Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Tucker wouldn’t fucking leave. The three of us had been talking for an hour, Monica acting as a kind of hinge between the two of us, asking about our teams, Denver. Tucker’s presence was like a fly buzzing around my head, irritating and distracting. I was ready to make my move with Monica, but it was hard to concentrate with him there. And, unfortunately, Monica seemed to be enjoying his company as much as mine. I had to reluctantly admit Tucker was pretty funny when he wasn’t being a cocky asshole, but my patience was wearing thin, and I knew I needed to make a move before Tucker ruined my chances.
I leaned in closer to Monica. “You know, I’ve been wanting to switch up my training routine lately. Maybe you could give me some personal tips.”
“Sounds like a snooze fest. How about you come with me and have the time of your life,” Tucker cut in before Monica could reply.
“Orrrr…” Monica batted her lashes coquettishly at us. “You could both come home with me. I’m always up for an adventure, and I haven’t been sitting here with the two of you all night just to play eenie-meanie-miney-mo.”
While I tried not to choke on my last swallow of beer, Tucker chuckled without missing a beat. “A woman who knows what she wants. I definitely appreciate that. I’m down, but Pretty Boy Floyd over there is probably a little too uptight for the kind of adventure you and I are game for. Maybe we should leave him behind.”
That definitely wasn’t in the fucking plan. Tucker, Monica, and me? It was laughable. So laughable there was no fucking way he was serious, no way this would actually go down. One of us was gonna concede, and it definitely wasn’t gonna be me.
“I’m in.” I affected a casual shrug, loving the way Tucker tried to hide his double take. Catching him off guard was instantly my new favorite pastime. How’s it feel now, fucker? Still keen on a threesome? The expression on Tucker’s face suggested he was two seconds from tapping out, so I pressed forward. “I’m not kissing him or anything.” I offered the caveat with an affable grin. “Maybe ol’ Tuck here could learn a few things, though, take some notes.”
Tucker smirked. “That some sort of flex? I never assumed that bougie mouth was good for anything besides talking shit.”
“Ouch,” Monica whispered with a smile and then said, louder, “This night is already one of the most interesting of my life.”
I pressed my lips together, tamping down the urge to bite out a reply as my blood pressure spiked. Interesting wasn’t exactly what I’d call it.
“So… In or out, fellas?” Monica continued, sliding from her stool and tossing some cash on the bar before she stretched, giving me a peek of her smooth stomach that I would’ve been able to appreciate much more if Tucker’s big-ass shoulders hadn’t been lurking behind her.
My gaze swerved toward Tucker, where it met his dark eyes. He arched a brow, maintaining the level stare.
I held steady, too, as I said, “I’m in.”
“In,” Tucker fired back just as quickly, and I knew just by the return of his cocky smirk I’d shown my hand. If I bailed now, he’d win. Petty? Yeah. But fuck it.
“Let’s go, then.”
I’d never been in a threesome that included another man. The closest I’d come was freshman year of college when my roommate and I had both hooked up with other women at the same time in our cramped room in the athletic dorms. It’d been dark, I’d been drunk as hell, and the memory was fuzzier than a yellow peach. Nothing like the technicolor eroticism happening right next to me as Monica lowered the zipper on Tucker’s fly, took his cock in her hand, and stroked it with an appreciative hum.
I’d assumed it was going to be awkward as fuck, and it had definitely started that way with the three of us returning to Monica’s apartment and sharing some beers on her couch. I didn’t know how these things kicked off, but I guess Tucker and Monica were no strangers to multiple partners at once because somewhere around my fifth nervous swallow of beer, they’d seemed to communicate telepathically that it was go time, Tucker pulling Monica onto his lap and kissing her long and slow.
And now I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Off Tucker, more specifically. He let his head fall back, lips parted in bliss as Monica licked and sucked his tip while stroking his shaft. I’d never seen that expression on him, how it softened his features in some places, tightened them in others. And his dick, Jesus, it was so hard. He was disarmingly sexy, and I hated how my cock was reacting. I was supposed to be focused on Monica, supposed to be inserting myself into the fray, touching her, kissing her, something, but three minutes in and I was more curious about how Tucker kissed, what he tasted like.