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“You have one job right now. To take what we give you, and to remember why.”
“That’s two jobs.”
“Add another three spankings,” he told Colt.
“Only three?” Colt tugged lightly on her thick hair. “Don’t go easy on her.”
“Sadists,” she muttered.
Drake glanced at Colt and smiled. He’d expected tonight to be awkward. He’d blown his best friend, for God’s sake. But the rhythm between them was as natural as if it had never happened.
Part of him wondered if that was because Colt was doing what he did best—hiding in Denialsville. He simply didn’t know. One thing he did know was that he couldn’t force Colt to accept more than he was ready to, in his own timeframe and at his own speed. If right now, he could only do, not process, that was just fine with him. Drake would give him all the time in the world to figure out his next move. As long as he didn’t shut him out. Or shut out Paige.
Gorgeous, sweet Paige, who was so headstrong and being so brave about facing an issue she’d obviously had for a while. As hard as it was for him to believe she didn’t see her beauty—to his mind, she was absolutely perfect just the way she was—he could understand how she’d let what other people had said take root and fester. He’d done that too.
After Colt had inadvertently hurt him last year by turning his back on what had happened that night with Beth, Drake had relived the taunts he’d gotten as a kid in high school when he’d become known as someone who liked boys as much as girls. Colt hadn’t said one negative word to him about the handjob. Hell, he wouldn’t. Colt wasn’t built that way. But Drake had let his bu
ddy’s seeming dismissal bring back all his old fears.
Most of the time, he was incredibly confident and at ease with his sexuality, fluid as it was. But no one could knock him as off-kilter as his best friend.
And now, this lovely woman spread out in front of them. Wrists bound, hands clasped, ass upturned to the strokes Colt was applying in equal measure with smacks.
“What number was that?” Colt asked, voice low.
“Four.” Her chin wobbled as she turned her head. “Are we done yet?”
Colt chuckled and slid his fingers along the crack of her ass, dipping down into the moisture Drake glimpsed between her thighs. “Not quite yet. You’re not dripping.”
She squirmed and pressed back against his hand, obviously wanting him to drive his fingers inside. He didn’t give her what she wanted. Nope, he intended to make her beg.
“Your turn,” he said to Drake, shifting aside.
Drake readily took up the position between her thighs. His cock tilted toward her ass like a divining rod. It wanted inside that tight pink pucker, just like the rest of him did.
Soon. But not yet.
“Four more, baby,” Drake said, peppering her ass with quick slaps without giving her a respite in between. He kept her off-guard, alternating the pressure, then added one extra for good measure.
And because he loved that rosy flush on her skin that branded her as theirs.
She was sobbing and squirming, opening her legs to show them the swollen pink slit that now gleamed with her excitement. Kinky little minx.
“Do you feel suitably punished now?” Drake murmured against the back of her head.
Out of the corner of his eye, the blur of Colt’s hand shuttling up and down his dick made his own stand even more at attention. Which basically was a feat of nature, because he was already as hard as iron.
“Yes. Yes. Paige does not…ride at night. Paige…does not…pass Go. She does not get two…hundred…oh fuck me, please.”
He buried his face in her hair and laughed, his shoulders shaking. God, he lo—
No. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He already loved one person he would never truly have. He’d be damned if he made it two.
Before he could say something that would reveal the stampede of emotions inside him, he rolled away and grabbed hold of his own shaft. Colt would see to her.
He didn’t have to ask his buddy to take over. Colt simply shifted between her legs and grasped her hips, pulling her up to her knees. Then he buried his face between her thighs.
Drake couldn’t see what exactly he was doing, but it didn’t matter. He could hear it. Every wet noise her body made, every rough lash of his tongue, the harsh suction on her clit. The low growls in his throat, her needy moans. Each sound combined to push him closer to his own orgasm.
