Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters (4 page)

I leaned against the side of the bed and tried not to seem terribly interested. Lily was more open than Emerson, that was for sure, but when it came to him, she could vault up with the best of ’em. “What happened?”

She tipped back her head and stared at the ceiling. “I kissed him.”

Only self-control kept me from doing a fist pump. “Huh. Wow. So how was it?”

“It wasn’t.” Another sigh. “I kissed his cheek because he won his fight. And I kind of moved too close to his mouth, and then I think he might’ve kissed me back, but I’m not even sure. So...drinking.” She held up her glass. “Speaking of, I think it’s time you hit me again.”

“You know, I didn’t bring you here to get you drunk.” Well, not exactly. I looped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

Her and me, we kissed all the time. Not on the mouth, of course, but cheeks, top of the head, the occasional forehead—all fair game.

“I’m not drunk, I don’t think. How can I tell?”

“Are you having trouble walking yet?”

She frowned down on her feet as I guided her out of the room and up the hall. “No. I’m a little fluttery though, in here.” She touched her stomach and her lips curved. “I like it.”

“Flutters are good.” I kissed her again, closer to her ear this time, and she grinned and cuddled into my side.

If we hadn’t happened to be walking into the living room at that moment—where Emerson was pacing a hole in the carpet I didn’t have—it would’ve been no big deal.

His death glare ended that possibility.

“Lily, I think we should go.”

“What? Why?” She stumbled a bit over her feet, proving herself a liar. Or else she was nervous. I could see why. Emerson had a rather intimidating stare when he turned it on.

Lucky me, I got to see it on the regular.

“This isn’t a party. I don’t know what it is. And you’re drinking, and your father—”

“My father isn’t here, so stop it. Christ, I’m twenty years old. Twenty-one this summer.” She slammed her glass on one of the steps of the ladder she’d stopped beside. “I have needs.”

I raised a brow. Yeah, maybe I wouldn’t have to pull out the rest of my bag of tricks. It looked like Ms. Matthews could drive that bus all by herself.

“Do tell.” I made a gimme gesture with my fingers. “This sounds good.”

“Shut up.” Emerson glanced at Lily and crossed his arms over his stupidly buff chest. The guy lived in the gym and it showed. Pity he didn’t like showing off his body as much as I did.

“Whatever your...needs are, we’ll discuss them when you’re sober. I can’t bring you home drunk. What will your dad say?”

“I’m not drunk. Jesus.” She grabbed her glass and walked over to the coffee table, the heels of her ankle boots clicking on the hardwood floor. She grabbed the bottle of Samuel Adams, then fumbled off the cap. “But I’m going to be, and you’re not gonna stop me. You’re my friend, Hands, not my damn babysitter.”

“Hey there, let me help you with that.” Smiling, I moved forward to pour her another glass before she dribbled the stuff all over the table. “One-fifty a bottle, babe.”

“No shit?” She took an eager sip after I handed the glass back to her. “No wonder it’s so good.”

“Yeah, well, fancy alcohol doesn’t get you any drunker than cheap shit.”

I tipped some more into my own glass. “Twenty-seven percent alcohol, remember? So I beg to differ.”

“Whatever. I have work tomorrow and this isn’t what I was expecting. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not in a fucking party mood.”

I kicked back on the couch opposite him and slowly spread my legs. The move hadn’t been intentional, but I didn’t miss the way he checked out my package before turning his glare back on Lily.

The bastard was probably harder than rock right now.

“So go. I’m perfectly capable of driving Lily home myself. Or she can spend the night.” I licked up a drop of beer that had splashed on my thumb. His gaze tracked the movement. “In my bed or the guest room. Her choice.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Lily

I forgot how to breathe.

He didn’t mean what it sounded like. I was almost sure.

But if he did...

I swayed against the arm of the couch across from him, putting out a hand to hold back Emerson when he would’ve stepped forward to throw down his cape. I wasn’t looking for chivalry tonight.

Maybe I wouldn’t have to go too far to find something else.

“Hold it right there.” I held out my hand and Emerson stopped in his tracks. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You almost fell over.”

“Yeah, I did. You know why?” I pushed my hair out of my face. I was getting hotter and hotter by the minute, and I didn’t think it was all to do with the alcohol. “I never thought I’d get a chance at something I’ve wanted for a long time, and I guess it’s fucking with my head a little.”

Emerson crossed his arms again, one of his most common stances lately. His brow was furrowed, his eyes dark blue and narrowed. I didn’t like making him worry, but sometimes I had to push back against his and my father’s iron control or it threatened to strangle me.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

I debated what to do next for about twenty seconds. Because the truth was, I wanted a couple of things with equal intensity.

Emerson.

JC.

Emerson and JC together, which scandalized the hell out of me even in my most secret fantasies, but there it was.

I took another bolstering gulp of my beer and set down my glass. Then I crossed to the couch where JC was sprawled and stared down at him, nerves and anticipation and excitement firing in my blood. Even if he’d meant I could sleep in his bed like a buddy, I didn’t care. Rejection would sting, but not knowing would hurt way more. I was going for it.

For once, I was fucking going for it.

Bracing a knee beside him on the cushion, I reached out to touch his hair. Soft and shaggy, it fell through my fingers like a mixture of silk and straw. Rough and silky both. Would his scruff feel like that too? Against my chin, my breasts.

Between my legs.

He didn’t move a muscle, just let me explore from his hair to his forehead to the little wrinkle above his nose. His was perfectly straight, unlike Em’s. I traced it with a fingertip and followed it down to his lips. So full and unsmiling, in spite of the warmth and invitation in his golden-brown eyes.

My thumb grazed his lower lip and he let out a ragged exhale. He shifted slightly on the couch, spreading his legs that much more, almost daring me to glance down to where his cock was straining against his jeans.

Just like that, my nerve faltered. This wasn’t a naïve church boy I was fumbling around with. This was a real, experienced man, one of my best friends. The other stood a few feet away, probably thinking I was on the verge of going straight-up sex maniac on him.

He might be right.

“Don’t stop now,” JC murmured, giving me all the permission I could ever need.

I dipped my head and brushed my lips against his, shocked that he was so hot. His skin was on fire. And God, his lips were soft. I pressed harder against him, just learning their shape and texture, wobbling a little on my bent knee as he reached up to tangle his hands in my hair. He pulled me down and slid his tongue into my mouth, not wasting a moment.

As tentative as I was, he was bold.

The kiss lasted a few seconds. His tongue slashed over mine, driving hard as if he knew we wouldn’t have long to sink in and get to know each other that way. I let him take the lead, shaky and stirred, surprised to feel the flicks of his tongue between my tightly clenched thighs. My clit was already joining the fray.

Too soon, it was over, our mouths separated for reasons I didn’t understand. I blinked up at Emerson, realizing his fingers pinched my shoulder in an unrelenting grip.

He’d pulled me away to sit beside JC, and now he was staring down at me, his features taut with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t identify. Anger and confusion, absolutely. Maybe even some hurt, which I’d have to puzzle out later.

But there was more. His blue eyes had gone flame-hot, and I didn’t think I was imagining the lust burning there. For me.

For us?

I couldn’t analyze it. Not when I felt like my internal thermostat had fried and my skin was too tight. I had to move, to keep this going.

I grabbed Emerson’s T-shirt, clenching the damp fabric. He was sweating. I was too. God, we were all going to die of heat stroke.

“Lily,” Emerson grated, and I didn’t know if he was warning me or begging me.

I didn’t fucking care.

I used a fistful of his shirt to drag his face down to mine. His eyes were so close. Too close, seeing me inside and out. And his mouth was right there, just a whisper away.

So I bit it.

He groaned and the sound swept through me like a fever. Eyes still wide open, I tugged his full lower lip between my teeth, going with instinct because experience sure as hell had never led me down this particular path. But I saw his pupils flare, the dark obscuring the blue, and his chest heaved under my hand as my teeth skimmed flesh.

Then his tongue was stroking into my mouth, and I could only take.

He kissed me hard, harder even than JC. The stirring between my legs grew, causing me to shift and press them together to try to quell the ache. I hadn’t worn tights under my dress, and the wetness on my inner thighs brought a flush to my cheeks.

A hand skimmed up my midsection, strong fingers traveling higher to cup one of my breasts. I didn’t react. I just let Emerson work his magic on my mouth while JC palmed my flesh, not clumsily pinching and plucking like what’s-his-name had. He let me get used to having his hand on my body before he started toying with my nipple. Lightly at first, then with growing pressure until I couldn’t stifle the whimper that slipped into Emerson’s mouth along with my eager tongue.

Wrong move.

As if he’d just realized what we were doing, Emerson dragged his lips from mine. “What the fuck, Lil?”

Then he glanced down and saw JC’s hand on my breast, saw me squirming and leaning toward my other best friend, and his jaw locked. “Goddammit,” he muttered, moving away from us. “Fucking goddammit.”

I started to straighten, to try to clear the haze from my mind. Not just from the beer but from the men. My men.

“Just wait,” JC said against my ear, adding a little nip that made me moan. Damn, I just couldn’t stay quiet.

Emerson whirled around. He looked at us sitting close together, JC’s hands roaming possessively and his mouth on my skin, and something inside him broke. Just shattered right in front of my eyes.

After stalking back to us, he kneeled in front of me, then cupped my face in his hands. His gentle touch belied the wildness in his expression. I’d never seen anything like it before. My heart bumped and then his mouth was slamming down on mine, our teeth clashing as he fought his way back inside. It didn’t seem to matter that I was granting him access. He needed to drive himself back in with a force that should’ve scared me.

All it did was make my want surge higher.

JC’s hand moved from my breast down to the hem of my dress. I thought maybe he’d developed an interest in my thighs, but no, he was tugging the dress up my legs, not stopping at my hips or my waist. I had to move back for him to hike it up my torso and over my head, and when I did, I expected Emerson’s conscience or inner Lance voice or whatever stick he got up his ass to make itself known once again.

Instead, he only gazed down at me in my scarlet-red lace panties and bra and licked his lips.

Licked his lips.

“Like what you see?” JC’s voice sounded in my ear, though he wasn’t talking to me. I knew very well who he was talking to.

Emerson didn’t answer, just watched as JC flicked open the clasp between the cups of my bra. My breath caught and shuddered out as the protective covering fell away, exposing me to both of their gazes.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

More, I couldn’t believe I’d waited so long to do this. To feel this.

“Lovely Lily. So perfect and soft.” JC’s mouth grazed my shoulder and my head fell back. “Let’s see about those parts of you that are hot and tight.”

His hand was already on the move, gliding downward over my trembling belly. The tips of his fingers grazed the lacy waistband of my panties and I shook so hard that I knew I was going to have my first partner-assisted orgasm before they even got me naked.

Emerson gripped my hips in his big hands, pulling me to the very edge of the cushion. My thighs quaked as Emerson peeled my panties down, going so slow that every movement shivered through my body. The air skimmed my bare pussy as he revealed it, inch by inch.

His groan was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard, until JC’s echoed in my ear.

Two gorgeous, strong, amazing men, brought low by the sight of me. Me, inexperienced, average Lily Matthews.

I could die happy right now.

“You’re perfect.” Emerson’s words rasped against my inner thigh. He bent closer as he tugged the lace down my legs, stopping when the material twisted above my knees. I wasn’t about to move and disrupt the sexual kung fu going on right this second, hell no.

I might never move from this spot ever again.

He darted his tongue out for a taste of my skin, and I wondered why until he made that same hungry sound and I remembered.

I’d already drenched my thighs.

“You’re soaked,” he breathed. “You really do want this.”

“So much.” My voice shook even more than the rest of me. “I have for so long.”

“Hear that, Knapp?” JC gathered my hair in his hand and used it to tug my head back so he could lay his scalding-hot lips on the side of my neck. “Your innocent little Lily...isn’t. Or she doesn’t want to be, and I think we should help her out with that.” He reached up to clasp one of my breasts with his free hand, and this time he did pinch and pluck at my nipple. But it wasn’t clumsy, and the gesture sent warmth pooling between my legs.

Any more and I’d be damaging JC’s brand new couch.

Emerson watched him touch me, his eyes hooded. Like they might be when he was hovering above me in bed, his hips just above mine, his cock right frigging there—