Four play, p.8

  Four Play, p.8

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  She leaned into his chest and rested her forehead against his chin. “We still have today and tomorrow off together.”

  “Yep.”

  She leaned back to look at him again. “Do we have any plans beyond being couch bums?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I thought about taking you to dinner tonight. Maybe a movie.”

  “Ooooh, date night!”

  “And tomorrow I thought we’d have some guys over from the station for a barbecue. Or if you prefer, we can keep it to just you, me, Brody, and Tate.”

  Remembering her teasing Brody the previous night, she frowned and nibbled at her bottom lip.

  “Something wrong?” Chase asked.

  She met his gaze, unsure of how to say what was on her mind. “You don’t think . . . You don’t think things will be weird between us now, do you? I mean with Brody and Tate?”

  “You’re wanting to know if your having sex with them changes things.”

  She nodded. “Well, yeah . . . and between you and me.”

  As if sensing the very real worry in her voice, he cupped her face and ran his thumb over her lips.

  “I can’t speak for Brody and Tate. But I can most assuredly tell you that this changes nothing between you and me. In some ways . . . I think it’s better. Right now I swear I just want to sweep you into my arms and hold you for the next two days. I can’t explain it, but what happened was so absolutely awesome. I don’t even have words. It went beyond a simple fantasy fulfillment. Maybe a part of me worried you wouldn’t be into it. Maybe I worried I wouldn’t be into it. But right now I feel really damn lucky that I have a woman who understands my kinks and fantasies, has a set of her own, and doesn’t mind acting on mine or hers. That freaking rocks, Zoe. Maybe I’m a little relieved because I feel like we’re being more honest with each other than ever. I’m not saying I could have never not shared this kind of stuff with you. I think we would have been just fine and our relationship would have been as incredible as it’s always been. But now? I feel like I’ve been given a bonus on top of everything else.”

  She stared at him in shock. This was the most talkative Chase had ever been when it came to the two of them. Their relationship had always been a study in fun, comfortable, and great sex. She’d been willing to go along with the status quo because she wasn’t someone who ever liked to rock the boat. And why fuck up something good by demanding more?

  Her heart squeezed when she saw the absolute conviction in his eyes.

  God, but she loved this man. She’d loved him for a long time. No, it hadn’t been some overnight revelation. It had been more like a gradual awareness, something that grew day by day until she hadn’t been able to imagine her life without him.

  It bloomed and grew, continued to grow each day they were together. It was comfortable. It was steady. Like him.

  Shouldn’t she tell him? Shouldn’t she say the words? Somehow she imagined a better place than the kitchen of a deer camp after a night of hedonistic debauchery. For now, it was enough to know that it was there. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was she. She’d find the right time. She wanted it to be perfect.

  CHAPTER | NINE

  To her relief, things hadn’t gotten weird between her, Brody, and Tate. It had been a constant worry on her mind the few days following the night at the deer camp. They looked at her differently, but then she looked at them a whole lot different too.

  On an emotional level, nothing had changed. She’d always cared very deeply for her two friends. Oh, she’d always thought they were hot. What normal female wouldn’t? She’d even had her moments of imagining what they’d be like in bed.

  Now she knew, and when she looked at them, she remembered every detail.

  “Hey, Zoe, you ready? We’re going to be late,” Brody bellowed from the kitchen.

  She grinned, finished lacing her tennis shoe, and headed out of her bedroom to meet him and Tate.

  They were standing in the kitchen when she walked in. Brody had the keys in his hand and was waiting by the door. He made a show of checking his watch, and she rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not playing this time,” she reminded them.

  “You will if one of ours doesn’t show,” Tate said. “Where else are we going to get a sub?”

  “Ask one of the wives to play.”

  “We like your breasts better,” Brody teased.

  A hot flush worked up her neck. Damn it. In the past, not only had that sort of remark been common, but she damn sure wouldn’t have blushed like a moron—or remembered his mouth around her breasts.

  She glanced down at her plain T-shirt. “I came better prepared this time. No way can I come out of this one.”

  “Pity,” Tate said. “That was the high point of the last game.”

  She scowled up at him.

  Tate put his hands on her shoulders and herded her out the door. “Besides, Chase is going to be there. He had some paperwork to finish at the station, but he said he’d meet us there.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh, provided he doesn’t meet with an untimely delay.”

  Brody chuckled as he got into the truck. “We’d never sabotage the team captain.”

  Zoe climbed into the back and shoved over Brody’s pile of stuff so she could have room on the seat. Thank goodness he kept the house cleaner than his truck.

  She leaned up between the two seats as Brody backed out of the drive. “So what’s on the line today? Beer? Barbecue? Glory?”

  “Yeah, yeah, and yeah,” Tate said. “Loser has to throw a barbecue—complete with beer, lots of beer, for the winner.”

  She frowned. “Is it bad of me to hope we lose then?”

  Tate whipped his head around and looked at her aghast. “Traitor!”

  She gave him a smug smile. “C’mon, Tate. Nobody cooks barbecue better than Chief Maxwell. Do we really want to eat whatever the sheriff’s department comes up with?”

  “She has a point there,” Brody said.

  “Well, hell, now we have to throw the damn game?” Tate asked.

  “Maybe you should renegotiate the winner’s terms,” Zoe suggested. “That way you don’t forfeit all your manly glory and you still get something good out of the deal.”

  Brody’s face twisted in thought. “Beer . . . and what?”

  She laughed. “As long as the beer’s covered, do you care?”

  He grinned at her in the rearview mirror. “Weeell, I suppose we could have a side wager. Just between us.”

  She raised an eyebrow and stared back at him. “Oh? Do tell.”

  “Since we’d be deprived of decent barbecue if we won, it seems like Tate and I should be amply rewarded if we prove our manhood on the ball field.”

  Tate snorted and covered his mouth as he began laughing.

  “Oh Jesus,” she muttered. “What did you have in mind?”

  Brody glanced over at Tate, and she could see the mischief gleaming in both the men’s eyes. Then Brody looked back at her in the mirror again. His eyes were all wide and innocent.

  “You in a bow? Like a really small bow?”

  She almost swallowed her tongue. Then she recovered enough to tease back. “Just a bow? So all I have to do is parade around in a bow and you’ll be happy.”

  “That’s not what he’s saying at all,” Tate growled. “It begins with you in a bow. A fantasy of ours. But that’s only the beginning. It ends with you, sans bow, bent over the arm of the couch while we fuck your brains out.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Brody shot back. “My fantasy involves her on her knees, between my legs, her mouth around ...”

  “Okay, okay, I get it!” she said, throwing her hands over her ears. Then she dissolved into laughter. “You two are terrible.”

  Then she had a thought.

  “Uh-oh,” Tate muttered. “I don’t like that evil gleam that just appeared in her eyes.”

  “So what do I get if you lose?” she smirked.

  Brody’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Is our losing even an option? What do you have in mind?”

  “Well,” she began, “it seems to me if you guys get rewarded for winning, you should have to pay up if you lose.”

  “We’re listening,” Tate said. “What do you have in mind?”

  Now she scrambled to come up with something. Her brain was fried, damn it.

  “Okay, if you lose, I get a full-body massage from both of you, and I want the works. Oh, and dinner. A really yummy dinner. And,” she added, warming to her topic, “I want my chores done for a week.”

  Tate shot Brody a disgusted look. “She’s such a girl.”

  “Couldn’t you come up with something good?” Brody asked.

  “Hey, to a guy sex is the ultimate reward. To a woman? Having a man do the cooking and cleaning is better than an orgasm any day.”

  “That’s not what you were saying a few nights ago,” Tate muttered.

  Her cheeks warmed again, but this time she was determined not to let embarrassment take over. She loved that they could joke and kid around about what had happened. Her biggest fear had been about residual awkwardness. As it stood, she was the only one acting stupid.

  “Okay so maybe after you cook and clean, you can give me a screaming orgasm,” she said cheekily.

  Brody grinned. “Works for me.”

  Hours later, Zoe traipsed into the house with three very smug males. Having been told all about the wager between Zoe, Brody, and Tate, Chase had added his own to the mix.

  If the firemen won, Zoe had to serve them dinner—naked. If they lost, well, since Chase was so sure they wouldn’t lose, he’d never offered anything to Zoe. Smug bastard.

  And since they’d handily defeated the sheriff’s department, Zoe now had to pay up. Three times.

  “Cheer up, baby,” Chase teased.

  She shot him a glare and kicked off her shoes in the doorway. “And when, pray tell, am I expected to pay up?”

  The three men exchanged looks.

  “Uh, now would be good,” Tate suggested with a grin.

  Well hell. They were really going to make her pay up.

  “If I’ve got to cook, then get the hell out of my kitchen. I’ll serve it up in the living room.”

  She made shooing motions with her hands. Chase caught one of them and brought her fingers to his lips.

  “Don’t forget the most important part of serving dinner,” he said. “Make sure you’re naked.”

  Brody and Tate burst into laughter but hurried out of the kitchen before Zoe could retaliate.

  She shook her head but grinned as Chase disappeared behind them.

  She made quick work of dinner because quite frankly she was more interested in what happened after dinner. If Brody could get away with making burgers for his turn at supper, so could she. It beat Spaghetti-O’s out of a can, at any rate.

  Twenty minutes later, she had the burgers on a platter complete with drinks and a bag of chips. Hey, they couldn’t be picky if she was serving food naked, right?

  She set the tray on the counter and then sucked in a deep breath. She stripped out of her clothes and left them in a pile on the kitchen floor. Lord, she felt ridiculous, but a bet was a bet.

  Balancing the tray and mindful of the drinks, she set off for the living room. As soon as she entered, whistles rent the air and the television was promptly turned off. Good to know she commanded more attention than the TV.

  “Your dinner,” she said, bending over in front of Brody to allow him to take a plate from the tray.

  He fumbled with the plate, his eyes never leaving her breasts. He was such a guy.

  She moved on to Tate, who was also staring unrepentantly as she delivered his food. She offered him a sugary-sweet smile and then straightened when he’d scooped his offering from the tray.

  Lastly she delivered Chase’s food, since this had been his fool idea. His eyes glimmered with laughter, and he copped a feel, palming one breast when she bent over.

  She shook her head and started back for the kitchen.

  “Where you going?” Chase called after her.

  “To get dressed,” she said over her shoulder.

  She was treated to three male protests. She stopped and turned to look at them with a raised brow.

  Tate shrugged. “Not a lot of sense in getting dressed when Brody and I have yet to collect our winnings.”

  Brody snickered and took a drink to cover his smile.

  She rolled her eyes. “So you want me to stay naked while you eat?”

  Tate nodded. “Well, yeah. Think of it as ambience. And it’ll save us the trouble of undressing you afterward.”

  She laughed and went back to the kitchen to get her plate, returning a moment later, still naked. She felt utterly ridiculous, especially when she had to ask Brody to shove over on the couch so she could sit.

  Instead of moving over toward Tate, he patted the space between them, which meant she had to step over his long-assed legs to get to her seat.

  She settled in and began to eat, although eating when naked—definitely a new experience.

  Brody leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry about spilling. I’ll be more than happy to lick it off you later.”

  Ah hell. Images of him doing just that exploded in her brain. Her hands shook as she put her hamburger down on the plate that rested on the coffee table. Deciding to get back at him just a little, she turned and cocked her head and murmured in a low voice, “Mmmm, sort of like I’ll be licking your cock in a little while.”

  His eyes narrowed and he swallowed. She let her gaze drift downward to where the bulge in his jeans had just gotten quite a bit more noticeable. Then she smiled and went back to her burger.

  Chase chuckled from his chair, and she looked over at him to see his eyes full of amusement. Strangely he hadn’t asked for any sexual favors, but then he didn’t have to. And maybe watching Tate and Brody’s “reward” would be reward in of itself.

  She finished half of the burger and then licked each and every one of her fingers, letting her tongue linger over the tips.

  Seeing that the others were finished, she stood and began to collect the plates and the empty cans. With a saucy smile, she disappeared into the kitchen and immediately began to wonder just how soon they planned on collecting.

  She delayed as long as she could. Part of her couldn’t wait to go back in. The other part was a little apprehensive. In the end, giddy won out over apprehensive and she walked back into the living room only to see Brody standing in the middle of the room, his hands at his fly.

  He smiled when she stopped in the doorway, and then he crooked his finger in a come-hither motion. A little dazed, she complied. When she was directly in front of him, he put a hand on her shoulder. Then he pushed until she went down on her knees in front of him.

  “Perfect,” he murmured.

  He unzipped his fly and shoved his jeans down just far enough that his cock came free. Not waiting for her to take the initiative, he threaded his hand through her hair, gripped the back of her head, and guided her toward his fisted cock.

  The broad head pushed past her lips and onto her tongue. She reached for his legs, something to hold on to as she leaned forward to take him deeper.

  His breath came out in an audible hiss when she took him to the back of her throat.

  “Yes, baby, just like that. God, I love your mouth. It’s so hot and sweet.”

  His words spurred her excitement. She wanted to please him, wanted him to gain the ultimate satisfaction from the act.

  She slid one hand from his thigh to delve into his jeans, pulling them lower so she could cup his balls. The crisp hair rasped over her knuckles. She gripped his sac, rolling it as she sucked back and forth over his cock.

  He was long and thick and stabbed into her mouth, gliding roughly over her tongue, touching the roof of her mouth and the sides of her cheeks. There wasn’t a place in her mouth or throat he didn’t touch, didn’t explore as he rocked back and forth, stroked long and deep.

  He loosened his grip at the base of his dick and reached gently for her fingers, twining them with his. Then he took her hand and positioned it where his had been, signaling his desire for her to work the base.

  She gripped his cock, but his hand didn’t leave hers. It worked with hers, back and forth. He squeezed when he wanted more pressure and let off when he wanted less.

  It was hot. She loved that he guided her, that he showed her how he wanted it and that his fingers lay over hers. She liked that connection. It made it more personal.

  His fingers gathered the strands of hair and then danced across her scalp in a gentle, loving motion that belied the urgent way his hips shoved toward her.

  He sank deep, held himself there for a long moment, and then eased back out, allowing her a moment to catch her breath. Then he repeated the action, his hand covering hers, moving both his hand and hers up and down his rigid erection.

  “Do you want me to come in your mouth, Zoe?”

  She tilted her head back, allowing the head of his dick to rest on her bottom lip. He stared down at her, his gaze so intense it raised goose bumps down her arms.

  She nodded and sucked the tip farther into her mouth again. He closed his eyes and groaned and then pushed forward with his hips until her mouth met their joined hands.

  “Then do it, baby. Make me come.”

  He released her hand and delved his fingers into her hair so that both his hands were holding her head. She gripped his cock and sucked him deep. She began to move faster, gripped him harder, moving in rhythm with her mouth.

  His fingers tightened in her hair, and he strained forward, going up on tiptoe. No longer was she doing all the work. He fucked hard, going as deep as he could. She jerked harder and began swallowing as soon as the first hot jet of semen splashed over her tongue.

  He filled her mouth again, and she had to swallow rapidly to keep up. He came and kept coming until some of the semen spilled down her chin. He slid one last time to the very back of her throat and held there as his entire body trembled against her.

  Finally he let go, withdrawing from her mouth. Some of the liquid dripped onto the floor as she gulped for air. She reached up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, but Brody stopped her.

 
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