Within seconds her womb tightened and the first ripples of orgasm gripped her aching center. “Trey, Trey, Trey!” she chanted as she came, wishing he was inside her as her core clenched with hard spasms of pure bliss.
“You’re gushing,” he said as if in awe and started lapping at her freely flowing juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured, “Reagan mixed with cherry.”
Still trembling with aftershocks of release, she chuckled. The guy had a thing for cherry. He continued to lick and suckle her while he removed her pants. Her panties, which she had taken off back at Dare’s house, were still in her pocket. With nothing on but her tank top around her waist, she found herself mostly naked while Trey was still fully clothed. Didn’t seem quite fair. She wanted to see him. Touch him. Kiss him. Taste him, too.
She sat up in the seat and reached for his shirt, tugging impatiently at the fabric along his back. He caught her hands and locked fingers with her, his tongue still dancing over the heated flesh between her thighs.
“Trey,” she whispered desperately. “I want to touch you.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “After I come, you can touch me as much as you want. I’m much too excited right now though.”
His tongue plunged into her body. Twirled inside her. Withdrew. Plunged inside again. Twirled. Withdrew. She writhed against his face, unable to control the motion of her hips. Oh dear God, if he kept that up much longer she’d come again. He released one of her hands and softly, gently stroked her quivering belly. Her hand moved to his hair and tangled in the long silky strands. She tried to tug him upward, to direct him to her throbbing clit, but he resisted, still teasing her pussy with that talented tongue of his. She felt her tank top go taut against her waist. He grabbed her hand, did some fancy twist, and the next thing she knew her wrist was trapped at her side, imprisoned by her own shirt.
He lifted his head and said, “Don’t interfere,” before nipping her clit. Her entire body jerked. He flicked the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucked on it until she was writhing against his face again, and then switched to suckling her swollen lips.
“You’re killing me, Trey,” she said breathlessly. “Will you just fuck me already?”
He lifted his head and chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He wanted her to ask? If she’d known that, she would have asked ten minutes ago. He shifted back to kneel on the floor between her wide open legs. The cold air that bathed her slick heat reminded her how much she needed him inside her. She struggled to free her wrist from her twisted tank top and, once free, she sat up and reached for Trey’s belt. He was checking the pockets of his jeans frantically.
Reagan unfastened his belt and worked at the buttons of his fly. Trey had his wallet out and was digging around inside. When Reagan got his pants open, she reached inside and carefully pulled his cock out of his pants.
He shuddered. “W-wait,” he breathed.
His cock was magnificent—long and hard, tipped with a large, thick head that she wanted to suck almost as much as she wanted it inside her.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “God, I want you.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, fuck. That’s what I had in mind.”
He grimaced when she rubbed her thumbs over his cock head in wide circles.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom on you, would you?”
“Not on me, no. You’re supposed to put it on you and put it in me.” She chuckled.
“I don’t have one with me.”
She groaned. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “I probably lost them one of the times I hit the deck at the skate park. Or when I bought our drinks. Or at Dare’s house. Or at the hospi—”
She released a frustrated breath. “Maybe there’s a drugstore nearby. We’ll send the driver in.” She peeked out the window and found they were in a familiar parking lot. “Oh, I’m home. I do have condoms upstairs.”
Trey breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome. I’m dying to bury myself inside you.”
Chapter 7
When Ethan heard Reagan fumbling with her key in the lock of the front door, he glanced up from the boxing match he was watching on TV. Wide smile on his face, he climbed to his feet and prepared for her excited launch into his waiting arms. He probably shouldn’t love it when she was excited about something, but Lord he missed the feel of her body against his. As far as Ethan was concerned, any excuse to embrace Reagan Elliot was a good excuse.
The door swung open and she stumbled into the room, pulling some laughing guy into the apartment by his T-shirt. Barefoot, she tossed her boots on the floor near the entryway, which freed her hand to grab onto the guy with both hands. So she could pull his mouth against hers and kiss him hungrily.
Ethan’s smile faded. She’d brought home another dipshit who was in no way good enough for her. Ethan straightened his spine, prepared to use all six feet two inches of his muscular frame to its full, intimidating advantage.
Said dipshit wrapped both arms around Reagan’s narrow back to deepen their kiss and kicked the door closed behind him. “Where’s the bedroom?” he said against her lips. His hands moved to squeeze her luscious ass. Ethan stifled an angry growl.
Reagan drew away, took the guy by the hand, and took two steps in the direction of her bedroom when she noticed Ethan standing there. At least she had the decency to flush.
“Oh, Ethan,” she said. “This is… This is Trey. My, um, new…boyfriend?” She glanced at this Trey fellow and he smiled at her like the dipshit he was.
Boyfriend? When in the hell had that happened? Ethan would have known if she’d so much as gone on a date with anyone. She still confided everything to him. The dipshit, Trey, stepped forward, his hand extended in greeting. Ethan got his first good look at the guy and his gut clenched with a powerful longing. Wow. The man was sex incarnate. This guy was straight? Ethan had a hard time buying that. Ethan’s lust was never wrong. He could pick out a piece of hot tail from a mile away, and this guy was the hottest tail he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hey,” Ethan said and accepted Trey’s hand. He could smell Reagan’s sex all over the guy, so either Trey was very confused or in denial. Or, in a perfect world, bisexual. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Trey said, his gaze raking down Ethan’s body. Yeah, this hunk of hotness was not everything Reagan thought he was. She hadn’t been able to accept Ethan’s sexuality. She wouldn’t be able to accept this new guy’s either.
“How come you haven’t mentioned Trey before?” Ethan asked Reagan.
Her cheeks went pink again. The woman cursed like a sailor, but talking about her love interests made her blush. “Well, I just met him today.”
“Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”
Reagan scowled at him and then smacked him in the arm. “Shut up. If you try to mess this up for me I’ll shave your head in your sleep and superglue the hair to your balls.”