Page 133 of Charlie

"God, I fucking hope not. If I had my way, you wouldn't leave the bed for forty-eight hours."

"But he won't get his way because we decided on plans together, right Jack?" Lach slaps Jack on the back and takes a mug from the counter.

"Hey, other than getting the supplies I need, I'm perfectly fine with staying at the hotel the entire time," I say, taking a careful sip of my coffee.

Cam looks at me in horror. "I don't think you realize what you're saying. Do you know how many historical sites there are to see? The abbey, the writer's museum, the national gallery—" He ticks them off on his fingers, his eyes lighting up at the thought of showing me his favorite places.

"I get it," I laugh, "I'm good with whatever you guys have planned for me. I hope the majority of it involves all three of you inside me for long periods of time," I call over my shoulder as I head out the door.

Unfortunately, as it turns out, I don't have to sit on anyone's lap. The only thing we don't have room for is Lach's cooler filled with drinks and snacks. I opt for putting it where my feet would go instead of between Cam and me. I'm trying to decide the best way to sit when Cam pats his lap, motioning for me to drape my legs over him.

"Are you sure?"

"Honestly, I was hoping it would be your ass in my lap, not your feet." He unlaces my shoe, tucking them under Jack's seat before pressing his thumb into the arch of my foot and sliding it up toward my toes.

"Cam!" I try to scramble away from him, but he holds onto me, continuing the assault until I'm a boneless, moaning mess. As Lach turns into the ferry parking lot, Cam presses my foot against his hardened length.

"I think I have a problem, Charlie," he chuckles, thrusting against my foot before tugging my shoes back on my feet.

"Are you turned on by feet?"

"There isn't a single part of your body that doesn't turn me on," he says, looking at me through his eyelashes. "You know what my favorite part is?"

"What?"

"The freckle right..." he slides his hand up my leg, beneath my skirt, stopping just shy of where I want him "...here." He circles his finger over the freckle, his eyes darkening as my legs open for him automatically.

How will I get through this car ride when I can't manage to go ten minutes without wanting one of them to fuck me? This is going to be the longest five hours of my life.

74

After waiting about twenty minutes to get on the ferry, we park where the attendant tells us to and abandon the car, beginning the hike up to the tiny café. Jack traps me halfway up, pressing me against the wall, his knee nudging between my legs.

"Does this remind you of anything?" he asks, running a calloused fingertip across my cheek, along my jaw, and over the sensitive skin of my throat.

"I remember you were standing there looking up at me," I say, meeting his gaze, the memory making my heart race. "And I remember losing you." I swallow the lump in my throat as the feelings rush back.

He tightens his fist around the neck of my sweater and pulls me roughly to his lips. I stretch up to meet him, pushing my hands into his hair and kissing him like I wanted to earlier this summer.

"And then you found me in the library. I'll never forget how you looked with that white dress floating around your ankles, your skin gilded by the fire. If Isla hadn't interrupted us that night..."

"What would you have done?"

"If you had been willing, I would have hiked that dress over your head and tasted the nectar of the gods."

"The two of you are causing quite the scene," Lach whisper-shouts, chuckling as he jogs down the stairs toward us. He turns my chin toward him and captures my lips with his own. Someone whistles at us, and I break free, pushing away from them to continue up to the main level.

"You're the one causing a scene," I hiss back at him, looking around us, but I only see one woman walking away. She looks back and gives me an exaggerated wink. God, I hope everyone we encounter is that accepting.

"So, how are you feeling about tonight?" Lach asks me once we've settled into the chairs overlooking the sea at the front of the boat.

I tick my emotions off on my fingers. "Nervous. Excited. Horny."

"Why are you nervous?"

"The thought of being surrounded by three huge men...”

"We would never do anything you don't explicitly agree to, Charlie."

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