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Drew’s hand slides across my stomach and up over my ribs to grip my shoulder, pulling me upright without pulling me away from Bailey. His arm wraps tight around me as he brings our bodies together, his thick erection already slick and sliding up across my ass.
“Cooper.” My name is nothing but a gasp when he says it like that, but I hear the question in it. He’s already covered and slick with lube—he knows what I want. Maybe better than I do.
“Do it,” I tell him, hooking an arm around his neck to pull him down with me so the three of us are breathing the same air. Bailey’s eyes are wide, hot with want as she watches our faces.
“You’re sure?” he asks. She looks at me. I can feel them both waiting. I think they must want it as much as I do.
“I’m sure. Hurry up, Drew. Fuck us.”
22
Bailey
Drew looks as overwhelmed as I feel in the wake of Cooper’s proclamation. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve only seen that look on his face a couple of times.
‘Course, if anybody could bring it on, it’s Cooper.
Never in my wildest dreams did I actually think we’d end up here. Fantasies maybe, but nobody ever expects a fantasy to happen in real life. Cooper’s gone totally still, but I can feel him pulsing inside me. Part of me wants to scream at them for stopping but a bigger part is hooked on what I think is going to happen next. Except what I think is about to happen is the kind of thing that only happens in porn.
So I hear.
If this all turns out to be some crazy fever dream and I wake up in my own bed at home alone, I won’t be surprised one bit.
Drew shakes off his hesitation, or maybe he just can’t wait anymore, because he produces a condom and bottle of lube out of thin air, making quick work of them both. Bracing one hand on the bed beside our bodies, he keeps his eyes on Cooper’s back as he goes to work opening him up.
Above me, Cooper’s eyes slam shut and he moans.
“Okay?” asks Drew.
“I’m fine,” snarls Cooper. “I’m good. Keep going.” Drew’s lips twitch. For all he gripes about Cooper, he sure seems to enjoy the snark. Under the circumstances, I guess I can’t blame him.
My knuckles bump Coop’s stomach, spoiling my attempt at covertly getting a hand between my legs. His eyes open, narrowing on me.
“Are you touching yourself?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, shifting up on his hands to give me room.
“I’m not,” I lie, mostly to distract him. He smirks. Drew watches us, the hint of a smile turning to a grin.
“Liar,” says Cooper. “Do it again.”
“I don’t—”
“Now, I know you were not about to tell me you don’t do that kind of thing,” says Cooper. Drew does something good with his hands and Coop’s voice catches on the last word. He takes a deep breath to compose himself. “I happen to know you better than that, Ross.”
“You think so, huh?”
Cooper’s grin turns wicked.
“Do you not remember the night we—”
I slap a hand over his mouth, cutting off his words. He sucks at my fingertips in retaliation, making all my muscles clench, including the ones clamped around his body. It sets off a chain reaction: my moaning, Cooper’s groan as he thrusts into me.
“Uh-oh. Keeping secrets?” asks Drew, meeting my eyes over Cooper’s shoulder. Coop’s eyes are still closed. Whatever Drew’s up to must feel awfully good, if the look on Coop’s face is any indication. My face is hot with arousal and just a hint of embarrassment.
“Not exactly,” I say. “Do you remember me telling you about a drunken striptease?” They both freeze, staring at me.
“That was Cooper?”
“You told him about that?” This from Coop.
