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)
I stood and held my hand out for her, expecting Ramsey and Houston to do the same. “I would love to dance with you.” I looked at my boys, who still had their asses parked in their seats. Um…did they not know what was going on here? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Ramsey hook up with anyone. In fact, I was surprised we’d even gone out tonight. He’d been busy lately, always seeming to have plans when I asked.
Houston was even more private with his personal life, but it was just the three of us, and there had been times in the past when we all three went home with women before.
“Thanks for asking, but I’m going to have to pass tonight. I’m…seeing someone,” Ramsey stuttered out.
What the fuck? When had this happened? Apparently, Houston was just as confused as I was because his head whipped in Ramsey’s direction, another strange look like the one they’d shared earlier passing between them. One that was filled with all kinds of secrets and intimacy and…nooooo. I had to be wrong. Were Ramsey and Houston hooking up? There was no fucking way. Houston was bi, but as far as I knew, Ramsey wasn’t. But then I didn’t think Whitt considered himself bi either, but our dicks had rubbed together a few months ago, so knowing someone’s label didn’t mean shit.
“My knee is acting up,” Houston blurted out, which was one hundred percent a fucking lie. Okay, maybe it was bothering him, but that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t dance.
I shot a look back and forth between them, but then three beautiful women were touching me and talking, and that short-circuited my brain, leaving my dick in charge instead of the head planted on my shoulders.
“Shall we, ladies?” I asked before they grabbed me and pulled me to the dance floor.
They were apparently really fucking into me, asses grinding against my crotch, lips on my neck, hands grabbing my junk. It was hot, but for some annoying-ass reason, my gaze kept shooting to Ramsey and Houston, talking animatedly about something, before Whitt’s stupid face would make an appearance in my mind, the way his head dropped back when he came, the corded muscles in his throat when he’d drained his balls, and the way he’d said my name so softly I wasn’t sure he’d even realized he’d done it.
Why couldn’t I get that dumbass moment out of my head?
So, I got another drink, hoping to numb myself from Whitt taking over my brain like he was some kind of magician or something.
Lydia was in front of me, one of the other women behind me, sandwiching me between them when my cell buzzed against my thigh. I’d already decided I would go home with one or all of these ladies, if they were game. Three women had to make me forget one threesome with Whitt, where I didn’t even get to touch him as much as I’d wanted to, right? No. I didn’t want to touch him. Bad Tucker.
My phone went off again. I had a feeling this was likely Ramsey telling me he was going home to fuck Houston’s brains out or something, so I should check.
The text didn’t use those words exactly but did tell me they were ready to leave.
“You ladies want to get out of here with me?” I asked them. They looked back and forth at each other as if trying to decide before they said yes. “Let’s do it, then.”
When we got outside, I didn’t see Houston, but Ramsey was there. I snuck up behind him, putting my arm around him and letting the whiskey talk for me. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Huh?” Ramsey asked.
“About you and McRae. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. He’s bi, and you guys have been close for years.” Ramsey frowned, likely surprised I’d figured it out. “I saw the way he looked at you in there when you admitted being in a relationship. I’m happy for you guys. You didn’t have to hide being bi from me. No shame in the game. I fucked around with a few guys in college.”
I had a threesome with Whitt and watched him come a while ago, too.
Christ, I couldn’t imagine what anyone would say if they found out. Every member of the Rush fucking hated Whitt. Everyone in Denver did. He was a bougie, stuck-up bastard, and I’d rutted against him and had to fight myself not to kiss him. What had I been thinking?
“Jesus.” Ramsey dropped his head back. “I’m not—”
“Don’t deny it. I won’t believe you anyway. Your secret’s safe with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have three women to satisfy.”
We ended up taking a car to Lydia’s place, where I did, in fact, satisfy three women. Too bad I was thinking about a very specific prick the whole time.