12 - Fallon
~ 12 ~
FALLON
I didn’t have very many female friends, on campus or off. I could place some of the blame for that on my ex-boyfriend, but most of my antisocial behavior was because of me, not Blaine.
Julie came into my life during freshman year. She’d been one of the few people to break me out of my shell, and one of the only girlfriends who was always there for me, even when I was locked away in the far-flung tower of a terrible relationship.
So for all those reasons, of course I had to be there for her, as well.
The Zephyr wasn’t a straight shot out of town, nor was it forty-eight minutes away. Strong winds and thunderstorms raging across northwest Texas obliterated visibility, and snarled the one-lane roads. As a result, it took me almost an hour and a half to reach Julie, who jumped from her bar stool and flung herself, weeping, into my arms.
There was no sign of the guy who’d terrified her, even when the bartender walked us back to my car. She talked non-stop for half the ride home, as the wind howled and rain pelted my windshield in sheets so thick I had to actually pull over on three separate occasions. But the second half of the ride was deathly quiet, because Julie passed right out.
I tried reaching the guys several times, but reception was spotty. I’d run out so fast, I hadn’t left a note. I hadn’t left anything, really, except half a message on Dalton’s cell that got cut off by a sky-splitting thunderclap.
By the time I got Julie home and safely tucked into bed, it was well after midnight. She thanked me profusely, begged me to stay, then passed out not even a minute later. I left her car keys on the kitchen table, locked her door behind me, and headed back to the house with my stomach in knots.
There were hardly any lights on in the windows, when I finally pulled up to the house. I was sure the night was ruined. I ran through the storm and flung myself inside, still dripping from the rain, when I heard the sound of voices floating in from the kitchen.
I walked in on Dalton and Emerson, sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a pair of tumblers filled with what looked to be scotch, or whiskey. They looked up at me curiously.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I started in genuinely, “but my friend called—”
“Julie,” Emerson broke in.
I nodded quickly. “Yes, Julie. She was in trouble, and there was nobody else, and I had to rescue her, so…”
“So you ran all the way out to the Zephyr to pick her up,” said Emerson.
I blinked. “Yes.”
He glanced to Dalton and grunted. “Damn good friend.”
“The best,” Dalton agreed.
I stood in the archway between rooms, still dripping from the rain. “So… you got my message?”
“Pieces of it, yeah,” said Dalton. “We put it together eventually, after listening to it a few times. Mostly though, we were just worried about you and the storm.”
In one of those rare cases of unbelievably good timing, a thunderclap punctuated his statement. The three of us paused for a moment, as the noise rolled angrily across the sky.
“So you guys really worried about me?” I asked.
The two of them nodded in unison. Emerson brought the glass of amber liquid to his lips, and took a long pull.
“We were worried, yes,” said Dalton. “But more than that, we missed you. We really, really missed you.”
His words were so sweet they made me melt, but what he did next stole the breath right from my lungs. Dalton stood up, seized me by the shoulders, and abruptly pressed me into the wall. He kissed me deeply, soulfully, while staring straight into my eyes. My every breath became his breath. My trembling body molded itself to his.
But by far, the hottest part of it all was Emerson, sitting there watching us. He downed the rest of his drink, then got up and approached us. All while Dalton and I kept kissing, over and over again.
Four hands found themselves on my body. They slid past my hips, and around my front. One went to my face, cradling it softly. Another glided downward, going straight to my ass.
“You boys missed me?” I murmured.
Dalton smiled at me deviously for a moment. He kissed me one last time, then he passed my hot mouth to Emerson, who took it swiftly with his own.
Holy fuck…
I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! But it was. And I was so, so totally fucking into it.
My arms slid over Emerson’s shoulders as he kissed me softly, delicately at first, then with renewed intensity and passion. His mouth tasted wonderful, and I realized it was the whiskey he was drinking. It was all smoky and sweet, and warmly delicious against my tongue.
My eyes fluttered open, to find a smile on Dalton’s face. There was permission in his eyes; as I continued making out with his friend, his teammate, his foster brother. It felt naughty, dirty, wrong. But also so undeniably good, I could barely stand it.
I kissed them back, forcing myself into their impossibly strong arms. Encouraging them to grope me, touch me, take me in any way they wanted. I felt a tug as my jacket and sweatshirt were pulled upwards and over my head. Someone unbuttoned my jeans. Someone else yanked them down. It all happened so quickly, so undramatically, as they took turns kissing my neck, my shoulders, my mouth. They took turns pinning me to the wall. They took turns passing me back and forth.
Then Dalton lifted me into his arms, and carried me through the foyer and up the stairs.
“Thank God,” I murmured gratefully.
Emerson smirked, two steps ahead of us both. “For what?”
“I… I wasn’t sure if tonight was ruined, or—”
“Oh there’s nothing that could ruin tonight,” Dalton assured me. He leaned down to kiss me again. “You’re getting everything that we promised, and then some.”
He carried me down the hallway — all the way down — into a room I’d never been in before. The door had always been closed, and therefore I assumed, locked. But now there were walls and paint and a new queen-sized bed. In fact, everything was new. The pillows, the blankets, the sheets…
“Ohhhhhh!”
I cried out in surprise as I was dropped onto the soft, springy mattress. I lay there transfixed, my practically naked body sprawled before them as the boys quickly began peeling off their clothes.
“You know, at first we were worried you chickened out,” Emerson said casually. “We found stockings and garter belts on the floor. We thought maybe you were leaving a trail for us, but when we went upstairs, to your room—”
“I would never chicken out,” I purred, twisting my body into the center of the bed. “I’ve wanted this all week. I’ve wanted it so badly! I even dressed up for you boys, and, well…”
I stopped because I was staring. Two ripped, sculpted, elite athletes stood at one end of the bed, wearing nothing but black and red boxer briefs. I crawled over, knelt before them, and began kissing them hungrily, one by one. But this time, when I reached down for them, neither man stopped me.
Yes …
My hands closed over two warm, semi-hard packages, both of which came instantly alive in my palms. My panties were flooded with wetness as they uncoiled like pythons, stretching the fabric between my fingers. Dalton was big , just as I remembered. But Emerson’s was so long it eventually pierced his waistband, poking straight up against his stomach.
With a happy sigh, I dove for it first.
FUCK yes.
He was even thicker than he’d been in the shower. I moaned as I struggled to close my lips around it, then shoved it toward the back of throat. Pumping it up and down, I could hear the groan that escaped his lips. I could feel two sets of hands, pinning my hair back over my ears on both sides of my head. Best of all, I could feel Dalton’s eyes, watching me, as I went down on his friend.
“Holy shit, Fallon…”
I whimpered in response, then risked a look upward. Emerson’s eyes were closed, but Dalton was smiling down at me. I winked at him, then pulled his dick out as well.
Then I switched, and it was the hottest fucking thing in the world.
“ Dude …”
Back and forth I went, blowing them side by side, keeping my hands and mouth busy the whole time. I would stroke one, while sucking the other. Or I would pump one thick shaft against the flat of my tongue, while running my fingers up the chest and then down along the stubbled, masculine jaw of the other.
And while I did this? The guys touched me everywhere. Their strong, football-playing hands slid down my back, past my hips, and over my swaying, thong-covered ass. And those arms were long, too. Long enough to reach the thin swath of drenched fabric that covered my swollen, throbbing sex. I sighed as I felt a finger slide authoritatively over it; pushing, probing, giving me the smallest taste of what promised to come next.
I felt like a fucking queen.
One of them said something to the other, but I couldn’t hear what. And then they were on me: four powerful hands, lifting my tiny body and flipping me onto my back. They positioned me between them, then dropped like bombs to the bed on either side of me. Kissing and touching and letting their hands roam everywhere.
Someone undid my corset, and pulled it away. The other reached down and snapped my thong, practically in half. The raw power was such a turn-on. My stomach twisted in hot, sexy knots as I saw the ruined fabric fall to the floor, and then I was completely and gloriously naked, spread-eagle, staring up at the ceiling. Thanking myself for every last choice I ever made in this long, crazy life, because they’d all somehow led me to this most spectacular of moments.
Two hungry mouths closed over my neck, and I felt goosebumps explode over every inch of my exposed skin. When those mouths kissed their way down to my breasts, I let out the longest, most gratifying of all possible sighs.
The boys fed on me, devouring me hungrily as I crushed their heads against my chest. I scratched my nails gently along their scalps, my fingers sifting through a dichotomy of two thick forests of dark and light hair.
Their hands crawled their way to the insides of my thighs, and together as one, they pushed them apart. As before, one spread me open with thick, commanding fingers. One plunged inside. I was so wet it was a little bit ridiculous. So eager and desperate to feel them, that—
The sound of heavy footfalls didn’t register in my mind until it was too late. They came down the hall and through the open door, just as all three of our heads whipped around.
Trey was standing there, his mouth gaping open, dripping wet from the rain. The bag he packed this morning dangled from one long arm. The other shot up, to cover his eyes.