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Colt had been certain Paige would be the one he’d have to woo tonight, considering his kissing snafu on Monday. Instead, she’d been chatty and happy, carting in bags of takeout pulled-pork sandwiches and coleslaw and going on about some new customers at the store.
She was a damn ray of sunshine who just happened to have a deliciously dirty underside.
Drake, on the other hand, had eaten his meal with little gusto and only said a word when directly questioned. He didn’t seem mad exactly, just thoughtful.
As a rule, thoughtful made him nervous.
He’d never considered that trying to have an arrangement with two people meant twice the headaches. Twice the smoothing of feathers, twice the solicitous behavior. The twice-the-sexual-favors part didn’t bother him overmuch, since he definitely got that in return. And it wasn’t as if he was servicing anyone but Paige, though a few times stuff had happened with Drake that didn’t bear examining. Mainly because he didn’t want to consider what any of it meant. He’d always identified as straight and while he had a feeling that category could be flexible if need be, he figured any awakening feelings in that direction were probably just Paige spillover. With all the desire pingponging between the three of them, of course some would go in a different direction now and then. He could love the guy without…loving the guy.
Couldn’t he?
It wasn’t as if it was a big deal if something did happen between them, as long as Paige was in bed with them. Then it was just usual sanctioned threesome activities. At least that seemed logical in his head.
Lots of bullshit seemed logical once he’d had a couple of beers and a sexy girl was on her knees, undoing his jeans.
“Looks like someone’s already ready to play,” she purred, sliding her hand around his cock. Before he could reply, she’d taken him in her mouth.
Her silky, wet, hot mouth.
She’d just taken a long drink of her grape soda, and sweet hell, he could almost feel some kind of fizzy tingle exploding along his length as she licked. Dirty girl, all right. He might build some kind of altar to her. Later. Much later.
“I know we were supposed to ride first,” she said coyly, gazing up at him through the fringe of her cinnamon-colored eyelashes.
The combination of her skin and hair was like one of those frou-frou drinks they made down at The Lone Bean. He never drank them, preferring his coffee strong and black, but he sure liked to look at them. Loved to look at her.
“But I figured we’d start in here, maybe go for a ride later?” She flicked her tongue over the bubble of pre-cum that formed at the tip. “In the dark?” She chuckled and licked him again. “Naked?”
He groaned. “Darlin’, if you’re riding naked in the dark, it w
on’t be on a damn horse.”
“The guy has a point.” Drake decided to leave his sulking behind and circled around Paige to loosen her hair from its thick braid. He touched her so carefully, so lovingly, that the pressure in Colt’s balls only grew. “We can think of enough to ride in here tonight.”
“But I want to ride Misty too.” Lick, lick, lick. “You guys know the land.” Lick, suck, nibble. Fuck. “We’ll be safe, even in the dark.”
Luckily Drake fielded that one, because his brain cells were currently residing south of the border.
“One word for you: coyotes,” his buddy said shortly, his tone brooking no argument.
That didn’t stop Paige, even with a cock in her mouth. She just slipped it out and shifted to pout at Drake, her beautiful rosy lips plump and gleaming. “We’ll be careful.”
Drake tossed aside the band from her hair and dragged his fingers through the wild strands. “You can’t be careful enough. No.”
“But—”
“Paige, that’s enough.”
“But—”
“No. End of story.” He tugged up her dress and pulled down her panties and slapped her ass hard enough that she squealed around a mouthful of Colt.
Colt jerked in the chair as she pulled back, scraping her teeth along his length. “Goddamn, give a guy some warning before he loses his dick.” He leaned forward and cupped her cheek. “You okay, darlin’?”
She nodded, though there was no missing the sheen in her eyes.
“He’s just worried. We both are.” He shot another look at Drake, who stared back, unrepentant, his blue eyes like twin flames. “That doesn’t give him cause to bruise you.”
“I didn’t bruise her. And she liked it.” He rested his chin on her head and slid one hand up her torso, dragging her dress up with it.
