Page 31 of Hooking Up

Quint took a step toward her. “What happened back in Alabama, that isn’t the end, Bella.”

“I wanted it to be,” she said hoarsely. A knife twisted in his gut. She stared at him sidelong, a glint in her eye. “But I could probably go for one more ride.”

Quint arched a brow. “We’ll start at one then get you agreeing to two by the end of the night.”

“Or three…or forever.” Carter closed his fingers over the hem of her tank top. When he peeled it off her, leaving glowing, tanned skin, Quint’s cock jumped to instant attention.

“By the time we’re finished playing with you and come together, darlin’, there’s going to be a nuclear meltdown.” With one flick of his fingers, Quint unclasped her bra. He tossed it away and they went right for her breasts.

Throwing her head back, she cupped their heads to her as they sucked her nipples into their hungry mouths. She gasped and moaned and begged for more. “Just one more time,” she whimpered.

Chapter Seven

If someone had told Bella that three people could fit on her double mattress set into the back of her trailer, she never would have believed it. But it wasn’t difficult when they were stacked up like pats of butter melting together.

Every nerve ending in her body throbbed as she straddled Carter’s face. The scorch of his tongue against her clit thrilled her as much as Quint moving inside her from behind. He sank into her ass, and Carter suckled her throbbing button. With each move, she launched higher.

A haze of passion stole her mind. She had too much invested in these guys for her liking, but she’d make sure to put the brakes on all emotions tomorrow. For now, she wanted them more than anything.

Carter clamped his lips around her clit, using the tip of his tongue to lightly stroke the ball of nerves. She cried out. Quint thrust deep again, and her scream ended on a long moan.

God, they’d been at this for hours and still she wasn’t satisfied. With Quint and Carter, satisfied wasn’t even a word in her dictionary. She always needed more, more, more.

A deep burn spread through her lower belly. The guys knew just what to do to pull the loudest noises from her. If anybody walked by the trailer, they’d think a wild animal was inside.

Grinding her hips, she felt a brush of fingertips and realized with a jolt that Carter was fondling Quint’s balls as he fucked her ass. Her orgasm rushed up fast and hard. Her body shook as the biggest release of the night raged through her.

Carter gripped her hips, holding her tight as Quint caressed her spine with his lips.

“Come on, darlin’. Give it all to us.”

She had a feeling they were really asking for more than her screaming orgasms. They wanted her mind, body and soul.

She couldn’t be harnessed by a man, though.

But maybe two can hold me?

With her hands braced against the wall, she rode out the last of her bliss. Fatigue washed over her. As if knowing this, Quint slipped from her body and Carter lifted her off his face. She found herself curled between both men, a Bella sandwich.

She giggled.

A light slap came down on her outer hip, and she squealed. “Are you laughing at us, wench?” Carter rumbled.

“No, just thinking I’m like the filling of a sandwich.”

“So now we’re dough-y like bread.”

“Not remotely.” She’d run her hands over their muscled chests if she had the strength. They’d worn her out.That and worry.She wasn’t ready to confide yet.

“Well, you’re definitely a sweet filling. Strawberry jam or honey. Mmm.” Quint swirled his tongue in circles up the column of her throat to that favorite spot of his behind her ear.

She let her eyes shut and let them give her ease. If she told the guys about Josey Wheels, they’d understand. Who else could? But voicing her fears was too difficult.

Barrel racing horses experienced a lot of strain on joints and tendons. Normally the rider wrapped the legs to protect them, but she’d been careless and warmed her up without the wrappings.

After the first few turns she’d realized her error and had quickly stopped. The day after she hadn’t noted any issues with her horse, but before the race in Alabama, she’d noticed her horse had a little tenderness along one leg.

Backing out of the race was the only way to keep her animal from true injury, and she’d seen to the tender spot herself, turning a hose on the affected area and letting the cold water run over it. Now she was watching the mare closely. No precaution was too silly—an injury could end her career.

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