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She had to hope Charli wouldn’t hate her forever for making this step. It had already given her a few bad moments and that was while she still had a miniscule buzz going on and had been kissed to within an inch of her life after almost losing it. Tomorrow the worry would be worse, she was sure of it.
But she still wasn’t walking away. She couldn’t. Not after all this time of not taking anything for herself, not even a moment or two of pleasure. It wasn’t as if this was going to change their lives or anything. They were three adults who’d have some fun and go their separate ways. No harm, no foul.
Lots and lots of orgasms.
She wouldn’t lose her bestie over it. That was just silly to even consider. Charli was a happily married woman. She probably didn’t even care what Colt did—or with whom.
“Okay,” Drake repeated, maybe hoping the affirmation would get Colt to speak. Anything was better than seeing him brooding in the backseat. The guy was not a brooder by nature, and it didn’t sit well with her. If he was this wigged out by the possibility of taking her to bed, why had he kissed her?
Adrenaline. Impulse. Stupidity.
She was probably riding high on all three tonight.
“She hasn’t thought it all through,” Colt said from the backseat.
Indignation reared up inside her. “I did so. What do you think I was doing outside?”
“Fretting. Not the same as thinking.”
“I don’t fret, you jackass.”
“See, she doesn’t want to sleep with me, she wants to insult me. That’s the kind of relationship we have.”
Even wrapped in her cloak of annoyance, she could hear the imploring note in Colt’s voice. He so didn’t want to do this. And she had a feeling it might not all have to do with her.
Weird. He’d said they’d shared women before. She highly doubted Colt had recently developed some kind of aversion to ménage sex. So what had changed his mind? Could it really all have to do with his just not wanting to go there with her?
“All right, you may have a point. You and Paige, maybe not. But me and Paige…” She let out a startled squeak when Drake leaned forward and plucked her off the ground, setting her on her seat with an ease that baffled and amazed her. She wasn’t some lightweight. But then he was tipping her head back and rubbing his mouth over hers, and all she could think was this was the second time she’d been kissed by a gorgeous-as-hell man tonight.
She’d just set a new personal best.
His lips pressed into hers, subtly commanding her to allow him entrance. She already was. His tongue slid inside and tangled with hers, slowly, sensually, while the hand on her face nudged her back and demanded more. More of her mouth, more of her. And she gave it, willingly.
He smelled of hay and horses and rich, earthy soil. Tasted of mint and coffee, an oddly potent combination. And when she let out a moan, he chased her tongue and sucked, giving her no choice but to make that urgent sound again.
“Enough.”
The sharply barked word made her fumble back to stare dizzily at Drake, who looked every bit as shaken. But the smile he gave her managed to ease her jumble of emotions and remind her of what was important.
More. Please. Now.
She was sliding back across the seat in his direction when Colt’s broad hand snagged in her hair, subtly tugging her back. Then he was kissing her, and it was no less arousing or magnetic. His lips toyed with hers, a gentle tease, until she found herself scrambling up to kneel just so she could get more of his mouth. His taste was darker, richer. More reckless. Scotch flavored his kisses. Maybe that was why she felt on the verge of drunk.
His tongue glided along the seam of her mouth, not insisting on entry. Just playing with her, like a lion played with its prey before zooming in for the kill. She reached for him, scratching her hand down his chest wherever she could reach.
He still hadn’t fully buttoned his shirt.
The realization ratcheted up her need another hundred degrees. She slid her hand lower, desperate to touch all that hot, hard flesh, and his groan broke against her lips, encouraging her to keep going. To his waist and below.
Just a few more inches…
“My turn.”
She wasn’t surprised to be tugged back toward Drake. Nor did his increasingly hungry kiss catch her off-guard. There was a level of competition between the two men, and she was coming out the winner in every damn way.
“Wait.” She pushed a hand against his chest, surprised to hear herself speak. She wasn’t actually interrupting things, was she? Because only a fool would slow this down.
Or someone who just wanted to be certain that all the parameters were in place before they took an irrevocable step.
