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Her sex twinged, a reminder of her stunning orgasm around Tony’s cock. How he’d managed not to come for so long inside her was a freaking wonder. She’d figured maybe he wasn’t that turned-on at first. After all, he hadn’t been too enthused about the whole sex club idea. But man, when he’d finally come, he’d almost shot his damn head off and hers too.
She smiled. Cale had a cock big enough to make any woman’s fantasies come true. And her lover, while not lacking anything in that department, had the stamina of two guys.
Why had she waited so long for this again? Sheer stupidity?
Because Tony’s worth more than any orgasm, no matter how incredible.
Unthinkingly, she pressed the point of her pencil into the pad. It was dark in the backseat but she could jot notes in the light from passing streetlights. Besides, she needed to take advantage of the precious moments she had while Cale and Tony were engaged in—what else?—sports talk in the front seat.
“Men are stupid,” she announced.
Cale shot her a look between the seats. He was remarkably good-tempered considering he’d wasted a good condom on a partial BJ that hadn’t even ended in an orgasm. By mutual agreement, they’d decided to split after Tony’s spectacular finish, mainly because the attentions of the crowd had become a little too attentive.
She didn’t really want a bunch of chicks checking out her guys. One or two, fine. But there had been more than a couple of women who’d stopped watching their own men in favor of watching Marcia’s, which meant one thing. Party over.
So she didn’t share all that well. Galvin family trait.
“Problem, Blondie?”
“Yeah, I’m tired of hearing about RBIs. Wouldn’t you rather talk about something more fun?”
“Like what?”
“She means her,” Tony muttered.
Cale laughed. “That so? You needing attention? Thought we’d done pretty well already. With more to come.” His extra emphasis on the word come wasn’t lost on Marcia.
“You don’t have to talk about me,” she began, but Cale lifted a hand and cut her off.
“I’d love to talk about you. Actually, I’d rather talk you through instead.”
She’d already set aside her pad. She’d written all of three probably incoherent notes.
She wet her lips. “What do you mean?”
“Take off your panties.”
“Am I wearing panties?” She slipped her hands under her dress to check. “Looks like I am.”
“Off.”
She did as he asked and tossed the panties in the front seat, laughing as Tony snatched them out of midair. Her laughter stopped when he brought them to his face and took a deep breath. Heat flashed over her skin as he passed them to Cale, who did the same thing. He wound her panties around his wrist then jerked at his zipper. His long hiss of breath made her whimper.
What the hell was he doing? One-handed no less, since his other hand remained on the wheel and his gaze stayed steady on the road. Traffic was light this time of night in this part of the city but his attention didn’t waver.
“Shit,” she whispered, glimpsing purple lace wrapped around his shaft. Her thighs dampened even more. “You’re going to jerk off with my panties?”
“No, we’re going to jerk each other off.”
“How?”
“Talk to me. Make yourself come and let me listen.”
“What about Tony?”
“This is your show,” her lover said, his voice languid. “I’m feeling pretty good right now.”
“But—”
