Getting Hotter

“Hmmm, I can see that.” Her hand replaced his, her graceful fingers curling over his stiff shaft.

  When she pumped him nice and slow, he let out a husky moan and reached for her. He slid his hands underneath her shirt and cupped her breasts over her sports bra. Neither of them made a move toward the bed. They simply stood against the door, his hands fondling her breasts, hers jacking his cock in a lazy, torturous rhythm that made his vision waver.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in pants as she quickened the pace. “Condom,” he ground out.

  “In a minute.”

  Before he could blink, she dropped to her knees, her face level with his cock. Every muscle in his body coiled tight as she gripped the root of him and brought him to her mouth.

  Oh Jesus. Wet warmth surrounded him, the suction so unbearably sweet. Miranda pulled the skin taut and delicately licked the exposed head, flicking the underside with her tongue before sucking him deep again. When her hands came into play, one wrapping around his base, the other cupping his tight, achy balls, he hissed out a curse and withdrew from her eager mouth.

  “No fair,” she complained. “You never let me have fun.”

  He almost shot his load when he saw her big hazel eyes peering up at him, her lips glossy with moisture. “That’s because I’m always in a hurry to get inside you,” he grumbled.

  “Well, too bad. Today you get to exercise some patience.”

  “Patience? We only have eleven minutes.”

  “Eight minutes now,” she corrected, her gaze straying to the alarm clock by the bed. “So if you don’t want to waste any more time, I suggest you shut up and let me suck your dick.”

  Hot animalistic lust clamped over him. Well. Who was he to argue with that?

  Changing positions so that he was the one leaning against the wall, Seth tangled one hand in Miranda’s long brown hair and guided her back to his cock. She opened wide, took him deep, and sucked him hard, eliciting a strangled groan from his lips.

  For someone who hadn’t been with a man in seven years, she knew exactly what to do, exactly how to drive him to new heights of agonizing pleasure. She gripped him with the perfect amount of pressure, pumped with the right amount of force. She tightened her mouth’s suction with each downstroke, flicked her tongue over his head on each upstroke. Soon he was pistoning his hips, body straining for deeper contact, desperation building and gathering in his balls.

  Miranda let out a muffled moan. He noticed she’d moved one hand between her legs so she could furiously rub her clit. Her excitement fed his own, her enthusiasm bringing forth a rush of male satisfaction. He fucking loved that she enjoyed going down on him, that it turned her on the way going down on her did him.

  She increased the tempo, her mouth and hand moving up and down his cock, which glistened with saliva and throbbed with anticipation. He was close. Very close. He should pull out. Get a condom. Slide into her tight heat and fuck her hard. Yet he didn’t have the strength to leave the warm, moist heaven of Miranda’s mouth.

  “I’m gonna come,” he muttered. “You want it in your mouth?”

  Her head bobbed as she nodded, her eyes hazy, shining with passion.

  That eager gaze was all it took. He exploded in a boiling rush, one hand entangled in her hair, the other braced on the chest of drawers next to the door. Black dots danced in his vision, his mind losing the capability for thought. A fire of ecstasy burned in his blood, blazing hotter as Miranda’s throat worked to swallow his seed.

  “Jesus.” His erection popped out of her mouth, coated with saliva. “I guess we don’t need a condom after all.”

  Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she wobbled to her feet and smiled. A tiny little smile boasting of feminine satisfaction, as if she was mighty pleased with herself. “We weren’t ever getting to the condom part, babe. Wasn’t part of my dastardly plan.”

  “Your plan involved getting on your knees, sucking my cock, and making me come?” When she nodded, he raised a mocking brow. “Then why’d you take off your leggings and panties?”

  “So I could get myself off while I was carrying out the aforementioned dastardly plan.”

  “I see.” He slanted his head. “And did you get yourself off?”

  A sheepish smiled lifted her lips. “No. I totally got distracted.”

  Seth checked the clock. “Well, we’ve still got two minutes left…”

  “No way would I be able to come in two minutes.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Seth—”

  He dropped to the floor, making her yelp as he grabbed one of her shapely legs and draped it over his shoulder. Her slick folds, pink and perfect, hovered directly over his mouth.

  Licking his lips, he tilted his head to meet her eyes and said, “Challenge accepted.”

  “Are you seriously trying to convince me that the 49ers are a better team than the Bears?” Aidan shook his head in disbelief before taking a long swig of beer. “No way, Wade. You’re nuts.”

  “Me? Look in the mirror, Rhodes. You’re living in the past,” Dylan retorted. “Newsflash—it’s not 1985 anymore. The glory days are over.”

  “Says the guy whose team plays for the NFC West.” Aidan snorted. “AKA the special education division.”

  Dylan flashed his middle finger. He was ready with a comeback, but his phone buzzed before he could open his mouth. He glanced at the screen and read the incoming text from Seth, then glanced at Aidan.

  “Seth and Jackson are chilling at the Sand Hole tonight. You wanna go?”

  Aidan shrugged. “Not really. You?”

  “Naah.”

  They eyed each other for a moment, and something shifted in the night breeze slithering over the terrace. After a beat of silence, they both reached for their respective beers.

  Dylan fixed his gaze on the city skyline, pretending to be fascinated with the tall skyscrapers and twinkling lights when all he could think about was how good Aidan looked tonight and how awesome the last few days had been.

  Despite the awkwardness of that first night, it turned out they made pretty good roommates. Neither of them were slobs, they both liked to cook, they enjoyed watching the same programs on TV. And Aidan subscribed to the NFL network, which meant football twenty-four-seven. Dylan never got to enjoy football talk at home—pansy-ass Seth was all about boxing matches and pay-per-view fights, which was probably a Vegas thing, but annoying nonetheless.

  Then again, there was a definite upside to living with Seth: Dylan didn’t want to rip the guy’s clothes off every time he saw him.

  And interestingly enough, Seth, who was intense as hell, was actually less intense than Aidan. On the surface Aidan was charming and funny, but every now and then he got quiet, his dark eyes becoming shuttered. And if you looked really hard, you sometimes glimpsed a shadow or two that you couldn’t decipher, a hint of the secrets that lurked behind that enigmatic expression. But whatever shadows Aidan harbored, he didn’t seem inclined to shed light on them, and Dylan wasn’t one to push.

  However, when it came to another aspect of Aidan’s life, he was far too curious not to bring it up.

  “So what’s the deal with you and Matt and Savannah?” Dylan asked, leaning back in the cushioned chair.

  Aidan grinned. “What do you mean?”

  “Those two are in a committed relationship, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet according to Cash, you’re frequently over at their place, in Matt’s bedroom…” He shrugged. “How does that work exactly?”

  Aidan’s dimples made an appearance as his grin widened. “You need me to spell out the logistics of a ménage à trois, man?”

  “Ha-ha. I mean, don’t you feel like the third wheel? Matt and Savannah are in love.” He paused in afterthought. “Unless…wait, are all three of you…?”

  “No, the three of us are not in love.” Rolling his eyes, Aidan reached for the pack of Newports on the glass table and extracted a cigarette. He lit u
p, chuckling as he exhaled a cloud of smoke that swiftly got carried away by the breeze. “It’s really not that complicated. Matt and Savannah are together and they love each other. Matt’s my best friend. Savannah’s a good friend.”

  “Okay, I’m following you so far…”

  “Savannah and Matt are also the most sexually uninhibited people I’ve ever met in my life. They like to have fun and experiment, and they also happen to enjoy variety.” He flashed those dimples again. “And when they want variety, they call me.”

  “And it’s not awkward?” Dylan wrinkled his forehead. “Aren’t they all, I don’t know, intimate with each other? Lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes, whispering I love you, all that couple shit?”

  Aidan snickered. “If that’s how they acted, I wouldn’t be there, bro. I have no idea what they’re like when they’re alone, but trust me, when it’s the three of us, it’s all about pure, carnal fucking.”

  A dark thrill traveled up Dylan’s spine. When was the last time he’d indulged in some pure, carnal fucking of his own? The kind where you didn’t think, didn’t question or doubt, didn’t stop to consider propriety or pesky emotions.

  Cash and Jen.

  Shit, that was totally it. The last time he’d experienced that kind of raw, modesty-be-damned sex had been six months ago with Cash and Jen. He’d given his best friend a blowjob that night, slept with his best friend’s now-serious girlfriend, and though he’d been with plenty of chicks since then, he couldn’t remember any of those encounters leaving him with that same sense of carnal satisfaction.

  “Anyway,” Aidan was saying, “I’m not sure how much longer the arrangement will last. The three of us haven’t hooked up in a few months, actually.”

  Dylan inspected the other man’s face for signs of anger or disappointment and found none. Aidan looked relaxed as hell as he flicked his ashes in the ashtray before bringing his cigarette back to his lips for another drag.

  “Maybe they got sick of you,” Dylan joked.

  “Doubt it. I’m pretty frickin’ good in bed.”

  Aidan’s tone rang with humor, but there was nothing humorous about the way their gazes collided again. Or the current of heat that coursed between them.

  Breaking the eye contact, Aidan gave a small shrug. “Matt’s going to propose to her soon.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I helped him pick out the ring. Nothing too flashy—Savannah hates showy displays of wealth. According to her, only flowers are allowed to be showy.” An indulgent smile quirked Aidan’s lips. “They’re good for each other. They just…fit, know what I mean? I think they’ll be happy.”

  A short silence descended over the terrace, each man getting lost in his own thoughts. Dylan had to wonder if he’d ever meet that one person who fit him. He’d been told that he wasn’t “relationship material”, accused of being too impulsive and fun-loving, qualities which apparently weren’t conducive to a serious relationship. Who knew.

  “So where are you going to get your ménage fix now?” Dylan asked with a grin.

  “No clue. I might have to start inviting myself to the orgies you keep going on about.”

  “I’m afraid my orgy calendar isn’t as hoppin’ as it used to be. Cash bowed out when he started dating Jen, and Seth has been panting after Miranda the past few months. Which leaves Jackson, who was always the weak link in my three-way circle. He prefers one-on-one, claims it’s the Texas way.”

  They both laughed. Observed each other again. Reached for their beers.

  A groan got stuck in his throat, joining the ball of frustration and lump of unease already taking up residence there. This had never happened to him before, damn it. Lusting over another man? Just another man? With no woman around to balance everything out?

  Fuck.

  The lack of estrogen on the balcony became glaringly apparent the longer he and Aidan watched each other. Unsettled, he chugged the rest of his beer, but the liquid was lukewarm by now and did nothing to extinguish the fire raging down below.

  Enough. He was tired of the strange waves of tension palpitating in the air whenever he and Aidan were alone together. He needed to get laid, damn it. It was the only way to purge his body of this tight, antsy feeling, the only way to vanquish this inappropriate craving.

  “Shoot, I forgot, I have to return this chick’s call.” He scraped his chair back and reached for his two empty beers.

  Aidan beat him to the bottles. “Make your call out here. I’ll take the empties in.”

  “Oh, thanks, man.”

  “No problem.”

  Their fingers brushed as he handed Aidan the bottles. A tiny shock wave coursed through his veins, making him gulp.

  With a knowing twinkle in his dark eyes, Aidan headed for the sliding door and quietly moved through the threshold.

  Dylan stared at the other man’s retreating back and resisted a groan. Crap. He was approaching a critical point here. A potential point of no return.

  Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through the contacts until he found one entry in particular. Rachel Carver. The blonde he’d met at the club last week.

  Lord, please let her answer the phone.

  To his overwhelming relief, she chirped out a hello on the second ring.

  “Rachel?” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Dylan. Dylan Wade. We met at OMG last week, remember?”

  She sounded absolutely delighted to hear from him. “Hi! I’d almost given up on you! I’m so glad you called.”

  His peripheral vision caught a blur of movement. He turned his head to see Aidan in the living room, one sculpted arm flexing as he pointed the remote at the flat screen before flopping down on the leather couch.

  Tearing his gaze away, Dylan forced his attention back on the phone call. “So. Rachel. You feel like hanging out tonight?”

  Chapter Twelve

  The following week, Miranda moved back to her apartment, leaving Seth feeling oddly dejected and more than a little discouraged. Even with her kids constantly underfoot, he’d liked having her in his house. They may not have slept in the same bed, or even spent all that much time together, thanks to their busy schedules, but he’d drawn comfort from her presence.

  And as expected, living with the woman had taught him quite a lot about her. For example, he now knew what a nauseatingly chipper morning person she was, that she cooked the best breakfasts on the planet, and that she sneezed every time she smelled the scent of dish detergent. He’d also discovered that she preferred classic rock to anything contemporary, the History Channel to reality television, and boxing above all sports.

  His three favorite fucking things.

  The best thing about Miranda Breslin, though? She loved sex. Absolutely loved it. Maybe it was the seven-year lull, but he’d never been with a more passionate woman. She gave 110 percent in the bedroom—eager, brazen, quick to laugh, open to experiment.

  Oh, and the icing on the cake? She was into morning sex.

  Very into it, he discovered when he crawled into her bed at ten in the morning, spooned her from behind, and slipped a finger inside her. He groaned at how wet she was. How, even in her sleep, she rocked into his finger and let out a moan.

  “Seth?” she murmured.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder, pleased that she hadn’t bothered with pajamas.

  He knew she’d gotten home from the club at two a.m. last night and woke up at seven today to drive the twins to school. After spending another long night in the ocean, he’d turned on his phone to find a text from Miranda, informing him she was going back to bed and to let himself in. She’d signed the text with a winky face, which had brought a smile to his lips.

  He’d stopped at his house to shower and change, then managed to drive to Miranda’s apartment without falling asleep at the wheel. The team would be doing classroom work for the rest of this week and most of the following one, which meant his sleep schedule would return to normal. For a bit, anyway.

  “T
hat feels good,” Miranda said sleepily.

  He fingered her with lazy thrusts, his cock stiffening and straining against her naked ass. Moisture coated his finger, eliciting a deep growl of approval, and he greedily added a second digit, loving the way her sex clenched around it. His thumb tended to her clit as his fingers worked her pussy, and it wasn’t long before she was gasping and squirming and shaking with orgasm.

  While she lay on the bed, warm and boneless and recovering from her climax, he donned a condom, then moved into the spooning position again and eased into her from behind.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” she murmured when his entire length filled her.

  “Very nice,” he murmured back, planting a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. The fine hairs there tickled his lips.

  His cock throbbed, ordering him to go faster, to fuck her harder, but exhaustion and indolence overruled his body’s demand. Very deliberately, he pulled out, one inch at a time, but not completely. He kept just the tip inside her, an unbearable tease that resulted in Miranda clenching her inner muscles around him, a hot vise squeezing his engorged head.

  Seth let out a curse. “You’re evil.”

  Her choked laughter filled the air. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I guess my body wants to trap you in there.”

  “Baby, I’d happily move in if I could.”

  He rolled his hips and they both groaned at the tantalizing friction. All talking ceased as he closed his eyes and lost himself in mind-blowing sensation. The iron grip of her sex on his cock, her silky hair tickling his cheek, the way her nipple puckered when he brought one arm around her to cup a breast.

  When he finally came, it wasn’t in one tidal wave of pleasure, but, rather, in little bursts of ecstasy, like waves lapping against the shore, dancing over his flesh and tingling in his balls and shivering through him in an endless, full-body rush. Huh. Exhausted sex apparently had its perks.

  “Can’t move,” he mumbled when the bliss finally ebbed. “Sleepy.”

  He scraped up enough energy to pull out and peel off the condom, then slung his arm over Miranda’s waist and snuggled close to her warm, lithe body.