The Score
Page 3
Forget heaven. This is nirvana.
I follow the path Kelly has taken, my lips traveling over tanned skin and sweet curves until I reach the place that makes my mouth water. Kelly’s already licking it. Holy hell. I’m not sure I can control myself long enough to get them both off. I’m too close to the edge already.
Ignoring the throbbing down below, I moisten my bottom lip, inch my mouth toward Michelle’s pussy, and…the goddamn doorbell rings.
Fucking hell. I crane my neck toward the entertainment center. The digital clock on the Blu-Ray player reads eight-thirty. I try to remember if I told any of the guys they could come over tonight, but I haven’t spoken to anyone but my roommates today, and they’re all AWOL. Garrett and Logan left for Boston an hour ago with their girls, and Tucker’s taking some chick to the movies tonight.
“Hold that thought.” I lick Michelle’s thigh in a teasing stroke, then rise from the couch and search for my boxers.
Once my cock is tucked away, I hurry down the hall to answer the door. When I see who’s standing on the stoop, I narrow my eyes.
“Bad timing, baby doll,” I tell Hannah’s best friend. “Your girl’s already gone. Come back on Sunday.” I move to close the door. Yup, I’m a rude SOB.
Unfortunately, the blonde on the doorstep wedges one black snow boot between the door and its frame. “Don’t be an ass, Dean. You know I’m spending the weekend.”
My eyebrows soar up. “Um, what?” I take a closer look at her, and that’s when I notice the overstuffed backpack hanging off her shoulder. And the pink carry-on suitcase by her feet.
Allie Hayes heaves a huge sigh. “Logan texted you all about it. Now let me in. I’m cold.”
I tilt my head. Then I not so gently kick her foot out of the way. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you kidding me—”
The door closes on her outraged exclamation.
Battling annoyance, I dart back to the living room, where Michelle and Kelly don’t even notice my reappearance—they’re too busy making out. It takes almost a minute to find my phone, and when I finally grab it off the floor, I discover that Hannah’s friend wasn’t messing with me.
There are five unread messages on the screen, which is what happens when you’re the meat in a hot girl sandwich. Threesomes trump checking your phone. That’s a no-brainer.
Logan: Hey, bro, Wellsy’s friend Allie is crashing at our place this weekend.
Logan: Keep your dick in your pants. G and I aren’t in the mood to beat u senseless if u try something. Wellsy might be in the mood for violence, tho. So: dick = pants = don’t bother our guest.
Hannah: Allie’s staying with u guys til Sunday. She’s in a vulnerable place right now. Don’t take advantage of her or else I’ll be unhappy. And u don’t want to make me unhappy, do u?
I snicker. Hannah, diplomatic as always. I quickly scan the last two messages.
Garrett: Allie’s gonna crash in my room.
Garrett: Your dick can stay in your room.
Jeez, what is everybody’s fascination with my dick?
And could their timing be any worse? My rueful gaze shifts back to the couch. Kelly’s fingers are exactly where I wish mine were right now.
I clear my throat and both girls glance over. Michelle’s expression is hazy from the extra special attention her friend is giving her.
“I really hate to do this, but you ladies need to go,” I tell them.
Two pairs of eyes widen. “Excuse me?” Kelly blurts out.
“I’ve got an unexpected houseguest waiting outside,” I grumble. “Which means this house just became a PG-zone.”
Michelle snickers. “Since when do you care if anyone sees you fucking?”
True. Usually I don’t give a damn if there’s anyone around. Most times I prefer it. But I can’t expose my debauchery to Hannah’s friend. Or to Hannah and Grace, for that matter. The boys, who cares. They know the drill. But I know Garrett and Logan wouldn’t be cool with me corrupting their girlfriends. The moment they entered committed-relationship territory, my former wingmen turned into prudes. It’s sad, really.
“This guest is a delicate flower,” I say dryly. “She’d probably faint if she saw the three of us together.”
“I would not.” Allie’s annoyed voice comes from the doorway.
I’m equally annoyed. Chick just walks into the house like she owns it? Nuh-uh.
I scowl at her. “I told you to wait outside.”
“And I told you I was cold,” she shoots back. And she seems to have no issue with the fact that there are two naked girls ten feet away.
My guests study Allie as if she’s a splotch of bacteria under their microscopes. Then they wrinkle their noses and dismiss her from their sights as if she’s, well, nothing but a splotch of bacteria under their microscopes. Chicks tend to get competitive when I’m around, but obviously these ones don’t view Allie as competition.
Not sure I blame them. She’s wearing a puffy black jacket, boots and mittens, and her blond hair is sticking out the bottom of a red knit hat. It’s the first week of November—there’s no snow on the ground, barely a chill in the air, and nothing to warrant bundling up. Unless you’re a crazy person. Which I’m starting to suspect Allie Hayes might be, because the girl brazenly waltzes into the living room and flops down in the armchair opposite the couch.
As she unzips her coat, she spares a glance at my guests, then turns back to me. “Why don’t you move this little party upstairs? I’ll stay down here and watch a movie or something.”
“Or you can go to Garrett’s room and watch a movie up there,” I say pointedly. But truthfully, it doesn’t matter. She’s already killed the mood, and I don’t feel comfortable fooling around with two chicks when it’s just me and Hannah’s best friend in the house.
Sighing, I turn to the girls. “Rain check?”
Neither of them puts up much of a fight. Apparently Miss Allie didn’t just kill the mood, she scorched the fuckin’ earth and covered it with salt to prevent horniness from ever growing back.
Allie barely pays attention to the girls getting dressed. She’s too busy removing a thousand layers of winter clothing and draping them over the side of the armchair. When she’s done, she looks substantially tinier in black leggings and an oversized striped top, and she wastes no time making herself comfortable on the big plush chair.
I follow the path Kelly has taken, my lips traveling over tanned skin and sweet curves until I reach the place that makes my mouth water. Kelly’s already licking it. Holy hell. I’m not sure I can control myself long enough to get them both off. I’m too close to the edge already.
Ignoring the throbbing down below, I moisten my bottom lip, inch my mouth toward Michelle’s pussy, and…the goddamn doorbell rings.
Fucking hell. I crane my neck toward the entertainment center. The digital clock on the Blu-Ray player reads eight-thirty. I try to remember if I told any of the guys they could come over tonight, but I haven’t spoken to anyone but my roommates today, and they’re all AWOL. Garrett and Logan left for Boston an hour ago with their girls, and Tucker’s taking some chick to the movies tonight.
“Hold that thought.” I lick Michelle’s thigh in a teasing stroke, then rise from the couch and search for my boxers.
Once my cock is tucked away, I hurry down the hall to answer the door. When I see who’s standing on the stoop, I narrow my eyes.
“Bad timing, baby doll,” I tell Hannah’s best friend. “Your girl’s already gone. Come back on Sunday.” I move to close the door. Yup, I’m a rude SOB.
Unfortunately, the blonde on the doorstep wedges one black snow boot between the door and its frame. “Don’t be an ass, Dean. You know I’m spending the weekend.”
My eyebrows soar up. “Um, what?” I take a closer look at her, and that’s when I notice the overstuffed backpack hanging off her shoulder. And the pink carry-on suitcase by her feet.
Allie Hayes heaves a huge sigh. “Logan texted you all about it. Now let me in. I’m cold.”
I tilt my head. Then I not so gently kick her foot out of the way. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you kidding me—”
The door closes on her outraged exclamation.
Battling annoyance, I dart back to the living room, where Michelle and Kelly don’t even notice my reappearance—they’re too busy making out. It takes almost a minute to find my phone, and when I finally grab it off the floor, I discover that Hannah’s friend wasn’t messing with me.
There are five unread messages on the screen, which is what happens when you’re the meat in a hot girl sandwich. Threesomes trump checking your phone. That’s a no-brainer.
Logan: Hey, bro, Wellsy’s friend Allie is crashing at our place this weekend.
Logan: Keep your dick in your pants. G and I aren’t in the mood to beat u senseless if u try something. Wellsy might be in the mood for violence, tho. So: dick = pants = don’t bother our guest.
Hannah: Allie’s staying with u guys til Sunday. She’s in a vulnerable place right now. Don’t take advantage of her or else I’ll be unhappy. And u don’t want to make me unhappy, do u?
I snicker. Hannah, diplomatic as always. I quickly scan the last two messages.
Garrett: Allie’s gonna crash in my room.
Garrett: Your dick can stay in your room.
Jeez, what is everybody’s fascination with my dick?
And could their timing be any worse? My rueful gaze shifts back to the couch. Kelly’s fingers are exactly where I wish mine were right now.
I clear my throat and both girls glance over. Michelle’s expression is hazy from the extra special attention her friend is giving her.
“I really hate to do this, but you ladies need to go,” I tell them.
Two pairs of eyes widen. “Excuse me?” Kelly blurts out.
“I’ve got an unexpected houseguest waiting outside,” I grumble. “Which means this house just became a PG-zone.”
Michelle snickers. “Since when do you care if anyone sees you fucking?”
True. Usually I don’t give a damn if there’s anyone around. Most times I prefer it. But I can’t expose my debauchery to Hannah’s friend. Or to Hannah and Grace, for that matter. The boys, who cares. They know the drill. But I know Garrett and Logan wouldn’t be cool with me corrupting their girlfriends. The moment they entered committed-relationship territory, my former wingmen turned into prudes. It’s sad, really.
“This guest is a delicate flower,” I say dryly. “She’d probably faint if she saw the three of us together.”
“I would not.” Allie’s annoyed voice comes from the doorway.
I’m equally annoyed. Chick just walks into the house like she owns it? Nuh-uh.
I scowl at her. “I told you to wait outside.”
“And I told you I was cold,” she shoots back. And she seems to have no issue with the fact that there are two naked girls ten feet away.
My guests study Allie as if she’s a splotch of bacteria under their microscopes. Then they wrinkle their noses and dismiss her from their sights as if she’s, well, nothing but a splotch of bacteria under their microscopes. Chicks tend to get competitive when I’m around, but obviously these ones don’t view Allie as competition.
Not sure I blame them. She’s wearing a puffy black jacket, boots and mittens, and her blond hair is sticking out the bottom of a red knit hat. It’s the first week of November—there’s no snow on the ground, barely a chill in the air, and nothing to warrant bundling up. Unless you’re a crazy person. Which I’m starting to suspect Allie Hayes might be, because the girl brazenly waltzes into the living room and flops down in the armchair opposite the couch.
As she unzips her coat, she spares a glance at my guests, then turns back to me. “Why don’t you move this little party upstairs? I’ll stay down here and watch a movie or something.”
“Or you can go to Garrett’s room and watch a movie up there,” I say pointedly. But truthfully, it doesn’t matter. She’s already killed the mood, and I don’t feel comfortable fooling around with two chicks when it’s just me and Hannah’s best friend in the house.
Sighing, I turn to the girls. “Rain check?”
Neither of them puts up much of a fight. Apparently Miss Allie didn’t just kill the mood, she scorched the fuckin’ earth and covered it with salt to prevent horniness from ever growing back.
Allie barely pays attention to the girls getting dressed. She’s too busy removing a thousand layers of winter clothing and draping them over the side of the armchair. When she’s done, she looks substantially tinier in black leggings and an oversized striped top, and she wastes no time making herself comfortable on the big plush chair.
