Chapter 7 #3
He does, sliding them down my legs with agonizing slowness while Jesse and Wyatt keep me distracted with their mouths and hands. By the time I’m completely naked, I’m so wound up, I might explode from the slightest touch.
“Look at you,” Jesse breathes, his eyes roaming over me with undisguised hunger. “Fucking perfect.”
“Your turn,” I manage, gesturing at their remaining clothes. “Fair’s fair.”
They strip with impressive speed, and soon I’m surrounded by three very naked, very aroused cowboys. It should be intimidating, but instead it just makes me feel powerful. They want me. All of them. And I want them right back with an intensity that surprises me.
“How do we—” Boone starts, but I cut him off by pushing him down onto the makeshift couch and straddling him.
“We figure it out as we go,” I say, positioning myself over him. “Unless you have objections?”
“Zero objections,” he gasps as I lower myself onto his hard cock. “Absolutely none. Holy shit, Callie.”
The stretch is perfect, just on the edge of too much, and I pause to adjust. That’s when Jesse moves behind me, his hands on my hips.
“Lean forward,” he murmurs, and I do, which changes the angle and makes both Boone and me groan.
“What are you—” I start to ask, then feel his fingers, slick with something, working me open in a different way. “Oh God.”
“Too much?” he asks, stilling his movements.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I threaten, pushing back against his hand.
Wyatt kneels beside us, his hand tangling in my hair to turn my face toward him. “Think you can multitask?”
“I’m an excellent multitasker,” I tell him, then take him in my mouth to prove it.
The sound he makes is worth the awkward angle.
What follows is the kind of frantic, messy, incredibly hot sex that only happens when four people are running on pure lust and adrenaline. Jesse works me with his fingers while I ride Boone and suck Wyatt, and the sensory overload is too much.
“Close,” I gasp, letting Wyatt go. “So close.”
“Then come,” Boone grits out, his hands tight on my thighs. “Want to feel you.”
Jesse does something with his fingers that hits exactly the right spot, and I explode with a cry that Wyatt muffles with his mouth. An orgasm rolls through me in waves, leaving me shaking and sensitive and desperate for more.
We switch positions with me on my hands and knees with Jesse behind me, Boone in my mouth, and Wyatt’s hands everywhere. The pace is punishing and desperate, like they’re all trying to crawl inside my skin.
“Harder,” I demand when I can speak, and Jesse pistons me with enough force to make me see stars.
“Gonna mark you up,” he warns, his fingers digging into my hips.
“Good,” I pant. “Want to feel this tomorrow.”
That does it for him because he comes with a string of curses, his whole body going rigid behind me.
Wyatt takes his place immediately, flipping me onto my back and hooking my legs over his shoulders. This angle is devastating, hitting spots that make me babble nonsense.
“That’s it,” he growls, watching my face as he drives into me. “Take it.”
“God yes,” I gasp, my nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks.
Boone’s stroking himself beside us, watching with dark eyes. “Incredible,” he tells me. “Just incredible.”
“Massively incredible,” I manage, reaching for him. “Come here.”
He straddles my chest, and I take him in my mouth again while Wyatt continues fucking me. The angle is awkward and my jaw aches, but the sounds Boone makes are worth it.
“Fuck, Callie, your mouth,” he groans.
“Her everything,” Wyatt corrects, his thrusts getting erratic. “She’s perfect.”
I come again without warning, the orgasm hitting like a freight train. Wyatt follows, burying himself with a groan that vibrates through both of us. Boone pulls out just in time, making a mess of my chest that should be gross but somehow feels like marking territory.
We collapse in a sweaty, sticky heap, all of us breathing like we’ve run a marathon.
“Holy shit,” I pant, staring at the barn ceiling.
“That about covers it,” Jesse agrees, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“We’re going to hell,” Wyatt laughs.
“Worth it,” Boone declares, using his shirt to clean me up.
We lie there in silence for a few minutes, letting our heart rates return to normal. The barn is quiet except for our breathing and the distant sound of cattle.
“We should probably talk about what this is,” Wyatt says eventually.
“No,” I say immediately. “No talking. No defining. No making this hard.”
“It’s already hard,” he points out.
“Then let’s not make it worse with feelings and labels and expectations.”
“So what do you want?” Jesse asks.
“This,” I say simply. “The four of us having fun, when we can manage it, without overthinking it.”
“Just sex?” Boone clarifies.
“Mind-blowing, possibly illegal in some states, definitely gonna give me walking problems tomorrow sex,” I correct.
“I can work with that,” Jesse says with a grin.
“Same,” Boone agrees.
Wyatt’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “Fine. But we need to be careful.”
“Careful is for people who don’t know how to have fun,” I say, sitting up to look for my clothes. “And I do.”
“Callie—”
“I’m kidding,” I assure him, though I’m not entirely sure I am. “We’ll be careful. Ish.”
“That’s reassuring,” he mutters.
I find my underwear hanging from a nail on the wall, which pretty much sums up the evening. As I’m getting dressed, trying not to think about how I’m going to explain the hay in my hair if Dad catches me, Jesse takes my wrist.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asks with that cocky grin.
“You three are insatiable,” I tell him.
“Says the woman who just took all three of us and asked for more,” Boone points out.
“Fair point,” I concede. “Fine. Tomorrow. But someone needs to bring water because I nearly died of dehydration just now.”
“I’ll bring a whole cooler,” Wyatt promises.
“And maybe some towels,” I add, looking at the mess we’ve made.
“And a gag,” Jesse says with a smirk.
“You wish,” I shoot back, heading for the door.
“Pretty girl,” he calls after me, “I don’t have to wish. You’ll beg for it eventually.”
I flip him off without turning around, but we all know he’s probably right.
As I sneak back across the property, I can still feel them on my skin, in my muscles, everywhere. My body aches in the best possible way, and I know tomorrow’s going to be worse.
This is just lust, I tell myself. Just four people who want each other and are silly enough to act on it. Nothing more.
But as I climb back into bed, smelling like sex and hay and three cowboys, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m lying to myself.
Not that it matters. Whether lust or something more, I’m already addicted.