“So I’m a dipshit.” Pulling off his shirt, he sent her a lopsided grin.
Kata couldn’t help but smile. Even drunk, he was self-deprecating and funny. And true-blue. Impossible to hate, even if he wasn’t showing his good side tonight.
“You are. You’d better not ruin my birthday.”
“Hey, didn’ I bring you someone?” He gestured vaguely in Hunter’s direction as he pushed his jeans around his ankles. “He’s done this before. And the girls who worked the bars near the RTC where we went to boot usta ooh and aah about him. I brought you the best. Happy birt’day.”
Hunter had experienced a ménage before? Her gaze zipped across the room to him. What little she could see of Hunter’s expression neither confirmed nor denied Ben’s claim . . . but she didn’t imagine for an instant that he’d been a choirboy.
So “yes” was a safe assumption.
His experience should have made her feel better. He’d know what to do, how to minimize any awkwardness and maximize the pleasure. But instead of feeling relief, the truth irritated her. Of course she wasn’t special to him. He hardly knew her.
But logical or not, she wanted to be special. Or maybe she simply wanted the event to be special. Yeah, that made more sense.
“Do you want to talk about this?” Hunter asked, approaching her, his hand brushing over her hip—and sending tingles down her spine.
“No. I asked for a ménage because I wanted it. Nothing has changed.” She shrugged. “So let’s do this.”
“My kinda girl!” Slivers of moonlight peeked through the drapes, enough to see Ben leer as he shoved the bedspread aside and kicked off his boxers. He bounced onto the bed, then lay flat across the mattress. In quick work, he started stroking his cock. “I’m waitin’ . . . Why don’t you strip for us?”
Strip for them? Even if it was mostly dark in the room, she was a little self-conscious. Ben knew that. Why the hell was he pulling this shit? Because Mr. Budweiser was doing his talking for him.
Kata opened her mouth to call him on it when Hunter leaned in and whispered, “Want help?”
Impossible to pass that up. Anticipation gripped her stomach in a vise. “Yes. Please.”
God, she sounded every bit as breathless and eager as she felt.
“Very happy to,” he murmured against her neck.
His voice vibrated inside her, and she quivered as every syllable crashed through her system. Damn, this man was potent. He knew just what to say, what to do, how to make her crave his next move. She wasn’t sure she liked being so unbalanced around him. Sexually, yes, more than she wanted to admit. But being independent to the core, she refused to do anything but meet him on equal footing.
Smiling, Kata reached behind her and folded her palm over his hand. With her other, she pushed her red sweater up a bit, then guided his palm right over her breast. Even through the lace of her cups, his touch was electric. His fingers scorched her. With a catching little gasp, she melted against him.
Hunter cupped her breast, testing its weight, thumbing her nipple through the lace. Her head fell back on his shoulder, and she let out a full-fledged moan.
“From the bit I can see, that’s hot. Get her clothes off, man,” Ben barked.
“We’re taking it easy here. Going slow . . .” Hunter soothed Ben’s belligerent demand. Then he turned his attention back to her.
He kissed his way across her shoulder, one hand cradling her hip. She barely had time to process how good his touch felt before he smoothed his palm up her waist, swept across her back, then pushed her sweater over her head. He threw it at Ben.
A moment later, her friend let out a drunken holler. “Whowee! That’s it. Get her bare. My dick is aching.”
Hunter didn’t say a word. Instead, he caressed her shoulders, then lower, before easing her bra from her body. Her large breasts hung heavy, aching, tips tight and sensitive. Then Hunter’s palms were beneath them, lifting, thumbing, creating a new scatter of tingles everywhere. The ache between her legs had been a dull throb since their dance, but now? It had become a needy, demanding pang, made worse as Hunter pinched her nipples.
“I would love to see you bare for me. Panting. Wet. Eager. Even the thought of it turns me on more than I can tell you. You’ll let me leave the light on and see you that way?”
It was a question . . . yet not. The command was subtle, but there. Normally, she balked when told what to do, but hearing the hunger in Hunter’s voice made her yearn to arouse him more, whatever it took. “Maybe . . . if you admit that I’m making your dick ache, too.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” She felt him smile against her neck, just as he raked his thumbs across her nipples again. “But I’ll do my best to show you.”
He grabbed her wrist and led it behind her, right over his cock. What she’d suspected from her earlier stolen grope confirmed her suspicion. He was both very hard and sizeable—and surpassed her expectations. Taking every inch of him would be a tight fit, and Kata wanted him inside her so badly, she was nearly ready to beg.
Her stomach tightened, rolled. He was good. Really good. Had she ever wanted it so badly, even though he’d done nothing more than kiss and pet her? No.
Kata moaned. “Hunter . . .”
“Off with this skirt,” he murmured against her skin.
She nearly protested when he nudged her hand from his cock, but he set to work on her zipper. The light rasp of the little teeth filled the room, along with the sound of her own rapid breathing.
“Yeah!” Ben hollered. “She’s got gorgeous thighs. I want them wrapped around my face.”
“Patience,” Hunter scolded. “She’s not even undressed.”
“You need help hurryin’ that up?” Ben raised himself from the bed.
“No. Stay there.”
The sharp command, though not directed at her, made Kata snap to attention ... and caused her to ache in a way she didn’t understand.
With a little tap on each leg, Hunter prompted her to step out of her skirt, then threw it at Ben, who caught the little leather garment—her silly birthday indulgence. “Oh, this feels good on my dick.”
“Don’t you mess up my skirt!”
“Then hurry, babe.”
“Tell me what color panties you have on,” Hunter whispered in her ear as he felt his way across her hip. “I can feel that they’re lace, but innocent white? Black, to match your skirt? Red, because you’re daring and naughty?”