home, and I stand in the living room for a moment, letting it soak in. The quiet. The warmth. The peace. The sense of belonging. Of home.

  Then I hear Jet’s voice rumbling from the bedroom, Candy’s reply like a bird warble. Tossing my keys in the bowl, shrugging off my jacket, I head that way. I’m grinning already at the thought of seeing them. I’ve missed them since morning.

  I start at the realization. Fuck, I miss them every moment we spend apart. Not in an obsessive, can’t-breathe-without-them way, no. It’s a sweet sting of pain, realizing that nowhere else can I be as complete as when I am by their side.

  My grin has faded to a smile by the time I reach the bedroom door, and I’m already toeing off my shoes. “Hey guys, you here? I told my parents I’ll swing by tomorrow to talk…”

  Whoa.

  “Come in, J,” Candy says.

  I’m staring. Wait, am I asleep and dreaming? Is this one of those dreams that have me waking up gasping, my dick rock hard and my balls aching?

  … It’s a maybe. I mean, why else would Candy be dressed in a bra that’s barely covering her nipples and a thong, and why would Jet be naked and holding two dildos, right?

  Only then they turn toward me and jump off the bed to drag me back to it, Jet’s grip painfully tight on my arm, and Candy’s nails biting into my flesh a little.

  Same thing as pinching myself, right? This isn’t a dream.

  “Welcome home,” Candy whispers, tugging on my sweater. “We missed you.”

  It echoes my thoughts from earlier, and I want to tell her that, but she’s pulling my sweater and T-shirt over my head and I lift my arms to aid her. It’s not cold. They must have cranked the heating up.

  “You’re home late,” Jet mutters. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  That stops me short. “Is it an anniversary or something?”

  He waves the two dildos at me and grins wolfishly. “It’s your initiation night.”

  And finally the pieces click into place. The dildos. Jet’s talk of trying sex toys on me.

  Oh shit.

  “Kiss me,” Candy says, and takes my mind off the oh-shit litany that’s getting louder and louder in my brain. Her lips are soft and her tits press into my now naked chest, her hands sliding up my pecs.

  Warm like a marshmallow hot from the fire, her eyes smoky with desire, her mouth sweet. I pour everything I feel, everything I’ve been thinking of, into the kiss, until we’re both breathless and I’m hardening fast. Her hand slides down the middle of my chest, dropping to the bulge in my pants, and I hiss at the jolt of pleasure just from that light touch.

  Jet slides behind Candy and turns her around, shooting me a heavy-lidded look. “Clothes off. And watch. You’re allowed to touch yourself, but not to come.”

  Bossy. It’s a new side of Jet in bed, and although my first reaction is to take over and be the one to move the strings in this game, I obey, undoing my zipper and pushing down my pants and briefs, letting my dick swing free. It’s semi-hard and I fist it, shuddering.

  As they start kissing and groping each other, I forget about everything else and jack off, groaning when Jet pulls Candy on his lap and they work his dick together, their hands moving over it.

  I forget myself, my thoughts and worries, my focus on the pleasurable ache as I stroke my cock and watch Jet and Candy get it on—as he takes off her bra and lowers his head to suck on her nipples.

  God, yeah. “More,” I breathe, leaning back and planting a hand on the mattress as I work my dick faster, harder. “Make her come, Jet.”

  He lifts his head, his gaze dark like spilled ink. “Then take your hand off your dick.”

  “… what?” I’m panting, caught in the oncoming swell, my hand too tight around my weeping dick. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “No touching. No jacking off. No coming.” He winks, and it’s not fucking funny. “Not yet.”

  I look down at my fingers wrapped around my hard-on. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because we get to play with you afterward.”

  “Dammit, fucker…” I glance sideways at the bottle of lube and the dildos Jet has placed on the other side of him. “Play, huh?”

  “That okay?”

  Is it?

  I asked him, practically begged him to fuck me the other night, and shit, I gotta admit his finger in my ass felt fucking fantastic. The dildos, though… They’re damn big. Much bigger than his finger. And his dick is even bigger than that.

  When he takes my dick, though, he comes so hard. He seems to really like it.

  “That a yes?” Jet whispers, and I take a deep breath before nodding.

  “Yeah.”

  My first reaction is to say fuck this and jack off until I come, but I’m curious… Way too curious, gripped by a sick fascination at what it will feel like, having them shove a dildo into my ass and make me come that way…

  … and shit, the image both disturbs me and excites me more.

  I lean back on my elbows, watching as Jet pushes into Candy and they start rocking together, my fucking dick bobbing over my stomach, dripping and twitching.

  Candy moans Jet’s name. He slides his hands under her legs, lifting her and lowering her on his cock, his hips rocking up as he fucks her. Sweat shines on his face and shoulders. They kiss, stolen, violent clashes of teeth and lips, as they move faster, chasing their release.

  Fuck, I won’t make it. Can a guy come just from watching others have sex, without jerking off?

  Their soft groans, the urgency of their movements, the way Candy’s tits bounce a little as she leans back, her hands on Jet’s shoulders, damn…

  I shift back on my ass, my hands clenching on the covers, trying not to think of the need to come. My stomach is clenched so tight it feels bruised. My dick twitches again, hard like an iron bar, hot and wet and hurting.

  “You don’t. Come. Just yet,” Jet pants, glancing at me, his eyes black whirlpools, his normally spiky hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Not yet.”

  “I got it.” I grit my teeth, wondering why I’m playing along to this game Jet invented—but I know why. I trust him. I trust him to know what I need. Just like I take care of him outside the bedroom, he takes care of me in bed, giving me what I crave without knowing it.

  I’m very good at ignoring what I need even when it’s staring me in the face, as my past has proven. So I stay still, moaning between my teeth, trying to cool down by thinking of ugly stuff like wars and famines and my old calculus professor, and failing miserably.

  A whine leaves Candy’s lips, and her eyes flutter closed, her rhythm faltering. “Oh God,” she whispers, “Oh God.”

  Jet grunts a curse, his hands on her hips tight, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he thrusts upward, one, two, three more times, and then shudders as he comes, too.

  I can’t fucki
ng breathe as I watch them clutch at each other, riding the aftershocks, their naked bodies shiny and beautiful, their faces slack with pleasure.

  My body and my mind both want them, and it’s killing me that I’m supposed to sit back and wait.

  Fuck that. Enough waiting. The dildos can wait for another night, and I’m gonna—

  “J.” Candy lifts herself off Jet, and his cum runs in a shiny path down her inner thigh. I sometimes wonder what would happen if the pill she’s on fails and we make a baby.

  I blink. Damn funny, the path my thoughts are going down these days. Damn funny that instead of fear or shock I feel… happy. With the thought of marrying Candy and Jet. With the thought of babies.

  Hell.

  And… hold on.

  Candy is stalking on all fours toward me, while Jet wipes himself clean with his discarded T-shirt and moves to the other side of me.

  Nervousness is eating at me. Probably why I haven’t come yet. How are we doing this?

  Then Jet hands Candy a dildo.

  She sits back and spreads her legs, and oh fuck. I lick my lips. My throat is too dry. In contrast to her pussy that’s dripping with Jet’s cum. The dildo is a deep blue silicone, the head flared.

  She teases her entrance with it, moaning softly. “Still watching, J?”

  I sure am. I love watching, and I can’t stop, but this… This is turning into torture.

  “I need to come,” I hiss between clenched teeth. “I need to be inside you, not that thing.”

  In reply, she pushes it inside her, and I gulp as it becomes swallowed by her pussy. She gasps, her thumb finding her clit and pressing on it. Her mouth falls open.

  Hot damn… Whoa.

  “Feels so good,” she whispers, looking at me from under lowered lashes.

  “I betcha my dick would feel much better,” I grumble, unable to catch my breath. “Hotter.”

  She moans and I jerk when Jet hands me something.

  The nipple suckers. We haven’t used them in a while. Candy’s breath catches when she sees them.

  “Oh crap…” she mumbles, pulling on the dildo, then pushing it back inside. “Do it.”

  “You hate me,” I tell Jet as I put the suckers on her nipples and she moans out loud, her eyes closing. “I’ve done something wrong and you won’t fucking tell me, instead you decided to torture me by not letting me come.”

  He chuckles. “Fuck her with the dildo, J.”

  “Jet, goddammit…” My dick is dripping, my balls feel ten sizes too big, and I can’t take this any longer.

  “Do it.”

  So I place my hand over Candy’s, over the base of the dildo, and start fucking her with it. I’m rougher than she is, pulling it out and shoving it back inside harder, and she splays her legs wider, her breathless moans telling me she’s getting close again.

  I groan, aching. The sight is enough to make a machine lose control, and I’m a hot-blooded guy. My other hand inches down my stomach to my cock. “Jet…”

  He pushes it away, his dark eyes amused. “No touching. I’ll make you come like this.”

  It isn’t funny. “Like what?”

  His mouth curls up on one side as he dribbles lube on his fingers, then nudges my left leg further. I slam my hand back on the mattress, not to topple backward. “Like this,” he says and slides a warm, slippery finger over my balls and behind them, into my ass.

  “Holy shit, don’t…” Not sure what I wanna say. The pressure is insistent, his finger breaching me easily, pushing into me, massaging. His other hand rests on top of my thigh, warm, reassuring. The pressure increases, then something inside me ignites and pleasure sparks deep, drawing a hoarse shout from my throat.

  Fuck. I can’t think. “Jet…” His name seems to be the only word I remember.

  I let go of the dildo lodged in Candy’s pussy in favor of having both hands on the bed, too unsteady and fuzzy-brained to focus on anything else but Jet’s finger in my ass.

  He hums, and withdraws his finger from me, then lifts a black, slim dildo and smothers it with lube. I’m getting nervous again.

  Candy distracts me when she cups my face and starts kissing me. “I’m going to come,” she whispers against my lips, gasping. “Oh wow.”

  I feel the tremors going through her as she does, and I kiss her again, desperate for something to take my mind off my throbbing cock.

  But she leans back, lost in her orgasm, the dildo deep inside her pussy, her hips lifting and falling.

  Jet leans over me, replacing her mouth with his, his kiss rough and hot as he pushes the dildo into my ass.

  His mouth on mine is the only thing stopping me from yelling at the shock of it. The dildo is warm and slippery and damn big. Also, as Jet cants it and moves it in and out, it starts to feel so fucking good, I moan deep in my chest.

  Jet lifts his head, giving me a heated look. “You’re goddamn sexy, J. Let go.”

  “I can’t…” I’m panting so hard I’m dizzy. My dick feels ready to explode, and that dildo in my ass is making me crazy. The pressure is fucking incredible, but every time I reach for my hard-on, Jet slaps my hand away. “Please.”

  He smirks, works me a bit harder until I think I’ll die of the relentless pleasure, every thrust of the dildo sending a sparkle of fire through my dick.

  Lost in sensation, I barely realize when he puts a hand on my cock. I jerk when he closes his fingers around it and squeezes, then pumps it.

  Just once.

  And I come.

  Holy shit, do I come.

  All over myself, and the bed, yelling and bucking. At some point, my hands give out and I fall back, on the pillows, my hips still jerking, the damn dildo still in my ass.

  Only one thought makes it past the buzzing emptiness inside my head as I lie there, sated, limp, and still shaking.

  So this is what it’s like?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jethro

  I dream a lot.

  A whole fucking lot, even if I sleep too little. I dream of the past, of blood and blades, of pain and terror, of all the bad endings I could have had.

  And then I dream of my lovers, of touching them, kissing them, sinking into them, and I can see no endings, only beginnings, and all of them good.

  These dreams give me hope.

  Fuck me, that was so hot.

  Joel is sprawled on the bed, arms and legs flung wide, head thrown back on the pillows, his chest covered in his cum.

  He shivers when I pull the black dildo out and toss it on the bed.

  Christ. My late night fantasies just got way filthier. Hey, I’m often awake during the night, and despite what Candy and Joel think, I don’t always sit drawing or watching TV. Jacking off goes some way in making up for the terror of the nightmares and the exhaustion the insomnia leaves behind.

  I’m hard again, but I’ll just rub one out in the shower. I definitely need a shower, and I should drag J and Candy with me, too. We’re all covered in cum and sweat.

  Hold on, maybe not together, or we’ll never go to bed tonight. And I need to sleep. The lack of sleep is starting to catch up with me.

  I make as if to get up, but Candy stops me with a hand on my chest. She leans in and gives me a quick kiss.

  “You rock, Jethro Connors.”

  The full use of my name has me caught between wincing and laughing. “You, too, Sugar Babe.”

  “Me too,” J mumbles from his boneless sprawl, one blue eye cracking open.

  “You too, what? You rock?”

  “No. I want a kiss.”

  Damn. Joel rarely lets his guard down so much. Something sweet and hot unfurls in my chest. Candy shoots me a wide-eyed look. We both bend over him and he wraps his arms around us, so that we take turns kissing him.

  That, of course, makes my not-so-little problem worse. I gasp when Joel drags me closer, trapping my hard dick between our bodies.

  He’s so far gone, he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s drunk on post-orgasmic endorphins. He tur
ns toward me, his mouth descending on mine, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, and oh fuck, I’m so close, I think I…

  “Fuck,” I hiss in his mouth as my dick jerks and I come against his side, grunting and rutting, unable to help it.

  He laughs, a low rumble of laughter, and Candy drapes herself over him, trying to see what happened.

  “What are you boys up to?”

  “Jet just came all over me.” Joel captures my grumble with his mouth, giving me another thorough kiss before I manage to pull back.

  “I need to shower. If not I’ll get so stuck on you, you’ll need pliers to pull me off.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to pull you off,” Joel whispers. “Either of you. Maybe I want you both stuck on me.”

  I blink, something hot stinging my eyes and poking at my heart. “Yeah, but maybe not literally.”

  “And if I did? If I wanted more, if I—”

  “No. Fuck, no, don’t say shit you don’t mean, J. You just came like a fucking freight-train. You’re high. Don’t say something you’ll regret.”

  “The hell. I won’t regret—”

  I roll off the bed, barely landing on my feet. “I’m going to shower.”

  “What do you mean, J? About being stuck?” Candy whispers, a weird nervousness in her voice, but I can’t quite focus on that now because I’m too busy having a mini freak out.

  And why am I freaking out? For reading between the lines? Joel loves me, loves us. No post-orgasmic and later regretted statement will change that.

  Maybe it’s because deep inside I want this. I want to hear him say it, after all his doubts and backpedaling. I want his commitment, his fucking promise that he won’t leave again.

  And it scares me to hell.

  So I start toward the bathroom just as pretty black dots start dancing in front of my eyes. I wave a hand at them, like that will make them go away, and stumble. My knees wobble, like, what the fuck? And I start going down.

  “Jet!” Joel’s voice seems to come from far away, and Candy squeals something I can’t make out because the darkness closing over me apparently also blots out sound.

  I’m floating for an endless second, weightless, suspended in void.

  Then gravity slams back into me and I find myself on the floor, leaning against Joel’s chest—I know it’s him, I know his scent—and Candy’s hands on my face.