Roommates Box Set #4-6

23. Sierra

23

SIERRA

An hour later I was perched on the sofa, my leg crossed and pushing out of the slit in my dress to emphasize the fact that so far, I’d only lost one shoe.

I couldn’t say the same for my companions.

Tristan sat next to me on the sofa, and he was down to his shirt and boxers—which is how I came to learn that he has really awesome legs. Strong and well-shaped, and the hair was light, like the stubble that lined his jaw.

I also learned that unlike the boxer-briefs that Drew favored, regular boxers tended to reveal more than their owners might suspect. Half the time, when Tristan leaned forward to pick up a card, his boxers gaped open, giving me quite the show.

Drew was on the beanbag chair near my feet. He still had on his pants, underwear, and one sock. Between hands, he’d given me a foot rub, joking that if I let myself lose more often, he could rub both feet.

Yeah… that wasn’t going to happen.

And then there was Carter. He’d pulled the armchair up to the other side of the table, so I had a good view of him—and I’d have an even better view of him when he lost his one remaining item of clothing, his jeans.

His trademark smirk was nowhere to be found while we played. I got the sense that he didn’t mind the thought of being naked, but he hated the idea of losing.

Still, it hadn’t cramped his style. He made a big production of taking off each item of clothing. He’d even twirled his shirt around like a stripper and then thrown it over to me. It was sitting next to me now, and every once in a while, I stroked a finger over the soft fabric.

I wondered if losing his pants might be the thing that finally wiped that smirk off of Otto’s face.

Taking a sip of my wine, I decided to rub it in a bit. “Hey, Drew?” I grinned down at him.

“Yes?”

“What happens if you lose this round?”

He grinned. “I lose a sock.”

“And what happens if I lose this round?”

“I get to rub both your feet.”

“Too true. But—maybe it’s the wine, but what happens if Carter loses this round?”

“He loses all his dignity,” Drew said with a wicked grin.

“Nope… Cinderella over there becomes so turned on she soaks her panties and takes them off voluntarily,” Carter corrected. He’d started calling me that because I lost a shoe.

“Not going to happen,” I said smugly, though in actuality, it was pretty damn hard to look away from Carter. He had on black boxer briefs that hugged him in all the right places.

On the next hand, Drew had lost his sock. Big deal.

Then I had a very bad draw, and for a moment, it looked like I was going to lose. But it turned out that Tristan had an even worse hand than me, and just like that, his shirt was off.

And then it happened. Carter took a risk—and it didn’t pay off. He looked disgusted as he tossed his cards on the coffee table. His eyes were on me when he stood up. “Got a good view, Cinderella?”

“I can see just fine,” I said. My heart was beating faster, and I couldn’t help wondering if his cock was bigger or smaller than Drew’s. Tristan’s, from the brief flashes I’d seen of it, looked pretty sizable as well.

Carter stood in front of us, his sculpted torso bare. The only thing he had on were his jeans—until they weren’t anymore. He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and peeled the denim down, exposing one inch after another after another of his long cock.

Good god, it looked like it hung halfway down to his knees.

My smug smile vanished as Carter kicked his jeans away and straightened up. Clothed or unclothed, he was gorgeous, but I couldn’t help staring at his cock. It was just so damn big. Would it really get even bigger when it was hard?

“Sierra? Are you okay?” Drew asked, sounding concerned.

At the same time, Tristan spoke to Carter. “Stop being an ass and sit down.”

He did sit, sinking deep into the armchair, but his legs were spread, and I could see everything.

Suddenly, I felt faint.

“Sierra?” This time it was Tristan who sounded concerned.

“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice sounded shaky.

“We can quit,” Drew said. “It’s getting late anyway.”

“I’m fine. But… are they always that big?”

Carter smirked, but it wasn’t just him I was talking about.

“Drew’s was, too, and…” I trailed off, gesturing in the direction of Tristan’s boxer shorts. “How… how does something that big… fit inside?”

“Oh, shit,” Tristan said, staring at me. “Sierra, honey… are you a virgin?”

“Of course she isn’t,” Drew said fiercely at the same time Carter said, “Of course she is.”

I said nothing, still feeling shaky. The acting skills that had helped me bluff my way through countless hands of poker had completely deserted me.

“This is fucked up,” Tristan said.

Carter shook his head. “She practically has the word ‘virgin’ tattooed on her forehead. You really didn’t pick up on that?”

Tristan turned to me. “I thought it was like the kissing. Like you’d done it, but it hadn’t been good. I’m sorry.”

He stood up, likely unaware that he’d just flashed me again. Why did men even wear regular boxers when they didn’t support or even conceal their cocks?

Tristan grabbed a blanket and threw it at Carter. “Cover yourself up. This evening’s over.”

Drew pulled on his shirt, but he was still watching me like a hawk. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, and then managed to find my voice. “Yeah. I just got a little dizzy. I think maybe it was the wine.”

Carter snorted. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Shut up,” Tristan ordered. Then he held out a hand to me. I took it, getting carefully to my feet, which wasn’t easy with just one shoe on. “I’m sorry, Sierra. We never would’ve done this if we’d known.”

He led me over to the door of my bedroom. It was only ten feet away, but it felt a little like a walk of shame—not because I’d done something sexual, but because they didn’t deem me mature enough to do so.

Tristan paused at the door. “I hope you sleep well tonight, sweetheart.”

Since when did he start calling me that? I looked down, trying to make sense of what was happening, and realized that I was clutching Carter’s dress shirt.

Tristan kissed me lightly on the forehead and walked away. It was Drew’s turn, then. His shirt was on but unbuttoned as he brought me my other shoe. “Care to try it on to see if it fits, princess?”

God, they were being weird. The only one not behaving abnormally was Carter—if a naked, hugely endowed hottie could ever be considered normal.

Drew smiled, squeezed my hand. “See you in the morning,” he whispered. He shut the door and left.

Kicking off my other shoe, I made my way to my bed and sat down.

What the hell had just happened?

One moment the four of us were having fun. Naughty fun, but fun nonetheless. And yeah, my eyes were probably bulging out of my head half the time, but wouldn’t they have done the same if I had been the one who lost my clothes? Hell, they did quite enough staring when they first saw me in my dress.

I slid my fingers down the slinky fabric over my thigh, enjoying the way it felt. I loved this dress. That was why I’d chosen it to go out on the town with Kylie and her guys. When Drew showed up with my suitcase today and I realized I could wear it for the three of them, I’d been so happy. A little shy, a little scared, but also happy.

And I’d been brave, dammit. During dinner. During the game. So why did they lock me up in my room like a child? Or, keeping with the Cinderella theme, it was like he’d locked me up in a tower. A princess wasn’t allowed to interact with the commoners.

Reaching behind me, I caught the zipper and pulled it down. Not an easy task, but I got it. Then I slid out of my beautiful dress. There wasn’t any place to hang it in the small room, but I folded it in half and then in half again and placed it on top of the dresser.

A small mirror over the dresser reflected my black balconette bra. It was one of my favorites, and the only one I owned that worked with such a low-cut dress. That’s why I’d packed it in the suitcase.

I’d gone into the strip poker game fairly confident I wouldn’t be showing my underwear to anyone, but would it have been so terrible if I had? It was true, I hated the idea of anyone seeing my body without my permission. Like when I was sleeping or filming an intimate scene. But if I chose to show myself to someone—or someones —I trusted, was that really such a bad thing?

Tristan seemed to think so. He also seemed to think that being a virgin was a terrible thing. Or at least a reason to be locked up in a tower away from everyone else.

But why the hell was that his decision to make? He wasn’t my mom. Or my agent or a director.

The more I paced around the little room, the angrier I got. It was his reaction that made it seem shameful. When I told him I didn’t like kissing, he’d been eager to show me what I was missing. But when he found out I was a virgin, he’d apparently decided that I must remain one for the rest of my life.

Carter had been forward and suggestive all night, but he hadn’t reacted the way Tristan had. I walked over to the bed and picked up his grey shirt, holding it to my nose. It smelled good. I pulled it on over my black bra and panties, letting it hang open like a robe without a belt.

Carter had known all along I was a virgin, and he hadn’t treated me any differently for it. Nor had Drew—or had he? He’d pretty much treated me with kid gloves from the start.

But I wasn’t a kid. I was a grown woman.

And I was far too old for someone to send me to my room.