“Then I’d better come a few more times,” she whispered.
Parker nodded seriously. “I guess you’d better.”
Chapter Six
Lynn’s apartment was dark when the three of them strode inside. As she dropped her purse on the hall table, Parker searched her face for any hint she’d changed her mind during the short car ride over, but a haze of lust continued to swirl in her eyes.
She still wanted this.
Thank frickin’ God. Because his close-to-exploding cock would never forgive him if he didn’t give it the relief it craved.
Beside him, Dean looked as sexually charged as he felt. A glance at his buddy’s cargo pants revealed the thick bulge beneath his zipper, which only thickened further when Lynn paused in front of them and started playing with the edge of her braid.
She was so beautiful Parker could spend the rest of his life staring at her. Perfect breasts rose and fell beneath the tight fabric of her tank top. Her light blue eyes shone in the sliver of moonlight seeping into the hall from the living room.
He couldn’t wait to touch her. No, forget touching. He was going to lick every square inch of her golden skin until she was moaning and begging to be fucked.
“Where’s the bedroom?” he growled.
Her throat bobbed as she visibly swallowed. “Do you want a drink first? I’ve got water, soda, coffee, tea, um…smoothies? I know I have a Magic Bullet somewhere—um, you know, the blender from all those infomercials? My parents got it for me for Christmas. I haven’t really used it, but if you guys want smoothies, I can try to…um…make some.”
A smile lifted the corners of Parker’s mouth. He found her nervous babbling completely enchanting.
“I think we’ll pass on the smoothies,” he said with a chuckle. “Dean?”
“Thanks, but I’m not very thirsty.” Dean’s lips quirked. “I’m pretty hungry, though.”
She snapped upright. “I can make you something to eat—”
“For you,” Parker cut in. “We’re hungry for you, babe.”
“Oh.” A blush rose on her cheeks.
“Absolutely famished,” Dean concurred. “With that said, we can either walk to your bedroom together, or…” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “How about we make a little game of it? You get a ten-second head start before we come chasing after you.”
She looked intrigued.
“And to make it even more interesting, you have to leave us a trail of naughty breadcrumbs,” Dean drawled.
“What kind of trail?” she asked slowly.
Parker met her eyes, then very obviously moved his gaze to her chest. “Hmmm. Her shirt would make a great breadcrumb, don’t you think, Dean?”
Dean nodded. “Very good idea, bro.”
Lynn went quiet before, ever so slowly, her hands moved to the bottom of her tank top.
Her hesitation was so strong, but right when Parker thought she might back down, an impish smile filled her beautiful face.
“I guess it would be kinda rude of me if I didn’t make sure you found the bedroom okay,” she murmured.
As both men watched, she drew the fabric over her chest, revealing a white bikini-style bra that made Parker’s mouth water more than any skimpy, lacy lingerie ever could. Lynn’s gaze focused downward, her fingers trembling as she raised the shirt higher. But when she glanced up again, the heat burning in her eyes was unmistakable.
“Ten seconds, huh?” she said.
They both nodded.
She pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it on the hardwood. “You’d better start counting.”
And then she was gone.
Parker swallowed, turning to Dean with a pained expression. “Has it been ten seconds yet?”
His buddy snickered. “Hasn’t even been one. Can anyone say overeager?”
“Right, like you’re not dying to sprint after her.”
He appreciated a woman who was adventurous between the sheets, but having Lynn step out of her comfort zone was even more attractive. There was nothing more aggravating than sleeping with someone who lay there and expected you to do all the work, or who balked at the suggestion of trying anything other than the missionary position.
Her willingness to be more daring than usual made him all the more determined to make the evening explosive for her.
“And…ten,” Dean murmured.
The two men bounded forward. Their eagerness might have been comical, but Parker wasn’t worried about coming off as desperate.
He was worried about coming, period.
And making Lynn come.
Over and over again.
They found her jeans in the living room, a tangle of denim on the floor, silver button winking in the shard of light slicing through the gap in the curtains.
Five steps away, they were greeted by an ankle sock. Five steps later, the other sock.
In the doorway of the shadowy hallway, Parker glimpsed Lynn’s bra dangling from the edge of a framed photograph of a field of pale blue flowers.