Roni Loren - Not Until You

Be a good girl or you won’t be part of this family anymore. My father had never stated it that way, but the sentiment had hung in the household like a stench you couldn’t air out. And now here I was putting myself into the hands of two men, giving them a laundry list of sins I’d like to commit.

Foster’s fingers laced with mine, and he pulled me closer to him, dragging me from my swirling thoughts. He brushed my hair away from my face and graced me with a smile that sent warmth bleeding through me. “You’re panicking already, angel. Don’t. There’s no need.”

The endearment and soft tone were like soothing strokes to my climbing anxiety. He probably called girls angel all the time. I wasn’t under the delusion that I was any different than the women I’d heard in their apartment over the last two years. But something about the way he said it, the reverence in it, made me want to curl into him, to block out the harsh voice in my head.

“Is it okay that I’m a little scared?” I asked, offering my own attempt at a smile.

He cradled my face, his blue eyes seeming to read me as if every emotion were printed in permanent marker on my forehead. “It’s all right to be scared of the unknown, to be nervous about exploring things you’ve only thought about in private moments. But you don’t have to be scared of us.”

Pike stepped up behind Foster. “He’s right, doc.”

“But I have no idea what I’m doing. I want this, but I know I’m in over my head,” I said, the men’s stark gazes pulling blatant honesty out of me.

Foster chuckled. “Lucky for you, there isn’t anything I like more than being in charge and giving directions.”

Pike smirked. “No truer words have ever been spoken.”

“Come on.” Foster’s grip tightened on my fingers, and Pike came around to flank my opposite side, grabbing my other hand. “Your only instruction for tonight is going to be an easy one to follow.”

One instruction? My mind flipped through possible scenarios like a day calendar in a wind gust as Foster and Pike led me down the stairs and through the crowd on the bottom floor. What would they expect from me? What if they asked me to do something I couldn’t handle or didn’t know how to do? What if they laughed at me like the frat guy had my sophomore year?

Pike retrieved my purse from the coat check stand, and by the time the three of us finally pushed through the doors and the night air hit us, my nerves were gnawing at me, chewing through my resolve. I glanced back and forth between the two guys, but neither was giving anything away.

The valet hailed a cab and Pike climbed in. I peeked over at Foster, gathering courage. “Can I ask what my one instruction is going to be?”

He grinned and pressed his lips against my ear as he guided me toward the cab. “To show us exactly how much pleasure you can take before you beg us to stop.”

“Oh,” I whispered, my insides liquefying.

He slid into the cab next to me, pressing me against Pike. Pike draped his arm around me, and Foster laid a hand along my exposed thigh.

“The Hotel St. Mark, please,” Foster said to the driver.

“Hotel?” I asked.

He traced a small, sensuous circle along my inner thigh, making me think of gentle tongues and nips of teeth moving higher. My sex clenched.

“Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Chapter 6

I was in a cab on the way to a hotel with Foster and Pike. Foster and Pike . I kept blinking, staring out at the road in front of me, wondering if the whole scene was going to fade before my eyes. Maybe I’d passed out drunk in my apartment and was hallucinating. Could you hallucinate from alcohol? Because surely this couldn’t be me—Cela, the high school valedictorian, the no-I-can’t-go-out-tonight-because-I-have-to-study good girl. Nice girls like that didn’t get in a car with two sexy, older guys for a one-night stand—a one-night threesome . Shit. This was crazy.

Cuh-razy.

I’d never been so simultaneously excited and nervous in my entire life. But despite all the implications about what kind of girl this made me, I found myself desperately hoping that this wasn’t some dream, that it truly was real.

“You okay?” Foster asked me after giving the driver instructions.

I nodded, though the move felt stiff and jerky. “You bet.”

He chuckled quietly and settled in, his hand resting casually on my knee. His mouth dipped close to my ear. “Breathe, Cela.”

“Trying,” I whispered, my heart stuttering at the warm feel of his skin on mine. Pike stretched his arm over the back of the seat and sent me a reassuring smile.

I closed my eyes and inhaled a long, deep breath before opening them again. Surprisingly, it seemed to help a bit. Well, that and the fact that the guys seemed to refuse to let me be anxious for long. I expected the cab ride to be tense, the question— Am I really going to do this? —on thunderous repeat in my head. But with Foster’s hand caressing my thigh and Pike’s fingers teasing the hair at my nape, I was losing myself in the rising tide of hormones. The nerves were siphoning off with each gentle touch, each caress. And the question of Am I going to do this? transformed into if not now, why not? It wasn’t like I could find guys I was more attracted to. And they weren’t going to pressure me. If I didn’t like something or changed my mind, they would stop. I knew that in my gut. This was my chance to have a fantasy night, and I’d be stupid not to take advantage of it.

Internal pep talk complete, I relaxed against the seat, Foster’s and Pike’s body heat bookending me, their combined scents like bottled sex and man. Mmm .

Foster smiled down at me. “Feeling better?”

“Getting there,” I said as I closed my eyes, my voice taking on a dreamlike quality even to my own ears. No longer was I thinking of the past, my lack of experience, or what kind of girl this supposedly made me. All I was thinking about was twisted hotel sheets, naked skin, and feeling these two guys against me, on top of me… inside me. Even thinking those last two words gave me a hard shiver, a heady cocktail of desire and fear filtering through my blood.

Foster’s hand drifted higher, the strokes against my thigh deceptively light. If the cabbie turned and peeked back, Foster’s touch would look like an afterthought, casual. But the soft, circular glides were a silent, relentless assault on my starved libido. I ached for more, for the intensity I sensed lurking in this man. Foster’s touch moved even higher, and as if acting on their own volition, my knees parted a bit further than was appropriate.

I opened my eyes, surprised by my own involuntary response, and caught the hint of Foster’s smile in my peripheral vision. He kept his eyes forward as he asked the cab driver a question, but his pinky snuck beneath my dress and grazed my satin panties.

Oh, Lord . A hot ripple of heat sizzled up and outward. I bit my lip to keep from gasping. This was not happening. Couldn’t be.

Pike joined in the conversation with the driver—something about the basketball finals maybe—but I couldn’t be sure. My brain was in reboot.

Foster’s hand disappeared beneath my dress again, this time more boldly. If the driver really looked back now, he’d know something was up. I set my purse on my knees, blocking the view. Foster’s fingertip dragged across the damp satin, finding my hot button through the thin fabric and circling around it.

My muscles tensed like I’d been Tasered, and my fingernails curled into the leather of my purse. Pike’s hand cupped my neck and squeezed, letting me know that even if he was carrying on a mundane conversation, he knew exactly what Foster was doing to me and how my body was responding.