Bad Girl by Night (3 page)

She bit her lip, gave a sexy smile, and moved her glance back and forth between the two men. “Decisions, decisions.”

Then she took a sip of her spritzer, a big one.

Suddenly, she wanted to be a little more intoxicated, a little
less
in control. That wasn’t her normal way, but this suddenly wasn’t the normal situation for her, either. And it was moving fast, and she thought if she wanted to keep up, the easiest way might actually be to . . . let herself go a little.

Of course, the whole point of coming to Traverse City was to let herself go—but only while maintaining that unwavering sense of being in command of the situation. It was odd how those two factors worked together so closely. They sounded contradictory, but they weren’t. Being in control was the part that made it safe, the part that gave her power. Without that, the letting-herself-go part would be reckless to the point of being impossible.

And yet . . . there was a dark part of her—a darker part than she’d ever even imagined until this very moment—urging her to think the unthinkable. Urging her to let herself go in a whole new way. She couldn’t quite get there, though, couldn’t quite let herself even
have
the thought wafting about the edge of her consciousness. She couldn’t pull it together, make it concrete—something was blocking it out.

So she took another big drink, and her head swam—just a little. Just enough to begin letting that forbidden idea
in
. And it made her stomach pinch. But it also made her pussy weep beneath her dress.

Desire. Add an
e
and you have Desiree. Desire had created her, and it was what drove her. It was the biggest part of her. So she always listened to it—she couldn’t
not
listen. And what it was telling her right now was a little hard to believe, but suddenly she didn’t quite possess the power to shut it back out, either. Once you let something out of the box, it was out.
Just listen. Open your mind to it. Decide if it’s what you want.

Colt was less subtle than Jake in ways—he talked more about himself, trying to impress. In the next few minutes, she found out he was a security expert and highly paid private bodyguard.

“Lot of bodies to guard up here in rural Michigan?” she couldn’t help asking on a laugh.

“I don’t live around here,” he informed her. “I work in Miami.”

“I was guessing someplace different—from the accent.”

“Born and raised in east Texas,” he told her, adding with a grin, “but I get around.”

“I’ll bet you do.”

Unlike the college-boy football star, she liked Colt despite his arrogance, some of which she suspected had been brought out by alcohol. He kept talking, mentioning some of their other friends by name, and as her head began to spin trying to keep track of it all, Jake eventually interrupted him to explain that they were a group of old buddies who met here every summer “to do the fishing-hiking-drinking thing for a few days.”

“Sounds fun,” she said, and she meant it. To have that many friends. To be that carefree.

Next to her, Jake shrugged and said, “This is
more
fun.” Somewhere along the way, as Colt had regaled her with his guy tales, Jake had begun leaning closer. She took in his masculine scent again, laced with the tang of beer, and her stomach seemed to curl in on itself as his thigh pressed against hers, solid and warm.

When she turned to look at him, his face was nearer than she’d realized. Her gaze drifted from his eyes to his mouth, not more than an inch from hers. And when she spoke, her voice came out lower than usual. “Are you getting fresh with me?”

“Damn straight,” he said in a deep timbre. And then his hand eased onto her knee.

She felt the touch in her panties as well as in her breasts. She’d grown so excited that her tits felt swollen.
Tits. Pussy
. They weren’t words usually in her vocabulary. Except for when she made her little excursions to Traverse City. They were words she’d picked up from other men over the years—dirty talk while fucking. That was another one—
fucking
. As a fresh wave of intoxication swept over her, the shock of it all hit her fresh. No one who knew her would ever believe it. That she could be titillated by such words. That she could seduce strangers. But she shut the thought out as soon as it came. That wasn’t who she was tonight—the woman everyone knew. Tonight she was Desiree. Queen of desire. Lust. Sex. Queen of everything hot and nasty.

When Colt’s hand came to rest on her other knee, it was more of an abrupt, attention-getting touch than a sensual one—but she let her eyes linger on how it looked to have two men’s hands on her at the same time, just for a second, before lifting her gaze to his.

“Hey, now,” he said, “does this mean I’m losing? Just ’cause he met you first?”

She blinked. Did it?

She wanted Jake—he was more her style on such outings, and the urge to rub her body against his, to feel that glorious friction, was mounting wildly.

But . . . she was attracted to Colt, too. If Jake had never appeared, she’d have been more than happy to flirt with sexy Colt, more than happy to let him under her skirt before the night was through.

“Losing what exactly?” she asked.

It was rare to find two men she found so . . . acceptable for her needs, at the same time, same place. And it seemed almost a shame to let either of them go to waste. She had the strange sense, in fact, that if she left with Jake, she’d pine for Colt a little even as she let Jake pleasure her. And she couldn’t imagine choosing Colt, either, because Jake turned everything inside her liquid and oozy, like hot fudge melting slowly over a gooey brownie.

Which brought her back to that unfathomable thought. Which she’d finally allowed herself to acknowledge—even if only as something hazy and distant. Now, a little drunker, a little more turned on, she let herself examine it more concretely.

“Losing
you
.” Colt’s eyes fell half shut as he answered, and the touch on her knee changed—he squeezed lightly, the sensation shooting up her thigh. Suddenly, he appeared as caught in passion as Jake, and it made her look back and forth between them. And consider. The unthinkable.

Two men.

Was it such a far stretch from where she already found herself? In a bar two hours from her small hometown, dressed provocatively, here for sex. Did it make all that much difference whether it was with one guy or two?

Of course it did. She knew that. The
real
her knew it anyway. But she wasn’t the real her tonight. She was confident Desiree. She could have what she wanted. For Desiree, nothing was forbidden—it was all just pleasure. There was no guilt, none of society’s rules and mores. Her chest went hollow, her throat dry. With the decision she’d just made.

“Does anyone really have to lose?” she asked, her voice coming out huskier than she’d ever heard it.

Neither guy answered right away. And finally, Colt said, “Um . . . what do you mean, darlin’?” Both still curved their hands over her knees, where the silky fabric of her dress had risen slightly higher on her thighs. She parted them now, just a little, on instinct. And her cunt clenched in a longing so intense she’d never experienced anything quite like it.

She swallowed, the stark lust turning her throat thick as she looked to Jake. “Do you have a room here, at the hotel?”

“Yeah,” he said deeply.

“Could we go there now?”

“Um—yeah. God—of course.”

“All three of us,” she said. Not a question this time, but a statement.

It was as if her words had drained all the air from the dimly lit room. The two men stayed still as statues as they absorbed her words. She saw them glance back and forth between each other and her, clearly weighing the proposal, and her heart pounded almost painfully against her rib cage. She’d just done this, started this. And she wanted it. She wanted this experience most women would never have, this forbidden thing. And now that she’d actually suggested it, she harbored no regrets—only a pervasive hunger that echoed through her whole body.

Despite music from speakers somewhere overhead, and more of their friends’ raucous laughter from the back of the bar, the proposition hung heavy in what felt like a startling silence—until Colt finally cleared his throat to say, “Sure, darlin’—why not?”

So she looked to Jake, her eyebrows raised, her cheeks flushed and tingling with excitement.

He let out a breath, appearing almost too aroused to speak. And then he replied, “All right. Let’s go.”

“H
ere,” Jake said, stopping in front ofa door on the second floor. They’d taken the steps, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

She watched him jam a key card in the lock, then push his way inside. He flipped on a light as she followed, Colt hot on her heels, his hands playing about her hips. Then Jake turned and peered at her in the lamplight, eyes glassy with lust.

What now?

Simple. You suggested this, you take the lead. Just follow your instincts.
They never failed her. At least not here, with strangers, in hotel rooms.

She stepped forward, pressed her palms to Jake’s chest, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt. She met his blue gaze, somehow more vibrant in the room’s low lighting, and murmured, “Kiss me.”

A low growl left his throat as he closed sure hands over the curves of her waist and lowered his mouth firmly to hers. His tongue pressed between her lips instantly and she surged with wetness below.

Another hot spasm erupted between her legs when Colt’s hands snaked up under her arms to smoothly cup her breasts, making her moan against Jake’s mouth. Colt groaned, kneaded her flesh ever so boldly, and she found herself thrusting her chest outward, upward, shoving it more deeply against his touch. God, yes. Whatever brief moments of trepidation or doubt she might have experienced up to now—they all vanished. Following her instincts was going to work just fine.

“I want you both to fuck me
so
hard,” she heard herself whisper hotly. The words had come out unbidden.

“Oh baby, we will—we will,” Jake promised breathlessly. And then his kisses were dropping to her neck, and onto her chest . . . Colt still massaged her tits, and she simply leaned her head back, surrendering herself to them both. She wanted control—but sometimes, when she got to this part, the control came with choosing to give herself over to the experience, the pleasure.

Behind her, the heat of Colt’s body pressed into hers, and then—mmm, God—his hard length nestled against her ass, at the very center. She whimpered at the sensation, yet stayed keenly aware of Jake as he pushed the thin straps of her dress from her shoulders, then tugged lightly—a silent message to his friend to release her breasts so the fabric could fall.

Yet even without Colt’s firm hands, her breasts themselves stopped the clingy fabric’s natural descent until Jake pulled further, with a little more force than she’d witnessed in him up to now—
appealing
force. She lowered her arms so the dress could come off easily, and finally it dropped, skimming across her skin like one more touch before settling at her hips to reveal a shimmery concoction of red and hot pink, a demi bra that lifted her breasts high while barely covering the nipples. A glance down reminded her how big and full they looked in it—that it gave them the appearance of being barely contained, ready to tumble from the confining lace. “Jesus,” Jake muttered, taking in the sight.

“Those are fucking gorgeous, darlin’,” Colt rasped near her ear; then he kissed her shoulder as his hands came back to knead them again, eagerly.

She felt almost unsteady, weak with desire, and she wanted her men to start getting undressed, too. So she found the strength to reach up and work at the buttons on Jake’s shirt as he ran his hands down her sides, his thumbs spanning onto her slender stomach.

Once his shirt was open, he shrugged it off, and she sighed at the view of his chest and shoulders, finding him sturdy, pleasantly muscular, perfect. A tattoo she couldn’t make out resided on one arm. She ran her palms from his chest slowly to the waistband of his jeans, letting her fingertips slip inside as she eyed the prominent bulge in the denim just below—but then she withdrew them because his belt suddenly seemed too difficult a task while Colt continued his firm caress of her tits, making her feel all the wilder. She could only lean back into the hot bodyguard, languorously lifting her arms over her head to run her fingers through his messy hair while she bit her lip, eyes still on Jake’s hidden erection.

In response, Jake undid the belt, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper—then moved in close to her, hands at her hips, hard-on pressing against her clit. She sucked in her breath.
Two men’s hard bodies, mine in between.
Ultimate pleasure. She knew that couldn’t be true, that there was much more to come—but she’d never felt anything more delicious than being so tightly sandwiched between two hot guys, two stiff cocks.

Jake moved against her, creating a hot friction that set her pussy on fire, the heat radiating outward. In back, Colt rocked into her now, too, sliding his hardness up the valley of her ass, and she thought she might come, right then and there, like that—until Jake changed things.

He stepped back, just slightly, and lowered his searing gaze to her tits once more. Then he dragged two fingers slowly down the center of her chest until they lodged between the plumped flesh of her breasts—still in Colt’s firm grasp—and began to glide them up and down. His voice came low, ragged. “I want to slide my cock right here.”

A hot sigh left her at the promise. “I want that, too.”

“But right now, I want to suck these gorgeous tits.” And with that, he pushed down both thin bra straps, and Colt’s hands fell away, and her breasts spilled free. Both guys groaned, and behind her, Colt muttered, “Damn—nice.”

A fresh burst of moisture shot through her cunt as Jake reached up, framing her tits with strong hands, leaving the nipples uncovered. He lightly flicked his thumbs across the hard, pointed peaks, making her whimper slightly. And then—oh Lord—he used thumbs and forefingers to pinch, just a little. She got wetter still.