Now I just have to figure out how to cope with sharing what I know the good Lord above created for me, and me only.
I might be determined to make this . . . unique arrangement work, but I’m sure it won’t happen without me losing my shit somewhere along the way. It’s nearly impossible. If I do reach my goal of keeping the peace in our little trio without killing my best friend, there’s no doubt a pair of cuffs, a blindfold, a dark cabin hidden away in the woods, and a warrant for my arrest—regarding Amber’s kidnapping—will be involved.
Sure. My IQ borders genius, but I’ve never once claimed to possess much in the way of sanity. Where Amber’s concerned, all bets and every lick of common sense are off.
Amber looks up at me, concern edging her eyes. I swear the girl can read me like a goddamn book, her thoughts in tune with everything—except my plan of possibly holding her captive against her will—flying through my head as she studies me.
I grin, attempting to brush off what I’m aware she can see.
She casts me one last worried glance before she sighs, her pout all kinds of cute as she leans against the marble tile surrounding the Jacuzzi. “Lord help me,” she says with an exhausted groan, “you two are predators, sex addicts at their best. Believe me when I say there’s not a muscle in me that’s not sore, weak, and pissed for what I allowed you two to put it through. So, sadly, I must RSVP no to your invitation.”
Brock and I shake our heads, chuckling as an impish smile colors her face. “On top of feeling like I can sleep for an entire month, I think I broke a rib during our little sexcapade. I couldn’t go another round if I tried.” She pauses, her demeanor flipping from depleted to vixen in under a second. “Well, not yet, at least.”
Clearly intent on driving us nuts, she slides her hands up her thighs, along the flat of her stomach, over the gorgeous swell of her tits, and into her hair, where she knots her fingers through the dark, wavy strands. “Give me a few hours to recover.” She spreads her legs, her soft moan causing me to swallow what feels like a lump the size of a golf ball as she lifts her thick, silky mane off her neck, piling it on top of her head. “I beg thee both, masters, for mercy.”
Sweet fuck.
I might’ve brought her in here with the intention of spoiling her without using my cock, but I’m about to “master” the “master” right outta her if she keeps this shit up, all thoughts of treating her to a simple bubble bath and massage vanishing with every come-hither look she tosses my way.
Struggling to maintain what little composure I have left, I pull my attention from the temple of Amber’s body and begrudgingly bring it to the double granite sink, my balls aching as I pluck a small bottle of apple-scented bubble bath from a glass shelf. I pop off the top and, before I can take a whiff of the stuff, catch Amber’s reflection. With a coy smile aimed in my direction, she pinches her nipples and spreads her legs wider, the sweet sound of her lusty little whimper adding additional pain to my balls as she kicks me a wink.
I’ve never found a mirror to be so resourceful yet so goddamn torturous at the same time.
I approach the tub, dumping the entire bottle of bubble bath into the thing. Bubbles. Only bubbles can save Amber now. If she isn’t covered from her glorious neck right down to her pretty pink glitter–painted toenails, it’s on. I’ll have no other choice but to show her what a true “master” is.
“Mm. You’re real good at this, peach. Real goddamn good.” I look at Brock. “I should’ve been warned about her ability to cause such sweet, agonizing torture to a man. It’s a talent unlike any I’ve ever encountered. Not cool, bro.”
Appearing to struggle with his own restraint, Brock wraps a towel around his waist, and takes in Amber a long moment, hunger darkening his eyes as he lifts her up, gently setting her inside the Jacuzzi. He reaches over her shoulder and turns on the water, steam thickening the air as he twists it to the hottest setting.
He sinks to his knees, flanking the marble oasis, and leans over, pressing his lips to Amber’s ear. “Talented she is,” he says with a grin. She gasps, her eyes fluttering closed as his finger draws a slow circle around her nipple, his touch instantly hardening the luscious, pink bud. “And you, my friend, have yet to experience all her many delectable talents. If she grows to like you enough, maybe she’ll show ya everything she’s got. If not, it’ll blow for you.”
The sight of him sucking her lobe between his teeth, noticeable shudders moving through her, and his douchebag statement further ignite my jealousy for what they share, for what I’ll most likely never get to experience with Amber. She might mentally belong to me—hell, for all I know, she might not even, the whole damn thing just wishful thinking on my part—but their bond is too strong, an impenetrable connection that—on my best day—I couldn’t come close to touching.
Brock pulls his attention from Amber, a smile cracking the asshole’s face. “And I wasn’t about to warn you about shit. I suffer, you suffer right alongside me. If you’re gonna hang around, enjoying my girlfriend, you better get used to it.”
Ignoring my urge to snap his neck, toss him out the window, and worry about cleaning up the mess after I’ve enjoyed Amber by myself, I yank a towel off the rack, knot it around my waist, and squat on the edge of the Jacuzzi. Her toe sneaks up from beneath the pool of bubbles, pressing against the chrome knob to shut off the water.
With a sated smile, she rests her arms on either side of the Jacuzzi and cushions her head on a spa pillow, tiny beads of sweat dotting her skin as she looks between Brock and me. “God, I needed this. Tonight was . . . It was amazing. Everything I could’ve ever imagined it’d be, and then some. I’ve never been one to gas up a dude’s ego—whether or not it’s merited—but both of you made me . . . forget about my past for a while. Gave pleasure to my body, but more importantly, gave me a sliver of peace.” Her voice softens to a whisper. “There’s no way to fully explain it. Even if I could, it wouldn’t be accurate.” Her smile falls as she touches her hand to my knee, then Brock’s. “You were right, baby,” she says, staring into Brock’s eyes. “Being with the two of you took some of my pain away, even if just for a few hours.” My stomach dips, my heart aching for the shit I know will forever plague her thoughts. “But,” she continues, seemingly catching herself opening up to us a little more than what’s usual for her, “you two did a number on me.”