“I’ll be right back,” she says, digging through her makeup bag. She lifts her head, a smile sliding across her swollen lips. “I have to take my pill. No little mutant Brocks and Ambers for us.”
“Mm.” I nod, grinning. “Can’t say I disagree. Go do your thing. I ain’t going nowhere.”
She swipes a pair of shorts and a tank top off her dresser and makes her way out into the hall, latching the door behind her. Crossing my arms behind my head, I fix my gaze on a poster of Jared Leto, whose eyes are staring back at mine, on the ceiling. I chuckle, wondering what the fuss over the dude’s about. Before I can dwell too much on why chicks find the pansy-looking motherfucker appetizing, Amber comes back and sinks onto the bed.
I envelop her in my arms, tugging her onto my chest as I jut my chin in Jared’s direction. “You think he’s sexy? He looks like he bats for the other team.”
She slaps my shoulder. “He does not.” She twists her head around, looks at him, then back at me. “You should talk, buddy. Don’t you go both ways?”
“What?” My balls hit my stomach. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”
She lays her cheek on my chest, tracing the tattoo on my bicep as she shrugs. “I don’t know. I just figured because you and Ryder were with Hailey, that maybe you two were . . . also together.”
God help me. My girl thinks I dig guys. She might as well tell me she’s faked every orgasm I’ve given her. I slip a finger under her chin, bringing her eyes to mine.
“Ber.”
“Brock,” she replies with a shit-eating grin.
“Your assumption couldn’t be further from the truth. That was some of the finest homegrown vipe we just smoked, so I’m gonna go with you being fucking blitzed. I swing one way, and that’s in the direction of pussy. Nowhere else.”
She pops a brow. “Who are you, Tarzan?”
“Hell yeah, I am. And you’re my Jane, not my Jay. Got it?”
“Oh my God.” She giggles and sits up, straddling my waist. “Do you know how cheesy and clichéd that sounds?”
“You think I give a fuck?” I slide my hands up her silky thighs, sneaking my fingers beneath her shorts. Gotta love a girl who hates wearing panties. I graze her clit. “Ah, there it is. This . . . this right here is the only thing your man touches, plays with, or wants. Understood?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums as I push a finger inside her, breaching the barrier of her sweet pussy.
There was doubt in that little hum, and I’m not about to ignore it. “You don’t believe me?” I slide in a second finger, my thumb circling her clit. “Huh? You think I secretly want dick?”
“I never said that.” She closes her eyes, a soft moan falling from her parted lips as my third finger makes its way inside her.
“You don’t sound too convincing, Moretti.” I pull my fingers out and lift them to her mouth, watching in amazement as she sucks them clean.
“Do I sense . . . insecurity from the Brock Cunningham?” Coy smile lighting up her face, she sits up on her knees and shimmies off her cotton shorts. Her tank top follows them to the floor as she glides my boxer briefs down my legs.
Sweet Christ. I lick my lips, ready to fuck her raw. “No insecurity, baby girl. I’m all man. So is Ryder. We set a firm no-contact-what-so-fucking-ever rule before anything happened.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods, staring at me as she tugs on her nipples.
Grinning, my cock stands at attention. “Ber, if you ‘mm-hmm’ again, I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk for a week. That’s a threat you know I’ll keep.”
“Well,” she purrs, “you did tell me earlier that you were going to . . . damage my pussy.” Legs flared over my waist, she dips her head, dragging her tongue across my chest. My muscles tighten. “But before you do, I want the deets.”
“Of what?” I groan as her hand slips down my abs, her fingers skimming the head of my cock.
“Of how it all came about with you, Ryder, and Hailey.” Going in for the kill, she licks my neck and cups my balls.
Another groan, my breath halting.
Seduction 101. My girl should teach the goddamn course.
“Also,” she adds, “I wanna know everything you did to her.”
Convinced the weed was too strong for her, I sit up, my eyes pinned on hers as I carefully position her over my thighs. “You want me to tell you everything?”
“Yes.” She leans in and sucks my bottom lip between her teeth. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I deserve to know,” she whispers, the look in her eyes gutting me. She shrugs, dousing my jaw with kisses. “Like I said, I wanna know how it first happened. I also want to know why you wanna share me with other guys.”
“Not other guys, Amber. Only Ryder.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, I kiss her lips, lingering there. “And I told you how it happened. We were all drummed up, and it just . . . happened. That’s it.”
“Right, but you said you weren’t sure how many times you two banged her. Were you drunk every time you all hung out?”
“Yeah. Either that, smoked out, or both.”
A hazy memory of Hailey straddling my waist, taking a pounding from me beneath her while Ryder fucked her fast from behind decays my thoughts. At the time, there was no limit to what a few hits of the good stuff, several shots of tequila, and a willing cheerleader could bring to me on a Friday night after a big win. Before I knew it, it was happening a few times a month.