It was sexy as shit having Lainie at their mercy. Kyle saw the appeal of threesomes—lust, flesh, urgency, power. He waited until Hank pulled out of her mouth and he mimicked the movement, easing from her gripping channel. When Hank snapped his hips and buried his c**k between Lainie’s lips, Kyle plunged to the hilt in her cunt.
Meeting Hank’s eyes as they enjoyed the same woman didn’t freak Kyle out. Hank either, apparently. Hank grinned. “I need it faster. You?”
“Yeah.”
Hank placed both hands on Lainie’s face and pumped his hips in a quicker rhythm. “This hot f**kin’ mouth of yours makes me crazy. Send me over, Lainie. Send me over and swallow every drop.”
Lainie’s answering head bob caused Hank to snarl.
Kyle knew he should reach around and stroke her clit, but his selfish side took over. He pounded into her harder and faster, greedy for the quickest path to blowing the seed from his balls. He closed his eyes when he heard Hank’s hoarse shout and the sounds of Lainie swallowing.
Four hard thrusts later, Kyle clenched his ass cheeks as pulses of heat shot out the end of his dick. He grunted as he came with each thrust, keeping a tight grip on Lainie’s butt cheeks so he didn’t fall off the damn bed. Oh, yeah. Fuck, yeah. That was what he needed. Just like that. He slowed his thrusts to short and shallow, feeling too damn good to withdraw.
She moaned, “Yes, Hank. Faster.”
Whoa. Hank? Had Lainie already mixed up their names? Kyle opened his eyes and saw Hank standing at the side of the bed, his left hand braced in the middle of Lainie’s back, his right arm moving below her as he stroked her clit. Hank murmured in Lainie’s ear as he brought her off. Again.
That’s two he’s given her, pal, and none from you.
Dammit. Lost in an orgasmic haze, Kyle hadn’t even noticed Hank had moved. Nor that Hank’s fingers were mere inches away from Kyle’s cock.
You would know if you’d been an attentive lover.
Rhythmic spasms of Lainie’s cunt clamped down on his softening c**k as she climaxed. Fuck. That was almost enough to get him hard again.
She sighed contentedly, nuzzling the side of Hank’s face as he murmured in her ear.
Probably sweet nothings. Silver-tongued motherfucker.
There it was. Kyle realized he’d have to step up his game if he wanted to keep up with Hank.
He withdrew and retreated to the bathroom. As soon as Kyle returned, Hank took his turn cleaning up.
Which left Kyle alone with Lainie. She’d already slipped on an old T-shirt and chosen the bed farthest from the door. The first night they’d spent together, he’d expected Lainie to be cuddly as a kitten after sex, but she definitely wanted her own space.
Kyle crawled next to her, not caring whether it pissed Hank off. First come, first served. Hank would get his chance, but not tonight.
Hank sprawled in his lumpy hotel bed—alone—listening to the whir of the air conditioner and Kyle’s snores.
Kyle, that opportunistic bastard, had gotten into Lainie’s bed while Hank had gone to take a leak.
You’da done the same thing, hoss.
True.
It just proved he’d made another tactical error. This situation with Lainie wasn’t as simple as Hank first believed. He’d rather cockily imagined he had a leg up on his buddy because he’d been with Lainie longer. Apparently Hank had also deluded himself that their rockin’ hot sex would weigh in his favor too.
Now Hank knew why Lainie had strayed with Kyle: Kyle ratcheted sex to a level Hank hadn’t.
Didn’t that feel like a kick in the balls.
Hank flashed back to the times he and Lainie had been naked together. He’d eked sighs and moans of sexual satisfaction from her every damn time. Several times. As soon as the hotel room door closed, they’d always been crazed to get their hands on each other. But Hank realized that somehow he always slowed it down.
Why?
A mistaken belief that all women needed extended foreplay? Because he feared he’d be too quick on the trigger if he didn’t pace himself? No, the truth was, Hank had never gotten sexually inventive with her. He’d considered her too sweet to be interested in doing the darker, kinkier things he’d imagined.
So he’d played it safe. And in playing it safe, Hank damn near lost her. He could still lose her. Kyle had brought his A game to the bedroom and Hank had rested on his belief that he had it in the bag.
Christ. He was a twenty-eight-year-old man with plenty of sexual conquests under his belt. He’d had no complaints. Still, he was worried. How could he take this to the next sexual level? He’d never been a book guy, so reading up on the thousand ways to please a woman in the sack wasn’t happening. He’d watched a fair amount of p**n . Too bad he couldn’t remember specifics, now that he needed knowledge of acrobatic or unusual sexual acts.
Or . . . did he? Was that what Lainie wanted? A different sexual scenario every time? With props, crops, cuffs, and toys? That wasn’t what happened with her and Kyle. So what had Kyle given Lainie that put such a wanton look on her face and a whimper of anticipation in her voice?
Demanding her obedience? Showing her who was in control? Maybe. Fuck. It shouldn’t be this hard to figure out where he’d made his sexual misstep. But then again, Hank hadn’t imagined he’d be lying by himself in a double bed in a hotel room while Kyle was five feet away sleeping with his woman.
Your woman? Get your head in the game or Gilly will steal this prize right from underneath your nose.