Page 14 of Three Wickedly Bad Neighbors and a Very Grumpy Girl (Three Guys and a Girl Volume 2, #8)

? Chapter Fourteen

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A very

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A million memories bombard my sleepy brain all at once. I'm consumed by naked skin and the dizzying scent of male cologne. Muscles. Power. Sexiness.

Yes, I finally understand what sexiness really means. And cock. Oh my god. So much cock. Everywhere on me, inside me. So many times, too. They took me to different realms where unimaginable pleasure was tinged with just a streak of delicious pain.

Oh my god. I gave them my virginity.

We had sex. There's no part of me that's still a virgin now. But then a dark cloud opens up over me.

Wait, what day is it? I can’t even remember the year, let alone the month. Until I do.

I shoot up from the bed. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

I didn’t think I could move that fast, but I scramble off the bed, amidst a series of male bodies. Naked male bodies. For a split second, my eyes have a mind of their own and linger on the ripped, muscle-bound, godlike specimens.

A steamy hot flush coats my body, and a very familiar dewy sensation grows between my legs. What in the hell? I can’t be standing here getting turned on again. I grab a watch, which I know is Porter’s, from the bedside table and shriek.

“Come back to bed, Avery,” they murmur sleepily. What? No. Getting into bed with them got me into this problem in the first place.

Oh god. What have I done?

I slip into my coat, gather my dress, panties, bra, and shoes, and race out of their house and into mine.

I have fifteen minutes to shower and dress so I can get to Obsidia Tech in time, provided there’s no traffic. This was not how I imagined my first day.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I pass through to my bathroom.

I’m literally glowing. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes glossy, my lips swollen, and I have a sheepish expression on my face, like I can’t put words together that make sense.

I open my mouth to say my name, and my voice is husky.

Okay, coffee will sort that out, hopefully.

I run my shower and remove my coat. No, no, no.

The mirror in the bathroom reveals an array of hickeys decorating my neck down to my breasts.

Their mouths were on me for them to leave hickeys on my skin.

The thought turns my cheeks even hotter.

Really? I’m getting all hot and flustered over their mouths being on my neck and breasts when those same mouths were also between my legs. On my pussy. In my pussy.

I can’t think about that now. In my defense, it’s their fault.

They contributed to my lack of sleep, which exacerbated my stress over my new job, which made me act out of character to the point where I begged them to fill me up.

Everywhere. Even where they should have been forbidden to see with their eyes or touch with their fingers.

But no, I asked them to put their cocks in there too.

“Stop,” I shout. Focus.

I’ll have to modify my outfit, which sucks considering I spent so much money on a power business suit that was supposed to clinch my first day at the office. I’ll deal with that after I shower. Time is moving at warp speed.

It’s not helping my panic in any way, which is making me clumsy.

I would just die if I turned up late on my very first day for such a high-powered position.

They’d have every reason to fire me for my tardiness, and I wouldn’t fight back.

I’ve never in my life been late for anything.

Early, yes, sometimes by an hour, but late? Never.

Of course, everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

I stub my toe, spill my coffee, and drop my bottle of perfume.

My hair refuses to cooperate, and okay fine, maybe I’m being unreasonable, but I want it to look like it would have had I spent thirty minutes on it instead of the two minutes I allocated.

Ugh.

I opt for a bun, but I can’t find my pomade to tame it down, and it’s getting too late, so I have to leave right now.

I don’t even have time for a full face of makeup. I’m going to look like a homeless person.

“Great first impression there, Stephens,” I say out loud.

Hopefully, I’ll be so good at my job that Mr. Anderson, the CEO of Obsidia Tech, my actual billionaire boss, will forgive my less-than-put-together appearance.

Unless I tell him why I look like this. Oh, by the way, I had sex—my first time—with the three guys next door, and they taught me everything I ever needed to know about the deed, so there’s no reason for me to have it again.

My heart does a strange flutter. What? Do I want to have more sex? No. I want to have more sex with them . Oh no, no, no. They probably forgot my name already. I have pride; I’ll use it to help me forget about them. Why does that leave me with a lump in my throat? I’m focusing on the wrong things.

I answer my hands-free phone with record speed when it rings. I’m so grateful it’s Veronica on the other side. I need a massive distraction.

“Hey, girl. Wait, are you still driving? From home?” Veronica’s cheerful voice fills my car. I take a deep breath and put a smile on my face.

“Hi, and yes.”

“What? What happened? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Yes, something did. You would have camped outside the building for your first day at your new job. Where’s Avery? What have you done with her?”

I laugh, except it’s a little nervous, and Veronica picks up on it.

“You know you’ve got this, right?”

“I know I do.” I want to tell her everything, but I need to prioritize things in my head first.

“Yes, you do. Okay, knock ‘em dead, girl. And I’ll see you tonight for our celebratory dinner. Woohoo. Love you lots.”

“Love you too,” I say and disconnect.

The lump in my throat gets bigger. On top of that, traffic is so unkind to me that I want to cry. And then I do. I cry like a baby.