Chapter 168: Jake
She’s between us, soft and warm and already so damn flushed, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this wound up in my entire life.
Reid has her pulled back against him, his hand on her hip, keeping her steady, while I’m in front of her, watching every little change in her face. The flush in her cheeks. The way her lips part, like she’s trying to catch her breath. The slight tremble in her thighs where she kneels, bare now, nothing between her and us except that thin long-sleeved shirt—my shirt, technically—but at the moment, it’s in the way. I lean in and kiss her collarbone, then higher, just under her jaw. She tilts her head to give me access like it’s instinct, and I swear under my breath.
Reid is holding her like he owns her, and maybe he does, but so do I. That’s the thing—she belongs to both of us, and she knows it.
She gasps when he grinds against her, just the smallest motion, just enough to remind her how hard he is for her. Her eyes flutter open and she looks over her shoulder at him, then back to me, wide and wild with need. I cup her cheek, drag my thumb along her bottom lip. She kisses it, soft and slow, and I feel like I might actually lose my mind.
“I need this off,” I murmur, tugging gently at the hem of her shirt. “Can I?”
She nods, barely. Her breath hitches.
Reid helps her from behind, careful with her ribs, peeling it up inch by inch, exposing more and more skin until the fabric lifts over her head and gets tossed aside. And now she’s in nothing but those dark blue lace panties, body bare and vulnerable and fucking perfect between us.
“Jesus,” I whisper, voice rougher than I meant. My hand finds her waist, trails up along the line of her ribs—careful—before settling just under the swell of her breast. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Reid brushes his mouth along her shoulder from behind. “It’s not just you.”
She shivers between us. Not from cold—this is something else. Her body trembles, like she doesn’t know what to do with all the attention, all the heat we’re pouring into her. She’s quiet, but it’s not a hesitation. She wants this. Wants us. And I’d never take that lightly.
She leans forward, kisses me again—deeper this time. Her hands find my chest, the side of my throat, and then she fists the sheets next to me like she needs to hold onto something solid. I bite back a groan and grip her tighter, letting my mouth drag across her jaw, down her neck, back to the hollow of her throat.
Behind her, Reid murmurs something low against her skin, something I can’t hear but that makes her knees shift and her lips part in another gasp. He’s got his hand on her stomach now, splayed wide and possessive, holding her to him like he’ll never let her go.
And he won’t. Neither will I.
She’s panting now, her chest rising and falling fast. Her lashes flutter, and she makes a soft, broken sound when I nip her throat. Her whole body presses tighter between ours, all soft curves and aching heat and absolute trust, and it makes something brutal and reverent rise up in my chest at once.
She’s not a summer thing.
She’s not a maybe.
She’s ours. And this is just the beginning.
She’s already breathless, mouth parted, eyes flickering between the two of us like she doesn’t know who to kiss next. Her skin’s warm, soft, and mine. Ours. And it’s driving me half-mad. There's something sinful about her nearly naked body between the two of us fully dressed.
Reid’s got his hand low on her waist, pulling her back into him, and I can see the way his fingers flex, tightening slightly every time she shifts. She can feel him — all of him — and I know that’s exactly what he wants. No more pretending. No more careful distance. No more waiting.
I reach up and cup her jaw, tilting her face toward me again. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips parted, still glossy from kissing Reid. I kiss her deep, slower than I want to, just so I can savor the low whimper she gives me when I slide my tongue against hers. My free hand moves up — from her rib cage, over the gentle curve of her side, the dip between her ribs and waist — until I reach the swell just under her arm. I thumb lightly beneath the arch there, drawing goosebumps in my wake.
Behind her, Reid’s shifted closer. I can hear the rough exhale he lets out when he slides his hand from her hip down to the crease of her thigh, slow and measured, as if he's memorizing the length of her. She gasps into my mouth again and breaks the kiss, her head tipping back onto Reid’s shoulder, exposing the long line of her throat.
God.
I don’t wait. I lean forward and kiss her neck, but not gently this time — not a soft brush. I claim it, slow and firm, right where it meets her shoulder. Her breath hitches. She arches a little against both of us. Her hair’s a mess around her shoulders now, but I don’t care. I push it aside and trail my lips lower — the hollow of her collarbone, just above her chest, where I can feel her heartbeat going wild.
Reid’s voice comes low and dark in her ear. “You like having both of us on you, don’t you.”
She nods, breathless.
I move closer, tucking my thigh between hers, the heat of her skin pressed to mine. Her panties are damp now, no mistaking it.
“You’re driving us fucking insane, sweetheart,” I murmur, brushing my lips over the curve of her breast.
She lets out a shaky breath, and I swear, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.
Reid lifts her gently, one arm looping under her thigh to angle her a bit more, turning her so she’s half-facing him now — and she kisses him like she needs it to breathe. Her hands go to his shoulders, his neck, and I take in the sight of her — flushed and desperate, soft skin against his hard chest, tangled up in both of us like she belongs here.
And she does. She always has.
My hand slips lower, dragging down the line of her spine, down over the curve of her hip, until I reach that tiny band of lace again. I press a kiss just above it, right where her hipbone peaks out, and I feel her jolt in Reid’s arms.
“You’re not cold anymore,” Reid says into her mouth, his hand splayed wide against her ribs. “You’re burning.”
“Because of you,” she whispers.
I kiss the inside of her thigh. She lets out a sound — a broken little moan — and I look up, breathless.