Page 142 of Unforgettable

In that moment, everything else in the world disappeared. It was only us—the three of us together in that room again. And the soul-deep connection pulling us together, anchoring us to one another.

Behind me, Reed’s fingers twisted in my hair while the other hand drifted to my shoulder, urging me back against him. Thrusting forward, I buried myself in our girl as she drenched my cock, and pulling out, I impaled myself on Reed.

The sounds he made behind me were labored and restrained, and I knew he was close. I was close.

“You sound so pretty when you come on his cock. Now, come inside of her. Fill her up as I come in your ass.”

Like a lightning strike straight to my balls, my release barreled down my spine, and before I knew it, I was doing exactly as Reed instructed. My seed coated every inch of Amanda’s cunt as I felt Reed’s release—hot and wet and so fucking satisfying—pump into my ass.

There was nothing like it. Both of those things happening simultaneously was beyond anything I’d ever experienced.

And I wanted to do it again and again and again.

My arms nearly gave out at the same time Reed’s chest met my back. We were covering Amanda with most of our weight, and I tried to pick myself up, but I was entirely spent.

“We’re crushing her,” I said. But Reed just breathed deeply.

“I don’t mind it. If this is the way I go, know I went happily.”

We all broke out into a fit of laughter. I was softening inside of Amanda, and I could feel Reed softening inside of me. But I didn’t want to move and break our connection.

Our laughing finally stopped, and Reed moved off of me. But before he stood, he placed a lingering kiss at the base of my neck. Amanda’s sated state gave way to a smile when she noticed the gesture and the corresponding shiver that racked through me.

The next morning it wasn’t the sun, an alarm, or the sounds of others moving through the house that woke me up; it was a hand that wasn’t my own, covering my face and hot breath tickling my neck.

It was also miserably hot. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, but my view was partially skewed by the hand precariously placed over my eyes. I rolled to the side and away from the furnace beside me.

Reed was completely passed out—his mouth slightly open and his hair a disheveled mess—between me and Amanda. I remembered Amanda waking up in the middle of the night and shimmying down the bed, vacating her usual spot between us to use the restroom. While she was gone, I guess Reed took the opportunity—likely still fast asleep—to crawl to the middle.

I peered over him, and sure enough, Amanda flailed across the bed. With the way she starfished, her small frame took up more of the king-size bed than both Reed and I combined. They were both miserable to sleep with—between Amanda taking over the entire bed and Reed being the world’s biggest and hottest cuddler, I was doomed. But I also wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Reed rolled over to face Amanda, still completely passed out, and I kicked the comforter off before tugging the sheet back around my waist. The cool air lulled me back to sleep.

The second time I woke up that morning, I was wrapped around the furnace. Thankfully, only the thin gray sheet covered us and the air conditioning had kicked on.

My arm was loosely draped over Reed’s torso, and my face was buried in his hair at the back of his head. He smelled like the cedar and citrus body wash he used, and I swore I could still smell the sunshine clingy to his skin. For a second, I let myself breathe him in.

Although we lived together and it would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to slip in his room and in his bed when I got home from the bar in the early morning hours, I didn’t. And when it was the three of us, it was Amanda wrapped around me.

So it was the first time I’d woken up with a man in my arms. Like everything else, the feeling was foreign but unexpectedly good. Actually, I was past anything between us surprising me. Having him inside of me broke down any of the flimsy walls I had left.

My palm flattened against his stomach, and my entire front pressed against him as I breathed deeply. The muscles in his toned abdomen twitched, and he grunted softly.

“It’s too early,” he whispered in a sleep-laced voice that was lower than his normal speaking voice. It was ragged in the early morning hours, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It is, so go back to sleep.”

“It’s hard to sleep when your dick is impaling me.”

His hips twitched, and he scooted back an inch. Enough for me to realize that my dick was, in fact, pressed against his ass. The thought made more blood rush to my cock.

“Your cuddling has finally rubbed off on me,” I whispered back.

He gave a slight chuckle and readjusted, rubbing his ass against me once more. I felt pretty certain that the second time was intentional as well. “I can think of something else that probably needs to rub one out.”

My hand, still poised on his stomach, began to explore. I dipped my fingers between each abdominal muscle—memorizing the ridges and valleys until I tentatively fingered the planes of his chest. I crossed his collarbone and followed the path until I collared my hand around his throat. Then I retraced my steps back down his body.

My hand brushed his cock. “I don’t think this is just morning wood. I don’t think you actually mind that my dick is pressed against your ass right now.”

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