had to quit moving for me to say anything to stop him. I was spellbound. Things like this didn’t happen in my life. I didn’t allow them to. My world was safely constructed and populated with people who didn’t push my boundaries. But right now, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than these two men doing whatever they wanted to me. Old me had apparently left my body and stayed upstairs to babysit my drink.
Pike paused long enough to give me a window to say no, hovering inches from my mouth, his soft puffs of breath touching my cheeks. But I didn’t turn away. Instead, I slid my fingers along his chest, gathering the soft fabric of his T-shirt in my fists, afraid that if I didn’t hold on to something, I’d disintegrate into a heap of ash between the two of them. His lips met mine in a slow, coaxing dance, matching the beat of the music—teasing me, tasting me, licking along the seam, and then finally when I thought I’d go mad, sliding his tongue into my mouth.
I moaned into the kiss, the power of it like a thunderclap to my system. The taste of mint and alcohol mixed in with the potent flavor of unrepentant desire.
Foster groaned, as if watching another man kiss me both pained and pleased him. His hands slid down to the tops my thighs, precariously close to where I ached the most. And for the first time all night I didn’t feel like a girl among men. I felt womanly and sexy and … brave. No longer filtering my actions through my brain, I acted on pure instinct and arched my hips back toward Foster, seeking.
He met my silent request without hesitation, fitting my backside against him. The hard length of his arousal pressed against the curve of my ass.
I gasped into Pike’s kiss.
“I’m trying to be good with you, Cela,” Foster said, his voice a low growl. “But keep doing things like that and my moral compass may malfunction.”
My body shuddered at the threat, my pelvis tilting backward, dragging myself along Foster’s erection. I couldn’t help it. I was fascinated by the fact that he was so turned on. That I’d done that to him.
“Fuck.”
Pike released me from the kiss, leaving me panting for breath, and Foster spun me around, the ice blue of his eyes going black as he took in the view of me. I’m sure I looked like some crazed version of my former self—swollen lips, stained cheeks, begging eyes. He didn’t hesitate. Where Pike had left off, Foster picked up, cupping my face and coming down for a crushing kiss. My eyelids drifted shut, everything seeming to spin around me as Foster’s mouth consumed mine. Unlike Pike’s slow and sensual approach, Foster was demanding, overpowering. My legs went boneless beneath me.
But Pike had me, his hands planted on my waist, his mouth laying soft, sucking kisses to the back my neck, my shoulders.
Holy shit. Every erogenous zone in my body flared with desperate want, and heat slicked my panties. I gripped Foster’s damp hair, holding on with everything I had, and whimpered into his kiss—a plea. For what exactly, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what to do with all this … wanting.
“Ah, God.” He said, breaking from the kiss, but threading his hand in my hair and insinuating his knee between my thighs, putting pressure where I needed it most. “You’re killing me.”
The contact was like tossing my brain into the deep fryer, my better judgment evaporating in a cloud of wanton desperation. The music continued pounding around us, and my hips rocked shamelessly as he ground the hard muscle of his thigh against me, sliding my panties against tender, needy flesh. I bowed back, leaning on Pike for support, no longer noticing the crowd undulating around us. The quest for release, for Foster’s touch, kidnapped all of my senses. I had lost myself and all sense of appropriate behavior.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need … I need more.”
“Jesus.” Foster’s thigh lowered, removing the stimulation, and my eyelids slid open to find Foster raking a hand though his hair, a frantic edge to his movements. “Let’s take a break. I can’t—I need a breather or I’m going to drag you into a dark corner and give you exactly what you’re pleading for.”
My tongue swept at my bottom lip, the suggestion only making the throbbing between my thighs more pronounced. “Maybe I don’t need a break.”
Had I said that out loud? Once again I questioned where Cela had gone. I couldn’t actually be considering taking him up on that offer. I needed a taste of reckless abandon tonight, but I wasn’t qualified for the dark-corners-in-clubs kind. Did people actually do that?
“Doc,” Pike said wrapping an arm around my waist, already turning me to guide me off the dance floor. “We promised you we’d just dance. You’ve been drinking. We’re all a little … overheated. I think a break is a good idea.”
I clamped my lips together, stopping myself from the urge to protest. My body was ruling my head right now. This is what my parents used to warn me against, right? You let a guy go too far and you make mistakes—like my sister did. I needed to get some air, some perspective. The guys were trying to do the right thing. I should let them.
I allowed Pike to lead me away from the dance floor back upstairs. Foster trailed behind, a tight expression on his face. When we made it back to our corner, Pike joined me on a cushioned, curved bench, draping his arm across my shoulders, and Foster took the seat catty-corner to us. He adjusted his pants before sitting, and I felt the blush rise to my cheeks. Guess I wasn’t the only one left half-cocked.
Pike, who was clearly handling what had transpired on the dance floor better than Foster or I, ordered another round of drinks—beers and empty shot glasses. I sent him a curious look. “Interesting choice.”
He smirked. “No more hard liquor for any of us tonight. But I thought we could take a breather, cool down, and finish Never Have I Ever the proper way.”
“I think we should take Cela home,” Foster said, his tone as stiff as his posture.
I frowned over at him. Is that really what he wanted?
“Screw that. The night is young,” Pike said, that mischievous edge back in his voice. “And your blue balls will ease up soon enough.”
Foster smirked and sent Pike a one-finger salute.
My gaze dipped down to the fly of Foster’s pants, the urge to ease that discomfort for him palpable. What would he be like when he dropped all that calm, refined control? Just the glimpse I’d seen on the dance floor had made my blood race. Part of me wished I had seduction skills already in my arsenal, like those women in the dirty books I used to borrow from my dorm mate in undergrad. I imagined crawling over to Foster, situating myself between his open thighs, and taking him in my mouth, tasting him until he made that sexy groaning sound again.
My teeth dragged along my bottom lip as I raised my lashes.
Foster’s eyes locked with mine, the fierceness of his stare stealing my breath. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Cela.”
Never have I ever …
Given a guy head.
Almost climaxed in public.
… Wanted someone so much.
“I’m thinking I need a drink.”
Foster counted to a hundred backwards in his head, trying to calm down his racing heart and his determined libido. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to drag Cela somewhere private so he could ruck up her dress, wrap her legs around his waist, and fuck her hard against a wall.
He’d known dancing with her would be a lesson in restraint, but he had no idea how goddamned responsive she’d be. She’d been on the verge of coming from the simple pressure of his leg rubbing against her—her pupils dilated, her body tightening, her sexy scent drifting to his nose and scrambling his brain. If he’d been at The Ranch, he would’ve torn her panties off