Authors: Morticia Knight
Antony licked aggressively at her clit with solid staying power, while moaning and bringing himself to the edge. Lorne continued his frenzied assault on her pussy and nipples, growling his pleasure as he did. Finally, she could hold back no longer.
“I’m coming, I’m coming…”
Lorne grunted, “Yes, my love. Take your pleasure.”
He looked down with satisfaction at Antony, so thrilled that the three of them had come together naturally as one like this, without any forced pretensions. As Antony and Lorne locked eyes, they both knew. And now they would come together physically as well.
As all three of the lovers loudly pronounced their fulfilment simultaneously, the roar was like music to Alexa’s ears. Their bodies relaxed. Antony rested his cheek on Alexa’s inner thigh and sighed in complete contentment. Lorne carefully unhooked Alexa’s leg from his shoulder and eased it down to his arm. Alexa laid her head across her arm and caressed the top of Antony’s head, while looking sideways at Lorne.
“Aaah,” declared Lorne aloud, “the perfect third.”
I do believe he is correct
, thought a thoroughly satisfied and happy Alexa. She couldn’t wait to try Antony next. Or maybe both at the same time. The possibilities were endless, and intriguing. With complete assuredness she said, “I’m ready for more. What about the two of you?”
Antony raised his eyebrow and turned to look at his two partners. “Alexa, you are both a surprise and a delight. Lorne, I’m an asshole, and you were right. I shouldn’t have been so doubting.”
Lorne felt himself misting over a little, but didn’t think tears would add anything to the evening. He cleared his throat and said, “Apology accepted. And you’re not an asshole, just stubborn. But enough talk; our precious lady here is ready for more action, and we need to oblige her.”
“My pleasure,” growled Antony, as he and Lorne moved in to kiss their lovely Alexa.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
The Dare
Jordyn McKenzie
Excerpt
Chapter One
I sat staring into the fading orange-to-blue flames as they glowed from the remnants of a massive campfire. It was the final evening of what had been one of the most fun weekends I’d ever had with my closest circle of friends. Having just graduated from college, we were all heading into that dreadfully long phase of life called adulthood. I myself was the proud owner of a bachelor’s degree in science and was preparing to start my first job in a medical laboratory in three weeks.
Planned as a celebration, a last hurrah before we all officially became grown-ups, the weekend had been spent hiking the trails and swimming the lake, with the guys unsuccessfully daring us girls to skinny-dip. We’d played and argued over various board and card games on the ageing picnic tables provided by the campground, and concluded each day in drunken revelry round the campfire. Feeling tired but oddly content, I allowed myself to become lost in my thoughts, surrounded by some of the people I cared for most in this world, while they exchanged stories of what would soon be known as ‘the good old days’. I was looking forward to seeing what the future held for us, what the future held for me. Well, for the most part anyway. One particular aspect of my future wasn’t looking so good, and I’d spent the better part of the weekend trying to convince myself that the time had come to make a very difficult decision.
“Where’s the chocolate at? I need another s’more!” Mark’s sudden and loud announcement jarred me from my deep thoughts. He stood up and walked over to the picnic table, knocking over unoccupied fold-up camp chairs and spilling beers in the process. I couldn’t help but laugh at the wake of destruction my Hulkish friend had left in his quest for more chocolate.
“Dude! Watch where you’re going!” Damien protested, jumping to his feet after his leg was soaked with beer. “These were the only dry jeans I had left here. Damn!”
“Not anymore.” I smirked at him, and he replied with a middle finger. I waved my metal hot dog roaster at Mark. “Hey, Mac-daddy, will you hook me up with a couple more marshmallows?”
He grinned at my years-old nickname for him and brought over the bag, plopping down in the chair next to me. “Anything for you, Sexy Lexi.”
“You two are twenty-two years old, how much longer are you going to call each other those dumb fucking names?” groaned Natalie, Mark’s girlfriend. Scowling, she stretched her long legs to bring her feet closer to the fire. Though she and Mark were very much an item now and had been for nearly two years, she hated the fact that for four months in eighth grade, Mark and I had been together. We’d broken up, become the best of friends, and, to her chagrin, the pet names Mark and I had called each other through our short-lived romantic relationship had stuck throughout our mostly platonic one.
“I’m cold, Mark,” she whined. “Why don’t we go back to our tent and you can warm me up?” She looked across the fire at him, running the tip of her tongue along her upper lip seductively.
Mark shoved the entire freshly made s’more into his mouth. “Hot! Ow, fuck! Hoo, that’s hot. Yeah, babe, let’s go.” Crumbs and chunks flew as he spoke through a mouthful of graham crackery-chocolate-marshmallow goo.
“Ugh, attractive,” Natalie muttered. “Good night, you guys.”
“Night. Keep it down, huh? The walls here are thin,” Damien joked. He tipped his head towards the tent Tasha and I were sharing, where she and Corey had finally fallen blessedly silent. Tasha had drunk half a bottle of Sour Apple Pucker and had become horny as hell, and when she’d decided she was ready for bed, Corey hadn’t hesitated to accept her invitation to join her. It turned out that Tasha was quite the screamer but, of course, being her roommate, I already knew this. Here in the mostly silent forest, however, through the paper-thin walls of their tent, it had made for a whole new listening experience, and not necessarily a good one.
Mark grinned again. “We’ll try to keep it down, but I’m not making any promises.” The two love birds disappeared into their tent, leaving Damien and I alone to sit companionably by the fire.
With all of us having been friends since high school or earlier, we’d been through so much together over the years. Tasha, Mark, Corey and I had known each other since the fifth grade, becoming close friends during middle school. Damien and Natalie, brother and sister, had moved to town in our junior year of high school and had somehow fallen in sync with our group. Corey and Natalie had hit it off and dated until halfway through senior year, while Damien had spent a lot of time skipping school and smoking weed with his stoner buddy, Parker, at either of their parents’ homes. I might have been there with them a time or three. Amazingly, when we all took the SAT, Damien’s scores had been through the roof and, thanks to the college funds left to him and Natalie by their grandparents, he had been able to join us when we had gone off to college.
Natalie and Mark had eventually hooked up and, with college over and real life looming, were now looking at getting an apartment together. Tasha and Corey were finally making a move on their connection that had for years been obvious to everyone but them. Damien and I were the odd ones out, and had become pretty tight over the course of our college years as a result. We’d even double-dated occasionally; me with Jarrod, who I’d been seeing for a little over a year, and Damien with whomever he was dating that particular week. I’d often kidded with him about his inability to retain a girlfriend for longer than a three-week stretch, but he’d just flash me those pearly whites and say ‘the ones worth keepin’ seem to be spoken for; I gotta make do with what’s available’. Lately, though, I’d begun to envy his freedom.
Jarrod had opted not to come on this camping trip. He got along okay with my friends, but had never made a real attempt to get to know them. His attitude towards them, and me, had worsened lately, so I was more than fine with his decision not to come. I could relax and have fun with my friends without having to worry about whether or not Jarrod was having a good time, something I seemed to spend more and more of my time doing these days.
“Hey, are you gonna eat those or are you just giving an offering to the campfire gods?”
Damien’s voice brought me back to the present just in time to see my swollen, burnt marshmallows burst into flames. I pulled the roasting stick out of the fire and blew them out, then gingerly peeled the charred layer off one and popped it into my mouth. “Mmm.” It was just right.
“That’s disgusting. How can you eat charcoal like that?”
“Because it is sticky, delicious charcoal, and that’s how I like it,” I replied as I slid the blackened skin off the other marshmallow. I shoved it in my mouth and then put the roasting stick back in the fire to burn the gooey lumps again.
Damien shook his head as he reached into his knapsack beside his feet and hauled out a bottle. “Want some?” He held the bottle out to me.
“Mmm, marshmallow and JD, my favourite camping treats. Give me a second, I wanna eat these first.”
He nodded, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig straight from the bottle while I carefully slid each of my re-roasted marshmallows off the stake and put them in my mouth.
“Mmm, so good,” I moaned with my mouth full, and then began licking the sticky goo from my fingers. I noticed it had suddenly become quiet and I looked up to see Damien staring at me with an odd look on his face. “What?” I asked self-consciously, my thumb still resting against my lower lip.
He shook his head once. “Nothin’. You still want some?” He held out the bottle again.
“Mm-hmm,” I said and took the bottle. I knocked back a hearty swig of my own, fighting the ‘whisky grimace’. “Wow, that’ll warm me up,” I rasped as I handed back the bottle. “Hell, I’m still feeling pretty good from Natalie’s Buttershots.”
“I don’t know how you girls drink that shit; Pucker, Buttershots, it’s like drinking goddamn syrup,” Damien muttered, taking another swig from his bottle.
My phone suddenly buzzed. I pulled it out of my sweatshirt pocket to see it was a text from Jarrod.
Try not to be hungover when you come home tomorrow. Dinner with my family.
Ugh. I was even less of a fan of Jarrod’s family than he was of my friends. I knew in my heart that I couldn’t marry into that brood of pretentious assholes; it was only one more reason I’d decided it was time to end things with him. No matter what I said or did, I was never going to be good enough for their precious Jarrod, though he was far from being as perfect as they seemed to think he was. It looked as though we were going to have that talk sooner rather than later, because I certainly had no intention of sitting through one more meal with any of them.
“How do you even have a signal out here anyway?” Damien asked.
I shrugged. “I’m gonna pretend I don’t have one, though.”
“Is it Jarrod?”
I nodded.
“And you’re ignoring him because…?”
“Because I am probably breaking up with him when we get back,” I finished. “Now that college is over, he wants to take that ‘next step’—move in together. He’s mentioned marriage, and…” I trailed off, not sure how to word it.
“And you don’t want that with him,” he finished for me.
“Pretty much.” I sighed and reached for the bottle. Damien handed it back and I took a sizeable swallow.
About the Author
I love all things book. I have a passion for creating stories—the more fantastic the better—and used to spend hours as a little girl drawing pages of pictures and then putting captions to them. I love reading and writing several different genres, but I recently put my more mainstream paranormal romances aside for naughtier tales.
I also enjoy music from Imogen Heap and Nine Inch Nails to Mozart, and love horror and sci-fi films from cheesy to terrifying. I must also confess that I am a huge LOTR (Lord of the Rings) geek.
I currently reside on the northern coast of Oregon, where the constant rain and fog reminds me of my visits to family in England and Scotland when I was a child.
Email:
[email protected]
Morticia loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.total-e-bound.com
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