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It seems to be what he’s been waiting for since he gives Apollo free rein to continue as he participates fully from the bottom. As I near my own peak, Marcus sits up and flips Apollo, pounding him into the mattress. Apollo, face down, supports himself on his forearms while Marcus reaches his hand around to work Apollo's cock in firm strokes.
I'm nearly there, and so is Apollo from the noises he's making. The last thing I see before the screen goes black is Marcus holding deep into Apollo's ass, obviously coming, before he turns his face to the camera and mouths, "I love you too". It's enough to break the spell— and halt my impending orgasm. I screech in frustration even as I marvel at the mush that has taken up residence in my chest at the revelations. And then words pop up on the screen one at a time. "There's a present waiting for you on your bed."
Jerking my hand from my panties now that the fear of discovery is overpowering, I realize I've been set up. They knew I was watching the entire time— or at least Marcus did. I wipe my hand on the inside of my underwear before shakily gaining my composure and opening the door. I only make it partway down the hall before Emmett comes around the corner to find me still flustered, and I'm sure I can't hide the scent of my arousal. They're finally back. I'd been worried when they hadn't returned by this morning, but now I was kinda wishing they'd been delayed another five minutes.
Emmett stops and holds his arms out. "Well, where's my hug?"
With little choice, and really, I do want to hug him, I tuck my dirty hand under the edge of my shirt. Hoping he won't notice I give him a one-armed squeeze, I protest when he gives me a two-armed one and lifts me off my feet.
"I gotta pee, dude! Let me go before I wet myself." He complies, and I dart around the corner to the bathroom, but I don't miss his reply.
"Seems like that's already happened." My face blazes red as I do go ahead and pee and clean up.
Emmett is waiting for me when I open the door to exit the bathroom.
"I don't think so," he says, crowding close. I peer up into those crystal-blue eyes of his and shiver at the heated look within.
His wedge of platinum hair falls over one of them, drawing my gaze to the sharp cheekbones that accentuate his devilish good looks. I have to mentally shake myself to stop staring, and it still takes a second to understand what he said.
"What?" Eloquent, Lark. I internally roll my eyes at myself.
He crowds me further until I'm forced to step back into the half bathroom. As soon as we're both in the small space, he shuts and locks the door before reaching out and boosting me onto the counter. It's just big enough for my butt to fit between the wall and the sink.
"Don't 'what' me. You're going to tell me what you were doing in the security room that has you smelling like you played a few rounds of pocket pussy." I can only gape at his accusation.
"Do I even want to know what 'pocket pussy' is?" Now he's the one that's surprised.
"You know, like pocket pool? When a guy cuts a hole in his pocket so he can wank it without anyone noticing? Or scratch an itch and claim he's digging for change— just the girl’s version. Pocket pussy." He looks at me expectantly with an eyebrow cocked up.
"Umm...nope. Can't say I've heard of that. And for the record— men are dirty perverts." My superiority lasts all of a half a second.
"Says the chick that was hiding her hand, hoping I wouldn't notice."
I close my eyes in mortification. It seems to be a theme that I'm forever embarrassed in new and unusual ways around these men.
"Yes, well… Blame Marcus."
"Oh, so he was in there too?" Fuck, now I'm caught even worse.
"Not exactly," I draw out. "I might have been set up for a bit of voyeurism, and it got the better of me." May as well fess up and throw the instigator under the bus too.
"Hmm...and how did that turn out? Did you finish—or do you need some assistance?"
Standing as he is between my spread thighs, he has easy access to trail a finger up the center of my damp leggings. The tip zeroes in over my clit, renewing the throbbing that had only just dissipated. With a breathy quality to my voice, I answer him.
"Not quite. There were some, oh fuck..." I buck my hips into his hand as he increases the pressure. "Declarations. Yes, declarations, that I'm confused about and then the screen… Jesus, Emmett, I can't concentrate with you doing that."
He takes that as his cue to ramp it up rather than back off. Removing his hand, he grinds his hard, jean-clad dick into my pussy and claims my mouth in a hard kiss, tongue demanding entry from the get-go. I oblige and wrap my arms around his neck while my legs snake around his waist.
The heavy make-out session turns extra naughty when he lifts my bottom enough to slip his hand in my underwear from behind. He only teases at my entrance before a finger slides back, the tip prodding at my rear entry. A shocked noise escapes me as he lowers my weight to sink it in further and motion of our dry humping works my nether regions front and back.
I break the kiss to take a full breath, even more determined to finish this time. But Emmett has other plans, and much like Marcus did to Apollo, he holds my completion hostage.
"What declaration?" He wants to talk now?
I make a noise of pure frustration when his hand slips out of my pants as payback for not answering. He reaches around to turn on the faucet and with my face buried on his shirt, which smells pretty great, he proceeds to wash his hands.
"Alright, real talk." He steps back, leaving me in a slumped puddle of need on the counter. "What happened that you're confused about? And we'll pick this up later. There was actually a different reason I was coming to find you."
