14. Montana
14
Montana
M y limbs are like melted butter. Oozy goodness pours out of me, and a euphoric feeling entices my body in the most alluring way.
I turn my head, resting my temple on the soft, velvety lounge chair in the corner of Shane’s room, and my focus lands on Josiah. He’s slouched in the oversized chair right next to me, gazing at the ceiling with his head resting back and his arms heavy at his sides. I study his profile, enamored by his beauty. The dark hair that hangs in waves to his brows and the way his throat juts out near his Adam’s apple. His full lips are parted, his tongue toying with the corner of his mouth, while his almond-shaped eyes gaze into nothingness. I never really noticed how attractive he was.
I wonder if he’s bisexual. I’m assuming he is, being that I’ve overheard Wheeter and Shane teasing him about some broad with the big ass he was tongue wrestling at a festival. I bore witness to his exploration with Wheeter the first day I moved in. The idea of them together in more ways sends my stomach into a fury of wildfire. The erotic sounds he made…I wonder if he’d fuck me? I should mess with him just to piss Shane off. Destroy a friendship. Why not? It’s the perfect revenge against the man whose sole purpose in this world is to destroy me. God, my thoughts are all over the place, my mind running rampant.
Gazing across the room, I peer at Shane, who’s lying back on his comforter. An arm rests behind his head on the pillow, one leg hanging over the side, while the other is propped at an angle on the bed. He’s smoking a cigarette, the clouds of smoke slowly disintegrating above him.
I’ve noticed that he checks on Josiah, his eyes drifting over to him every so often, and I know the loyalty must run deep. Shane doesn’t seem like the type to let a woman come between a brotherhood, but the rumors around town about him and Josiah's sister could prove to be factual. That, and the world is truly run by feminine deception, and anything is possible when you offer a man a tight, warm channel to bust off in.
“Fuck me, I feel good,” Josiah murmurs, smiling to himself.
Shane stirs, peering from him to where I’m sitting on the chair. Our eyes connect, and the fury of the wildfire burning between us grows into an all-consuming blaze.
I close my eyes, hoping to dampen the flames.
“Montana,” he drawls, working to gain my attention.
Opening my eyes, my focus is back on him, and the heat returns, blood rising up my neck and filling my cheeks.
“Don’t pass out yet. We’re just about to have fun with you.”
My body is electrified by this pulsating energy growing with my every inhale. I am so aware of my erogenous zones. My nipples ache for intervention, and my insides throb with the desire to be penetrated. I want to be fucked. I need to be fucked. Licked. Sucked…anything.
“What did you give me?” I ask, my fingers needing to touch my mouth. My lips feel so fucking soft.
“Just enjoy the ride, Montana Rowe,” Josiah says, slumping deeper into the chair. “My body is fucking vibrating,” he says, running his hands down his face with a satisfying moan.
Shane props up on an elbow, staring over at us. I’d shoot him a glare if my face could move that way. At the moment, I’m too happy and lightweight to feel anything but amazing. This wasn’t weed. He laced it.
His eyes narrow, and his menacing grin grows as if he can hear my thoughts, knowing I’m royally fucked for the night. But I don’t fight fair, and when men in particular try to fuck with me, I play dirty. At least, while I can.
My head rests against Josiah’s shoulder, and I slip my leg over his. He widens his thighs, slouching back to accommodate me, and his timid hand finds my thigh. Absentmindedly, I rub soft circles across his chest. His warm skin beneath the soft cotton fabric feels like little bolts of electricity that shoot pleasure directly to my core. I readjust, spreading my legs further to allow him to trail those fingers higher if he so pleases.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be needing this. But my mind feels immobile in its decision-making, the drugs pumping throughout my system driving me now.
“I’m genuinely curious, Sigh,” I begin, my fingers trailing up the skin over his throat. “Who gives better head? Males or females?” I ask.
I peer at Shane, who’s cocking his head to the side, his shaved brow twitching as he studies us closely.
“Mmm, I can’t remember. Women have great mouths, but men know how it feels.”
A haughty chuckle leaves Shane’s throat.
“It’s been years since he’s actually been intimate with a woman.”
If that's true, I'm going to need to rectify that for him. Right here. In front of Shane.
Josiah's grin at the admission would have any woman begging to change that.
“You can’t deny that women aim to please,” I comment. “The idea that one can control the other while on their knees is worth the effort alone.” My fingers slide from Josiah’s neck to his shoulder, running the length of his collarbone before trailing down his inked arm. He watches my fingers with fascination.
“What kind of effort you got, gutter rat?” Shane provokes from afar.
Josiah and I are locked in on one another. His eyes drift down to my lips and he dips his head closer. Our noses run together as our mouths slant over each other’s lips, almost kissing, but not.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his breath reaching mine. “If I actually dated, I’d choose someone just like you.”
“You don’t date?” I question.
Hard to imagine. Granted, he does appear to be a bit of a computer nerd, but Josiah is an attractive man. He’s built, average height, covered in tattoos, with that shaggy dark hair and a history of trauma to match. Any woman’s dream come true. The perfect “I can fix him” man.
“He doesn’t know how to properly socialize,” Shane chimes in.
“I have intimacy issues,” Josiah adds.
I reach up and touch the side of his face, my heart racing and my limbs liquifying, pleasure surging with every stroke of his fingers along my thigh.
“I don’t know, Shane,” I say. “I think he’s doing a great job with the intimacy.”
Josiah offers a half grin at the praise, turning his body toward me. I position his hands to rest over the curve of my ass, and he inhales. Nervously, his fingers dip beneath the hem of my shorts, touching the underside of my buttocks. Every drift of his gentle caress causes my brain to explode with drips of pleasure.
Josiah dips his head, his lips just centimeters away from mine. His eyes fall closed, his lips parting as he waits for me to make a move. Kiss him.
Startled by my internal thoughts, I pull back, breathless, awakening from my drug-induced haze. My gaze sweeps from Shane back to Josiah. You still have a boyfriend.
“Ah, she talks all this shit, yet she’s scared of a simple kiss.” Shane laughs.
My heart races, and my pulse pounds through my head. Panic begins cushioning me from both sides, and my lungs feel heavy in my chest.
“Jealous, Shane?” Josiah comments while I attempt to rein in my sudden anxiety. “Doesn’t look good on you.”
His face forms a scowl before he sits, propping himself upright.
“Test me, Sigh,” he retorts. “You can fuck her right here on my floor, at my feet, and I won’t bat an eye.”
He laughs. “Liar.”
“I don’t get my panties in a twist over sluts, Sigh. Act like you know me.”
Sigh’s eyes light up, humored by his behavior. “Look at you. You’re so mad.”
Something about me gets under his skin just enough to know I’m there. I’m just curious enough for Josiah to push that limit, but something’s tunneling my vision. Hysteria.
“Oh fuck.” I place one hand on my throbbing head, the other over my chest. “I can't breathe.”
“Hey,” Josiah lifts my chin, turning me to face him. “It’s okay, just ride it out.”
My eyes go back and forth between his before he turns back to Shane. They share a look. Panic amplifies.
“Oh my God, what did you give me?!” I shriek.
Hysteria claws up my throat, constricting my breaths. My throat feels dry, and the weight of eighty bricks is now upon my lungs. I should’ve never come in here. I don’t know these men well enough to trust them. I've avoided these situations all of my life by staying sober. I can feel my eyes watering, a stampede of terror quickly approaching from the horizon. I’m about to lose it.
Shane kneels before me, a bowl in hand packed with what looks like weed.
“I'm not doing another one. No, fuck no.” My hand raises to slap it away when he grabs my wrist, his rough grasp ripping into my skin.
“Trust me,” he says, his voice rough and ragged, with nothing but heat in his eyes. The kind of seriousness that allows you to fall. “It's different. It will take the edge off.”
I look over at Josiah for backup, as if he’d actually protect me. They’re probably both in on this together.
“Montana, it helps. If you won’t trust him, trust me.”
I shake my head, backing away from them into the chair. I’m stuck. I can’t go anywhere. Suddenly, I’m trapped in my room again beneath a heavy man, his husky body pinning me to the mattress. Squeezing my head between my ears, I close my eyes tightly to thwart the memory, but the darkness only brings the vision to life.
Their voices are muffled, like trying to hear underwater. Shane is still on his knees before me, but instead of offering me the bowl, he inhales it himself. My eyes won’t blink. I can’t get them to close. The moment feels like slow motion as he snakes a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me to him again like we did earlier. I can’t stop staring at the dark shade of brown that keeps growing on me. Larger and larger, his irises grow. Tiny flecks of amber are slivered in so small, you’d never be able to pick up that detail from anywhere but right here, face to face, nose to nose, mouth to…
He seals his lips against mine, breathing the smoke into my mouth. On instinct, I inhale some of it, our lips dusting for a few seconds.
Shivers slide up my spine as a look of realization hits him.
“That’s good. Feel your lungs opening up? It helps,” Josiah commentates.
Shane swallows, peering down at my mouth. His lips part, and his jaw juts forward slightly. Mine mimics his, until he pulls away at the last second. He appears frazzled, as if he’s the one who needed the alternate drug to calm the storm of panic.
“Do another one,” Shane demands, his roughness returning.
Josiah shares another quick glance with him, but with how this is already calming me, I think one more will do the trick.