Not Until You: Part I (4 page)

I closed my eyes, letting myself fall into the moment, the men’s presence and touch waking up places that had never stirred. My feet moved, my body rocked, hips swayed. But none of it was from my focused effort anymore. The throbbing beat of the song seemed to enter my bloodstream and sync with my heartbeat, lifting me up on the wave of movement around us.

“That’s right, baby,” Foster soothed, his voice like melting wax. “Let it all go.”

I allowed my head to fall back, landing against Foster’s shoulder, surrendering. One song turned into another and then another until I lost track when one would end and another began. Heat and alcohol and their touch coalesced, making all the normally awkward edges inside me blur. Time seemed to slow and stretch, until there was just this one continuous rhythm. Just the three of us dancing without regard to the world existing around us.

Foster’s hold on my waist roamed, exploring my belly, the curve of my rib cage. His knuckles grazed the underside of my breasts, and sharp need tightened my nipples, dampened my panties.
Mercy
. My eyelids fluttered open and met Pike’s riveted gaze. Gone was the affable smile. A ripple of delectable apprehension glittered along my nerve endings. Pike may be a good-time guy, but unapologetic desire had surfaced in those hazel eyes. I wasn’t used to guys looking at
me
that way. The power of it almost knocked me down.

Pike’s palm slid beneath the curtain of my hair and cupped the back of my neck, a firm grip. Foster’s breath danced against my opposite ear. “He’s going to kiss you, baby. Stop him if you don’t want that.”

Kiss? Pike wanted to kiss me. I didn’t know why this came as such a shock.

But the earth would’ve had to quit moving for me to say anything to stop him. I was spellbound. Things like this didn’t happen in my life. I didn’t allow them to. My world was safely constructed and populated with people who didn’t push my boundaries. But right now, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than these two men doing whatever they wanted to me. Old me had apparently left my body and stayed upstairs to babysit my drink.

Pike paused long enough to give me a window to say no, hovering inches from my mouth, his soft puffs of breath touching my cheeks. But I didn’t turn away. Instead, I slid my fingers along his chest, gathering the soft fabric of his T-shirt in my fists, afraid that if I didn’t hold on to something, I’d disintegrate into a heap of ash between the two of them. His lips met mine in a slow, coaxing dance, matching the beat of the music—teasing me, tasting me, licking along the seam, and then finally when I thought I’d go mad, sliding his tongue into my mouth.

I moaned into the kiss, the power of it like a thunderclap to my system. The taste of mint and alcohol mixed in with the potent flavor of unrepentant desire.

Foster groaned, as if watching another man kiss me both pained and pleased him. His hands slid down to the tops my thighs, precariously close to where I ached the most. And for the first time all night I didn’t feel like a girl among men. I felt womanly and sexy and . . . brave. No longer filtering my actions through my brain, I acted on pure instinct and arched my hips back toward Foster, seeking.

He met my silent request without hesitation, fitting my backside against him. The hard length of his arousal pressed against the curve of my ass.

I gasped into Pike’s kiss.

“I’m trying to be good with you, Cela,” Foster said, his voice a low growl. “But keep doing things like that and my moral compass may malfunction.”

My body shuddered at the threat, my pelvis tilting backward, dragging myself along Foster’s erection. I couldn’t help it. I was fascinated by the fact that he was so turned on. That
I’d
done that to him.

“Fuck.”

Pike released me from the kiss, leaving me panting for breath, and Foster spun me around, the ice blue of his eyes going black as he took in the view of me. I’m sure I looked like some crazed version of my former self—swollen lips, stained cheeks, begging eyes. He didn’t hesitate. Where Pike had left off, Foster picked up, cupping my face and coming down for a crushing kiss. My eyelids drifted shut, everything seeming to spin around me as Foster’s mouth consumed mine. Unlike Pike’s slow and sensual approach, Foster was demanding, overpowering. My legs went boneless beneath me.

But Pike had me, his hands planted on my waist, his mouth laying soft, sucking kisses to the back my neck, my shoulders.

Holy shit
. Every erogenous zone in my body flared with desperate want, and heat slicked my panties. I gripped Foster’s damp hair, holding on with everything I had, and whimpered into his kiss—a plea. For what exactly, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what to do with all this . . . wanting.

“Ah, God.” He said, breaking from the kiss, but threading his hand in my hair and insinuating his knee between my thighs, putting pressure where I needed it most. “You’re killing me.”

The contact was like tossing my brain into the deep fryer, my better judgment evaporating in a cloud of wanton desperation. The music continued pounding around us, and my hips rocked shamelessly as he ground the hard muscle of his thigh against me, sliding my panties against tender, needy flesh. I bowed back, leaning on Pike for support, no longer noticing the crowd undulating around us. The quest for release, for Foster’s touch, kidnapped all of my senses. I had lost myself and all sense of appropriate behavior.

“Please,” I whispered. “I need . . . I need more.”

“Jesus.” Foster’s thigh lowered, removing the stimulation, and my eyelids slid open to find Foster raking a hand though his hair, a frantic edge to his movements. “Let’s take a break. I can’t—I need a breather or I’m going to drag you into a dark corner and give you exactly what you’re pleading for.”

My tongue swept at my bottom lip, the suggestion only making the throbbing between my thighs more pronounced. “Maybe I don’t need a break.”

Had I said that out loud?
Once again I questioned where Cela had gone. I couldn’t actually be considering taking him up on that offer. I needed a taste of reckless abandon tonight, but I wasn’t qualified for the dark-corners-in-clubs kind. Did people actually do that?

“Doc,” Pike said wrapping an arm around my waist, already turning me to guide me off the dance floor. “We promised you we’d just dance. You’ve been drinking. We’re all a little . . . overheated. I think a break is a good idea.”

I clamped my lips together, stopping myself from the urge to protest. My body was ruling my head right now. This is what my parents used to warn me against, right? You let a guy go too far and you make mistakes—like my sister did. I needed to get some air, some perspective. The guys were trying to do the right thing. I should let them.

I allowed Pike to lead me away from the dance floor back upstairs. Foster trailed behind, a tight expression on his face. When we made it back to our corner, Pike joined me on a cushioned, curved bench, draping his arm across my shoulders, and Foster took the seat catty-corner to us. He adjusted his pants before sitting, and I felt the blush rise to my cheeks. Guess I wasn’t the only one left half-cocked.

Pike, who was clearly handling what had transpired on the dance floor better than Foster or I, ordered another round of drinks—beers and empty shot glasses. I sent him a curious look. “Interesting choice.”

He smirked. “No more hard liquor for any of us tonight. But I thought we could take a breather, cool down, and finish Never Have I Ever the proper way.”

“I think we should take Cela home,” Foster said, his tone as stiff as his posture.

I frowned over at him. Is that really what he wanted?

“Screw that. The night is young,” Pike said, that mischievous edge back in his voice. “And your blue balls will ease up soon enough.”

Foster smirked and sent Pike a one-finger salute.

My gaze dipped down to the fly of Foster’s pants, the urge to ease that discomfort for him palpable. What would he be like when he dropped all that calm, refined control? Just the glimpse I’d seen on the dance floor had made my blood race. Part of me wished I had seduction skills already in my arsenal, like those women in the dirty books I used to borrow from my dorm mate in undergrad. I imagined crawling over to Foster, situating myself between his open thighs, and taking him in my mouth, tasting him until he made that sexy groaning sound again.

My teeth dragged along my bottom lip as I raised my lashes.

Foster’s eyes locked with mine, the fierceness of his stare stealing my breath. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Cela.”

Never have I ever
 . . .

Given a guy head.

Almost climaxed in public.

 . . . Wanted someone so much.

“I’m thinking I need a drink.”

Chapter 5

Foster counted to a hundred backwards in his head, trying to calm down his racing heart and his determined libido. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to drag Cela somewhere private so he could ruck up her dress, wrap her legs around his waist, and fuck her hard against a wall.

He’d known dancing with her would be a lesson in restraint, but he had no idea how goddamned responsive she’d be. She’d been on the verge of coming from the simple pressure of his leg rubbing against her—her pupils dilated, her body tightening, her sexy scent drifting to his nose and scrambling his brain. If he’d been at The Ranch, he would’ve torn her panties off her right there in the middle of the dance floor, tucked his fingers inside her, and made her scream while Pike held her up.

Fuck
. His cock pushed against his zipper, and he adjusted his position again. He needed to stop letting his mind travel down those roads or he was never going to be able to sit here comfortably.

Pike poured one of the beers the waitress had brought over into three shot glasses and smiled over at Cela. “Alright, doc. The way this works is one person says ‘never have I ever,’ then lists something they’ve never done. If the other two have done it, they have to drink. If they haven’t done it, they don’t. Got it?”

She peeked over at Foster then back to Pike. “I have a feeling y’all are going to end up drinking a lot more than I am.”

Pike laid a hand on her knee and squeezed, sending a tweak of jealousy through Foster. “No worries, doc. It’s all in good fun. Why don’t you go first?”

“Okay.” She fidgeted with the cocktail napkin in her lap, folding it into thirds, thinking. “Hmm, well, never have I ever . . . watched
Star Wars
porn.”

Her sly smile pulled a laugh from Foster despite his plummeting mood. “Low blow, doctor.”

Pike glanced at him, shrugged, and both of them tipped back their shot glasses and swallowed.

“Oh my God,” she said, laughing. “So you guys were only half-kidding when you mentioned it.”

“It was college,” Pike said in mock protest.

“I couldn’t look away,” Foster said at the same time.

“Pervs,” she declared, but her eyes were crinkled around the corners. “Okay, your turn.”

Foster refilled the shot glasses and sighed. He needed to come up with something neutral. Safe. “Alright, never have I ever . . . owned a pet.”

Cela’s jaw dropped as if he’d just admitted he liked to dress up in women’s clothes and sing Broadway tunes. “Like ever?”

“Nope.”

“Not even like a fish or something?” She drank her shot.

He watched her throat work as she swallowed, imagining things he shouldn’t. “My parents traveled a lot. They didn’t trust me to take care of a pet.”

She frowned. “Kids usually do a better job than most adults.”

“Yeah, well, my track record on taking care of things wasn’t so great,” he said, failing to keep the tinge of bitterness out of his voice—the old, always-present guilt surfacing.

“I’m sorry.” The stark sympathy that swept her features had something knotting in his chest. God, why had he admitted something so personal? He could’ve just said no and left it at that.

Pike drank his shot, and Foster sent him a curious look. When he’d met Pike, the kid had barely owned enough clothes to get him through a week. He and what passed for his family wouldn’t have been in a place to fund a pet.

Pike shrugged. “A stray cat used to live under our house when I was a kid. I named him Jagger and fed him, so I think that counts. I wanted him to be mine.”

Cela looked between the two of them. “I’m dragging both of y’all to the vet school shelter. Clearly, you need a pet.”

Pike laughed. “Doc, we can barely be trusted to care for ourselves. Let’s not inflict a poor animal with owners like us.”

Owners. Foster could think of one thing he’d like to own right now—at least for a little while. He dragged his focus away from Cela and nodded at Pike. “Your turn, drummer boy.”

Pike narrowed his eyes, that nickname always serving to annoy him, which is why Foster loved using it so much.

“Fine. Let’s see if I can come up with something less depressing than yours.” Pike sat back on the couch, his eyebrow arching in challenge. “Never have I ever . . .”

The pause was long. Too long. Pike smiled and leveled a gaze at Foster.

Oh shit. Foster knew that look.
Don’t do it, Pike
.

“Gotten off while eavesdropping on my neighbor,” Pike finished.

You fucker
.

Cela’s expelled breath was audible even over the music. Well, shit. Now he was going to look like a creepy asshole. Foster ventured a glance her way, his gaze colliding with hers. Her panicked-rabbit expression made him wish time could be rewound and deleted.

“Dammit, Pike,” Foster said, gearing up for damage control. “Cela, look, Pike’s just messing around. He likes to—”

But before he could finish, Cela reached out, lifted her shot off the table, and downed it. When she finished, she wouldn’t look up. She stared down at her hands and the empty glass, her knee bumping up and down—as if she were contemplating running.

The silent admission and ensuing bashfulness were like strokes to Foster’s cock, oil on a fire he was trying to tame. This girl may be inexperienced, but she was brave—bold in a way that had him getting surprised at every turn. And it’d been a helluva long time since anyone had surprised him. He leaned forward in his seat. Like a predator scenting blood in the water, the dominance rose in him, locked her in its sights.

“Cela.”

She put her hand over her face, shaking her head. “Let’s just go to the next turn. Please.”

“Look at me, Cela,” he commanded, his tone harsh.

Her attention snapped his way, as if she couldn’t stop herself from obeying.

He held her eye contact and slowly drained his own shot.

Poured another, drank again.

Then another, drank again. “I could keep going.”

In Foster’s peripheral vision, Pike gave a slow, satisfied grin. “Honesty. I like it.”

Cela’s throat worked as she swallowed hard, her lips parted, closed, opened again as if she had words to say but couldn’t pick which ones.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” Foster said, keeping his voice even. “You don’t need to be afraid to say what you’re thinking.”

She licked her lips, the pulse at her throat visibly jumping. “First, I need to know what this is—tonight.”

Pike angled toward her on the couch. “We told you, doc. It’s your night to have a good time, whatever that may be.”

She looked to Pike, then back to Foster and lifted her hand to the neckline of her dress. Her fingers dipped underneath the material and moved along her sweat-dampened skin, riveting Foster’s gaze. She pulled a small square of paper out.

“What’s that?” Pike asked.

“In less than a month, I’ll be back in the small town I grew up in. Everything there is planned out for me in a nice, neat path. The job I’ve always known I’d have, the guy I’m supposed to date, the place I’m going to live.”

She hesitated and stared down at the paper, her thumb rubbing across the smooth white surface over and over again. Pike put a palm to her back, a gentle grounding touch that seemed to replenish Cela’s resolve. She gave them both a wavering half smile before continuing.

“I’ve lived my whole life working toward exactly that goal. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long. But I realized tonight that I’ve missed out on a lot of experiences that weren’t bullet points in the plan. I don’t want to go back home with a Never Have I Ever list a mile long.” She set the square of paper on the table, let her fingers linger on top of it for a moment, and then pushed it toward the center. “And I was hoping you two might help me scratch some things off the list.”

Foster’s attention zeroed in on the note, his heartbeat climbing up a notch.

“Whoa,” Pike said, her declaration apparently stunning the nothing-shocks-me musician.

Before Pike could take the liberty, Foster reached out and laid his palm over the small square, the paper slightly damp from being against Cela’s bare skin. He resisted the urge to bring it to his nose and inhale.

“That is,” she rushed on, her eyes darting toward Foster’s grip on her note. “If y’all are, you know, really interested in me or whatever but if not . . .”

“Shh . . .” Pike said, pressing his fingers against her lips. “Doc, if what’s on that sheet has anything to do with getting to touch you again, I have no doubt we’ll be all for it.”

Foster lifted the paper, unfolded it carefully, and stared down at the neat, bulleted list Cela had written on half a notebook page.

Never Have I Ever . . .

Broken the rules.

Had a one-night stand.

Lived out a fantasy.

Slept with the hot neighbors I’ve been crushing on for a year.

Lost control.

But I want to . . .

The paper crinkled beneath Foster’s fingertips as all sights and sounds around him seemed to fade, the words on the page nearly glowing at him.
But I want to . . .
He looked up at Cela, the vulnerable expression on her face reminding him of her youth, her innocence. But his stampeding libido trampled over those concerns, his cock hardening past the point of maybe. Yes, she was sweet. Inexperienced.

But the woman who wrote this list knew what she wanted, what she craved.

And he’d be damned if he was going to let someone else give it to her.

If Cela wanted to lose control with someone, he knew the guys for the task.

He stood, tucking the note in his pocket, and holding out a hand. “I think we’re done dancing.”

* * *

My heart was pounding hard enough to make my chest hurt, and a fine sheen of sweat had gathered on my neck, but I managed to get to my feet and take Foster’s offered hand. This is what I had wanted when I’d knocked on their door tonight. Wanton abandon. A departure from all that my predictable life normally was.

But now that I was standing with my toes peeking over the edge of the precipice, preparing to leap, the ingrained voice of my father was firing in my head like a machine gun.
What are you doing? You don’t know these men. You’re not this kind of girl. What would people say?

And the ever popular,
Don’t shame the family.

My father had used that one ad nauseam throughout my childhood. My older sister, Luz, had fallen into the wrong crowd in high school, had a boyfriend who’d stolen from people in town, and had gotten pregnant at sixteen. The taint of that had hung over us for years, even after my father had sent Luz away, disowning her after she terminated the pregnancy. So with my oldest brother away in the military and Luz gone, it had been left to me and Andre to prove that “those Medina kids” weren’t all bad.

Be a good girl or you won’t be part of this family anymore.
My father had never stated it that way, but the sentiment had hung in the household like a stench you couldn’t air out. And now here I was putting myself into the hands of two men, giving them a laundry list of sins I’d like to commit.

Foster’s fingers laced with mine, and he pulled me closer to him, dragging me from my swirling thoughts. He brushed my hair away from my face and graced me with a smile that sent warmth bleeding through me. “You’re panicking already, angel. Don’t. There’s no need.”

The endearment and soft tone were like soothing strokes to my climbing anxiety. He probably called girls angel all the time. I wasn’t under the delusion that I was any different than the women I’d heard in their apartment over the last two years. But something about the way he said it, the reverence in it, made me want to curl into him, to block out the harsh voice in my head.

“Is it okay that I’m a little scared?” I asked, offering my own attempt at a smile.

He cradled my face, his blue eyes seeming to read me as if every emotion were printed in permanent marker on my forehead. “It’s all right to be scared of the unknown, to be nervous about exploring things you’ve only thought about in private moments. But you don’t have to be scared of us.”

Pike stepped up behind Foster. “He’s right, doc.”

“But I have no idea what I’m doing. I want this, but I know I’m in over my head,” I said, the men’s stark gazes pulling blatant honesty out of me.

Foster chuckled. “Lucky for you, there isn’t anything I like more than being in charge and giving directions.”

Pike smirked. “No truer words have ever been spoken.”

“Come on.” Foster’s grip tightened on my fingers, and Pike came around to flank my opposite side, grabbing my other hand. “Your only instruction for tonight is going to be an easy one to follow.”

One instruction? My mind flipped through possible scenarios like a day calendar in a wind gust as Foster and Pike led me down the stairs and through the crowd on the bottom floor. What would they expect from me? What if they asked me to do something I couldn’t handle or didn’t know how to do? What if they laughed at me like the frat guy had my sophomore year?

Pike retrieved my purse from the coat check stand, and by the time the three of us finally pushed through the doors and the night air hit us, my nerves were gnawing at me, chewing through my resolve. I glanced back and forth between the two guys, but neither was giving anything away.

The valet hailed a cab and Pike climbed in. I peeked over at Foster, gathering courage. “Can I ask what my one instruction is going to be?”

He grinned and pressed his lips against my ear as he guided me toward the cab. “To show us exactly how much pleasure you can take before you beg us to stop.”

“Oh,” I whispered, my insides liquefying.

He slid into the cab next to me, pressing me against Pike. Pike draped his arm around me, and Foster laid a hand along my exposed thigh.

“The Hotel St. Mark, please,” Foster said to the driver.

“Hotel?” I asked.

He traced a small, sensuous circle along my inner thigh, making me think of gentle tongues and nips of teeth moving higher. My sex clenched.

“Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”