My pulse races. Does she feel more comfortable with him seeing her tits than me? Maybe because he’s already seen her naked while they were kissing. Yeah, maybe?
I shrug the thought off as I reach up. Pulling the string that opens the sack, a stream of water pours down on us.
Water is warm for point-five seconds, quickly chilling as soon as it hits my skin.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Sulli curses and bounces on her feet. “It’s cold.” Her breath smokes the air.
“Let’s get this over with quick,” Banks says into a cringe.
After passing around a bar of soap and rinsing, we last less than a minute under the water before we’re darting out from the shower and into the tent.
No time to build a fire.
Sulli dives underneath a sleeping bag. Not crawling under, she uses the fabric more like a blanket. Her body trembles harder from the cold. Teeth chattering. Banks zips up the tent while I switch on a lantern dangling in the center of the tent, and I crawl to the right of her. I’m shivering, but not full-body shakes like Sulli here.
She groans out. “Why is it so fucking frigid?”
Banks lies down to the left of her. “Because mermaids don’t swim in ice.”
“That…we know…of,” she chatters, then blows out a breath. “I just want…to get…fucking…warm.”
“How are your popsicle nipples?” I ask her as I slide underneath my sleeping bag. Our legs skate near each other, and I can feel her goosebumps and prickle of hair.
“Probably harder than your popsicle dick.” Her green, green eyes descend to my crotch.
Shit.
Blood pumps through my body, muscles flexing, and I start to warm.
Banks fixes the snagged chain of his dog tags and tells me, “Sounds like a bet.” He has to know I’m seconds from sliding my hand over her tits, so I’m surprised he’s playing into this.
I don’t want any of it to end. “Definitely does,” I agree.
Sulli turns her head to Banks. “My nipples are way harder than your dick too.”
He eyes her chest, covered by a sleeping bag, and she eyes his crotch like she did mine.
For some reason, I don’t mind that she’s including him. I prefer it, even. Why? How? Maybe because in the quiet seconds between our easy banter, we’re just three people laid vulnerable and bare. Dirt washed off, cut open, and even as exhaustion pulls us, we choose to stay awake and bathe in the comfort of our companionship.
“And if they’re not harder?” Banks asks. “What do we get?”
Sulli shifts, her heat beginning to radiate towards me, and most likely him too. While she’s lying on her back, we’re lying on our sides. Facing her.
She keeps having to turn her head from side-to-side to look between us. “What do you want?” she asks.
Banks meets my gaze. “What do you want, Akara?”
Her.
But I don’t want to have sex with her from a bet. It’s not going to mean anything. “Bragging rights,” I say. “What do you want, Banks?”
“Bragging rights sound good to me.” He looks down at her. “And you, mermaid? What do you want if you win?”
“Bragging rights. Always.”
Banks takes one edge of her sleeping bag, and I take the other. We pull it down, exposing her bare breasts. She intakes a shuddered breath at the cold, and her pink nipples are perked.
This isn’t like the shower.
We’re not just friends here.
A tangible pulse beats in the air. Hums between the three of us. We’re less thoughts than we are feelings. All instinct and gut—and right now it’s telling me to keep going. To not let this night end, despite the lines we cross. The boundaries that blur.
It doesn’t much matter.
We neared death. We’re alive.
Isn’t that enough? What else really matters but us? Right here. Right now.
25
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
I’m still shivering, but I can’t decipher whether it’s the cold anymore or their eyes on my naked chest. They take a long time just staring, and my breathing deepens as I look between their heady gazes.
My body squirms with overwhelming desires and needs.
And then they both touch me at the same time. Akara’s thumb glides over my right nipple, while Banks’ presses down on my left. Oh fuck, the pressure and sensitivity feels amazing. A breath catches in my throat, my limbs vibrating with pleasure and something deeper that I can’t pinpoint. The something deeper that I feel—I sink into, like soft feathers nestled and cuddled around me.
Don’t forget the bet.
Don’t forget the bet!
I hear the loud chant in the competitive part of my brain. Right. I have a fucking job to do.
Reaching out a hand to Banks and Akara, I fumble against their bare thighs without looking. Trying to find their dicks.
Banks is first to help me. He takes my hand and places my palm on top of his boxer-briefs. My fingers curl around his rock-hard shaft. Fuck, he’s much harder than my nipples.
Akara clasps my right hand and slides my palm up to his thigh, then his crotch. His bulge is beyond firm. I stroke him twice, and his muscles contract.
What would they feel like inside of me? Is it so different from a toy? Just imagining them so close, my pussy throbs. I shouldn’t picture both, should I?
One day soon, I’m going to give out a final rose to only one man, and it’s not fair to the guy I pick or the one I let go to be attached to both. But with what happened tonight—feeling like I lost Banks and Akara—I just want to hold onto each of them.
So maybe I’m fucking selfish. Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing and this’ll come back to bite me later on, but tonight, this feels like the best, most right thing I could ever do.
None of us stop.
I run my fingers along their lengths, feeling the fabric molding them.
Their breath comes heavier.
Akara’s thumb still circles my nipple like Banks’. Softly, Akara whispers, “You’re still shaking, Sulli.”
“I’m still cold.” I take a breath. “And now other things too.”
Banks strokes my hair out of my face. “What kind of things?” he asks, taking his hand off my boob the same time as Akara. Like they’re planning this. Coordinating and in sync. Too many times, I’ve caught them speaking to each other through their eyes.
Bodyguard talk. Most in security have the speak-through-eyes talent, but I think the closer they are as friends, the easier it is and the more I see them do it.
Without their touch and with the air hitting my exposed skin, I shiver more. What kind of things? “You do know virgins can get horny, right? I’m not immune to nipple flicking. That kind of thing.”
My hands rest casually on their packages, and I feel their dicks twitch at my words. I can’t help but smile. Wind pounds at the tent, and a chill snakes through me along with the gathering heat between us.
“So you’re horny,” Banks says huskily.
My pulse drops to my pussy as if complying with his words. His eyes set on me in a way that steals my breath. He’s older. More experienced. I’m sure he’s aroused plenty of women. I’m not his first, even if he might be mine.