Page 59 of Pucking Around

“HEY!”

We all stiffen, heads twisting to look down the stairs.

“Up or down, lovebirds,” barks the bouncer. He’s standing at the bottom, guarding the velvet rope keeping the stairs private.

Oh god, it wouldn’t have taken much for someone to stand at that rope and look up. Then they would have seen us. At least it’s dark. But phone cameras have flashes. Jake is already in protector mode, moving down a step to block me from the bouncer’s view.

“Fuck,” Caleb mutters.

Jake grabs my hand. “Come on.”

He leads me down behind him, the fingers of my other hand entwined with Caleb’s. We slip past the bouncer and hit the dance floor. The bass of the music hammers through me, rattling my bones as the strobe lights go off. Blasts of pink, blue, and green blind me.

The boys box me in, sticking tight to my front and back, as Jake leads the way across the floor. His size means I can hide myself close at his back and move through the crowd, keeping my head down. If anyone snaps a picture now, they’ll just get the curtain of my dark hair.

Jake pulls us down a dark hallway that leads to the bathrooms. Several women mill along the wall, waiting to get inside. I turn my face away from them, stumbling in the dark in my heels. He grabs the handle of a door marked ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ and jerks it open, swinging the door inward to reveal a crowded storage room—stacked chairs, a shelf of cleaning supplies, cases of beer and liquor piled in tipsy towers to the ceiling.

“In,” he growls.

I’ve barely stepped in before I reach the shelf and turn around, just as he closes the door. The effect is instant, dulling the music to a muted roar rather than a full sensory assault. He leans against it, turning the lock with a click. Caleb stands between us, his dark eyes molten with hunger.

“What is this?” says Jake.

“I don’t know,” I admit, heart still racing from the thrill of being in their arms. God, these men just have to breathein my general direction, and apparently that’s enough to make me forget everything. Our positions. Our signed contracts. My career aspirations. Their reputations.

Someone could have snapped a picture of Jake and I dancing earlier. Sure, we can shrug that off. Poppy will spin it easy. Two colleagues cutting loose, having fun, celebrating a win. But the three of us tongue-fucking in a stairwell?

“Rachel…what do you want to have happen here?” Jake presses. “Do you want me?”

His words cut through the swirling torrent of my thoughts. Every part of me softens at the look in his eyes. Oh, my sweet Mystery Boy, always doubting himself. “Jake,yes,” I say, crossing over to him. I cup his face, tipping up on my toes to kiss him once, twice. “I want you,” I murmur against his lips. “I want you. YouknowI do.”

He holds me by the elbows. “But you want him too…don’t you?” He doesn’t sound angry or hurt. He just needs to know.

Oh god, is this possible? Have they done this before? Jake didn’t strike me as the sharing type. Caleb is the wild card, always so difficult to read. He stands there in his all-black, those dark eyes burning like coals as he waits for me to decide his fate. What we have is new and certainly much different from my connection with Jake.

I turn in Jake’s arms, leveling my gaze at his best friend. This is the kind of moment where the best approach is the most direct. Heart in my throat, I part my lips and say those four little words. “Do you want me?”

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Caleb holds my gaze, not looking at his best friend. “Yes.”

Jake’s hands brush down my sides and around to frame my hips. He tucks me in against him and leans down, kissing my shoulder. “Tell us what you want, baby. What happens next?”

My eyes are still on Caleb. He’s watching us together, watching Jake’s hands roam. His hunger is making me desperate. A glimmer of awareness prickles in the back of my mind. “I want you both,” I admit. “I want you at the same time.”

“You know I’m clean,” Jake says, his hand slipping inside the stretchy fabric of my halter top to cup my breast. He weighs it in his hand, kissing my neck and flicking my nipple until I’m arching against him. He pauses, his hand on my tit, and looks over my shoulder at his best friend. “Cay? You clean?”

Caleb gives us a curt nod.

“You broken over there?” Jake teases.

Caleb shakes his head. “No.”

Jake huffs a laugh. “Well, I’m not leaving this room until she comes. So, get over here and help me, or get out.” As if to prove his willingness to share, he tugs on the fabric of my halter top, stretching it wide enough to expose my bare tits to his best friend.

“Shit,” Caleb mutters. He crosses the few feet of space separating us and smashes his mouth against mine, pressing me against Jake, who is already up against the door.

I sigh into Caleb’s kiss, arching my back into the cup of his hands on my breasts.