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Joey's head fell back, her beautiful tits on display as she arched her back. "Fuck." She bounced on my dick, desperate for her release. I grabbed her giant tits in my hand, twisting her nipples. "Yes, pull my nipples. Oh baby, that feels so good," Joey screamed. "Bite them."
As soon as my teeth grazed Joey's nipple, I felt her tighten around my dick, but then once I bit, she screamed, coming all over my cock. That was all I needed before I unloaded right into her hot pussy. "Sit on my face."
Joey smirked at me as she climbed off my dick and started to walk on the bed to position herself over my face. Looking up, I could see her pussy full of both my come and hers. I'd never eaten her out after sex before, but at that moment, there was nothing I wanted more. Just as she was about to place her hot center on my tongue, a blob of my come leaked out, landing on my tongue.
"Fuck," I groaned, delving my tongue into her.
Joey moaned, pushing her pussy farther onto my face. "I'm gonna come again."
"Come for me, sweetheart. Give me all that sweet pussy juice. Drench me with your come." I worked my tongue all the way from her entrance to her clit before I pressed the tip directly on her clit and heard Joey scream.
When she was done, she climbed off of me and collapsed into my arms. "Wow."
I pulled Joey to me, her body resting on my own. "You can say that again."
"Wonder where Jack went?"
"He probably went for a ride on his bike."
"I wish he could let go. I know he cares about us, but sometimes it's so hard to get through to him because of all his stupid walls."
I signed, thinking the same thing. Jack had always been a man of solitude. I actually thought he might have been dead by the time we were twenty-five, but then we met Joey, and I could see him coming to life. "He's had a hard life. Seen things no one should've, but he's been better, sweetheart, because of you."
"Because of us. There were a lot of years that I knew you kept him goin'. I love you, Lip."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
Chapter 4
JACK
Fight or flight. Most people have one or the other. I have both. When it comes to being uncomfortable with people I care about, I run. When it comes to being around assholes I could give two shits about, I fight. That was how I'd managed to find myself at McGregor's Pub.
Joey and Lip were everything to me. The only time I was happy was when I was with them, but I didn't trust happiness. Every time I had in the past, something or someone would rip the rug out from right under my feet. People would eventually leave, and life would eventually go back to the darkness. Lip was the only constant thing I'd ever had, and even now, I could feel the connection between him and Joey growing. Lip was good for her. He was strong. He knew how to be the man Joey needed. I was just a distraction, something that would be replaced.
When I'd stepped into the bedroom and saw Joey curled into Lip's arms, I knew I was the interloper, the one who didn't really belong. So I'd left. I'd found myself at McGregor's Pub, drinking myself into oblivion.
"Where's your whore and your gay lover?" some middle-aged drunk slurred.
I knew our relationship was different, something that most wouldn't accept. The drunk was some asshole we'd clashed with a few weeks ago when Joey wanted to go dancing. I'd wanted to bash his head into the ground that night, but Joey had stopped me. She wasn't here tonight, though. "Watch yourself, old man."
The guy went to punch me but missed as he slurred his words again. "Who the hell ya think you are, you little punk?"
The guy was really pathetic. I didn't even have to duck. He was obviously drunk and felt like he could handle more than he actually could. "Buddy, why don't you walk it off before I have to embarrass you in front of all your friends?"
"Who's gonna embarrass me? You? You're a little pussy that isn't man enough for your whore so that you've gotta share her with another man. If the slut wants more dick, let me know."
I was okay with the fucker insulting me. I was even fine with him saying shit about Lip, but the moment he called Joey that slur a second time, I saw red and punched him directly in the face. The impact from my fist made a crunching sound, letting me know whatever I hit definitely broke. Buddy should have stayed down. He should have taken the hit, and that should've been the end of it, but the fucker got up and charged at me. That punch should have had him in pain, but never doubt the numbing power of booze. I grabbed the fucker by the waist and pushed him down, taking the advantage as I sat on him and held him down. I didn't know how long I'd been punching him or how many punches I'd thrown on his face. The only thing I knew was that when the bartender pulled me off him, the drunk was unconscious, and there was a pool of blood surrounding him.
