Triple Team: A Military Reverse Harem Romance, page 32
“Well?” I asked. “How much did they offer?”
“I never found out—I walked away!” the girl said.
“Should have at least gotten a number,” Bryce said, nodding in agreement with me. “Everyone has a price.”
“Not me!” the girl said.
Bryce arched an eyebrow. “Oh? What about a million dollars, Indecent Proposal style?”
“I would do some disgusting stuff for a million bucks,” I said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Bryce said, taking another sip of the bottle. “For a million dollars I’d sleep with just about anyone, man or woman.”
“Shit,” another guy said, “my number would probably be more like half a mil.”
We went back and forth about what our lowest number would be to sleep with someone completely hideous. One of the waitresses, a blonde woman in her 30s, said she would do it for $1,000. “What? Ugly people need fucking too!” she said to a chorus of laughter.
It was all playful banter. Prostitution was one of those things that happened at every casino in Las Vegas, but it was always discreet. Women sitting by themselves at the bar in a red dress, waiting for someone to come up and buy them a drink. A casino waitress even joking about it with a customer was liable to get caught on the security cameras and fired on the spot.
People came and went, but eventually the number of us dwindled. Soon it was just me and Bryce in the pantry. I picked up the bottle and poured the last few drops into my open mouth.
“Empty bottle, sad,” I said with a pout.
“All good things,” Bryce said. He leaned back on his elbows and fixed me with a curious stare. “How about you let me buy you a proper drink. In a different casino, of course. Or even an honest-to-God bar, if we’re feeling fancy.”
“I don’t accept drinks from men,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because that makes it a date,” I said. “And I don’t date.”
He stared at me, trying to puzzle out if I was serious. “You don’t date.”
“Nope.”
I expected him to bombard me with more questions, but he didn’t push it. “Then how about we go somewhere and buy our own drinks. Maybe sit adjacent to one another. Share friendly conversation.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a date,” I pointed out.
“Then what was this?” he said, using the empty bottle to gesture around the pantry.
“This was just a bunch of Volga employees unwinding after work.”
He stabbed the air with the bottle. “That sounds great! Two Volga employees unwinding after work. Let’s go do that. At a place with food.”
“Two people getting food and drinks together,” I mused. “Yep, sounds suspiciously like a date.”
His voice softened. “It doesn’t need to be anything else. It can just be drinks.” He put his hand over his heart. “Swear to God.”
Christ, he was handsome. And too charming by half. I could handle my liquor more than most girls but I was the right kind of tipsy to want to climb on top of him and see what his lips tasted like right here in the pantry.
And he just kept smiling at me. A completely disarming smile without being too pushy.
“Alright, let’s go get something to eat,” I said. “But nothing more.”
“Nothing more,” he agreed.
Sage
We were making out by the time we reached his apartment door.
I can’t explain what happened. We got in his car in the employee lot, started discussing where to go, and then suddenly at a red light we were kissing like long-lost lovers.
Thankfully his apartment was only a few blocks away, with quick make-out sessions at every red light along the way. Somehow he got the key into his door and we fell inside, our lips staying locked onto each other the entire time. Bryce scraped his hands along the wall for the light switch but missed it, and then I was tangling him up on the way to the couch.
His leg slipped and he fell with me on top of him, hitting the carpet with a loud grunt. “Are you okay?” I asked, my body on top of his.
“I’m okay,” he said, face close to mine. “I’m really, really okay.”
With my body on top of his, so was I. His short-cropped blond hair was smooth and soft, and he had a perfectly trimmed thin beard along his jaw and around his mouth. Even in the semi-darkness of his apartment his eyes were piercing, with wonderful diagonal eyebrows that accentuated his attentive, curious look.
He grabbed me by the arms and threw me sideways so he could roll on top of me. He maneuvered his way smoothly between my legs, my cocktail dress hiking up as I spread my legs for him, savoring the way his weight felt pressed down on me. He kissed me hard with need, and I melted into the carpet underneath his gorgeous body.
Is this really happening?
I pawed at his back to get his shirt off until he got the idea. He pushed up to his knees and pulled his work shirt over his head, revealing a white tank-top undershirt that was practically glued onto his muscular frame. He pulled that off too and I ran my hands over his defined chest, down his pecs and across the sand dunes of his abs.
“I want to taste you,” he said, pulling back and then lowering his mouth to my belly. My panties slid over my skin and he forced my legs apart with his strength, hiking my ass up for him.
This is really happening.
I squirmed on the carpet as he teasingly moved down my navel, nose scratching into my landing strip. His hot breath on my skin was pure ecstasy as his hands caressed my thighs and then he buried himself in me, planting a wet kiss on my wet lower lips.
“Ohh,” I shuddered with sensitivity and pleasure and excitement.
I gazed down at the beautiful sight: this blond supermodel of a man spreading my legs wide while his head moved between my legs, eating me out. He took my outer lips in his mouth and sucked on them gently, then did the same with my clitoris. Then his tongue was swirling, up and down and all around, touching every nerve ending I had.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, yes…”
His tongue went rigid and he fucked me with it, shoving my lips apart and pressing as deep as he could inside my pussy. Back and forth he moved like that, a steady fucking with his long tongue, and I wanted to press my hips into his face but his grip on my legs wouldn’t let me move.
I was his to be pleasured however he saw fit.
I melted into the carpet while my pleasure rose with his steady strokes. Soon he was adding a tongue flick to the end of his thrust, licking deep within my inner walls. All the while his nose rubbed against my clit, the tiniest amount of friction each time he buried his tongue inside my pussy. It drove me insane. The good kind of insane. The kind that wipes away all other thought until the world narrows to this man’s gorgeous face and what it was doing to me.
Abruptly he switched his focus to my clit, long tongue strokes up and down the surface and then increasing speed until they were rapid little flutters, like a drumroll of pleasure on my special little bean. My breathing became shallow and his grip on my legs tightened as if he was afraid I would run away.
I came suddenly and without warning; the pleasure grabbed me like a giant fist and threw me into the air, weightless and screaming as everything swirled and glowed and pulsed.
When I opened my eyes Bryce was looking up at me, grinning with satisfaction.
“I love how you taste,” he said, giving my thigh a soft kiss. He was laying across my legs, propped up on one elbow, and his rock hard cock was warm against my calf.
It wasn’t fair that I had all the fun.
I ran my fingers along his arm. “How do you want me?” I asked in a breathless voice.
His smile was hungry. “How do you want me?”
I felt a tingle of naughtiness run up my spine. I was so comfortable with Bryce even though we’d only just met. I could be vulnerable with him. I wanted to do things with him.
Pulling myself off the carpet, I stretched my back to show off my body for him. He rested back on his elbows to savor my profile, eyes sparkling in the dim light. Then I went to the couch, widened my stance, and bent over as slowly as I could.
I gave my ass a little shake. “This is how I want you.”
He stood smoothly, approaching like a cat. I shivered with excitement as I felt his thighs press against mine, his hard manhood sliding in between my legs and along the underside of my belly. He gripped my hips and pushed into me, a phantom thrust which pressed his body against my ass.
“God, you’re sexy,” he said.
“Don’t just tell me,” I said. “Show me.”
He pulled back and spread my ass wide, then used his hips to guide his manhood into my lips. There was no need for teasing things out now: he slid all the way in, the wonderful circumference of his shaft filling me completely.
I pushed back against him, eager to feel every single grain of him. Eager for him to feel me. The moan he let out was like pure, concentrated elation.
“I’ll say it again,” he purred as he fucked me in slow, steady strokes. “You’re sexy.”
I looked back at him. A beautiful V-shaped torso and arms corded with muscle. “You’re not so bad yourself. I like how you look back there.”
“I like how you look from back here,” he groaned, fingers digging into my hips.
He was going slow. Trying to hold himself back, either because he thought that’s how I wanted it or because he didn’t think he would last long if he went faster. Whatever the reason, I bent my knees and pushed back against him, meeting his stroke halfway. Rocking back and forth in a vertical dance of love.
His grip tightened. “Good lord, Sage. The way you feel…”
I liked hearing his voice. “Yeah?”
He leaned back his head and moaned to the ceiling. Yeah, he wasn’t going to last very long.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, pushing faster. “Fuck me faster.”
“Sage…”
“Fuck me!”
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Cassie Cole is a Reverse Harem Romance writer living in Norfolk, Virginia. A polygamist/polyamorist at heart, she thinks Romance is best when served in threes, fours, and fives!
Books by Cassie Cole
Broken In
Drilled
Five Alarm Christmas
All In
Triple Team
Shared by her Bodyguards
Saved by the SEALs
Cassie Cole, Triple Team: A Military Reverse Harem Romance
