Page 115 of Some Like It Hot

Then I’m limp and sprawled over Blake’s damp chest, reaching for Simon. I turn my head. “Give me.”

He laughs softly. “Just give me?”

“Yes. I can’t do any hard work but fuck my mouth, Simon. I want to swallow you.”

“Only a fucking fool would say no to that.”

I open my mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to thrust his cock between my lips, pumping hard.

“This isn’t going to take long,” he mutters. “You are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

I suck in my cheeks and open the back of my throat.

He’s right.

In less than a minute, salty heat hits the back of my throat as he groans.

“Jesus,” Simon breathes.

When he eases out, I swallow in pure cat-like satisfaction. “Mmm. That was the exclamation point I needed.”

Blake shifts me to the side and I fall onto the bed boneless, mentally floating somewhere in the clouds. My legs are still trembling and I shiver, still feeling the little electrical aftershocks of the powerful orgasms.

“I’ve never been this happy. Ever. I could take on the entire world,” I tell them all. “Once I can move again.”

Simon chuckles and brushes my hair off of my cheek. “Sleep, love.”

Aidan bends down and kisses the top of my head. “You were incredible.”

Blake runs his hand down my arm lazily, up and down, in a gesture so tender I sigh in pure contentment.

Then I drift off.

When I wake up after dozing off for what I thought was just a few minutes, but was clearly longer, there’s a glass of water on the nightstand for me. I sit up and take a sip, instantly aware that the warm body snug against mine isn’t Aidan or Simon, but Blake.

He’s asleep.

For once, it looks like he plans to spend the night.

He never does that with Simon and Aidan here.

The bed is too crowded for the four of us. I can admit that. It doesn’t bother me that he leaves. He’s in his final season of hockey and he needs decent sleep.

He also thinks I don’t realize it, but when I have stayed over at his condo twice, he’s gone into the kitchen in the middle of the night and wrapped both of his knees with flexible ice packs.

Blake’s body is beat to hell from hockey.

So he must be exhausted to have just fallen asleep here.

Even cuddled against me, he has sprawled his legs out and taken over the majority of the bed.

Overcome by the fact that he rushed over here to make sure I was okay tonight, I watch him sleep, his hair a tangled mess. He needs better conditioner. Or to stop raking it back and dumping water on it repeatedly during games.

Simon and Aidan must have moved to the couch to try to sleep.

Which has to be virtually impossible for two grown men to do, spooning or not.

Easing out of bed, I pull on a T-shirt that’s laying on the floor. I realize it’s Aidan’s. I can smell his cologne and it goes nearly to my knees.

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