Page 8 of Better When Shared
My cock stiffened instantly, and I strategically positioned my backpack in front of me. Too late. Connor caught my gaze lingering on his wife's ass and shot me a knowing smirk. Instead of the punch to the face I deserved, he winked.
The wind picked up as we settled on the blanket, forming a triangle of bodies close enough that I could smell Lila's coconut sunscreen. I busied myself digging through my bag for sunglasses, desperate for something to hide my obvious staring.
"So what exactly did you mean by 'dorm rules' this morning?" Lila asked, leaning back on her elbows. The position thrust her chest forward, straining against the delicate crochet pattern. It was chillier today, the wind of the Pacific cooling the air, and hernipples were pebbled against her top, poking through the loose weave in a way that was truly indecent.
Connor barked out a laugh, stretching his arm behind Lila's shoulders. His fingertips brushed the top of her spine where the halter tie formed a neat bow. "Oh man, Nick, should I tell her about our arrangement?"
Heat crawled up my neck. Those memories had fueled countless late-night jerk-off sessions over the years. It had all ended when Connor had met Lila, when he'd explained to me that he was serious about her and couldn't stand the thought of breaking her heart.
"We had an understanding," I explained, my voice lower than intended. "Our dorm room was tiny, privacy nonexistent. Sometimes one of us would bring a girl back, and well..."
"We'd give each other the room when possible," Connor continued, "but sometimes that wasn't an option. So we developed 'dorm rules'—basically, if one of us was getting laid and the other needed to be in the room, we'd pretend to be asleep or wear headphones. But the other person was allowed to stay, and watch if he wasn’t too obvious about it and the girl didn’t object."
Lila's eyes widened. "So you'd just be there while the other was having sex?"
"It was that or celibacy," I said with a shrug that belied the rapid-fire images flooding my brain—Connor pounding some sorority girl while I pretended to sleep, my own hand working beneath the sheets.
"We figured out that as long as the girl wasn't freaked out, it was actually kind of hot," Connor added, his fingers now playing with the knot at Lila's neck. The touch seemed casual, but I knew better. "Whoever didn’t have a date for the night still got a nice little show. And most of the girls found it hot, too. Eventually, they started to expect it, and we could both be—"
"Active at the same time," I finished, meeting Lila's gaze directly. Her pupils dilated, a flush spreading across her chest.
"With different partners," Connor clarified.
The memory hit me like a physical blow—sophomore year, Connor and I each with our current girlfriends. We’d started on his bed, just hanging out and chatting, but as things had gotten heated, we’d finished things right there, side by side, bodies brushing together as we fucked the girls in unison. The girls had been as into it as we had.
Lila licked her lips, a quick dart of pink that made my cock throb painfully in my shorts. "So you've watched each other before."
It wasn't a question, but Connor answered anyway. "More times than I can count." His fingers found the bow at Lila's neck, tugging gently. "It was our thing back then."
"I always found it hot as hell," I admitted, unable to stop myself. "Hearing everything, catching glimpses..." I swallowed hard, afraid I'd said too much.
But Lila wasn't offended. Her eyes gleamed as she processed this new information. "And did you ever... cross boundaries? Get involved with each other's... activities?"
Connor's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. "There were a few close calls. Nothing explicitly crossing lines, but the energy in the room sometimes..." He shrugged, leaving the sentence dangling between us like bait.
I glanced at him, startled. I'd never known that he'd felt the same way I had, and I wondered if he had fantasized about me the way I'd fantasized about him.
The wind gusted suddenly, lifting Lila's skirt high enough to reveal a glimpse of pink between her thighs. She squealed and pressed it down, but not before I memorized the image—smooth, tanned skin and that tiny triangle of fabric, damp at the center.
"Fuck, it's windy," she complained, but the excitement in her voice betrayed her. She liked being seen. Liked knowing I was looking.
"Perfect beach day," Connor countered, scanning the empty shoreline. His hand trailed lazily down Lila's back, following the curve of her spine to where her skirt met skin. "Secluded too."
I forced myself to look away, digging out my phone. "I should start checking hotels. Give you guys some actual privacy for the rest of the trip."
But my fingers hovered over the screen, unwilling to make the search. Last night had awakened something primal in me—not just desire for Lila, but a deeper craving to reconnect with Connor in ways I'd never fully acknowledged. The tension between us coiled tight as a spring, ready to snap.
"You don't have to," Lila said, frowning.
"After this morning," I continued, "it's probably better if I—"
"Lila enjoyed you watching," Connor interrupted, his voice matter-of-fact. "Didn't you, babe?"
She hesitated, then nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "I didn’t realize how hot it would be, watching you watch me." She blushed, ducking her chin. "You're really sexy, Nick."
The confession hung in the air between us, heavy with possibility. I stared at my phone, heart hammering against my ribs.
But this was his wife, not some random hookup from a frat party. Unsettled, I focused on my phone screen with laser intensity, scrolling through hotel listings that blurred before my eyes. One room, one night, that's all I needed to break this spell. To stop imagining how Lila's skin would feel under my palms, how Connor's approving gaze would burn into me as I touched her.
