Chapter 3
THREE
JACKSON
This club is packed—beautiful women, attractive men, and the object of my every desire.
From the balcony, I watch the sea of bodies grind against each other, the bass of “I Mean It” vibrating through the subs.
Closing my eyes, I get lost in the beat.
A hand splays across my lower back, and I’m about to tell whoever it is to back off—then his lips press to my ear.
“You feeling okay? I grabbed you a water.”
Always worried about me.
Even though I reassured him about a million times on the way here that I was fine, my blood sugar is in range, and I wouldn’t drink.
He’s still been hovering like a… worried boyfriend.
No, because we aren’t boyfriends.
Like my best friend.
“I’m fine, for the millionth time, Dre. So what are we looking for tonight? Blonde? Maybe a redhead… like the one from the club that we missed out on?”
What I really want to say is: I want a six-foot-two, tattooed, anxious second baseman with a big dick.
But I can’t say that.
Not after I begged him to come out with me tonight. I was completely satisfied with how we left things this morning. I would’ve been content with him fucking me to sleep tonight.
Yet here we are, dressed up and on the prowl for… something because I opened my stupid mouth. I’m scanning the dance floor when my eyes zero in on her. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.
I tap Dre’s thigh and point. “She look familiar to you? I swear I’ve seen her somewhere before.” Andres chuckles and leans in to speak into my ear, my eyes never leaving her.
“I would hope she’d look familiar. That’s Layla, Brooks's sister.”
Layla Knight, our pitcher's sister.
His twin sister.
Layla looks up, catches me watching her and smiles. And it’s not the “hey, I recognize you” type of smile. It’s the “I wouldn’t mind you bending me over and fucking my brains out” kind.
I nudge Dre and motion down at her. “Smile.”
He looks over at me, rolls his eyes, and then looks at her and smiles. “This is a bad idea, Jackson. Brooks would murder us.”
“We lay down the rules like we always do; if she isn’t down and she only wants one of us, we can find another girl and just make it a group thing.” Or we could just pass altogether.
“If that’s what you want to do.”
I want you.
Shove the feelings down, and let's do this, Jackson.
Grabbing his hand, I drag him downstairs and sandwich Layla between us. With me at her front and Andres at her back, she wraps her arms around my neck. “You boys must have a death wish, or you’re not scared of my brother at all.”
“We can handle your brother, no problem, sweetheart.” I smirk. “You looking to have some fun tonight?”
Dre’s eyes land on mine for a brief moment before focusing on her bare shoulders and then down at her ass.
“I’m always up for some fun.” Her hand caresses my face, and that gets a reaction from Andres. He grabs her wrist, pulling that hand off my face and bringing it back to wrap around the back of his neck.
I raise my eyebrow at him, and his eyes bore into mine as if to say, “Don’t even.”
Possessive much?
“Here’s the thing though,” Andres says while swaying with her. “We like to share. So you’d need to be okay with this.” He grabs my shirt and pulls me flush against her chest. The pressure of both of us pushing against her has Layla moaning. “The two of us inside you.”
“Fucking count me in.”
That took way less effort than I expected.
“You ever been with two men before, dirty girl?” I tease, running my hand up her thigh.
“Two men, two women. A man and a woman.” She laughs. “I’m not a prude like my brother.”
Oh, sweetheart, Brooks is anything but a prude.
We aren’t going to out him to her, though.
“You want to get out of here then, sweetheart?”
Layla nods. “My place is the next street over.”
I’m down, but I glance at Andres to make sure he’s on board with this.
He nods.
“Okay, lead the way, sweetheart.” I catch the slight twitch in Andres’s eye when I call her sweetheart, and a tiny part of me loves that it gets to him.
“Follow me.” Layla walks ahead of us, and we follow behind her.
We walk the block to her apartment. I swear I blink, and we’re already inside, watching her take her sandals off.
Layla’s hot, don’t get me wrong, but my thoughts are completely consumed by the man next to me.
Andres’s hand brushes against mine—like he can feel what I’m feeling. Like he wants to ground me.
“So boundaries…” She looks between the two of us, sizing us up. “I don’t like being degraded, and I’m not into breath play or things like knife play. But I’m pretty fair game for everything else. Oh, and whoever is inside me wears a condom. I’m on birth control, but that's a hard limit for me.”
Dre and I each pull out a condom from our pockets, and she smiles. “Look at you Boy Scouts. Always prepared.”
No, more like we both know we don’t want kids right now. And birth control isn’t one hundred percent effective.
“We’re good with that,” I say. Dre nods, and then I continue. “I’m a type 1, so my pump might need to stay on—just don’t touch the site or my glucose sensor on the back of my arm.”
“And,” Dre interjects, “I only kiss him. Nothing personal.”
Layla smirks. “All good with me.”
Andres and I undress, then follow her across the small studio apartment to the bed. Layla eyes both of us, taking in our bodies and smiling. I know Andres looks good. And while I’m not completely happy with my body, I know most women find me attractive.
They just don’t see the flaws I see.
The scars from years of pump sites and hospital IVs. My fingertips, dotted with pinpricks. The weight I can’t put on from years of uncontrolled blood sugars.
I close my eyes, and my mind replays Dre’s words from earlier. “You are sexy, Jackson. Every part of you.”
Layla’s voice pulls me out of the memory. “Can I suck your cock while your friend watches, baby?” I open my eyes, and she’s naked and kneeling before me. Andres stares at her, and I know the scowl on his face is because she called me baby.
He looks up at me and mouths “Do it” as if to egg me on.
I smirk. “Yeah, open that pretty mouth for me then, sweetheart.”
Layla gives my cock a few tentative strokes, and while my eyes should be completely on her, every few seconds I’m pulled away. Looking over at Andres, who strokes himself. He’s not watching her suck me either; his eyes are on my face. He’s getting off on the reaction of me getting off.
Not on the act itself.
“Come here.” I motion for him to join us, and without missing a beat, he comes to stand at my side. I grip Layla’s ponytail and pull her off. “I want you to suck him too. Make him feel good, sweetheart.”
Her tongue swirls his tip before taking as much of him down her throat as she can. Andres is big, and she can’t take all of him.
“Oh, fuck, just like that.” Andres groans as she bobs up and down. I still have her hair wrapped around my fist, and I guide her down onto his cock, controlling the pace.
“You like that? Her mouth feels amazing, doesn’t it?”
“Tu boca se siente mejor.” Dre lets out a sigh before grabbing me by the throat and kissing me. Not just a quick peck on the lips either.
No.
This is him consuming me, putting me in my place. His tongue caressing mine and fighting for dominance. Andres wants the upper hand in the dynamic, which is out of character. Usually when it’s us with a woman, he lets me lead. I get to be the main dom.
Not this time.
Layla pulls back and watches us kiss. “Fuck, you two are so hot. I love men who aren’t afraid to explore each other.
” Then she’s back on my cock, gagging on me with an increased enthusiasm.
She strokes Andres with her hand and switches back and forth between sucking us.
Pulling back, she looks up at us. “I need you both inside me.”
I reach down and help her up, and she heads to the bed, crawling over the comforter, showing us everything.
“Ass or pussy?” I whisper, not looking over at him.
“Pussy.”
I should know by now, Dre has told me time and time again that the only ass he will ever fuck is mine.
Looking at my pump, I debate unhooking, but I see I have an active bolus and mutter “fuck” under my breath.
“It’s fine,” he whispers, his mouth finding mine again. “Sexy, remember.”
I remember.
From the pillows, Layla watches us roll the condoms on, then climb onto the bed. Andres situates himself underneath her, taking the lube she hands him and applying it to her and himself.
“Once Andre’s is inside me…” And I take that as my go-ahead to grab the lube and slick up my fingers, sliding one inside her. Her ass is tight as fuck and I know it's going to be a tight fit for Dre and me. “Oh, fuck, Dre. You’re so big. Okay, Jack, go ahead; I’m ready.”
Andres's eyes narrow at me from beneath her as he stops to allow me to push inside her. Layla lets out a few breaths as I push the head of my cock inside, feeling her body stretch to accommodate the both of us. She moans, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through her body and into mine.
I can feel Andres through the thin wall that separates us. His cock slides in and out of her pussy as I move deeper into her ass. We start to move in sync, a slow, steady rhythm that has Layla moaning and writhing between us.
“Fuck, you two feel so good,” she gasps, her nails digging into the back of my neck. I can feel Andres's eyes on mine as we move together and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Is it jealousy? Layla claws at my neck again, this time making me wince.
“Watch your nails on his neck.” Andres growls, and that makes her flatten her palm.
Looking past Layla, who’s lost in her own pleasure, down at Andres, his eyes are closed, his teeth clenched in concentration.
I lean over her shoulder and kiss him, a soft, gentle kiss that contrasts with the raw, primal movement of our bodies.
He opens his eyes, surprise flashing across his face before he kisses me back, his tongue exploring my mouth.
He is what is making this enjoyable for me.
Layla moans loudly between us, the two of us working in tandem to make her come. Thrust after thrust, she takes both of us like a fucking pro. Andres moans, and something flips in my brain, making me uneasy. Her body clenches around us as she comes, her orgasm triggering something deep within me.
But it’s not the need to come. If anything, it's the opposite.
My stomach churns, and I realize I have to get out of here.
I can’t do this.
I don’t want to be in a situation where he’s moaning and it’s because someone else is getting him off.
“I don’t feel so good.” I quickly pull out of Layla’s ass, grab my pump, and climb off the bed.
“Jackson,” It’s not Layla’s voice that calls out to me, but Dre’s.
Don’t stop. Get yourself the fuck outta here, Jackson.
“Is he okay?” Layla asks, and I drown out the response as I rip the condom off and toss it in the trash, putting my clothes on quickly and flying out the door. I take the stairs two at a time, my head a fucking mess of emotions.
This was your stupid idea. You wanted to explore being bisexual with him. Feelings were never supposed to happen.
God, I’m such a fucking idiot.
Once I’m outside and walking back to the car, everything hits me all at once. All the emotions that I try to shove down in these situations. The ones that have been getting stronger each time we do this.
What the fuck are we even doing? Fucking people together. It’s not like we don’t just come home and fuck each other afterwards. Obviously something is left unfulfilled if we feel the need to do that, right?
“Jack,” Dre calls after me, chasing me down the block to the parking lot where the car is. “Jackson, stop! If you’re feeling sick, you need to stop so I can figure out what’s wrong.”
He didn’t stay to finish fucking her.
Andres came after me.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Dre.” I let out a breath and lean up against the passenger door of the car, running my fingers through my hair.
“Doing what?” He stops next to me and starts to button up his shirt.
Fuck, don’t ruin this, Jackson. “Nothing. You know what? Never mind. I’m just being stupid.”
“Mi sol.”
Don’t fucking do this to me.
“Don’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“You can’t keep doing what?” Andres grabs my chin, and the look in his eyes breaks the wall that holds it all back.
“Sharing you.” I choke out the words, the tears slowly trickling down my cheeks. “With women. I’m—I’m getting jealous anytime you moan because of something they do. It’s driving me insane.” I can’t stop the words from flowing now. “They’re mine, Dre. Your moans should belong to me.”
Now who’s being possessive?
Andres doesn’t respond. He just stares at me with his gorgeous brown eyes, something growing behind them.
Fuck, what have I done?
“Get in the car, Jackson.” He hits the unlock button on the fob and pulls the passenger door open, motioning for me to get in.
It’s probably best not to sass him right now. I can’t tell if he’s pissed at me or just annoyed. Otherwise I’d totally hit him with, “Did you just ‘get in the car, Elizabeth,’ me?”
Because he totally did.
Now I’m scared and a little turned on.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re in his apartment.
There's been complete silence between us the whole time. I don’t know why I just followed him inside, whether it’s just routine or something subconsciously telling me that whatever I started wasn’t finished yet.
All I know is I’m nervous I’m about to lose the one person I care about most in the whole world.
“Jackson,” he breathes, leaning against the island, and I hold my breath waiting for everything to implode.
After a few seconds of silence, I speak. “Dre… I—”
“Fuck it.” He pushes away from the counter, crossing the few steps between us to grip my arm and shove me face-first into the wall. “Me vuelves loco.”
Right back at you, baby.
Dre and I sharing women—it’s just the way we fill the strange. fucking emotional unavailability we both pretend to have. Like if we put a woman between us, we don’t have to confront the fact that we really only want each other.
Even though the whole time I’m inside someone, I’m thinking about him.
And I’m tired of it.
Because all I want is him.
“Dre,” I whisper, pushing back against his chest, needing more.
“?Qué necesitas, mi sol?” He leaves a trail of wet kisses down my neck, his hands roughly tugging at my belt, popping the button, and dragging down the zipper.
I’ll never get over the feeling that spreads through my chest and stomach when he calls me his sunshine. That’s all I ever want to be.
His.
I groan as he palms my cock over my boxer briefs. “Please… kiss me.”
Begging now, are we, Jackson?
Fuck yes.
I’ll beg on my knees for him. As much as Andres and I pretend this is a friends-with-benefits situation, I know deep down that I want more.
That he wants more.