24. Kylie
24
KYLIE
By the time Friday rolled around, I still hadn’t decided what I’d wear to the party. The skirt option seemed like asking for trouble. It was strange enough to go somewhere as the date of three men. Giving them permission to be their naughty selves while we were there seemed like a recipe for trouble. But there was no doubt the idea turned me on. We hadn’t had one of our bedtime stories in a few days because Parker and Mason both had tests to study for and we’d all ended up going to sleep at different times. But it’d given me ample time to lay in bed and wonder what wickedness they had in store for me.
“Are you going to be ready in half an hour?” Mason asked, passing by the open door of my bathroom.
“Yes,” I assured him, but he didn’t look convinced. His doubt probably had something to do with the fact that I was wearing a robe and had curlers in my hair.
“Have you decided?—”
“No,” I snapped. Jude appeared next to him and I waved them both off. “Can you just give me some space, please? I’m not a man, I have a lot to do before a party.” They were both ready and looked gorgeous, of course. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.
Mason looked ready to make a sarcastic response, but Jude grabbed his arm and dragged him away. They ended up on the balcony with Parker and for a few seconds, I contemplated locking them out there. Getting ready for a party was definitely easier with female roommates than male ones.
Since I still hadn’t decided what to wear, I’d started with my hair and makeup. If there was one thing I felt confident in, it was my ability to create dramatic, smokey eye makeup. When I did it well enough, people usually didn’t even notice my eye color.
Once I took the curlers out, I was pretty pleased with that, too. My straight hair finally had some body in it for a change. I did my lipstick and put on some dangly earrings. From the neck up, I was ready. Too bad I couldn’t just wear my robe. That’d probably throw Mason and his evil plan for a loop since a robe wasn’t pants or a skirt.
I hurried to my closet in the living room. The guys were still on the balcony, thank goodness. I had a feeling the others kept Mason from making my difficult decision even harder.
Three outfits I’d picked out earlier hung in front of me. One consisted of tight jeans and a halter top I’d pair with strappy sandals. The second hanger had a low-cut blouse with brown and black swirls on it. The sleeves were long and loose and gathered at the wrists. It’d go with black jeans and my ankle boots.
I’d feel pretty and at least somewhat comfortable in both of those outfits. I couldn’t go wrong with either one.
But it was the third hanger drawing my eye. Hanging from it was the only pink item of clothing I owned. The material was soft with a faint pattern of roses on it. It looked like a jacket with a matching shirt underneath, but it was actually all one piece. The sleeves were long, which I liked, but it was cropped at the waist. My favorite part was the collar which was made of fake pink fur. It totally wasn’t my style, but I’d gotten it at a thrift store a few years ago and wondered if I'd ever have a chance to use it.
Hanging under it was a light blue denim skirt. It was so short, it barely showed under the jacket, but I knew it was there.
And I knew what it’d mean if I wore it.
I just couldn’t decide. I stared at one outfit after another as if they held the secrets of the universe.
I jumped when Mason banged on the window and held up his watch. I was out of time and I knew it.
And I still couldn’t decide.
Finally, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. I visualized mountains, which seemed odd because I could’ve turned around and seen the real thing in the fading light. But it also meant seeing the guys, and that wouldn’t help me focus.
I took one calming breath after another.
And then, I opened my eyes and reached for a hanger.
Ten minutes later, feeling somewhat nervous, I poked my head out of the balcony door. “I’m ready.”
Three pairs of eyes swept up and down my body as the men got to their feet.
“I’ve never seen you in pink before,” Jude said, brushing a finger lightly over the fake fur at my collar.
“You look beautiful,” Parker said, squeezing my hand as he passed.
That left just me and Mason. He looked hot as sin in a fitted gray button-down shirt, tight black jeans, and black work boots. My eyes roamed over his body while his roamed over mine.
Finally, he spoke. “Nice skirt.” His gaze was hungry and direct.
“Thanks.”
Then he did something that shocked the hell out of me. He didn’t make a lewd comment. He didn’t smack me on the ass as he passed by. Instead, he stepped forward, holding out his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?” he asked.
Smiling, I linked my arm through his and we headed off.
Parties had never really been my thing, but it was a whole different experience attending one with three men. There was always someone to talk to. Always someone to get you a drink. And always someone to drool over, because the three of them looked mighty fine tonight.
Parker had worn a pale blue button-down shirt showing off his sculpted chest and biceps. His slacks were light gray, and it made him look vaguely European for some reason. But it worked for him, and kind of aged him up a little. He had a rather boyish face, but by not wearing black and trying to look like a badass, he looked more mature than he might have otherwise. It was a good look on him, and the tight jeans made me want to grab his bubble butt whenever he passed.
Of course, the way I understood it, I was supposed to be the grabbee , not the grabber tonight, but who knew what might happen. It was loud. It was dark. People were drinking. Anything could happen.
Jude had gone with blue jeans, brown boots, and a simple white shirt, but he’d classed it up with a blue blazer. I’d seen quite a few women checking him out tonight. But the tall, dark, and handsome thing worked for him no matter what he wore, though.
“Need another drink?” Mason asked.
“I’m good,” I said, shouting a little to be heard over the music.
“The drinks are better back at our place,” Jude said in my ear, and I nodded.
There were about fifty people here in a moderate size suburban house. But it had a basement and a good-sized backyard, and as the alcohol flowed, everyone seemed to be having a good time.
I actually saw a guy from my finance class. He waved and started over, but he changed course when he saw the three large men hovering around me. Not much of a mystery as to why.
A few people danced, and Jude pulled me against him, using his body to guide mine in time to the music. There wasn’t a lot of room, but there didn’t need to be. I liked grinding against him.
As we moved together, he bent his head and nipped at my earlobe, the same way I’d done to him in the practice room that one time. “I just can’t get over the fact you’re wearing pink.”
I chuckled. “I know. I’m a bit shocked, myself. But shouldn’t you be more surprised that I wore a skirt?”
“No,” he breathed in my ear. “I knew you’d do that.”
“You did?” I looked up at him, surprised. My strappy sandals gave me an extra three or four inches of height, but he still towered over me.
“Yeah. You like getting dirty with us.”
I raised an eyebrow, attempting a cocky look. “What makes you say that?”
He palmed my ass with his large hand and squeezed. “You can’t play coy when you choose to wear a skirt knowing full well what it meant.” He smirked. “And a skirt that’s nearly as short as those sexy little shorts you always wear.”
I blushed, but wasn’t exactly in a hurry for him to move his hand. The truth was, I was a big fan of short shorts, but I usually had an oversized shirt or sweater that literally covered my ass. This was different since the pink jacket was cropped at my waist. As I moved my hips back and forth, I felt a bare strip of skin across my stomach not covered by anything.
Minus the long sleeves, my outfit was pretty damn skimpy, but I didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed or anything like that. Not with three strong men flanking my every move.
Almost as if on cue, Mason appeared next to me, his body unconsciously swaying from side to side as he joined us. “Want to go out back?” His question was directed at me.
“Sure.”
Mason jerked his head at Parker, and then we headed to the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard.
Navigating the dark staircase leading down from the deck wasn’t easy in my heels, but Mason was in front of me and Jude directly behind. I knew they wouldn’t let me fall.
I giggled as we passed through a cloud of smoke. This was Colorado, after all. Weed didn’t interest me much, but it was legal and popular here.
Groups stood around in the dark, talking, drinking, and touching. We passed two men standing a few feet apart and I couldn’t figure out what they were doing until a large ball whizzed right toward my head. Parker grabbed my arm, jerking me out of harm’s way.
“Tetherball?” Mason muttered, staring at the ball he’d just caught. “Who the fuck plays tetherball?” Ignoring the guy who held his hands out for the ball, Mason smacked it so hard, it wound all the way up the pole.
“I used to, back in elementary school,” I said.
Parker let go of my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Thanks.” I stood on my tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He kept hold of my hand as we walked farther into the dark.
The fenced yard narrowed as we walked, but it was surprisingly long. As the noise from the partygoers faded, I realized I heard running water.
Mason, leading the way, stopped in front of a large tree with low branches. “There’s a creek back here.”
“I love the sound of running water,” I said.
“Hopefully not as much as you love mountains or we’ll never be able to drag you away from this place,” Jude said.
I laughed, reaching up to touch the paper-thin bark of the ancient tree. “This is a great tree.”
Parker shook his head in amusement. “You have the strangest turn-ons.”
Mason shrugged. “I like this tree, too.” He patted a broad, low branch, almost parallel to the ground. “Because this right here looks like it’d make a perfect bench.” His hands descended to my sides and he picked me up, setting me on the branch in front of him. My legs dangled toward the ground, but it was perfectly comfortable sitting there. Plus, Mason and I were almost eye to eye, although I thought maybe I was a fraction higher. It felt weird to be able to see the top of his head in the pale moonlight.
The branch was pretty wide, and I didn’t feel like I’d fall, but I appreciated it when Jude moved behind me and put his hands on my back. I appreciated it even more when he rubbed my shoulders. “Ooh, don’t stop,” I moaned.
“Shit,” Parker said, turning away. “When you moan like that… “ He trailed off and I suspected he’d turned away to adjust himself.
“Let’s have a little talk,” Mason said, his hands on his hips. Then his eyes fell on the plastic cup in my hands. “Are you done with that?”
I looked down. There was only an inch left of the screwdriver and it hadn’t been that good to begin with. “Yes, I’ll just?—”
He grabbed it from me and gulped down the rest. “Good.” He let the cup fall to the grass at the base of the tree.
“Hey,” I protested, totally breaking the mood. “You can’t just leave that?—”
Jude leaned in, his nose nuzzling in my hair. “We’ll get it later.” His fingers, strong from years of guitar, piano, and drums, continued working the knots out of my shoulders.
Mason put his hands on my bare knees, easing them several inches apart. “Tell me why you wore that skirt tonight.”
I blushed. “It’s a party.”
He pulled my knees farther apart, pressing his body in between them. “Don’t give me that. You know what I’m asking. Tell us what you want.”
God, he was so close. And he looked and smelled so damn good. Blood pounded between my legs, making me squirm.
Jude leaned forward and smoothed my hair away from my ear. “You want more, don’t you?” His voice was low and rumbly. “More than just bedtime stories and battery-operated toys.”
“Yes,” I breathed. Then I took a quick peek at Parker. He grinned back, and I was fairly certain Jude and Mason didn’t know I’d already sampled a bit more with him.
“You want our hands on your body.” Mason’s voice was as smooth as silk. No, as smooth as sex—if that was a thing.
It wasn’t a question, but I whispered, “Yes.”
“I told you to wear a skirt if you wanted this,” he said. “And you could’ve worn any damn skirt. But instead, you wore the shortest one you could find, didn’t you?”
“I, umm…” It was hard to think when he was so close, saying such intimate things. “I don’t have that many skirts, and?—”
“Bullshit,” Mason whispered. “You know how much we like seeing your bare legs. You torment us with them every day.” He slid his hands up and down my thighs—or at least, I thought he did. It took me a moment to realize he was stroking my right leg and Parker was stroking my left. “And tonight your legs are every bit as bare… but you don’t have those shorts to protect you.”
He slid his hand forward and his fingertip grazed my panties. I jolted and Jude pressed up behind me, keeping me steady.
“Kiss me,” Mason demanded, his finger still pressing the fabric against my heated folds.
I cupped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me, my lips already parting. I initiated the kiss, but he quickly took over, crushing his mouth against mine and setting the pace.
Cool night air caressed the side of my neck as someone smoothed my hair back. At first, I thought it was Mason, but then I felt another pair of lips on my skin. Jude was just tall enough to be able to reach me from behind.
God, it felt amazing. Mason ravished my mouth while Jude nibbled at the side of my throat. Sensations overwhelmed me and my muscles loosened as I moaned. It didn’t matter, though. Two strong men were pressed up against me, holding me up. And making me moan even louder.
And then there were three.
Parker put his foot on the branch next to me, hoisting himself up, straddling the wide branch as he faced me. The gentle slope of the branch caused him to slide into me, the hard bulge of his crotch pressing against my side. Then there was a hand in my hair and another mouth on my neck.
Holy crap.
Three men kissed me all at once. I’d never even fantasized about such a thing because it seemed impossible, but it wasn’t. Did Ronnie and her men know about this? Shivers ran up and down my spine as they kissed me.
Parker’s hand squeezed my thigh and I moaned again. My back arched and my head tilted back, giving Jude and Parker more access, but ending the kiss with Mason. He growled and gripped my upper arm, pulling me back. His mouth smashed against mine again and it felt so damn good, I almost purred with pleasure.
At last, Mason sucked my lower lip into his mouth, stretching it a little and then let it slide out. “Ready for more, sweetheart?” His voice was husky and I wondered if he realized he’d called me sweetheart instead of sweet cheeks.
“Yes,” I said.
“Then lean back.”
How? I was perched on a tree branch, though I had to admit, it was a wide and stable one. We needed to get a bench this exact height for the suite.
Then Jude’s arms snaked around my waist like a seatbelt. “I’ve got you.”
His arms felt so good hugging me to him. I leaned back against him, confident he’d never let me fall.
Mason traced his finger along the edges of my panties, his touch just firm enough not to tickle. “Such soft, sexy panties,” he said. “Are they your favorite?”
It was hard to focus with him touching me like that, but I tried. “I don’t really have a favorite pair?—”
“Good,” he said, grasping the crotch and pulling sharply. The strings holding the sides together snapped and just like that, the raw night air swirled past my heated slit.
“Touch yourself,” Mason ordered, and I gasped. Here? Now? But no one was around but the three of them. I just liked it better when they were the ones doing the touching.
Tentatively, I placed a hand on my chest, squeezing my breast through my shirt.
“Not there,” Mason said gruffly. “Jude can do that.”
What?
Jude’s hands, wrapped around my waist, slid upward. He cupped my breasts, squeezing and lifting them. Then he pushed the bra cups up, caressing my bare breasts. My loud moan echoed in the trees.
Mason took my hand and pushed it between my legs. With the way they were spread so wide, my short skirt had bunched up at my hips and wasn’t covering much of anything anymore. Mason pressed my index finger into my folds, and I stroked myself. I was so wet, my finger glided easily back and forth.
Then he reclaimed my hand, tugging it up toward his mouth. He sucked the moisture off my fingers, grunting with pleasure. “You taste so fucking good. Keep stroking yourself,” he ordered. He was bossy as hell but he had me so turned on, I couldn’t think straight.
My breathing sped up as Jude played with my nipples and I flicked my finger past my clit, then down, circling my entrance. Mason caught my hand again and lifted it up, offering it to Parker. “Want to taste her?”
“Already have,” Parker said smugly.
Mason shook his head. “I knew it, you son of a bitch.” He sounded more impressed than angry, though. Men were weird.
“I haven’t,” Jude said from behind me, and I wiggled my hand out of Mason’s grip and crossed my arm across my chest, resting my hand on my opposite shoulder. Jude’s warm mouth engulfed my fingers. Mm… there was nothing like a man who knew how much suction to apply.
Jude let my fingers slide out of his mouth and I turned my attention back to Mason.
“Have you thought about all three of us touching you like this?” He pushed my thigh to the side. “Hold her other leg,” he said to Parker. My legs were spread about as wide as they could get. Mason ground against me, the hard bulge in his pants lining up perfectly with my heated folds.
I moaned and threw my head back, almost hitting Jude. “Easy there,” he whispered. As he rolled my nipples with his fingers, I turned my head, and his mouth met mine for a quick but intense kiss. But then he nudged me forward again. “I believe Mason asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I said, repeating it so they’d know it wasn’t just a moan. “Yes, I’ve thought about all three of you touching me.”
“What else?” Mason demanded.
“All of the things we talk about at night,” I said, moaning between responses. The denim of Mason’s jeans was rough, but the way he ground against me drove me crazy.
“Do you want those things to happen for real?” Parker asked. His voice was like a soothing balm compared to the rough, husky cadence of Mason’s when he was turned on.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“They can, you know,” Parker said.
Which ones was he referring to? I wanted to know, but then Mason knelt down so his head was between my legs.
Oh God.
Oh my God, was he really going to?—
Yes. The answer was yes. Here at the party. At night. With his two closest friends right next to him.
His tongue touched my seam and I shrieked.
Parker chuckled and squeezed my thigh that he was still holding. Then he took my chin in his free hand and tilted my head toward him. He kissed me, a gentle, reassuring kiss. It felt so good I didn’t even jump when Mason slid his tongue between my folds and found my clit. The quick contact almost triggered the sensations built up inside me to overflow, but then his tongue was gone, and a long finger circled my entrance.
“Just let it happen,” Parker said. “You know you want to.”
I did. I really did. But it was just so much. I’d never had three men touch me before. I’d never had my nipples stimulated and my slit licked and my mouth kissed all at the same time. It felt like the impending orgasm might be so strong, it’d break me.
Mason flicked his tongue past my clit again as his finger pushed inside me, and I knew I was close. Jude knew it too, and he whispered dirty things in my ear, tugging on my nipples. Parker pulled my thigh back even more, stretching me wide and gripping me tightly.
So many hands on me. Rubbing. Stroking. And God, Mason’s tongue was like magic. My legs trembled as the twin sensations of pleasure and pressure built inside me. My breath came out in ineffective little gasps and my moans got louder.
“Come for us,” Jude said. It wasn’t an order, it was an offer.
And I couldn’t help but take him up on it.
My inner walls clamped down around Mason’s finger as I cried out, my body quaking with pleasure. Jude slid his teeth down the side of my neck and it added yet another thrill. Parker ran his fingernails across the soft skin of my inner thigh. I gasped for air as my inner walls clamped down on Mason’s finger.
He kept flicking his tongue across my clit until it became too much and I put my hand on his head. He backed off, but kept his finger inside me.
All my weight was on Jude, and if he hadn’t been there, I would’ve slid backwards off the branch. But he had me—his arms were back around my waist, keeping me in place.
“God,” I muttered, completely spent.
Mason straightened up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. For some reason, the gesture struck me as sexy as hell.
“Now that you’ve come, it’s our turn, sweet cheeks,” Mason growled.
For a moment, I thought he meant out here in the dark, but he didn’t.
“We’re going to go back to the room, and tonight, the bedtime story is all on you. You’re going to tell us every single thing you’d like us to do to you. Every single fantasy you’ve ever had about us, no matter how nasty. And maybe, just maybe, after we’ve come, we’ll let you come again. Got it?”
It took a moment for his words to filter through my post organic haze, but when they did, my arousal returned, full force. “Got it.”
“Good.” He set me down and Jude ducked under the branch, picking up the cup we’d dropped before, and what remained of my panties. He grabbed one hand and Parker clasped the other as we made a beeline for the car. The guys moved so fast I barely kept up, but I was as eager to get back to the suite as they were.
Except, as we passed the side of the house, I noticed the stilted way Mason walked. It couldn’t have been easy to hurry with a huge erection like that.
So I guessed I could say I was almost as eager to get back to the suite as they were.