Actually, our types aren’t that vastly different. The only difference is that his is more specific while mine is distinctly nonspecific.
I don't know much about her, but on the surface, she matches his type to a T.
“He tries his best, though,” I say, and she chuckles.
"I think he more than tries. God, you two. Did you step out of a men's health shoot or what?"
Adam keeps staring at her, his eyes not so shyly tracing her body.
"Careful,” he murmurs. “You keep flirting like that, and you just might bite off more than you can chew.”
She gives him a coquettish grin even as a flush spreads from her cheeks down to her chest. “Oh, you have no idea how much I can chew.”
Desire punches me in the gut, the wave so strong that it nearly drowns me underneath. Holy fuck, that was hot, and so is the way she bites her lip. Adam growls in his throat too, as his eyes communicate with mine. She must have heard of us.
Well, hell, it’s not like we keep it a secret exactly. Half the fucking city must have already heard of us and what we like to get up to.
Adam, Sam, and I occasionally enjoy sharing one woman, bringing her to the heights of ecstasy, having her come over and over again until she’s exhausted and damn near passed out in our arms.
We haven’t indulged in fun like that in a while, all of us too busy doing our own thing, and Sam becoming increasingly fixated on the idea of meeting the one and settling down.
But it looks like our dry streak might be coming to an end.
“Adam,” I say. “Do you want to go get Sam?”
“You go get Sam,” Adam says without skipping a beat. "You’ve already had a minute to have a conversation with her. At least let us get acquainted."
God, I hate when he’s right.
I meet her gaze and find she’s amused, so I wink. “Don’t start without me, darling.”
“I won’t," she whispers, and that sultry voice has my cock jumping and pressing against the zipper of my jeans again. Fuck.
I need to get Sam and hurry back.
As I leave the kitchen, I only belatedly realize that I didn’t even get whatever the fuck I went in there for. Oh, that’s right. Anti-nausea pills. Sam gets nauseous when he's around too many people for too long. I know James usually keeps some in his bedroom, but I don't know exactly where, and he's not answering his phone.
Anyway, it looks like Sam won't have to worry about his nausea much longer.
He'll be occupied with something else for the next hour or so.
We're probably going to leave the party early, which is a shame because James told us that he was finally going to introduce us to his long-distance girlfriend, and we were trying to hold out till then.
But hey, if it's either that or taking that sweet honey out on a date, Lord knows what I'm choosing.
We can meet James' girlfriend another time.
As I step into the living room, I hear people calling me, but I ignore them, making a beeline for Sam, who’s sitting by himself, probably having driven every eligible woman away by being his moody self.
“Don’t ruin this," are the first words out of my mouth when I reach him.
"What?" he asks.
"I met a woman in the bedroom. She’s down for all of us. Adam’s down too, so it’s up to you to seal the deal. Come so we see if she likes you. Don’t ruin this.”
He sighs. “I’m not sure I’m into that anymore.”
“That’s fine,” I tell him. “Just come check her out first, because I don’t want to hear you complaining that you weren’t included."
