Page 9 of Washed Up
Except, is it Reid I want, or is it sultry, sexy Wynter? Then again, Max has turned out to be a surprising sweetheart. That cuddle was something else, and he’s definitely been the one trying to make this the least weird for me. Also, he cooks. OMG, a man that cooks and doesn’t just order takeaway when you’re hungry. He’s a keeper for definite.
Of course, I could be greedy. It is fantasy, after all. Just a girl, sitting on a bed with her own thoughts, wearing a guy’s underwear, while touching herself. Why the heck can’t I imagine having all three of them? One after another… or even all together.
I envisage a knock on the door, then three faces peering around the frame. Them smiling at me prone on the bed, hand inside my pants. Them entering, Reid losing his shirt as he strides towards me. He’s inked beneath it. Wynter all cool but targeting my neck. Max a little bit awkward, leading with a hug, that he follows with a kiss, while Reid devotes his attention to my clit, and Wynter whispers all the things they’re going to do to give me pleasure into my ear in that sexy, sexy accent of his.
I rub a little faster, still imagining Reid’s going down on me.
A debate begins among them over who’s going to fuck me.
“Guys,” I reassure them. “It’s okay, you can all have a turn.” That thought makes me groan aloud. Wynter, Max, Reid… I picture each of them naked and erect. Each equally eager to give me what I crave.
“Reid,” I say. “Reid, first.”
“Damn right.” Reid crawls up from between my legs to cover me. I get a glimpse of his handsome face before his lips meet mine and I groan all the need, all my desperation into his mouth. He’s a sloppy kisser, all tongue and enthusiasm, but his body sits exactly right between my legs, and I want nothing but to rake my nails across his broad back and arch into him.
There’s a knock on the door for real, and the hinges creak as it opens.
Startled, I jerk my hand away from my pussy, which leaves me reclining on my elbows facing the door in such a come and get me pose that it’s no wonder Reid’s eyebrows skyrocket when he sees me.
“Ariel,” he says in a throaty drawl. I’m wearing his band mate’s T-shirt and his now somewhat damp shorts. He looks at me expectantly, as if he’s waiting for me to ask him something. “I heard you call.”
“No. I—”
“You didn’t call me? I distinctly heard you say Reid.”
I shake my head. Did I say that aloud? Heat fills my cheeks. What were the odds he’d be right outside my door and overhear me?
“Okay. If I’m not needed, then I’ll leave you to…”
He grins.
Fuck, he knows. He knows what I was doing.
Then he shoots a finger at the jeans lying beside me. Right, he just meant he’d leave me to finish getting dressed.
He turns, but he does it slowly, which gives me a view of his very fine arse, and tells me he’s lingering with intent, like he’s waiting for an invitation.
“Stay,” I squeak. “If you want… I mean, I could use some company.”
He turns back immediately. “Almost forgot.” He fishes a tube from his back pocket. “Max told me to give you this.”
I take the offered cream and slather it over the worst of my bruises. Well, the ones that don’t involve me exposing myself to Reid. He watches, fascinated.
“If you’re staying, sit down. It’s weird with you standing there gawping like that.”
He shifts the jeans and sits beside me. “This must be really tough for you. I bet last night’s playing havoc on your mind.”
“Yeah, ish, trying not to dwell on it, to be honest.” What I ought to be focused on is what I do next, not playing make-believe that I can command the attention of three guys at once.
“So, what are you thinking? Plans?”
I bow my head and give it a shake. “Not sure. I’m not… I can’t go back there.” I wonder what Harrison has said to Cathy about my absence. Doubt he’s told her I jumped into the sea to avoid whatever he had planned for me. Does he have regrets? Feel guilty? A flash of recollection pierces the void in my memory. Harrison leaning over the railings on the pier yelling obscenities. The water tugging at my clothes, dragging me away from the shore. Where I hit the water, it turned out to be much deeper and colder than I’d expected. I thought I’d be able to hide beneath the pier and wait until he left, then creep back up the shore.
“What can we—what can I do… to help?”
I shake my head. “You guys are busy, and I don’t want… You need to focus on your music, not my shit. I’ve been waiting for your next single… album. I don’t want to be responsible for holding it up.”
“You won’t be. Ignore what Wynter said. He’s just tense. I’d rather you were here and safe than you left and…” He shakes his head, but there are protective vibes rolling off this man. I wouldn’t mind hiding beneath his wing. “In any case, there ain’t no music happening around here, just a truckload of moping. If magic was going to happen, it’d have done so already. You’re the high point of what’s been a miserable experience.”
