Page 2 of Secondhand Smoke

She winked at him, and he knew it was off to the races.

“What a lucky girl I am,” Jasmine said, and reached to trace a fingertip along the shell of Carter’s ear. “Sitting here with two blonde boys.”

Carter stiffened all over; his shoulders tightened up. His head turned slowly, fractionally, gaze fixed on Jasmine with surprise…and wonder. Alittlewonder. Had this been a non-club woman, he probably wouldn’t have thought anything of her statement. But he knew Jazz at this point, the way her dirty mind worked.

Jasmine smiled at him. “You don’t have a little girlfriend stashed somewhere, do you?” Her voice dropped with every word, that purring seductive tone Tango had heard so many times. He knew she wasn’t exclusive with him, but he never saw her turn the charm toward someone else right in front of him. It sent a jolt through his system. His cock stirred behind his fly, and his stomach clenched.

“No,” Carter said slowly, and his blue eyes came to Tango.What the hell?they asked.

Tango shrugged and took a long pull on his beer.

“Aw.” Jasmine gave a pretend pout. “That’s too bad.” She grinned. “For the girls. Not for me.”

Her hand slid down the side of Carter’s neck, flirted with the collar of his cut, his t-shirt. Opened against his chest and smoothed down. Slowly. Across his stomach. Landing in his lap.

Carter jerked a little, sucked in a breath. He looked at Tango again, his gaze almost frantic.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jasmine asked, voice gentle, deep. “You ever done this before?”

His eyes were big, a little frenzied, chest lifting as he breathed. He was aroused – that much was evident by the bulge Jasmine was rubbing through his jeans. But he wasn’t sure if this was against protocol. A good kid, Carter – always conscientious.

“I’ve done it plenty,” he said, voice tight, and looked like he strained not to lift into her touch. “It’s just that…” Another look thrown Tango’s direction.Help me here, man. This is your woman.

Jasmine turned to glance at Tango, and grinned before putting her attention back on Carter. “Oh, you’re worried? Don’t be, baby. Lemme tell you something about our pretty Tango-baby. He promised he’d get me a present.” Her hand continued to rub at the boy’s straining erection, working him with slow skill over the fly of his jeans.

“Yeah?” he asked distractedly, eyes going to her ministrations. “What sorta present?”

She reached for the button of his jeans. Thumbed it open with deft precision. “He promised he’d talk to Aidan for me. About the three of us.” The sound of the zipper going down seemed thunderous to Tango. Or maybe that was just all the beer. Or maybe the way the blood was pounding. “The three of us together,” Jazz continued. “But he hasn’t done it yet.”

She pulled Carter’s cock out, took it in both her hands. “Maybe,” she purred, “it’s just as well. ‘Cause then we wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”

Tango watched, as if in a drugged hallucination, as Jasmine got up onto the couch on her knees between them, her back to him, and bent forward, leaned low. Took Carter’s stiff cock into her mouth.

Carter’s head kicked back against the sofa and he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring.

Tango knew just what her mouth felt like, could relate perfectly to that rush of sensation.

She reached back with one hand and hiked her shirt up, exposing the firm curves of her ass. She was naked, of course, and Tango knew what she wanted.

He reached between her legs, found her damp sex and stroked her.

Years ago, when he was just a kid, before Jasmine, there had been Misty. And it had been her, and him, and Aidan in that dorm room, the night of Aidan’s deflowering, and that woman had been wicked and insatiable, and she’d wanted both of them. That’s how it went with these groupies, didn’t it? They did everything, had everyone, and eventually, none of it was enough. He’d thought – stupidly – that maybe he and Jazz could be something more for each other. That she’d stop seeking out the others, stop needing that reckless high of the forbidden.

But she couldn’t change. And neither could he; after all, he was just a sex toy. That’s all he’d ever be.

Jasmine sat up with a slow slurping sound, rubbing her damp lips together, eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming.

“Tango,” she murmured, looking drugged as she turned to him. “Can we? Please?”

He spent most of his nights in Ian Byron’s bed these days. Who was he to say no to anything?

“Sure, baby.”

Her grin was bright with excitement as she stood and motioned for them to follow her.

Carter tucked himself away as he stood, spine curled awkwardly as he struggled against the overwhelming effects of arousal.

“Hey, man,” he whispered as they started after Jasmine. “I’m not trying to…I mean, if you’re not okay with this…”

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