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She clutched her beer, her heart rampaging so hard she feared she’d pass out. Her nipples puckered, and her vision blurred. Their long, muscled, perspiration-sheened bodies doubled. Even so she was incapable of looking away from the erotic tableau spread out in front of her.
Tristan reared back to tear off the condom, then gripped his long, erect cock—maybe she still had double vision, because he couldn’t be that big—and pumped it over Matt’s flexing back until long streams of cum shot off like a fountain. Tristan groaned and tipped his head forward, working his erection for every drop.
She breathed through her mouth, stunned and aroused beyond belief. And she was confused. So freaking confused. But she couldn’t turn away, and she couldn’t shut off the longing knifing through her lower belly.
It took all her will not to fling herself over the threshold and beg Tris to take her the way he’d seen fit to take their best friend. Hard. Untamed.
That was what she craved.
She didn’t want Tristan to treat her as if she were a delicate, breakable doll, his innocen
t Caity Bait, the name he’d christened her with in college because she’d been younger than everyone else and too tempting for the older guys.
She needed to be possessed in the way he’d possessed Matt. Ached to be caught beneath that spray of cum. Except she wanted it on her breasts, where she could use her fingers to mop it up. Then she’d taste him, let the flavor of his release explode on her tongue. Drink up every bit of him and ask for more.
To keep from moaning herself, she took a quick swallow of beer. It still tasted off. Not like it had tasted even minutes ago.
Matt stroked his own cock now, fast and rough. Any instant now, he’d go off too.
She’d never seen two men together before. Never realized she wanted to. Especially her men. But God, it was so hot. So unbelievable.
Matt shifted slightly, giving her a better view of the show. And then he came with a wild cry, his spurts disappearing into the tangled sheets, making her clench with unfulfilled want.
Cait gasped and took a step backward. Her knees locked, making further movement impossible. Jesus, what was her problem? She could process what she’d seen later, after she was safely in her own bedroom, far from the pants and shudders that had arousal pooling in her panties.
But she’d only managed a step when Matt shifted his head as he fought to catch his breath. His eyes met hers for one long, charged moment.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Tristan laughed, but he didn’t respond to Matt’s curse, probably figuring it had to do with his spectacular finish.
Not quite.
Matt looked as shocked as she felt. Gobsmacked, actually. He started to get up, but Tristan bent, still holding his cock, and licked a trail up between Matt’s shoulder blades. Matt fisted his hands in the sheets again and closed his eyes as aftershocks racked his body.
Tristan licked for a while, careful to clean up every remnant of the mess he’d made. Matt barely whimpered, but she could tell from his rigid stance over the bed he would be ready to go again in no time.
If she hadn’t been there, he would probably already be rolling over and taking hold of Tris’s cock, bringing the still-stiff length to his lips and swallowing the salty tang of the release she yearned to taste.
A hot wave of urgency swept over her. She quivered, her tight nipples pressing against the bodice of her wool dress. She couldn’t watch this anymore. Not unless she intended to become part of the scene and not just a voyeur.
Not that they’d invited her.
The party she’d crashed was clearly just for two, and she’d already overstayed her welcome.
Though she stumbled, she managed to turn and get the hell out of there.
