Page 37 of Cuffed to my Roomies
“Oh! Oh!”
I was crying out as Brett tugged and squeezed my swollen clit, and Derek pumped into me. The sight of his narrow hips rocking hard and fast, his jutting erection disappearing into me again and again, was incredibly erotic. So was the hand that came from behind me and worked me until I was screaming, a high-pitched wail that went on as my orgasm crashed over me. I’d never felt anything like it. It was a hot rush, and I lost control of all my muscles, jerking and flailing so that if Brett hadn’t held on to me, I probably would’ve had a head injury to explain to the ER nurses. I called out both their names again and again as Derek finished inside me, slammed into me and kissed my mouth hard. Our teeth hit together as we kissed, desperate, still joined, sweaty and satisfied.
Brett said something to Derek, and then Derek’s hands under my legs took my weight and Brett stepped away. I slid down Derek’s bare body and stood on my feet. I smiled at him.
“That was awesome,” he said, grinning, “but we need to give Brett the bathroom for a few minutes.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, thinking he needed to pee.
“I can’t hold you like that, smell and hear you like that and not get hard. I’ll just take a quick shower, and then I’ll join you in bed. Get some sleep,” he said. He was being so considerate—we’d turned him on, and he’d gotten me off again, and then wanted to let me sleep while he found relief on his own.
“No,” I said insistently, “No pairing off, and no getting left behind. I mean it. If you’re staying in here, I’m staying, too. Maybe I can help.”
“You’ve got to be tired.”
“Tomorrow’s my day off from Envy. I don’t have to be at the bar till six-thirty. So I can sleep in,” I said, “What? Should I go put on something sexy?” I asked.
“There is nothing sexier than what I’m looking at already,” Brett said, his voice rough. It did something to me
I was standing there completely naked in front of Brett. Derek gave a chuckle, “Girl has more stamina than me. I’m all for watching if I can sit down, but I’m pretty wiped after that performance.”
“Shall we move to the bed?” I said archly.
“Yes,” he said, “It’s not like I can say no to an offer like that.”
“I can’t leave my men unsatisfied,” I said, my voice a kittenish purr. I was really feeling like a temptress, like a woman who needed two men to meet her needs, a woman who could bring a big, strong cop to his knees.
“Damn,” he swore.
Derek lay back on the mattress, arms crossed behind his head like he was getting comfortable to watch a ball game. I smiled at his obvious relaxation. I pointed to the bed, and, to my surprise, Brett stretched out on it in his boxer briefs. I crawled across the mattress to him and straddled his stomach. Leaning down, I brushed my lips against his briefly, tantalizing.
“So, I heard I turn you on. Did you like that? Did you like holding me while Derek had his way with me? Knowing you could flip me around and take me yourself anytime you wanted?” I dragged the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip, “I would’ve let you. I’d let you do practically anything, Brett.”
“God, Lynette, are you trying to kill me?” he said, pinned under me on the bed. His hands curved over my bottom, lifting me and rubbing me against his burgeoning erection. I could feel the damp patch on his boxers from his wetness. I could smell the faint musk that was his distinctive scent, and my body responded to it just like that first time. Something primitive made my pulse kick up, my body rocket from zero to sixty—okay, more like from thirty to a hundred. It was a mating urge I couldn’t even begin to explain, but Brett, the scent of him, the taste of him, had done something to me, marked me out as his. Something about him, something he held back felt mysterious, made him irresistible to me in a different way than open, funny Derek was attractive.
Brett moved me somehow. His unselfish willingness to go get himself off so I could rest, combined with that jealous growl of his in the bar bathroom left me with a contradiction I wanted to understand. For the moment, I sat on his lower abdomen—rock hard with ridges of muscle—and trailed my fingers lightly down his chest, scratching ever so slightly, just to see how he responded. If the hardening of his manhood behind me was any indication, he liked it. I leaned down, letting my hair fall on his face, my bare, tender nipples rub against his chest.
