Page 2 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Lila

I woke to Connor's hard cock pressed against my ass and his warm breath on my neck, his massive, well-muscled body surrounding me. My body responded instantly, a delicious heat pooling between my thighs as I pressed back against him. The cabin's cramped layout came rushing back to me—Nick's sleeping form just feet away, separated only by a flimsy curtain that did absolutely nothing to muffle sound. Fuck. Six more days of vacation in this tiny converted garage suddenly felt like an eternity of sexual frustration.

"Morning,"

Connor whispered, his lips grazing my ear.

I turned my head slightly, catching his eyes in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. They were dark with a need that matched my own. Usually, this look meant we'd spend the next hour making the headboard slam against the wall of our Portland apartment.

"Morning,"

I whispered back, shifting slightly to face him while keeping our bodies hidden beneath the navy duvet. The queen bed suddenly felt both too small and not private enough.

"Sleep okay?"

His hand slid over my hip, fingers tracing the edge of my sleep shorts.

"Dreamt about you,"

he murmured.

"Woke up hard."

No shit. The evidence pressed insistently against me, and I bit my lip to hold back a moan as he rolled his hips ever so slightly.

"Nick's still asleep,"

he whispered, his hand drifting beneath my tank top to cup my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple, sending sparks through my body.

I glanced over at the twin bed on the opposite wall. Through the gap in the curtain, I could see Nick's dark hair splayed against the pillow, his broad back rising and falling with deep, even breaths. The small beach cabin suddenly felt microscopic—the galley kitchen just steps from our bed, the dining table where our clothes were piled, the single bathroom where the shower now dripped. Every inch of the open-concept space felt like it amplified sound.

"We have to be quiet,"

I breathed, arching into Connor's touch despite my words.

His fingers circled my nipple, pinching gently as his other hand slid down between my legs, stopping at the edge of my shorts.

"You think you can manage that?"

He knew damn well I couldn't. Not when he touched me like this.

I shot him a warning look but didn't stop him as his hand slipped beneath the elastic waistband. Fuck, I was already wet. His fingers ghosted over my folds, barely touching where I needed him. My breath hitched, and I immediately worried it was too loud.

"Tease,"

I whispered against his lips, kissing him softly as my hand found his cock through his boxers.

The bed creaked as Connor shifted closer, and we both froze, eyes darting toward Nick's bed. The curtain refused to stay shut, and through the gap, we could clearly see Nick's face. He mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, still asleep but facing us now. Connor and I remained motionless, my hand still wrapped around his length, his fingers poised at my entrance. The precariousness of the situation only heightened my arousal—a fact that should have embarrassed me but instead sent another rush of wetness between my thighs.

When Nick's breathing returned to its deep rhythm, Connor's fingers resumed their exploration, dipping slightly inside me before retreating. A silent torture. I bit my lip to keep from making noise as I squeezed his cock through the thin cotton. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and I felt drunk with power knowing I could make him lose control.

"This is going to kill me,"

he growled quietly, slipping one finger inside me with agonizing slowness.

I buried my face in his shoulder to stifle a moan. We'd had sex the morning before leaving Portland, yet my body responded like it had been weeks. Connor and I had always been insatiable for each other, fucking in every room of our apartment, in his car, once even in a restaurant bathroom after I'd whispered filthy promises during dinner. The constraint of the cabin felt like torture.

His thumb circled my clit as his finger curled inside me, finding that spot that made my toes curl. I bit down on his shoulder, muffling the sound building in my throat.

"You're so fucking wet,"

he whispered, his voice strained with restraint.

“I want to be inside you so bad."

I nodded against his neck, working my hand into his boxers to grasp his bare cock. The silky hardness pulsed in my palm as I stroked him, catching the precum at the tip and using it to ease my movements.

A loud yawn from across the room made us both freeze again. Nick was stirring, stretching his tattooed arms above his head. Connor quickly withdrew his hand from my shorts, and I reluctantly released him, pulling the covers higher.

"Morning,"

Nick mumbled, sitting up and running a hand through his disheveled black hair. His eyes darted down to our bodies, thankfully still covered by the duvet.

"Hey,"

Connor replied, his voice impressively even despite the flush on his cheeks.

“Did you sleep okay?"

I pressed my thighs together, trying to quell the throbbing between them.

"Yeah, this bed is small, but it’s comfy,"

Nick said, standing and stretching again. I couldn't help noticing the defined muscles of his chest and abs as his t-shirt rode up. Nick had always been handsome. He was Korean American, with the striking bone structure and smoldering dark eyes of a Korean drama star, but when he was younger, his build had been tall and lean. Now, his body was bigger, broader, and more muscular. Connor had mentioned his friend had gotten into working out, but seeing the results in person was... distracting. I averted my eyes, feeling a flash of guilt.

While Nick used the bathroom first, I slipped out of bed and busied myself with the coffee maker in the kitchen area. Connor joined me, pressing against my back as I measured the grounds.

"You're killing me,"

he whispered, his hands on my hips. I could feel him still hard against my ass.

I grabbed his cock through his sleep pants and rubbed it gently.

"We'll find a moment to take care of this. Later,"

I promised, turning to kiss him quickly before the bathroom door opened.

Nick offered to make breakfast while Connor and I took turns in the bathroom. By the time I emerged from my quick shower, wrapped in a robe and a towel with my hair dripping, the smell of bacon filled the cabin.

"Shower's free,"

I told Nick, who had already finished cooking and was plating the food.

He nodded and grabbed his clothes.

"Thanks. Save me some bacon."

The moment the bathroom door closed and the shower started running, Connor was on me. He backed me against the kitchen counter, his hands finding the edge of my towel.

"How much time do we have?"

I breathed as his mouth found my neck.

"Not enough,"

he growled, but that didn't stop his hands from unwrapping the robe and letting it drop to the floor.

I was naked in the middle of the kitchen, exposed and trembling with need as Connor's hands mapped my body. His mouth traveled down my neck to my breasts, tongue circling my nipple before sucking it between his lips. I gasped, tangling my fingers in his short brown hair.

"Fuck, Connor,"

I whispered, spreading my legs to accommodate his thigh as he pressed it between them.

"We can't—"

"I know,"

he said, but his hand slid between my legs anyway, finding me slick and ready.

"Just want to touch you."

I rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure that built rapidly. The shower's white noise provided cover as I let out a quiet moan. His mouth returned to mine, swallowing the sounds as he worked two fingers inside me while his thumb circled my clit.

"That's it,"

he encouraged quietly.

"So fucking beautiful when you're desperate for it."

I was already close—the morning teasing had left me on edge. I clutched his shoulders, grinding against his hand as he curled his fingers just right. The pressure built, hot and tight in my core.

"Connor," I gasped.

"I'm going to—"

The shower shut off abruptly. We froze, locked together in our private moment that was about to become decidedly less private. Connor withdrew his hand reluctantly, and I scrambled to retrieve my robe from the floor, wrapping it around me just as the bathroom doorknob turned.

Nick emerged in a cloud of steam, a towel around his waist and another rubbing his hair dry. He paused, looking between us, and I wondered if our flushed faces gave us away.

"I think Lila used up all the hot water,"

he said, shaking his head.

"Oh damn, sorry!"

Was it me, or was my voice higher than normal? I ducked behind the curtains by the bed.

"Going to get dressed."

As I hurried to our bed to grab my clothes, I caught Connor adjusting himself discreetly. His eyes met mine across the room, promising that this interruption was only temporary. The throb between my legs agreed, persistently reminding me of how unsatisfied I remained.

Three days in this tiny cabin was going to be the sweetest torture.