Page 63 of The Charlie Method

Which is precisely what I’m going to do right now, because the idea that I’ve been exchanging sexy messages with the two hockey players I watched tonight, one of whom tried to pound another guy’s face into the ice like some wild animal…

Another moan is ripped from my throat.

Oh God, since when does the idea of violence turn me on? It shouldn’t be getting methishot. And I shouldn’t be modifying my fantasy, turning up the heat. Will Larsen is still between my legs, but Beckett Dunne is at his side now, squeezing my breast, leaning down to kiss me while his friend gets ready to fuck me.

I bite my lip as I picture Beckett’s teasing smirk. Will’s gleaming eyes.

A warm shiver races through my body. My eyelids close before I can stop them. My hand slips inside my pajama shorts, beneath the waistband of my panties.

I imagine Will’s hands on my waist as he pushes his cock inside me. I hear Beckett’s drawl, soft and commanding in my ear, telling me how much he wants me. How he can’t wait for his turn.

The heat between my legs intensifies as I rub slow, deliberate circles over my clit. I can practically feel the hood of the car, the cold metal against my back as Will presses into me. I feel his body against mine. His entire length filling me. I feel Beckett’s thumb on my nipple, his lips tracing my collarbone.

I swallow my gasp, my hips rocking up to meet my own touch.

There’s no stopping this. A swirl of X-rated images assaults my brain, but it’s the thought of being with both of them at once that sends me over the edge. My body tenses, waves of pleasure crashing through me as I hear Beckett whispering my name, Will groaning that he’s coming too. The orgasm is exquisite. It tingles in my fingertips and toes, sparks dancing all over my flesh and throbbing between my legs.

Oh.

My.

Fucking God.

It takes me a few minutes to catch my breath. Fine, I think, when my heart rate finally slows. Maybe the notion that my sexy Swedes are Will and Beckett isn’t entirely unappealing.

Question is, is it a fantasy that should stay virtual, or should I act on this insanity and meet them for a threesome?

Because honestly, that sounds like the premise of a cold case documentary about the gruesome murder of a college girl.

Thereareways to ensure my safety, though. I can ask for face pics to verify that it’s them. Request a public place for our first meetup and make sure Faith knows where I’ll be.

The logistics are manageable. It’s the consequences that I fear.

Luckily, I have a tool that can help me decide.

Wide awake now despite the late hour, I hop out of bed to grab my laptop. Then I crawl back under the covers and open a new document.

ACTION: Meet up with the Swedes.

The pros include trying new things, college is meant for experimentation, and endless pleasure.

On the flipside: maybe it won’t be at all pleasurable.

Really, I could be in store for a major disappointment, because we all know fantasies never live up to reality. A threesome sounds great on paper, but then you put it into practice, and suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of awkward questions. Like where do all the body parts go? And what happens when one of them is fucking me? Is the other one just sitting there playing a video game, waiting for his turn?Please, miss, may I penetrate you now?

I choke down my laughter. Yeah…I suspect the mechanics might not be as smooth and effortless as the fantasy suggests.

But is that a reasonnotto do it?

I hit the return key and get started on the outcome analysis. The heart of the Method.

What is theworstthing that could happen if I do this?

OUTCOME #1: I get an STI.

Possible. But I feel like as long as we’re using protection, I should be okay, right?

I pull up a web browser to look up some trusted statistics.

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