Bad Girl by Night (30 page)

That’s when she caught something in her peripheral vision—a bit of movement—and she flicked her glance subtly to the right to see Rogan standing in the shadows at the side of the boat, watching them. Dear God. She was sure he’d appeared only now, and probably on accident, not knowing what he’d walk in on—but he stayed silent, unmoving.

Part of her wanted to cling to Jake, cover herself, hide. But another part experienced the urge to let herself stay on display for him. So few men had ever found her truly exciting. Desiree, sure—but Carly, no.

Still, she simply leaned in close to Jake, pressing herself against his chest and bringing her mouth to his ear. She whispered, “Rogan is here. Watching.”

When he stayed quiet, she finally turned her head, looked into his eyes. Their faces were but an inch apart and she could feel both their bodies practically pulsing from the heat she’d just tried to still. Finally, he whispered back, “We can stop if you want,” but his voice sounded thick, throaty, from arousal.

“I . . . I’m not sure,” she admitted. “What do
you
want?”

“Mostly I want to make you happy, turn you on.”

“You always do. That’s why . . . I want whatever
you
want right now.”

His breath came labored in her ear as he said, “Then . . . hell, honey—if it’s really up to me . . . please don’t stop, please keep going.”

The very words made her draw in her breath as their gazes stayed locked.

“I want him to see how hot you are,” Jake breathed. “I want him to see how good you fuck me.”

C
arly’s heart beat so hard she could have sworn she could hear it. Old feelings warred inside her with new ones. What he’d just suggested felt unthinkable in one sense—until she reminded herself that she’d fucked both Jake and Colt together in a hotel room only a few short months ago. Short months that felt very long, though. Because she loved this man. And she was her true self with him. And that made everything she did with him mean so much more. Whether it turned out to be for the better—or for the worse.

And yet, he’d given her a choice and she’d responded by putting it back in his hands. And her breasts ached and her pussy yearned. She felt wild and sexy and beautifully dirty under Rogan’s unexpected gaze. And she wanted to please Jake. She wanted it so much. She wanted to be everything he could ever want in a woman.

And the fact that she still floated in the sweet swirl of intoxication helped. Helped her to revel in wondering if Rogan liked her tits as much as Jake did. Helped her to decide the raging desire between her legs was more important than her old need to be a good girl. Helped her to lift her hands to Jake’s face and kiss him with utter passionate abandon, her way of saying the word she couldn’t quite get past her lips:
Yes
.

Jake delivered firm, hungry tongue kisses now that nearly buried her—in between stopping to suck on her nipples from time to time. He massaged her ass as she undulated against his erection, on the verge of losing control.

Until he murmured, “Slow down, baby. Don’t you dare come yet. Don’t you dare come until you’re fucking me, riding me.”

And oh God, she wanted to be doing that—
now
. Her lust had risen to a fever pitch quickly, almost from the second she’d resumed kissing him, the moment she’d known she was going to let the big, muscular, bad boy cop watch them.

As she rose to her knees, Jake tugged at the fabric molded to her rear, muttering, “Let’s get these off you,” then pulled the bikini bottoms to her thighs. A low growl echoed from Jake’s throat, exciting her further—and her cunt practically oozed with the knowledge that Rogan could see it now, pale and smooth and shaven in the moonlight.

It was going to be awkward getting her bottoms the rest of the way off in this position, but she simply leaned back,
way
back, lowering her ass to the extended bottom of the chair between Jake’s legs, and held her own legs up toward him, knees bent. He wasted no time removing her bottoms completely and tossing them away—and then she followed her naughtiest instinct without hesitation: Still leaning back, arms stretched out behind her to brace herself, she parted her legs. Wide. As wide as they would comfortably go. To let Jake look. To let Rogan look.

“Holy fuck,” Jake murmured, eyes glued on her pussy, which she knew without even a glance was open and pink and glistening wet. Her whole body vibrated with lust. With being the willing
object
of lust. And she praised the heavens for a clear night with a large, bright moon that made her so visible right now.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Jake said. “Come to me. Slide that sweet pink pussy onto my cock before I lose my mind.”

Carly practically bounded forward to straddle him again, as eager as
he
was now, and they both struggled to free his erection from his swim trunks. Once it was within her sight, in her fist, she burned to have it inside her and felt empty without it. Balancing on her knees, with Jake gripping her ass, she smoothly impaled herself, taking him all the way to the hilt.

They both moaned at the deep entry and Carly’s cheeks went hot.

“Always so tight, honey,” Jake murmured.

“You feel so good and big,” she told him, her inhibitions all but gone now.

“Fuck me,” he said—and the deeply spoken command reverberated all the way down to her soul. She began to move, as fueled by Rogan’s eyes as she was by Jake’s. She fucked him with hot abandon, so turned on she could barely think—could only feel, react, follow her body’s urges.

The orgasm wasn’t long in coming. She felt as if she’d never been so wet, as if Jake had never been this big and rock-hard. He sucked her tits, and her clit connected with his body just above the base of his cock, and everything inside her moved in all the right, perfect ways until she felt herself reaching the precipice, pushed there all the harder by knowing an extra pair of male eyes watched her. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she whimpered as she rocked and rode him, sobbing softly as the pleasure tore through her in wild, throbbing waves that somehow made her feel all the more beautiful.

When the climax passed, she slumped against him, spent and clinging, needing his arms to fold around her after what she’d just done while letting another man watch them. But Jake held her tight and it made everything okay, even that sobering postorgasmic moment when it would have been so easy to suffer regret.

“You okay?” Jake whispered in her ear.

He meant about Rogan. Because he couldn’t quite believe she’d gone along with it. And if she was gonna freak out, it would be now.

So relief poured through him when she nodded against his shoulder and murmured, “Yes.
Oh
yes.” Relief and more hot lust.

“I want to fuck you hard now,” he told her. “I want to fuck your pretty little brains out.”

Slowly, she sat up, looked him in the eye. He liked the raw heat still residing in her gaze. “Then fuck me,” she said.

And since he was still inside her—shit, that could have sent him blasting into orgasm right then and there, but he held himself together and said, “Stand up.”

She looked a little surprised, but rose off him. Damn, she looked hot standing there in nothing but that pushed aside bikini top. And maybe he was a bastard, but in that moment he hoped Rogan was enjoying the view.

He wasn’t quite sure why—he’d never really fucked a girl in front of his friends before. Although when they were young, there’d been occasions when he would be in one room with a girl while one of his buddies was in the next room with another, or other occasions when they would
hear
each other going at it. But this was different. Maybe he’d just taken pleasure in their jealousy all day and wanted to let Rogan see that it was well-founded, that they
should be
jealous. Or maybe this was about him telling her it would excite him to share her again. He’d been reasonably sure she’d never go for that—but this was a little
like
sharing. Or maybe it was about him wanting her to let go of all the old feelings that had always held her back, wanting her to make up for lost time and experience all the variations of sex he could give her.

Hell, though—didn’t matter what it was. All that mattered right now was that, for whatever reason, Rogan’s silent participation made this damn arousing. And Jake was going to push her now, a little more than usual.

Shrugging out of his trunks as he stood up as well, he said, “Go to the railing. Climb up on the bench, on your knees, facing the water.”

He kept half-expecting her to balk at some point, since with Rogan’s presence, maybe doing it in the chair, keeping it simple, should have been enough. But she didn’t balk—just did as he said, her sweet round ass arching toward him now. As he approached her, he sought Rogan in the darkness using only his peripheral vision. Yeah, he wanted to share her, but he was afraid she’d get upset if he let his friend
know
they knew he was there, that they both condoned it.

After catching the glint in his friend’s eyes, where he stood hidden in the shadows, Jake then turned his attention back to his gorgeous, naked girl. Moving up behind her, reveling in the view, he closed greedy splayed fingers over her ass and let his dick nestle at its center. “Are you ready for this cock?” he asked her. Yeah, he was feeling the urge to control, to dominate now, and he didn’t even try to push it down.

“Please,” she begged, sounding impatient. “Please fuck me.”

Aw. Damn. Sometimes just that nearly undid him. His erection tightened even further as he slid it just once up the crease of her ass, listening to her moan; then he drew back his hand and slapped her rear. She let out a little moan. Then he finally took his shaft in hand and fed it into her waiting cunt.

This was one of the positions where she seemed to feel his cock more intensely, so it didn’t surprise him when she leaned her head back to let out a sigh of pure, lusty pleasure. Damn, she was so fucking wet, and such a good, tight, hugging fit. “Oh God,” she breathed. “Your cock is fucking huge.”

Arrogant warmth settled over him. Because he was fucking huge. And because she didn’t blurt out things that dirty all the time and it was damn exciting when she did.

“Hold on to that railing tight, because I’m gonna fuck you like a freight train,” he promised her through gritted teeth—and then he began to pound into her as hard as he could. She cried out at each rough stroke—but quickly began biting her lip, trying to hold the sounds in. He didn’t slow down; he didn’t let up one bit—in fact, he smacked her ass a few more times, knowing she enjoyed some occasional spanking. He thrust so powerfully that the flesh of her ass jiggled with each commanding plunge into that tiny wet tunnel, and he heard her moans of pleasure coming through clenched teeth.

At one point, he hooked his arm around her waist to brace her and tangled his other hand into her long, loose hair, pulling back on it just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make her scalp tingle. When her moans instantly dropped an octave, he knew the new pleasure was sifting down through her, making her all the more submissive to him in this moment. He’d never done the hair thing with her before—afraid it would be one dominant act too many—but tonight he’d plowed forward with the urge and wasn’t sorry.

His loins began to ache from the position, but his cock and balls, which slapped against the outer flesh of her pussy with each drive, felt too damn good to stop. In fact . . . “Oh baby, baby . . . I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fucking come in you.”

“Oh, do it,” she sobbed hotly. “Come hard. I want you to come hard.”

He continued pounding into her—again, again, again—overcome with pleasure and lust and everything about her, loving her naughty compliance, loving that Rogan was watching the whole thing, until finally—fuck yes—he erupted inside her, slamming his cock in as hard as he could with each last explosive stroke. He felt his come shoot violently, let his eyes shut, just rode it out until the end.

After which total exhaustion gripped him and he muttered, “Jesus Christ,” slumping against her for a minute, hugging her from behind. “You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered against her back, aware of the sheen of sweat now covering them both.

After he finally withdrew, grabbed a napkin from a nearby table to help her clean up, then assisted her in turning around, they stood for a moment in a loose embrace, staring into each other’s eyes, sharing it all: the submission, Rogan’s presence, Jake’s hand in her hair, the warm night, the stars up above. “I love you,” he whispered. He didn’t care if Rogan heard that part, either.

“I love you, too,” she said. Music to his ears.

 

 

T
o Carly’s surprise, it wasn’t even yet midnight when they exited the small shower in their room a little while later—and she felt revived. “I wonder if your friends are still in the hot tub,” she said, hoping they might be gone.

Jake, resting beautifully naked on the bed, raised his eyebrows. “Really? Aren’t
you
the energetic little thing.”

“I guess I’m feeling like making the most of this. I can sleep at home.”

He grinned. “I like your attitude.” Then he reached for his discarded trunks on the foot of the bed. “Although even if they’re still there, I doubt they’d mind sharing it with us.”

Yet she shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m ready to face Rogan just yet. And besides, I still haven’t had much alone time with you.”

“Look, woman,” he said, giving his head a pointed tilt, “if you think we’re gonna fuck again tonight, I’ve got bad news for ya. I don’t like admitting this, but you wore me out.”

“Me and all that beer,” she teased. “But this isn’t about sex—I’d just like to sit in the hot tub and cuddle. If they’re gone, I mean.”

Jake slipped into his shorts, gave her a wink, and said, “Let me go check.”

A minute later he returned, reporting it was all clear, so she started to put back on her swimsuit. Yet when she picked up her top, Jake took it right back out of her hand to say, “If it’s just you and me, no reason you need this.”