Page 40 of Wicked Fantasies

Tequila Truth

One is the loneliest number, two’s company, but three is a dream come true.

The rules of Tequila Truth are simple. Shots are poured, a question asked, and only absolute truth can be the answer. Kylie has been playing the game with her roommates, Colt and Heath, since their freshmen year of college.

On his twenty-fifth birthday, Heath poses a question: “What is your ultimate sex fantasy?” While Colt and Heath’s fantasies are too hot for words, it’s Kylie’s sex dream that hits a little too close to home for all of them. Her wish? A ménage a trois with two men, complete with bondage and a bit of spanking for good measure.

Colt and Heath are only too willing to make Kylie’s fantasies come true and they make a proposal—one no-holds-barred, sexed-up weekend where nothing is off the menu. The only question is, come Monday, will their platonic relationship survive the passion?

For Jack and Glen

Prologue

“What is your ultimate sex fantasy?” Heath asked as he filled the shot glasses with Jose Cuervo.

Colt grinned while Kylie groaned.

“Christ. Surely we’ve answered that one before?” She knew they hadn’t, but this particular question made her uncomfortable. Quite frankly, she didn’t think her two testosterone-laden buddies were ready to hear about her fantasies. They believed her desires to be somewhat chaste. Silly men.

The trio had been following this same tradition since the early days of their friendship. Kylie initiated the celebration, calling it Tequila Truth, explaining that birthdays should be a time of reflection. The concept of the game was simple. The birthday boy—or girl in her case—posed a question and then each member drank a shot of tequila and answered. The only rule was the answer had to be completely honest.

Unfortunately, her attempt to bring deep introspection to her male roommates fell quite a bit short of the mark. They’d played the game since their freshman year of college and Heath’s questions always revolved around sex.

“Nope.” Heath began reciting past questions while ticking them off on his fingers. “Past questions have included your dream bed partner, strangest place you ever had sex and lost-virginity stories, but no sexual fantasies. I was saving this one up special.” He gave her a naughty grin that let her know he wasn’t fooled by her reluctance to share. By now, both men knew her well enough to know if she was holding back or wasn’t being completely honest.

She narrowed her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Heath, why don’t you try to play this game with some semblance of maturity? After all, you are twenty-five this year.”

Her complaint fell on deaf ears as Colt picked up his glass. “That’s an easy one.” He licked the salt off his hand, downed the tequila and sucked the lime. Licking his lips, he settled in for a long story. He was nothing if not an imaginative storyteller. “I’ve got this busty blonde all to myself on a desert island. We’re stranded and she’s completely at my mercy. Begging me to save her and all that crap. She’s wearing nothing but a bikini top and thong, as all of her clothes were ripped off during the shipwreck.”

Kylie interrupted at this point. “Holy hell, Colt. Why do these imaginary women of yours always have to be blonde and stupid?”

Heath and Colt laughed, but she merely raised her eyebrow, waiting for his response.

Colt stopped laughing when she failed to join in. “Oh, that was a serious question? I thought it was one of those rhetorical ones.”

She grinned despite herself. Colt was the ultimate male chauvinist pig and, for some inexplicable reason, she adored him anyway. He and Heath were the best friends she’d ever had and she didn’t doubt both of them would lay down their lives for her.

They’d mistaken her for a male—Kyle, not Kylie—when she wrote expressing a desire to share an apartment with them during their first year of college.

To soften the blow of their mistake, she’d pulled out a bottle of tequila her first night in residence. Her older brother had given it to her as a going-away present, unbeknownst to their parents. As it was her eighteenth birthday, she started the Tequila Truth game thinking it would be a great way for them to get to know one another.

Several drunken hours later, the three of them were as thick as thieves and had never lived apart since.

“You know you’re a blonde, right, Kylie?” Heath asked.

“Don’t lump me in with Colt’s blondes, Heath. It won’t end well for you,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“So what are you doing to this blonde with questionable intellect?” Heath, as always, relished Colt’s detailed descriptions, and was smart enough to know how to deflect.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this about me or not, but I’m a man who likes to be in control.”

She gasped, as if amazed, and laid her hand on her heart. “No, absolutely not. I will never believe that of you.”

He grinned at her sarcasm. “There’s some rope that’s washed up from the shipwreck and this chick is hot for me. I mean way hot. She starts begging me to take her.”

At this point in his story Kylie faked a bored yawn, but he continued anyway. “I grab the rope and take her over to a coconut tree. I throw the rope over one of the low-lying branches and tie her hands above her head.”

“Have you ever seen a coconut tree?” she asked. “The branches are miles off the ground.”

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