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  He laughed, and then groaned. "You're ruining me, Tate."

  "Ruining you how?"

  "Nothing will ever compare to the way you're making me feel right now."

  "Until we finally fuck each other, you mean?"

  His gaze was hot and intense, his brown eyes fierce. "Somehow, honey, I feel like when we finally fuck, it's going to be a hell of a lot more than fucking."

  "I think so, too."

  "I know so." He hissed, and his hips began pumping harder as he lost the fight. "Kissing, going down on each other, all this? It's not just foreplay, or messing around. It's...more."

  I felt his words in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my heart, in the depths of my soul. It wasn't that they were elegant or eloquent words, obviously not--it was that he meant it, and that I felt the same way, in a way I'd never felt with anyone before.

  "A lot more," I said.

  "You ready for this, Tate?" he asked, his eyes cutting away from mine to his cock. "'Cause it's happening, any second now."

  "I'm ready," I said, putting both hands around him now, and pumping his length in a slow, steady rhythm. "Give it to me, Cor."

  He twitched the edges of the blanket aside, groaning. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Here you go, Tate. All for you."

  "You're coming?" I asked. "Right now?"

  He was groaning, grinding into my hands. "Oh fuck, right now, right now!"

  I met his eyes, and I saw the moment he finally let himself go, when he could finally hold back no longer. His mouth fell open and a breathed curse--"FUCK!"--fell from his lips with a heavy sigh, and he thrust into my hands once more.

  It wasn't a conscious decision. I didn't think it out, didn't plan it, didn't even know it was on the table as an option--

  I sank down, hunching forward, both of my hands clutching his cock, stroking hard, jerking swiftly in short, sharp movements around the base.

  My lips closed around him, taking that beautiful plump pink crown into my mouth.

  "Fuck...Tate!" This was a raspy gasp of utter shock, and intense, overwhelmed bliss.

  God, he tasted good, felt good, and was so perfect. So amazing. God, this wasn't real, was it? I got to do this? I got to taste this incredible man's cock? So fucking good. He held utterly still as I sucked the cum out of him, swallowing for all I was worth as he came and came and came, coming so much it went beyond my ability to keep up, and I had to break the suction and open my mouth to gag and gasp and swallow a breath of air, but he was still coming, and it shot onto my tongue in a thick tangy salty hot pool. I buried him in my mouth, stroking just beneath my mouth with both hands, not taking more than an inch or two of him, to just beneath the ridge of his circumcision.

  "Mmmmmmm..." My moan was involuntary, tasting him, feeling him in my mouth, the insane eroticism of this.

  "Tate, oh my fucking god...Tate!"

  I finally straightened, his cock slipping out of my mouth with an audible pop.

  "Holy shit," I murmured, staring down at his still-hard cock, now wet with my saliva and leaking cum over my hands as I milked the last of his orgasm out of him.

  He laughed, a sound of something like disbelief. "Holy hell, Tate. How do you do this to me?"

  "Do what?"

  "Make me feel like...like there's never ever been anything even remotely close to the way you touch me."

  "Because there hasn't?" I suggested, hopeful.

  He laughed again. "That, baby, is the damn truth."

  I was very, very pleased with myself. I lifted my hand and stared at it, admiring the lacework pattern of his cum on my skin, the viscous white liquid dripping and dribbling. A glance at Corin told me he was still recovering, breathing hard, his eyes narrowed to slits, watching me.

  "Tate?"

  I grinned at him. "Yeah?"

  "Hope you don't mind me saying this, but...you're like a cat that caught a mouse, and is very pleased with herself."

  I giggled. "That's pretty much it." I showed him my hand. "I was also just admiring how pretty your cum looks on my skin."

  His gaze was hot and full of erotic promise. "There's more where that came from," he said. "I can paint your skin with my cum, if you like the way that looks."

  I twisted my hand so the lower edge of my palm was facing up, and licked a droplet away that had been about to drip off my hand. "I have a feeling I'll be taking you up on that offer, Corin."

  "Yeah?"

  I laughed, a low chuckle of arousal. "Oh yeah. And soon." I reached for the napkins and began cleaning my hand, and then his stomach where a few droplets had pooled. "But not before I feel you inside me."

  He growled as I cleaned him. "Tate, baby, I gotta admit that as much as all this build-up has been incredible, I'm getting to the point that I don't care where we are or who's around us. I fucking need you."

  "I'm going crazy," I admitted. "I need it so bad."

  He was clean, now, and he reached for me, tugging me down so I was lying on the bench, my head pressed against the far door, and Cor knelt between my knees, palming my ass to lift me up. I wrapped my legs around his neck, letting my thighs splay apart, inviting him.

  "You need it, huh?" He didn't waste any time with teasing, instead going right for slow, eager, firm swipes of his tongue against me, the cold metal of his tongue ring driving me crazy. "What do you need, baby? Tell me."

  I gave myself over to it. "You, Cor. I need you. All this build up is making me crazy. I love sucking your cock and I love jerking you off, and I love feeling your fingers inside me and I really love the way you eat me out. But fucking hell, I've never been so desperate for actual sex in my life."

  He didn't have to tell me, this time--my hands went to my tits automatically, and I played with my nipples until I was thrashing in anticipation, and he was devouring me wildly, pushing me to the edge faster than I've ever gotten there and pushing me over, tongue thrashing me into orgasm so fast I didn't have time to prepare. I just came apart, helpless to stop the scream that emerged.

  He milked it out of me, tonguing me to a second climax hard on the heels of the first, and then I couldn't anymore, not without breaking our agreement and straddling him right here in the truck, fucking us both to another orgasm.

  He seemed to sense I couldn't take any more, and let me back down. "Do you have any clue how hot that is, watching you come?" he asked.

  "No," I answered, whimpering through aftershocks, out of breath. "I've never...never watched myself come."

  "Maybe you'll let me record you coming, sometime, so you can see."

  I found his eyes. "Maybe I will."

  He helped me sit up, and cradled me against his side, and sat together in the truck, gray dawn haze beyond the windows, the air cold beyond the blanket wrapped around us.

  After a few minutes, Corin let out a sigh. "So. Coffee?"

  I threw open the truck door in answer. "Fuck, yes. Coffee is the only thing that could be as good as the orgasms you just gave me, and those were pretty incredible."

  He laughed as we went back up the steps to the cabin. "I love that you can come more than once, and so fast."

  "It's mostly you," I said. "You're kind of a sex god."

  He chuckled. "I don't know about that. You're incredibly sensitive and crazy responsive."

  "Yeah, but you're still a sex god."

  He wrapped me in his arms and pressed me up against the door, kissing me until I moaned. "Then you're a sex goddess."

  "I'll take that title." I wiped my mouth, laughing. "You taste like pussy."

  "Better than morning breath?" he joked, leading the way into the cabin.

  We kept the blanket wrapped around us, closing the door behind us.

  Corin stifled a sound, and I followed his gaze.

  Canaan was on his back in the bed, but Aerie was nowhere to be found...except for the bump under the blanket, which was moving. Rhythmically. Up and down. Quickly.

  Right as we closed the door, Canaan shouted, gasping, spine arching off the bed. "Holy shit, ho
ly shit, holy shit!" he yelled. And then he saw us. "Holy shit! Hi...um...hi guys," he gasped.

  The blankets kept moving, and he grunted, and then finally the bump traveled up toward the head of the bed, and Aerie's face emerged from underneath the blankets, her hair an explosive mess of blonde tangles around her face.

  She blinked at us, wiped her lips with the back of her wrist, and then flopped down onto the pillow. "You two have the worst timing," she complained. "Who's making coffee?"

  "Um." I glanced at my sister, and then Canaan, and then at Corin. "Us, I guess."

  "Both of you?" Canaan asked, eyebrow quirked.

  "Sure," Corin answered, leading us toward the sink.

  I was feeling flushed from the orgasm, giddy, and on top of the world, if a little weirded out about catching the end of Aerie going down on Canaan. Corin was rinsing the pot and filter basket out, and I was rummaging in the cabinets for filters, and somehow, without bumping into each other or fumbling, we managed to make coffee together, our movements in complete synch.

  When the coffeemaker was gurgling, we turned around to find Canaan and Aerie sitting up in the bed, side by side with their backs to the wall, feet sticking out the end of the bed, both of them watching us. Aerie had the sheet tugged up around her chest, and Canaan had it covering his waist.

  Corin and I just stood in the middle of the room for a minute and then, with a glance at each other, we moved together to sit on the bed next to Canaan and Aerie, keeping the blanket wrapped around us.

  "So, about last night," Canaan started.

  "NOPE," Aerie and I said in unison.

  "Not 'til after coffee," I added.

  And so we four sat in silence, watching the aged black Mr. Coffee machine slowly gurgle and glug as it filled the pot. When it was finally done, Canaan laughed.

  "So...the coffee is done," he said.

  "Well, duh. Thanks for that brilliant observation, Captain Obvious," Corin mocked.

  Canaan reached past Aerie and me to whack Corin, only his forearm gave my tits a sturdy whack too.

  "Hey, watch it!" I said, clutching the girls.

  "Sorry," Canaan said. "My point, however, was that the coffee is over there, and we're over here."

  "And not a one of us has a single stitch of clothing on," Aerie added.

  "And there aren't enough blankets and sheets to cover all of us at once," Corin said.

  I sighed. "Yeah, well...after last night, is there a point to modesty?"

  "I thought we weren't going there 'til after coffee?" Canaan asked.

  "We're not," I answered. "I'm just pointing out that after strip poker and skinny dipping together, it's kind of stupid for us to suddenly be all like 'no, don't look at my privates!'"

  Corin laughed. "She's got a point."

  Aerie sighed. "Yeah, I guess that's true." She glanced at me, and then at Corin beyond me, and then at Canaan beside her. "So...we're just gonna get up, stay naked, and get our own coffee?"

  "Yep," the other three of us said, in unison.

  Aerie frowned. "Um, first, though--neither of you boys have an erection, right?"

  "Not anymore," Canaan and Corin said, again in synch. And then they reached out and tapped knuckles, laughing.

  Aerie and I just exchanged eye rolls.

  "Okay, so who's going first?" Canaan asked, after a long pause.

  I huffed. "Oh my god. This is dumb."

  I tossed the quilt off and tried not to feel self-conscious about myself as I traipsed across the cabin to the kitchenette. For such a short walk--maybe a dozen steps total--it sure felt like it lasted forever. I was hyperaware of my body, of the way my ass jiggled, the way my tits swayed and bounced, of my hips, my thighs, even the sway of my back. I felt all three sets of eyes on me as I made that walk, and I managed to make it to the kitchenette without turning and diving back into the comfort of the quilt. Once I was committed, though...it was a rush. My heart thumped and my nerves jangled, and as I took step after step, my confidence increased.

  After all, my sister has seen me naked on a daily basis, and Corin obviously liked the way I look, and it's probably a safe bet Canaan did too...so what did I have to feel self-conscious about? And besides, I knew I looked good. I worked my ass off to look this way, to be in this shape. An hour in the gym four days a week, no matter where I am, plus thirty minutes of yoga every day, the occasional jog on the beach, healthy eating...I'm a model, which means my body is my product, so obviously I'm going to take really good care of myself.

  Which means...I look damn good.

  And I have zero reason to feel self-conscious. Especially around these three people. At one time, these three human beings were the people I was closest to. Aerie still was, and Corin was fast becoming more important than ever, and Canaan was...Canaan; I've shared a lot with him, and I haven't forgotten how close we used to be--it's just weird being naked around him.

  But after last night...

  Nope. Not going there.

  Not yet.

  I reached the kitchenette, finally, and located the mugs. I poured myself a mug, and turned around to lean against the counter, one leg crossed over the other, mug in one hand, toying with my hair with the other. Not shielding myself, or covering up.

  I lifted my mug to the others. "Normally I'd pour some for everyone, but in this case, I feel like I made that walk, so the rest of you can too."

  Corin nodded, and slid off the bed and walked this way. I was struck yet again by how insanely hot he was--as he walked, his muscles shifted and his tattoos danced, and his hair was loose and draped around his shoulders, and his cock was long and thick, dangling between his thighs, tantalizing me with promise and visions of what else I could do with that magnificent organ of his. My core tingled and heated, need for Corin renewing and blasting through me. I let it flow through me, and as Corin approached, I let the need shine through my eyes, let him see it in the way I gazed at him.

  He poured himself a mug, and glanced sideways at me. "Don't look at me like that," he murmured. "You look at me like that, I'm liable to drag you into the bathroom and bend you over the sink."

  "Don't threaten me with a good time," I muttered back, grinning at him over the rim of the mug, echoing my words from yesterday.

  He just laughed, and moved to stand on the other side of me so he wasn't blocking the coffee maker. Aerie got up next, with Canaan right behind her. There was no sense of embarrassment, oddly, more just nerves and the rush. There was also no sense of averted eyes, which made things less awkward in some ways and more so in others. Less awkward, in that we all felt free to let our eyes just wander, rather than a lot of awkward non-staring. More so, in that, well...I was naked in a room with three other naked people, one of whom was my sister, the other of whom I'd been engaging in sexual activity with, the other of whom I'd had a drunken, weird, almost-thing with...

  NOPE.

  Still not going there.

  I let myself look at Canaan--his tattoos had the same sense of meaningful imagery as Corin's, each one personal, each one a story. He was equally cut, his abs defined and hard, his chest carved, his arms toned. Canaan was leaner than Corin, though--not by much, a difference in bulk that was only noticeable in this scenario--both of them naked and in the same room.

  Which--Jesus, it was a lot of gorgeous naked male to take in.

  Aerie's eyes cut to mine as she poured coffee for Canaan and then for herself, and we exchanged a glance that traded a silent ohmygod, they're so fucking hot! She was as overwhelmed as I was by the eye-boggling amount of cut abs and bright tats and hard muscles and thick, dangling dicks.

  We stood in the kitchenette, sipping coffee, trading glances, and suppressing grins at the absurdity of this situation.

  Eventually, Corin burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, this is just the weirdest situation I've ever been in."

  "It is pretty weird," Canaan said.

  "Not to be too...I dunno, crude or anything," Corin said, "but I'm not exactly complaining. I don't th
ink I've ever been surrounded by so much female beauty in my life."

  Canaan quirked an eyebrow at him. "The only time that even comes close is that time on the tour bus with the guys from Nitro Punch, but those girls weren't even in the same universe of hot as these damn Kingsley twins."

  Corin ran his hand through his hair, laughing. "Holy shit, that was quite a night."

  I shot a look at him. "Well?" I demanded, when no details seemed forthcoming. "Now you have to tell the story."

  Canaan and Corin exchanged looks, which seemed to result in Corin drawing the right to tell the story.

  "So, we were just starting our very first national tour, a few months after moving to LA. In a new deal, the label had just hooked us up with Toby and Brett to fill out the band. We'd done a few local LA shows; a couple in San Francisco and San Diego, one in Vegas...and things were taking off. Then we got tapped to open, ehhh...half a dozen or so shows for this band called Nitro Punch, a little mini-tour of the West Coast and areas near it, Portland, Seattle, Vegas, Houston. Anyway, Nitro Punch...douchey name, good guys, great musicians. We were all young single rock stars, okay? You have to remember that. So we finished a show in Seattle. Mike, the lead guitarist, brought this trio of girls backstage with him after the show. Not unusual, they're a pretty big band; he's a good-looking guy, whatever. I figure he's gonna take all three of 'em onto his bus with them, like usual. Well, he doesn't. We all sit in Mike's green room shooting the shit, smoking some herb and drinking and whatever. One of the girls has her phone go off, and she spends a few minutes texting. And then she was like, 'I have some friends who really want to meet you guys, but they don't have a car, so we'd have to go pick them up.'

  "She wasn't talking about just signing autographs, okay? Like, she was basically saying, take us to get our friends, and we guarantee everyone will have a great time. So Mike rounds his boys up, and invites us to go with them. So we're, like, hell, yeah. Toby and Brett had their own shit going, so we went with Nitro Punch on their bus. The three girls were all pretty hot, in a granola sorority sort of way."

  He took a few sips of coffee, and then continued.

  "So we get on the bus, and I'm thinking, shit's about to go down. But it doesn't. We sit on the bus and keep drinking, keep smoking. The girls are just chillin', talking shit with us, whatever. It's cool, but it's not what we were expecting, right? So, then, a good thirty minutes' drive from the theater where we'd had the concert, we pull up in front of this house on a totally nondescript street in a low-end neighborhood, and we're in this, like, half-a-million-dollar tour bus. The door of the house opens and, no shit, six women all parade out and onto the bus. And then it's on. These chicks are already lit, like they've clearly been partying hard and are ready to fuckin' go. The bus pulls out of the neighborhood and hits the highway, and Mike cranks on some music, and that's when the clothes start coming off." He laughs, remembering. "We were seventeen, thinking we had the world in the palm of our hands, man. Nine chicks, all college girls, and they had zero inhibitions. Mike pulled out a bottle of water and started squirting their shirts, and it turned into an impromptu wet T-shirt competition, and then the shirts came off, and...yeah. It was a good night."