Page 5 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Nick

It couldn't happen again. Seeing Lila naked, seeing Connor's gorgeous cock thrusting into her, it had brought back a wave of feelings, of sexual need, that I didn't want to even begin to think about. I needed distance, a hotel room, anything to stop this dangerous spiral of wanting my best friend's wife. As she led us down the sandy path toward the beach, her floral skirt dancing around those endless legs, I knew that this would be the thing that ended our friendship once and for all. Nothing Connor and I had done in college could compare to this.

They were married, and clearly madly in love. I had no place doing what I'd done, even if he had invited me.

"I'll check online for hotels after we settle,"

I called ahead, my voice carrying on the coastal breeze.

"You guys deserve some privacy for the rest of the trip."

Connor turned back, sunlight catching in his hazel eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, man. It's just a few more days."

But I'd made up my mind. After watching them that morning—Connor's hands claiming every inch of Lila's body, her back arching in ecstasy—I couldn't trust myself anymore. Eight years of friendship meant everything to me. Connor had been my rock since college, through breakups and career shifts, and I refused to betray that by indulging this wild fantasy.

The path opened to a stretch of pristine shore, devoid of the usual tourists. Lila bounded ahead, her auburn hair catching fire in the sunlight. Jesus fucking Christ. The crochet halter top she wore left little to the imagination—white thread barely containing full breasts that bounced with each step. The tie at her neck was a flimsy barrier between decency and my darkest fantasies.

"Perfect spot,"

she announced, spreading a blanket over the sand. When she bent to smooth the corners, her skirt rode up, revealing a sliver of pink fabric nestled between perfect ass cheeks.

My cock stiffened instantly, and I strategically positioned my backpack in front of me. Too late. Connor caught my gaze lingering on his wife's ass and shot me a knowing smirk. Instead of the punch to the face I deserved, he winked.

The wind picked up as we settled on the blanket, forming a triangle of bodies close enough that I could smell Lila's coconut sunscreen. I busied myself digging through my bag for sunglasses, desperate for something to hide my obvious staring.

"So what exactly did you mean by 'dorm rules' this morning?"

Lila asked, leaning back on her elbows. The position thrust her chest forward, straining against the delicate crochet pattern. It was chillier today, the wind of the Pacific cooling the air, and her nipples were pebbled against her top, poking through the loose weave in a way that was truly indecent.

Connor barked out a laugh, stretching his arm behind Lila's shoulders. His fingertips brushed the top of her spine where the halter tie formed a neat bow.

"Oh man, Nick, should I tell her about our arrangement?"

Heat crawled up my neck. Those memories had fueled countless late-night jerk-off sessions over the years. It had all ended when Connor had met Lila, when he'd explained to me that he was serious about her and couldn't stand the thought of breaking her heart.

"We had an understanding,"

I explained, my voice lower than intended.

"Our dorm room was tiny, privacy nonexistent. Sometimes one of us would bring a girl back, and well..."

"We'd give each other the room when possible,"

Connor continued.

"but sometimes that wasn't an option. So we developed 'dorm rules'—basically, if one of us was getting laid and the other needed to be in the room, we'd pretend to be asleep or wear headphones. But the other person was allowed to stay, and watch if he wasn’t too obvious about it and the girl didn’t object."

Lila's eyes widened.

"So you'd just be there while the other was having sex?"

"It was that or celibacy,"

I said with a shrug that belied the rapid-fire images flooding my brain—Connor pounding some sorority girl while I pretended to sleep, my own hand working beneath the sheets.

"We figured out that as long as the girl wasn't freaked out, it was actually kind of hot,"

Connor added, his fingers now playing with the knot at Lila's neck. The touch seemed casual, but I knew better.

"Whoever didn’t have a date for the night still got a nice little show. And most of the girls found it hot, too. Eventually, they started to expect it, and we could both be—"

"Active at the same time,"

I finished, meeting Lila's gaze directly. Her pupils dilated, a flush spreading across her chest.

"With different partners,"

Connor clarified.

The memory hit me like a physical blow—sophomore year, Connor and I each with our current girlfriends. We’d started on his bed, just hanging out and chatting, but as things had gotten heated, we’d finished things right there, side by side, bodies brushing together as we fucked the girls in unison. The girls had been as into it as we had.

Lila licked her lips, a quick dart of pink that made my cock throb painfully in my shorts.

"So you've watched each other before."

It wasn't a question, but Connor answered anyway.

"More times than I can count."

His fingers found the bow at Lila's neck, tugging gently.

"It was our thing back then."

"I always found it hot as hell,"

I admitted, unable to stop myself.

"Hearing everything, catching glimpses..."

I swallowed hard, afraid I'd said too much.

But Lila wasn't offended. Her eyes gleamed as she processed this new information.

"And did you ever... cross boundaries? Get involved with each other's... activities?"

Connor's laugh rumbled deep in his chest.

"There were a few close calls. Nothing explicitly crossing lines, but the energy in the room sometimes..."

He shrugged, leaving the sentence dangling between us like bait.

I glanced at him, startled. I'd never known that he'd felt the same way I had, and I wondered if he had fantasized about me the way I'd fantasized about him.

The wind gusted suddenly, lifting Lila's skirt high enough to reveal a glimpse of pink between her thighs. She squealed and pressed it down, but not before I memorized the image—smooth, tanned skin and that tiny triangle of fabric, damp at the center.

"Fuck, it's windy,"

she complained, but the excitement in her voice betrayed her. She liked being seen. Liked knowing I was looking.

"Perfect beach day,"

Connor countered, scanning the empty shoreline. His hand trailed lazily down Lila's back, following the curve of her spine to where her skirt met skin.

"Secluded too."

I forced myself to look away, digging out my phone.

"I should start checking hotels. Give you guys some actual privacy for the rest of the trip."

But my fingers hovered over the screen, unwilling to make the search. Last night had awakened something primal in me—not just desire for Lila, but a deeper craving to reconnect with Connor in ways I'd never fully acknowledged. The tension between us coiled tight as a spring, ready to snap.

"You don't have to,"

Lila said, frowning.

"After this morning,"

I continued.

"it's probably better if I—"

"Lila enjoyed you watching,"

Connor interrupted, his voice matter-of-fact.

"Didn't you, babe?"

She hesitated, then nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"I didn’t realize how hot it would be, watching you watch me."

She blushed, ducking her chin.

"You're really sexy, Nick."

The confession hung in the air between us, heavy with possibility. I stared at my phone, heart hammering against my ribs.

But this was his wife, not some random hookup from a frat party. Unsettled, I focused on my phone screen with laser intensity, scrolling through hotel listings that blurred before my eyes. One room, one night, that's all I needed to break this spell. To stop imagining how Lila's skin would feel under my palms, how Connor's approving gaze would burn into me as I touched her.

Lila’s squeal made me look up from the phone, and I found her clutching her halter top to her chest, swatting at her husband. Earlier this morning, I'd seen everything—full, perfect breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples, and I wanted to see her again. My cock strained painfully against my zipper as blood rushed south with dizzying speed.

"Connor!"

she hissed, shooting him a look that wasn't nearly as angry as it should have been.

"What are you doing?"

He laughed, low and wicked.

"Making sure Nick doesn't book that hotel room."

His eyes met mine over his wife's shoulder, challenging and complicit at once.

"Tell him, babe. Tell him why you're wearing that particular top today."

She bit her lip, the fabric clutched loosely against her chest now, more teasing than concealing.

"I don't usually..."

she started, then sighed.

"I get self-conscious about wearing this in public. Too revealing. I bought it for date nights at home."

"And I love seeing Lila so sexy,"

Connor added, his hand sliding possessively around her waist.

"So today, while you were in the shower, I asked her to wear it. To see if you were into it."

The words hung heavy between us. He'd dressed her for me.

Lila's eyes found mine, something vulnerable and hungry flickering in their depths. She paused, pink tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"I can’t stop thinking about this morning, Nick."

My breath caught. I'd spent hours replaying those moments—Connor's hands spreading her thighs wide, pinning her in place, turning her to face me, showing me everything. Even with our dorm rules, he’d never been so bold.

“Stop stressing, man,”

Connor said gently.

“It’s vacation. We deserve some fun.”

"Post-nut clarity is a bitch,"

I muttered, trying to lighten the moment, trying to drag my eyes anywhere but the curve of her breast peeking from behind her loosened top.

"I should really find that hotel. Give you two some space."

Connor cast a deliberate glance up and down the beach. Not a soul in sight, just endless sand and foaming waves. The nearest group of tourists was a tiny cluster of color half a mile away.

"Space is overrated,"

he said, reaching for the second tie, further down Lila’s back.

This time, when he tugged the string loose, she didn't grab for the falling fabric. The crochet top slid down her torso like water, pooling in her lap and leaving her gloriously bare from the waist up. My mouth went dry at the sight—smooth tanned skin, the gentle slope of her breasts crowned by tight nipples that pebbled further under my gaze.

"Connor!"

she laughed, swatting his hand playfully, but made no move to cover herself. Instead, she arched her back slightly, the movement so subtle it might have been unconscious if not for the way her eyes never left mine.

"Fuck,"

I breathed, unable to form a more coherent response.

"That's the idea,"

Connor said, his voice husky with want. His palm slid up her ribs to cup one perfect breast, thumb circling the nipple until it strained toward his touch.

"Look at her, Nick. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?"

My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape. This was beyond watching from across a dark room—this was an invitation. The sun highlighted every detail: the freckle just below her collarbone, the way goosebumps spread across her skin when Connor pinched her nipple, the rapid pulse visible at the base of her throat.

"I should go,"

I said, though I made no move to stand.

"This isn't—I mean, we shouldn't—"

"Why not?"

Connor challenged, his free hand sliding up Lila's thigh, disappearing beneath her skirt. Her breath hitched, eyelids fluttering.

"We're all adults. We all want this. And there's no one around for miles."

Did we? My cock certainly did, throbbing painfully against my zipper. But years of friendship, of boundaries set and respected, held me frozen.

"What about afterward?"

I asked, voice rough.

"What happens when vacation ends and real life begins again?"

Connor's fingers emerged from beneath Lila's skirt, glistening with her arousal. He brought them to his lips, tasting her while holding my gaze. It was the single most erotic thing I'd ever witnessed.

"I think we need to invent a new set of rules. Vacation Rules."

Lila's eyes widened, darting between us with growing excitement.

"Vacation Rules?"

"One week,"

Connor continued, voice dropping to a register that sent shivers down my spine.

"One week of hedonistic fun. No limits, no jealousy."

His eyes locked with mine, intense and unwavering.

"No worries about the future."

I swallowed hard, the fantasies crashing through my mind like tidal waves. One week to touch her. To taste her. To explore whatever this crackling energy between all three of us might become.

"And after?"

I managed, needing to know the boundaries before I stepped over this line.

"After, we go back to being best friends who have an amazing secret,"

Connor said, his hand returning to Lila's breast, kneading gently.

"You head back to Seattle, and we go back to Portland, and no one ever has to know.”

Lila watched me, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

"I'm willing if you are,"

she whispered, the breeze carrying her words directly to my core.

"I've thought about you, Nick. About your hands, your mouth..."

She trailed off, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck as her eyes dropped to my crotch.

“Your big dick,”

Connor filled in for her, his grin cheeky.

My restraint snapped like a thread pulled too tight. I leaned forward, closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips to her flushed cheek. The contact was electric, her skin warm and scented with salt air and coconut sunscreen. I lingered there, feeling her pulse leap beneath my lips, the subtle turn of her head inviting more.

"Say yes,"

Connor murmured, watching us with hooded eyes, his hand still working between Lila's thighs.

"Say yes to Vacation Rules."

I pulled back just enough to look at her—really look at her. Auburn hair wild in the coastal wind, lips parted with anticipation, eyes dark with wanting. Then at Connor, my oldest friend, the man who knew me better than anyone, offering this impossible gift.

"Yes,"

I breathed.

Lila's smile was radiant as she reached for my hand, guiding it slowly to her breast. The first touch was tentative, my palm hovering barely a millimeter from her skin, electricity arcing between us. Then contact—warm, soft flesh filling my hand, her nipple a hard point against my palm. I felt her heartbeat thundering beneath my fingers, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

"Breathe,"

I whispered, echoing what I'd told countless nervous partners before, though I was the one trembling now. My thumb traced the curve of her collarbone, barely believing this was real.

Connor watched, pupils blown wide with arousal, his hand still moving beneath her skirt.

"Fuck, that's hot,"

he murmured, leaning in to kiss his wife's neck.

"Knew it would be."

Lila arched between us, one hand clutching my wrist to keep me in place, the other reaching for Connor's thigh.

"More,"

she gasped, hips shifting restlessly against the blanket.

"Please. Both of you."

The world narrowed to this moment—my best friend, his wife, and me, tangled together on a sun-drenched beach, crossing lines we could never uncross. My free hand found her chin, tilting her face toward mine, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt.

Finding none, I leaned in until our lips were a breath apart.

"Vacation Rules,"

I confirmed, feeling her nod slightly, her exhale warm against my mouth.

"Vacation Rules,"

Connor agreed from behind her, his eyes meeting mine over her shoulder—permission, encouragement, and his own desire naked in his gaze.

I leaned an inch closer to Lila, tasting the mint on her breath. When our lips finally met, the last of my hesitation dissolved like salt in the ocean. One week of paradise. One week to explore every fantasy I'd buried for years. One week that might change everything.

A shout in the distance startled us apart, and we helped a blushing Lila back into her shirt. By the time the group of tourists walked past, we were innocently eating the sandwiches Connor had made. But both of us knew just how wet she was beneath her skirt.