Page 10 of Three Wickedly Bad Neighbors and a Very Grumpy Girl (Three Guys and a Girl Volume 2, #8)

? Chapter Ten

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A very

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I f I haven't said it enough times, I don’t have a freaking clue what I'm doing.

I grab Sullivan by his collar and capture his lips.

He lets me explore his mouth the same way Porter explored mine, except he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against the rock-hardness of his entire body, including his cock, which presses against me.

I can barely breathe. Still reeling from both Porter and Sullivan’s kisses, I throw myself at Gray and attack his mouth without shame.

How can they taste so good and be so addictive that I repeat the cycle, starting with Porter? This time, I can't bear the thought of not touching Sullivan and Gray as well. But then they set me aside, and my frustration grows.

“Avery, do you know what you’re doing?” Gray asks, seriousness lining his features.

“Yes,” I growl in annoyance.

“Do you only want us to kiss you?”

Again with the questions.

“No. I want you to kiss me, take off my dress, and touch me everywhere—with your hands, your mouths, your...”

“Our what, Avery?” Sullivan presses.

They’re going to make me say it. Out loud. I’ve never said the ‘p’ word to anyone in my life. Suddenly, I’m so embarrassed that the fire in my cheeks threatens to burn my entire body down.

“This,” I say, reaching out to the mind-bogglingly big, hard bulges straining against their jeans. Low, deep roars escape their mouths as I grind against Sullivan’s cock while pressing my hands against Gray and Porter’s hardness.

I have lost my mind. I will never be the same again. Ever.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sullivan groans, his huge hand threading through my hair to my nape, where he grabs a handful and pulls me back, staring into my eyes.

“You want us to touch you with our cocks?”

Well, I would have said the ‘p’ word if I were pressed, but oh my god, why does the ‘c’ word sound so ridiculously erotic and sexy and hot?

Who am I? What have I become? How am I doing something so out of character, so impulsive, without a fifty-six-step program to guide me through the process?

I don't know what’s going to happen next. My gosh. I don’t even know what’s happening right now, except that I need this.

“Yes, your cocks. Touch me with your cocks. Naked. Touch me everywhere with your cocks. Right now, please, before I... before I—”

I’ve never experienced this level of franticness before. My whole world has turned upside down, and I don’t want to set it straight just yet.

“I want to see your cocks. Cocks,” I whisper as I drop to my knees and immediately start to yank at their jeans, my hands moving between the three of them with lightning speed.

I make no progress because I’m trembling so much, but I sigh in relief when they help me unearth the thickness in their jeans and also remove their shirts at the same time.

“You like the word cocks , huh?” Gray says his tone teasing.

“I haven’t said that word before, not in the singular form, and certainly not in the plural form either.

I always said, ‘male appendage.’ Not that male appendages came up in any discussions I’ve had.

But not with you three. I want to say cocks .

I want to see your cocks. I’ve never seen any cocks before.

.. my god,” I breathe, nearly falling over when three gigantic male members look back at me.

They’re thick, long, and without touching the skin around each shaft, I know they’ll be velvety and deceptively soft, barely able to contain their hardness.

“Is that normal?” I reach out, tentatively, with both my hands. The electric spark that turns my body into lava at the mere sight of them increases a million times over as my fingers stroke down their length.

My explorations are rudely interrupted when all three take a collective step back, leaving my hands hanging midair. I scoot forward, but they move back again.

“Wait. You’ve never touched a cock before?” Porter asks.

“Never,” I say, still trying to close the gap between us.

“Avery, are you still a virgin?”

“Yes. Sex is not on my to-do list for the next three years.”

The atmosphere around me changes.

Oh my god.

Humiliation charges through me like a possessed hyena. Just because I wanted them does not mean they wanted me. I’m so embarrassed I want the floor to open up so I can crawl underground back to my house.

Also, this is such a weird feeling for me. I stopped being embarrassed when my parents came to a Bring Your Parents to School Day .

Mine, of course, arrived in a silly mood. When I say a silly mood, I mean they thought they were having breakfast brownies but apparently ate from the wrong container and consumed an ungodly amount of pot. They could have said they were clowns, and my class would have believed them.

I provided comic relief for nearly the entire school for the two years I attended, which is the amount of time I needed to cure myself of experiencing any kind of ignominy.

I feel sick with indignation now. I’m the last girl they’d ever want to touch.

The girls at their parties were their standard.

I may have been angry with them for making me feel these strange things, thinking all of those girls could do better.

But no. Gray, Sullivan, and Porter are the benchmark.

Men don’t come any more handsome than them.

Well, I had a lapse of integrity. I can forgive myself and move on. If I get to bed now, I’ll still have... I’ll have... I try to calculate how many hours of sleep I’ll get, but my brain is mush. So yes, leave before I do the unthinkable and start crying.