Chapter Twenty-Three Charlotte
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHARLOTTE
Sexual support animals
I PARK MY CAR A FEW HOUSES AWAY FROM MY DESTINATION BECAUSE I refuse to take the chance of anyone seeing it in case I spend the night.
Not that I plan on spending the night.
We’re just watching a movie.
I’m not going to have sex with two hockey players.
It’s.
Just.
A movie.
When I told Faith I was going over to Will Larsen’s house tonight, she interrogated me like she caught me trying to smuggle cocaine over the border. Who gave you the drugs! Who introduced you to Will Larsen!
I told her he’s my lab partner. We met in class, he asked me out, and I had drinks with him in Boston the other night. Which then earned me a long lecture and a guilt trip because I chose to make Dante my murder contact for that date instead of Faith.
I take a deep breath and stare at their house. The lights are on. A shadow moves behind the curtains, and I hear the faint sound of laughter spilling out into the night.
My heart will not stop pounding. My palms are damp. I wipe them on my skirt and force myself to step out of the car.
This is crazy.
I walk up the path.
What am I even doing here?
I’ve never done anything like this before. I thought all the kinky sex talk would stay on the app. How did it become reality? It was supposed to be harmless teasing. Spank bank material for those long, stressful nights while I work on my capstone.
Anxiety buzzes in my veins as I ring the bell. The door swings open a moment later, and there’s Beckett, grinning at me.
“Hey,” he says, stepping aside to let me in.
His white shirt is unbuttoned.
Who does that to a woman?
I can barely wrest my gaze off the strip of flesh between the two parts of his shirt. Tanned and muscular. Those abs.
“Hi,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Come in.”
In the living room, Will is lounging on the sectional’s chaise, his socked feet propped up on the coffee table. He wears black track pants and a Briar U T-shirt, both items emphasizing long limbs and sculpted muscles.
He glances up when I enter, his gaze sweeping over me, taking in every detail.
I didn’t dress up. I didn’t dress down either, though. I selected an outfit that I’d wear on any other date. Navy corduroy skirt over black thigh-high socks and a cropped gray sweater over a white tank. My hair is tied in a low ponytail, and my only makeup is some lip gloss.
“Hey,” Will greets me. “You look cute.”
Ugh. That easygoing boy-next-door smile affects me every time. “Thanks.”
“Have a seat.”
“Want a drink?” Beckett offers. “Water? Beer?”
“Do you have green tea?”
Oh my God, what kind of question is that? They’re two college boys living in a man cave. Of course they don’t have green tea.
“Let me go look. Shane’s mom stocked our cupboards with a bunch of teas when he lived here.”
Beckett disappears into the kitchen, leaving Will to smile at me again. “You can sit down, you know.”
After a few seconds of hesitation, I sit in the middle section of the U-shaped couch, close to Will.
“How was your game?” I ask, because I know they played this afternoon. That’s why we’re hanging out this late. It’s already past nine.
“Total shit show,” he says, his tone flat, “but we squeaked out the win. No thanks to my dad. He set up this TV segment about college hockey and sicced a cameraman on us.”
“Oh, I saw that when I went to your game with Blake and Gigi Graham.”
Will breaks out in another grin. “You came to a game?”
“Don’t read too much into it. I was doing it for Blake.”
“Uh-huh.” He slants his head. “Was this before or after you found out who we were?”
“Before. But that’s when I started putting it together. Who were you playing tonight?”
“Yale. Stuck-up assholes.”
I laugh, feeling some of the tension in my chest melt away. Will always puts me at ease. “Hey, I grew up fifteen minutes from New Haven.”
“Right. You’re a Connecticut girl. Does your family still live there?”
“My parents and brother. My sister is in Manhattan.”
“You’re in luck.” Beckett reappears with a big blue mug in one hand and two beer bottles in the other. “We had green tea.”
He sets the cup on a coaster near me, steam rising from the rim. Then he passes Will a beer.
“I didn’t put any milk or sugar in it. But I’ll go grab some if you want.”
“No need. This is how I like it. Thank you.”
“I live to serve you, sugar puff.”
I glare at him. “Can we retire that nickname?”
“Nope.” Winking, he twists off his bottle cap, then plops down next to me. He rests his arm against the back of the couch, right behind my head.
He smells like citrus and sandalwood, and whatever shampoo he uses must have coconut in it because I catch a whiff of that too. His crisp, clean scent reminds me of the ocean. And his nearness creates sparks of electricity in my body, reminding me why I’m here in the first place.
“So,” Beckett says in a playful tone, “what do you want to do? We could put on a movie, play some video games, or…whatever you’re in the mood for.”
My stomach flutters at the suggestion. “A movie sounds good.”
“What do you want to watch?” Will asks, reaching for the remote.
“Um. Surprise me.”
My nerves are frayed at the edges. I know I said no expectations, but it almost feels inevitable that I’ll wind up making out with them again. And maybe more. The attraction is too strong.
But while the idea of hooking up with them is thrilling, it’s also terrifying. I have no idea what to expect, and the uncertainty is killing me.
Beckett must sense the tension I’m radiating because he softens his voice. “It’s just a movie, Charlie.”
I gulp. “Okay.” I look at Will, who nods in agreement.
As the opening credits roll on the screen, I try to relax, but it’s difficult with Beckett on one side of me and Will on the other. Any other girl would kill to be in my position. Sandwiched between two good-looking hockey players, being the center of their attention, the object of their affection.
I feel the tension building again, but I push it down, determined to keep things light. I’m not here to stress out. I do enough of that in my regular life. Tonight, I’m supposed to be enjoying the fun part of my double life. I’m supposed to be wild and free.
The movie kicks off with a flirty, banter-filled scene between the lead characters, and my cheeks heat up when I realize what we’re in for.
I shoot a sideways glance at Will. “Didn’t take you for the rom-com type.”
“Hey, it’s not just any rom-com. I heard this one has nudity.”
Beckett snorts.
I love a good rom-com, and I’m enjoying this one until it suddenly hits a bit too close to home: the female lead, a quirky, clumsy blond named Jessie, is adopted. And that’s not the only similarity.
My hand trembles as I reach for my mug. I take a sip, the hot liquid warming my throat on the way down.
“You okay?” Beckett asks. “Your face got real serious.”
“I was just trying to figure out if this is a gigantic coincidence or if you guys somehow hacked into my email.”
“Huh?”
Will pauses the movie. “What?”
I hesitate, because it’s heavy subject matter for a movie date. “The plotline about Jessie tracking down her biological parents feels like it was plucked out of my own life.”
Feeling awkward, I explain how I signed up for BioRoots and discovered I have a brother out there somewhere.
“He really never responded?” Will looks sympathetic.
“Nope.” I set the mug down, unable to hide my disappointment. I’ve been trying not to think about that empty inbox, the green “read” checkmark next to my outgoing message.
“You could reach out again,” Beckett suggests.
“No. If he wanted to talk to me, he would.” I give a half shrug. “I’m not going to push it.”
“Well, I guarantee he’s missing out,” Will says gruffly, reaching over to touch my knee. He gives it a soft squeeze, and while I know it’s intended as a gesture of reassurance, it quickens my pulse.
I swallow. “It…is what it is. C’mon, let’s keep watching.”
He unpauses the movie, which turns out to be not only a rom-com but a love triangle. Jessie is torn between her attorney boyfriend and the brooding bartender in the small town where she winds up during her search for her roots.
Beckett nudges me with his elbow. “Who do you think she’s going to choose? Hot lawyer or Mr. Broody?”
“Maybe she won’t choose either. Maybe she’ll run off and become a nun.”
Will chuckles from the chaise. “Nah. She’s got to pick someone. The tension’s killing her.”
That triggers a snicker from Beckett.
Heat rises in my cheeks. I laugh nervously, the movie’s suggestive scenes not helping my racing thoughts. On-screen, Jessie and Hot Lawyer are having a heated conversation that quickly turns into something physical. Then the movie earns its nudity warning by showing us Jessie’s breasts. Nipples and all. I gasp when Hot Lawyer drops his pants and we catch a split-second glimpse of his penis.
“You guys! This movie is getting intense. We just saw boobs and a boner.”
“Really?” Will says, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Beckett’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Yeah, baby girl. Get your head out of the gutter.”
I can’t help but squirm a little. This is more than I’d bargained for. “I’m starting to think this was a setup.”
Will winks at me. “A setup? Nah. Total random movie choice. I swear.”
“Super random,” Beckett says.
There’s no denying the electricity in the air. “You guys are impossible.”
On the screen, Jessie is now telling Hot Lawyer she can’t go back to the city with him. Not until she finds what she’s looking for in this town. After he leaves in anger, she goes for a walk and ends up making out with Mr. Broody in the peach orchard behind their houses.
Beckett rests his hand on my thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through my skirt. On my other side, Will’s arm is still stretched out, his palm curled over my knee.
“Are you trying to tease me?” I blurt out.
“You think this is teasing? A hand on your leg?” Beckett drawls. “That’s fucking cute.”
“So it’s not?”
“No.” His palm slides higher on my thigh, dipping just below the hem of my skirt. “This is.”
I bite my lip, the tension in the air reaching a fever pitch. I’m hyperaware of them, the heat radiating off their bodies. I try to focus on the movie, but Jessie’s love life is no longer of interest to me.
My own is far more noteworthy.
Will’s hand abandons my knee and travels north, reaching my sweater. His fingers brush the bare skin of my waist where the sweater has ridden up, and the featherlight touch sends a shiver down my spine.
It’s difficult to think straight with the way they’re both touching me.
“I think…” I swallow, trying to focus. “I want that beer after all.”
“I got you.” Chuckling, Beckett ducks into the kitchen, returning with a beer for me.
“Thanks.” I take a desperate swig, not even caring that it’s going to turn my cheeks into tomatoes. “So. Is every time a threesome with you guys? Like…you’re each other’s sexual support animals?”
Beckett nearly spits out his beer.
“Every time is not a threesome,” Will says with a crooked grin.
“Then you hook up with women one-on-one?”
“All the time.” Beckett is equally amused. “Also, unlike you, Ms. I Must Be Satisfied Thrice Daily—and contrary to popular belief—not all men are looking to bang ten times a day. Sometimes you need a day off.”
“First of all, once daily is enough.” I give him a haughty look.
“See,” he says, “that’s why this arrangement”—he gestures between him and Will—“was tailor-made for Charlotte Kingston. The days when I’m too tired to service you, I can just tag Larsen in.”
I snort out a laugh. “I appreciate your problem-solving skills. What about the days when you’re both too tired?”
“We’ll call it a solo night, and you’ll have to take care of business yourself.”
“On it. I’ve been single for eight months. Every night is a solo night.”
“How many times did you come from our chats?”
I sigh. “A lot.”
“Just so you know,” Beckett says, “I’ve spent a lot of time imagining what you sound like when you come.”
I choke mid-sip and proceed to break out in a coughing fit.
He smiles innocently.
Recovering, I swallow my beer and wipe the corner of my mouth where some spilled. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I live at Delta Pi. Agatha won’t allow screaming orgasms without calling you in front of the executive board. Therefore, I’m quiet as a mouse.”
“Technically, mice aren’t silent,” Beckett points out. “They squeak.”
“I don’t squeak when I orgasm,” I protest with a giggle. “Seriously, when I’m at home, I’ve perfected the art of staying quiet during a solo session.”
That intrigues him. “Bullshit.”
In an abrupt motion, Will climbs off the chaise. “Need a drink,” he says before disappearing into the kitchen.
“What was that?” I lift a brow at Beckett, who shrugs. But at Will’s return, he hoots at what his friend is holding.
“Well, fuck,” says Beckett.
I’m even more confused now. I watch as Will opens the whiskey bottle and sloshes the amber liquid into a Boston Bruins shot glass. He slugs it back and grimaces.
“What am I missing here?” I ask.
Beckett snorts. “You got Larsen so tied up in knots, he needed to take a shot.”
I turn to Will. “Is that true?”
“Maybe,” he says with a hint of a smile. “But only because I see exactly where this is going.”
My heart skips. “And where’s that?”
“Beck’s about to dare you to get yourself off without making a sound.”
All the breath leaves my body. I swing my head to Beckett, who’s grinning.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Perv.”
“I mean, yes. But it’s not a dare so much as a challenge. I genuinely don’t believe you can do it.”
“Stop trying to trick me into touching myself.”
Beckett leans in closer, his lips grazing my ear. “Stop pretending you don’t want to.”
A rush of heat pools between my legs.
“I…” I start, but the words catch in my throat.
“You what?” Will’s voice is low. Seductive.
It’s all so much, too much, but in the best possible way. The teasing, the way they’re both looking at me like I’m the only thing in the room that matters.
It’s addictive.
“I think I’d rather you touched me.”
There.
It’s out in the open.
Hanging in the ever-thickening air.
With a faint smile, Will leaves the whiskey on the table and walks toward us. My pulse speeds up when he settles on my other side, resting his hand against my hip. Beckett’s fingers curl over my thigh, stroking gently.
“We can stop anytime,” Will tells me. “Just say the word.”
I don’t want to stop. Not now, not when every nerve in my body is humming with anticipation. I turn my head and press my lips to Will’s, summoning a startled grunt followed by a groan of approval. The kiss is soft at first but quickly deepens as Beckett’s hand tightens on my thigh, his lips finding the curve of my neck.
Whatever nerves I had before melt away in the heat of their touch. Will’s tongue in my mouth. Beckett’s mouth exploring my neck. The movie plays on in the background, but none of us are paying attention to it anymore.
“C’mere.” Will lifts me up like I weigh nothing and tugs me onto the chaise, which lets us stretch out. He sits against the cushion and then pulls me toward him, nestling my back against his chest. “Let’s get you more comfortable.”
It’s hard to breathe again. And when I do manage to inhale, I’m inhaling his spicy scent, and it fogs my mind.
Beckett moves to sit on the edge of the chaise beside me, his hand slowly tracing circles on my thigh before traveling to the hem of my skirt, bunching it between his fingers.
“Should I pull up this skirt?” His voice is raspy. “What do you think, mate?”
“I think Charlie should ask you herself.” Will’s breath tickles my ear. “And say please.”
I squirm in anticipation. “You two are evil. Just pull up my skirt already.”
“Pull up your skirt what?” Will kisses my neck, dragging his lips up to my earlobe and sucking gently.
I whimper. “Please?”
“Good girl.”
Beckett lifts my skirt up to my waist, revealing my white bikini panties.
He groans. “ We’re evil? You did this on purpose,” he accuses.
I toy with the tiny pink bow on my waistband, hiding a smile. “Maybe.”
“You realize that only makes me more determined to test this claim that you can come without making noise?”
“I promise you, I can.”
“Prove it.” He covers my knuckles with his palm, so now we’re both cupping my pussy.
I bite back a moan. “No fair. You’re making it harder for me.”
“Who said it was going to be easy?”
Will chuckles. “Man’s got a point. You claim you can be quiet. It’s our job to test your self-control. As a scientist, you should appreciate our diligence.”
“Don’t you dare bring science into this.”
Beckett nudges my hand aside and slides his own inside my panties. His fingers drift lower…and lower… I suck in a sharp breath when they make contact with my clit. The sensation is immediate, a familiar jolt of heat, a tight clench.
“You just made noise,” he taunts.
“Nuh-uh. Breathing is allowed. Nobody at the house can hear me breathing through the wall.”
His hand stills as he mulls it over. “Fine. We’ll allow it. But anything above heavy panting counts as sound.”
His hand starts moving again. Then disappears entirely.
Once again, I have to forcibly tamp down a groan. This one from sheer distress. But I needn’t worry. He’s just bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them.
Relief flutters through me when he resumes his single-handed task of pleasuring me. The slick pads of his index and middle fingers glide over my clit, and I squirm again, enjoying the soft, torturous sensations.
Beckett smiles at my growing restlessness. “Remember, baby girl…not a sound.”
My heart races at the challenge. Will caresses my breast, squeezing with just the faintest pressure. I bite my lip, inhaling when his thumb plays with my nipple over my sweater, teasing it into a tight bud.
With each stroke of Beckett’s fingers against my clit, a moan threatens to escape, but I press my lips shut to stop it. My chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. I start trembling from the effort to keep quiet.
Will’s tongue circles my earlobe. “I can see how close you are. You want it so bad, don’t you? You want to scream.”
His breath against my skin elicits a hot shiver, and I nearly lose it right then, the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter. I clamp down on the sounds that hover in the back of my throat, barely holding on.
Will nuzzles my neck, pinching my nipples. “That’s it, baby. Let yourself feel good.”
The pressure inside me mounts. Beckett’s fingertips dip in the moisture pooled at my opening, using that wetness to tease and circle my clit.
Oh my God. He’s right. I want to scream . My mind is a haze of pleasure and restraint, every nerve ending alive and tingling. My surroundings fade, my vision blurring.
Through the fog, I hear Beckett’s voice, that faint accent mocking me. “Let us hear you, baby girl.”
I draw a ragged breath. My hips lift of their own volition, desperately seeking his fingers. Craving relief. I don’t know how I do it, stay silent. This is beyond torture. My teeth bite painfully into my lip to stifle a sound.
Sensing how close I am, the boys ratchet up the torment, doing everything in their power to break me.
“Are you going to let us fuck you tonight?” Beckett leans forward to brush his lips over mine while he rubs tight circles around my clit.
I swallow another moan.
“We want to so bad.” Will’s tongue finds my neck again, licking a line up my throat.
I know he wants it. I feel his erection pressing against my ass. I see Beckett’s straining in his pants.
“Tell us you want it,” Will whispers in my ear. “Say yes.”
It’s impossible to think, let alone speak, with the way Beckett is working my pussy, those talented fingers applying more pressure on my clit. I rock into his hand, getting his palm slick with my arousal.
Will kisses his way up the side of my neck, his lips dragging along my jaw until he’s nipping my bottom lip with his teeth.
His eyes lock on to mine. Gleaming. “Say yes.”
Beckett slips his finger inside me.
“Yes!” I cry out.
The orgasm crashes over me. My body convulses, hips moving, inner muscles tightening as I come hard enough for black dots to obscure my vision. Every inch of my body pulses with satisfaction. I ride it out, gasping, and when the pleasure finally ebbs, I collapse back against Will’s chest, breathing hard.
Both guys are peering down at me, their expressions a mix of hunger and amusement.
“You lose,” Beckett says.
“Did I really?” I croak out. “’Cause from where I’m sitting, two hot guys just brought me to orgasm. I call that a win.”
That draws a chuckle from Will. “She’s got you there, bro.”
I take another breath, slightly concerned that my heart rate doesn’t seem to be slowing. “So…um…what now?”
Will pulls me up so I’m fully seated. “Anything you want, Charlie.”
“We’ve got all night,” Beckett agrees with a half smile. “No pressure. Just…options.”
“Okay. Well,” I say, my voice wobbling a bit, “maybe we should go upstairs and talk about these…options.”
Beckett’s smile widens.
“Lead the way,” Will says.