Page 3 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Lila

The coastal wind whipped my dress against my thighs as we made our way down to the beach, my body still humming with unresolved need from the morning's interrupted encounters. I'd chosen my outfit deliberately—a flowy turquoise sundress that Connor loved, short enough to reveal plenty of leg and low-cut enough that his eyes kept drifting to my chest whenever Nick wasn't looking. If I couldn't fuck my husband in private, maybe we'd find a place to fool around on the beach.

"Beautiful day,"

Nick commented. His eyes darted to my cleavage, and I wondered if he was aware of the electric current running between Connor and me. His black hair ruffled in the breeze as he led the way down a set of wooden steps that led to Nye Beach, his tattooed arms flexing as he gripped the weathered railing.

Connor's hand found the small of my back, his touch sending heat racing up my spine.

"Gorgeous,"

he agreed, but his eyes were fixed on me, not the horizon. His fingers dipped lower for just a second, grazing the curve of my ass before returning to an acceptable position. The brief contact was enough to make my breath catch.

The beach stretched before us, relatively empty for a warm summer morning. Waves crashed against the shore in a rhythm that matched the pulse between my legs—steady, insistent, demanding attention. Sand slipped between my toes as we reached the bottom of the stairs, the three of us automatically forming a line as we walked toward the water's edge.

"How far do you want to go?"

Nick asked, gesturing down the shoreline.

I bit back a suggestive response, though the glint in Connor's eye told me he'd caught my unspoken innuendo. Instead, I shrugged.

"Let's just walk until we feel like turning back."

Nick moved ahead slightly, giving Connor the opportunity to lean close, his lips brushing my ear.

"That dress should be illegal,"

he murmured.

"Been thinking about bending you over since you put it on."

"That was the plan,"

I whispered back, letting my hand briefly brush against the front of his shorts. He was already half-hard, and the knowledge sent a thrill through me.

"We'll find a moment alone,"

he promised, his voice a low growl that made my thighs clench.

"Even if I have to drag you behind those rocks."

I followed his gaze to a cluster of large boulders further down the beach. The idea of being pressed against cold stone, Connor's hands hiking up my dress while waves crashed nearby, was almost unbearably erotic. I swallowed hard, nodding slightly.

"Coming?"

Nick called over his shoulder, and I nearly choked at the unintentional double entendre.

"Right behind you,"

Connor replied, shooting me a private smirk.

We caught up to Nick, and I found myself walking between the two men. The wind picked up, plastering my dress against my body and occasionally lifting the hem dangerously high. I caught Nick's eyes flicking toward my legs before quickly looking away, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. Interesting. I hadn't considered that Nick might find me attractive, though the idea was not unwelcome.

More surprising was Connor's reaction—or lack thereof. Usually, he was possessive in a playful way, making exaggerated gestures to block other men's views if my clothing revealed too much. But now, he seemed almost pleased that Nick had noticed.

The three of us fell into easy conversation as we walked, discussing plans for the rest of our vacation. Connor's hand kept finding excuses to touch me—adjusting my windblown hair, guiding me around driftwood, brushing sand from my shoulder. Each touch was casual enough to appear innocent but lingered just long enough to feel deliberate. By the time we neared the rocky outcropping he'd mentioned earlier, I was practically vibrating with need.

"I'm going to check out those tide pools,"

Nick said, pointing to a section of beach where receding water had left small ecosystems stranded among the rocks.

Connor seized the opportunity immediately.

"We'll join you in a bit,"

he said, his hand already closing around my wrist.

"Lila wanted to take some photos by those larger rocks."

"I did?"

I asked, then quickly caught on.

"Oh—right, for Instagram."

Nick nodded, already heading toward the tide pools.

"Take your time. I'm hoping to find some starfish and anemones."

The moment Nick was out of earshot, Connor pulled me toward the outcropping of rocks, his pace quickening with each step.

"Thirty minutes of foreplay is my fucking limit,"

he growled, guiding me behind the largest boulder where we'd be hidden from the main beach.

"I'm not going to make it."

I laughed.

"I can see it on your gravestone. Died of being denied sex for a full thirty-six hours."

His mouth crashed into mine, cutting off my giggles. The kiss was hungry and demanding. I opened for him instantly, our tongues sliding together in a dance we'd perfected over years together. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me hard against him so I could feel the rigid length of his cock through his shorts.

"I've been dying to finish what we started while Nick was in the shower,"

he groaned against my neck, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through the thin fabric of my dress. My nipple peaked instantly under his touch, and I arched into his palm.

"There's no one around,"

I urged, guiding his other hand under my hem. He made a strangled sound when his fingers met bare skin, discovering I'd skipped underwear entirely.

"Jesus, Lila,"

he breathed, finding me slick and ready.

"Were you planning this all along?"

I bit his lower lip gently.

"Maybe I just like the breeze against my pussy."

His fingers slid between my folds, circling my clit with practiced precision.

"Or maybe you're just a fucking tease,"

he suggested, pressing two fingers inside me without warning.

I gasped, clutching his shoulders as pleasure shot through me.

"Only for you."

The rock at my back and Connor at my front created a delicious trap. His fingers worked me expertly, his thumb maintaining pressure on my clit as his fingers curled to find that spot that made me see stars. My hips rocked against his hand, chasing the release that had been denied all morning.

"That's it,"

he encouraged, watching my face with heated intensity.

"Let me see you come right here on the beach, where anyone could walk by."

I was close, so fucking close, my inner walls beginning to clench around his fingers when a child's shriek of laughter carried from somewhere nearby. We both froze, reality crashing back as the sound of a family approaching echoed against the rocks.

"Shit,"

Connor whispered, withdrawing his hand reluctantly. I nearly sobbed at the loss of contact, my body thrumming with frustration as he quickly adjusted my dress.

Connor and I were posing for an innocent beach selfie by the time the family rounded the corner, the parents nodding politely as we passed. My cheeks burned, partly from arousal and partly from the near-miss of being caught.

We rejoined Nick, who was crouched by a particularly vibrant tide pool, seemingly entranced by a purple sea star.

"Check this out,"

he said, gesturing us closer.

I knelt beside him, careful to keep my dress modestly arranged. Connor joined us, and I noticed how his eyes lingered on Nick's profile, something unreadable in his expression. It wasn't the first time I'd caught Connor looking at his friend with what might be more than platonic appreciation, but this time it struck me differently—perhaps because my own senses were already heightened by my arousal.

"Did you get your photos?"

Nick asked, glancing up at me.

"Yep, a perfect selfie," I said.

We spent the next hour exploring the tide pools and walking further down the beach. The sexual tension between Connor and me remained, building with each stolen touch and private glance. I began to notice, too, a subtle energy between the three of us—the way Nick's eyes sometimes followed Connor's movements, how Connor positioned himself between us as we walked, a bridge connecting two points.

By midday, the beach had grown more crowded, eliminating any hope for privacy. We decided to head back toward town for lunch at a seafood shack overlooking the water. As we climbed the wooden steps back to street level, Connor pulled me slightly behind while Nick forged ahead.

"This is torture,"

he whispered, his hand sliding briefly under my dress to cup my ass.

"I need to be inside you."

"We'll figure it out,"

I whispered back.