Twisted Twosome

  “And you know, I’m really good at snuggling.” I nuzzle the side of her neck, brushing the scruff on my jaw against her silky skin. “I’m also very good at fucking.”

  She leans her neck to the side, indicating that she doesn’t plan on pulling away any time soon. Fuck if I can hold back now.

  “Are you good at fucking, Princess?” I trail my lips along her neck, slowly, oh so fucking slowly.

  “You don’t want to know,” she breathes out heavily. “The truth will only hurt you in the end.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, now kissing the spot on her neck that rests below her ear. Goosebumps spread over her skin. There is no denying my ability to make this woman squirm, but the truth is, she can make me squirm just as much.

  “Because, despite my ability to blow your mind in the bedroom, you’ll never get to see it.” She spins in my arms and presses her hands against my chest. She glides them up to the collar and grips tightly. Licking her lips, she pulls on my shirt, bringing me closer to her mouth. Talking seductively, she says, “It’s just pretend this weekend, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “I’ve had ideas way before this weekend, Princess. The question we have to face now is: will you be able to resist me?”

  “Easy.” She brings me closer, her hand wrapping around my neck. Her thumb caresses my hair, lightly stroking it, putting me into a trance where I can’t think of anything else but the relentless pounding in my hardening cock. “It isn’t about if I can resist you, it’s if you can resist me, Racer.”

  A challenge.

  If I were a stronger man, I would accept that shit and turn her upside down, showing her not to mess with me. But hell, I’m hard as fuck, I’ve wanted this woman since I saw her in a bikini, busting a hole through my nail gun hose, and I have zero willpower left.

  Fuck our differences.

  Fuck our partnership.

  Fuck this weekend.

  There is one thing I want, and I’m not waiting anymore.

  “Are you asking me to try to resist you when you’re wearing this fuck-hot dress? Impossible,” I growl just as I push her against the wall and press my hips against hers. She gasps as her hands tighten on my collar. I press my knee between her legs and cup her cheek. Looking her square in the eyes, I say, “You have one chance to say no. Right now. If you really don’t want this, tell me no.”

  “No,” she answers me, causing my stomach to bottom out. Maybe I read her completely wrong. Maybe the sexual tension I’ve been feeling is really only on my end. I go to step back, totally confused. “No way I can say no,” she finishes with a devilish smirk on her face. Thank fuck.

  Point to Georgie.

  Grinding my teeth, I shake my head. “Get a little enjoyment out of that?” Fucking sassy trickery.

  “Just a little.” She cutely scrunches her nose.

  I remove her hands from my collar and press them up against the wall, pinning her in place with my knee still between her legs. I press my lips along her jaw and up to her ear where I whisper, “If I didn’t want you so much right now, I would be walking away with plans of pure torture in your future.”

  “Seems like you’re the one who would be tortured, not me.” Her breath caresses my skin, sending chills down my spine. Fuck if she isn’t right about that.

  “Are you trying to tell me I have no effect on you whatsoever?”

  “None,” she whispers as her fingers curl over mine when I move my knee up to the juncture between her thighs.

  “None whatsoever?” I take one of her hands and lower it only to slip it under my shirt that’s billowing forward. I press her palm against my abs and watch as she bites down on her bottom lip.

  She shakes her head and I move my knee in small strokes. On a little moan, her head falls back and she says, “None.”

  Shit, that was sexy, so I repeat the move. Slowly, I rub my knee against her pussy and watch her unmistakable arousal. Her eyes flutter briefly, her mouth opens, and with one glance down I see how hard her nipples are.

  Such a beautiful little liar.

  “Well damn.” I rub my nose up the column of her neck and back down until I reach her collarbone. I nip at it, lightly biting along the bone and kissing each nip. Her hips start to move back and forth slowly on my leg, and hell if I don’t grow harder in seconds. “I can’t believe I don’t even make your nipples hard.” I release her hand that is now freely caressing my stomach and rub my thumb across her hardened nipple. Lifting my head, I catch her gasp on my lips as I’m millimeters away from her mouth. “Oh wait, your nipples are hard. Looks like I’m going to have to fuck the lies right out of you.” I lick my lips, move my leg up just little bit more, and . . .

  “G, are you in here?” The door to the bungalow flies open, and Madison walks in wearing a ridiculously large sun hat and navy-blue sundress. “Oh my God.” Madison covers her mouth with her hand.

  “Oh my God,” Georgie repeats as she pushes me away, barely getting any space between us.

  “Oh my God,” a male voice adds, a voice I haven’t heard before.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God,” I draw out, trying to turn around so my erection isn’t poking the intruders in the eye.

  “We weren’t doing anything,” Georgie says like an idiot. Yeah, we weren’t doing anything. Insert eye-roll. It was obvious we were about to devour each other. Fuck, I can still feel the sexual tension between us.

  “Oooo, I’m telling Dad on you.” Dad? I turn around and place Georgie in front of me as she tries to shoo me away but I keep her still. The boner has yet to ease, even from the intrusion. Listen, I’ve been hard all fucking day, it’s going to take a few seconds to let the guy wilt.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Spencer?”

  “I brought him with me as my date. I couldn’t find anyone else,” Madison answers. “The real question is what you’re doing in here?” She wavers her finger between the two of us.

  “Practicing,” Georgie says, her voice all high-pitched and squeaky. “We want to make sure we look like a real couple, you know?”

  “Uh-huh.” Madison crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her hip. She’s not buying it. It’s written all over her face. “So having your hand halfway up Racer’s shirt is helping you practice being a real couple?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Georgie nods. “It’s all about practicing intimacy. We don’t want to look awkward when Bitsy comes to talk to us. You know how cutthroat she can be.”

  “And what about Racer? He had his hand on your boob.” Madison looks at me and so does Spencer, both of them waiting on an answer as Georgie elbows me, trying to get me to play along.

  Not sure what to really say and hating this ridiculous lie, I shrug and answer truthfully. “I really wanted to touch her boob. Her nipple was hard—ooof.”

  Georgie elbows me harder this time, right in the stomach, which you think I would be mad about, but seeing how pissed she is only makes me laugh. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into my chest. Madison’s eyes widen as I lean over and nibble on Georgie’s neck. She scrambles to get away, but there is no use, goosebumps spread across her skin giving her away.

  Pulling away for a second, I wink at Madison and ask, “What do you think? Convincing?”

  She nods, mouth slightly agape. “I would say. I’m frankly impressed, G, that you can make your nipples hard on command like that.”

  “I hate all of you,” she says, pulling away and heading into the bathroom with no door.

  Unfortunately, we all laugh at Georgie and her inability to throw a proper fit. From the corner of the bathroom, she stands defiantly, looking sexy as hell. I adjust my sleeves while staring her down and just for her benefit, I give her a wink to let her know this little interlude isn’t over.

  And I’m shocked as fuck when a brief smile passes over her lips. Practicing my ass. This weekend is going to be more fun than I expected. And hopefully I’ll be able to alleviate the worst case of blue balls ever seen this side of New York.

&
nbsp; Chapter Seventeen

  GEORGIANA

  “We didn’t get properly introduced. I’m Spencer.” Spencer holds out his hand that Racer takes in his while he still keeps one arm wrapped around me.

  “Racer, nice to meet you. I’m your sister’s boyfriend.” Oh Jesus . . .

  “Pretend boyfriend,” I add.

  Racer squeezes me closer to his side and whispers in my ear. “We’ll see, Princess.”

  We make our way down Main Street in East Hampton, headed toward Rowdy Hall for dinner. Madison thought it would be “fun” to all go out to dinner. Me, not so much.

  Not because I’m not hungry or don’t want to hang out with Madison and my brother—well, Spencer is questionable—but because I’m freaking charged up right now. I can’t even begin to describe the ache between my thighs. And it worsens every time Racer touches me, speaks in my ear, or looks me in the eyes with that heated gaze of his. I want nothing more than to flip Madison and Spencer the bird and sprint back to the bungalow with Racer at my side to finish what we started.

  Madison has the worst timing ever by far. Then again, I’m kind of glad she walked in at that point because if she didn’t she would have seen way more skin than she’d probably prefer. Note to self: lock the bungalow the minute you step inside it.

  And what the hell is she doing here with Spencer? I know she needed a date, but my brother? She couldn’t have found anyone else to bring? She has a Rolodex of men in her phone, including the pool boy. I hope they’re not staying together because that would be just too weird for me.

  “Boyfriend, huh?” Spencer asks, eyeing Racer for a second. “You’re not her usual type.”

  “What’s my usual type?” I ask.

  “Douche,” Racer answers for him and then pats my shoulder. “Your usual type is douche, Princess.”

  “It is not.”

  “He’s so right.” Spencer laughs and claps his hands as we arrive at Rowdy Hall. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a guy that’s not a douche. Granted, I don’t know Racer yet, but so far, I like his style.”

  I scoff. “Racer is the biggest douche of all.” Not true, but honestly, my comebacks are very weak right now. I blame it on the fact that all I can think about is Racer’s dick pressed up against me. Inside me. Everywhere . . .

  Leaning close to my ear, he whispers, “Biggest, yes. Douche, never.” He bites on my earlobe and yup, my nipples are hard once again. Oh, and the mention of him being the biggest, yeah, that doesn’t divert my attention away from his dick at all. Not one bit.

  “Four please, and can we possibly sit in the courtyard?” Madison asks the hostess.

  “Of course, follow me.” She glances at Racer and smiles with a wink. A wave of jealousy rolls over me and clouds my vision. I snap my arm around Racer’s waist and let her clearly see that he’s “taken.” Well, pretend taken, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  Madison and Spencer walk in front of us while Racer takes my hand and leads me in the direction of the whore-y hostess. He pulls me in close and says, “Easy there, tiger. I only have eyes for one woman and like the good little girl she is, her nipples are hard and waiting for me.”

  Get it together, nips! Christ.

  “Stop staring at my nipples,” I whisper at him.

  He squeezes my hand and says, “Not a chance, Princess.”

  We are seated in the back of the courtyard surrounded by brick, twinkle lights, and a beautiful, shady tree. The bistro set we are seated at offers a bench loveseat and two chairs. Naturally Madison and Spencer take the chairs while Racer and I are left with the loveseat. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if Racer didn’t take up more than half of it and I wasn’t so turned on by his . . . everything.

  Racer wraps his arm around my shoulders as I take in the ambiance. It’s quaint, with stars shining above us and the au naturel feel of the perfectly potted plants expertly placed around the courtyard. The lights crisscrossing over us makes the space feel almost magical and the man sitting next to me brings the whole experience to the next level.

  “Beer, I need beer,” Spencer announces while grabbing the drink menu. “Are you going to get one of those girly drinks you like so much, Madison?”

  “Why? You’re going to ask me for a sip, aren’t you?”

  “You know a man of my stature can’t possibly order one for myself. Oh, look at this one”—he points to the menu—“it has grapefruit in it. Get that one.”

  “You’re absurd.” Madison leans over to look at the drink. “Damn, that does sound good.”

  These two. I’m not going to lie, I’m still shocked Madison decided to bring Spencer since they’ve had history. Do I like my friend getting involved with my brother? Not so much, especially when the last time they interacted—I use that term loosely—Spencer left for the city, leaving Madison behind. She told me time and time again they were friends and had never truly been serious, but I saw it in her eyes. She hurt when he left.

  So can you imagine my surprise when I see him here with my best friend once again?

  “Are you going to get a drink, Georgie?” Racer asks, his fingers twirling a strand of my hair, his breath tickling my ear.

  Yes, yes I am getting a drink. I am getting all the drinks with all the booze.

  “Yeah, are you?”

  “Eh, I’ll probably just get water.”

  Water. That doesn’t sound like Racer. I’ve seen him drink beer with Aaron before.

  I’m about to question him when it hits me; water is free. My heart immediately starts to ache. I completely forgot to tell him this entire weekend is on me. I know how tight things are for him, and the last thing I want is him thinking he has to pay for all our outings. He’s doing me a favor. But how can I say it in a way that doesn’t offend him? I don’t want to wound his pride.

  Needing to let him know he doesn’t have to worry about money, I try to distract Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. “Hey, did you see the appetizers, Madison?”

  “God, I love a good appey.” Madison fists-bumps.

  “Don’t even think about getting artichoke dip, no one likes that shit.”

  Madison pops her head up over her menu. “Everyone likes it.”

  “No one,” Spencer counters. They face off, ready to throw down the gauntlet over appetizers. They’re too easy.

  While they fight, I turn toward Racer and carefully run my hand up his chest—trying to look as intimate as possible—and grip the side of his face. Quietly I speak into his ear. “Get whatever you want this weekend. It’s all on the business card.” I didn’t say it’s on me, because I didn’t want him to feel emasculated, instead I said the business.

  “Geor—”

  “No, I’m serious. This is a business trip, okay?” With my face so close to his, I gently press a kiss against his cheek, trying to reassure him . . . or more like trying to sneak in any kind of intimacy. His kisses drove me mad at the bungalow. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so turned on. But it wasn’t just that. It was as if he couldn’t stop kissing and touching me, as if he needed to show affection. It was erotic, hands down. But it was also . . . extraordinary. I’m thinking Racer is a man good with all his tools. God, G. Settle. Not here. Not . . . yet.

  He clears his throat and brings me in a little closer by wrapping his arm around me tighter. “What about at night, when I’m hard as fuck and sharing a bed with you? Is that still business, or will that be pleasure?”

  Oh God, I feel like I can’t breathe. His other hand glides across my thigh and moves up toward the hem of the dress. I can’t even tell if Madison and Spencer are still arguing, because all I can focus on is the man slowly destroying me with every caress and soft-spoken word.

  I swallow hard and caress the hardened scruff on his jaw. “Pleasure,” I whisper, just before I pull away and straighten myself. When I look over at Madison and Spencer, they’re now sharing a menu and pointing at the different appetizers they can agree on.

  I pick up my menu to somewhat concentr
ate on what I want to get when Racer leans in again, his hand still on my thigh and traveling higher. “I want to, no I need to fuck you so bad right now. I just need a little taste. Give me a little taste, Princess.”

  Is he serious? His hand slides up even higher now. Thankfully our bench is pushed in and there is a cloth over the table or else Madison and Spencer would be getting quite the show.

  Talking very quietly, he grits out, “Spread for me.”

  Oh my God, he is serious. I keep my lips sealed and casually shake my head. No way are we doing this right here in front of Madison and my brother.

  “Spread your legs, Georgiana,” he grits out. The use of my full name hits me hard and miraculously my traitorous legs spread only slightly, but just enough for Racer to move his hand to my panty line where he casually strokes me. “Are you wet?” He’s so quiet, so seductive. I know only I can hear him but with viewers a mere few feet away, I’ve never felt more exposed. And hot.

  I nod, unable to answer him with my voice. There is no way I can speak right now. Not with the way Racer is playing my body, as if he knows every single button to press at the right time.

  “Oh salmon. I haven’t had a good salmon in a long time,” Spencer says.

  “You are not getting the salmon. It’s going to make my hair smell.”

  “If I can’t get the salmon then you’re sure as hell not getting potato skins.”

  “We agreed,” Madison protests and once again goes back to the menu. Honestly, these two are like children.

  I can’t even think about food right now. Not with Racer caressing my panty line. “How bad do you want me, Princess?”

  Nope, not answering that question. Just going to look at the menu. Going to study it real hard. Oh look at that, the soup of the day is French—oh my God, his fingers are under my thong. My legs spread even wider without even being able to stop them. I swear they have their own brain. With the new level of access, Racer starts to caress my slit and I feel my eyes roll in the back of my head.

  “Fuck,” he breaths into my ear. “Fuck, this was a bad idea.” You think? I could have told him that the minute he put his hand on my thigh.