A minute later, Jen returned with a carton of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl and a spoon. Rather than rejoin them on the couch, she settled in one of the recliners, as if a distance of four feet would succeed in alleviating the hot promise of sex thickening the air. She stuck her spoon into the carton, her gaze darting from Cash to Dylan, her cheeks an enticing shade of pink.
Cash glanced at the game flashing on the screen, but found he could no longer concentrate. Jen and Dylan were now engaged in an unmistakable eye fuck that should’ve made him jealous, but didn’t.
“You know, sitting all the way over there won’t save you, Blondie,” Dylan said lightly. “You opened this can of worms.”
“Why, because I dared to say the word threesome?”
“Yep.”
Jen glanced at Cash as if to ask for help.
He shrugged. “Sorry, sweetheart. I warned you he’s a slut.”
Looking frazzled, she swallowed another spoonful of ice cream. Cash was tempted to march over and kiss her. Her lips would be cold from the ice cream, but he’d warm them up, no problem. Nibble on that plump bottom lip for a bit. Lick his way into her mouth and taste the chocolate and strawberries on her tongue.
He quelled the urge. Truthfully, he was curious to see how far she’d let this go. He hadn’t been lying before—he found threesomes hot as hell. He knew some men didn’t like sharing, but Cash didn’t see it that way. A woman’s pleasure mattered more to him than his own, which was why he’d been so appalled to hear that Jen’s former lovers hadn’t bothered to make her come. Hearing a female cry out in orgasm was the ultimate turn-on for him, and he knew from experience that women lost their fucking minds when they had two men dedicated to driving them over the edge.
And he knew the idea intrigued Jen. She’d dropped so many hints about it she might as well have advertised her curiosity about ménages on a billboard.
“Come back to the couch,” Dylan urged.
Jen’s gorgeous breasts heaved as she drew in shallow breaths. “I’m good here, thanks.”
She scooped out some more ice cream, and all the blood in Cash’s body pooled in his groin as he watched her suck on that spoon.
“What’ll it take to get you back here?” Dylan asked with a taunting lilt in his voice.
Once more, Jen turned to Cash.
He suppressed a laugh. “Hey, you were the one who gave me the rock-your-world and try-new-things speech. Everything that happens next is up to you, sweetheart.”
She gulped.
Dylan patted the couch cushion. “Your call, honey. But know that Cash and I have a lot of experience in pleasing a woman.”
Cash sized up her expression, noting the temptation flaring in her eyes. She wanted this. Anyone could see it. All the same, he refused to push her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with, and he knew Dylan wouldn’t be insulted if she chose not to go through with it.
But he hadn’t anticipated his friend’s determination to lure Jen to the ménage side.
“Well, if you won’t join us, maybe we’ll just have to entertain ourselves,” Dylan announced.
Uh, what?
Dylan slid across the couch toward Cash.
He blinked. “What are you doing?”
“Fulfilling the lady’s fantasy.” Dylan was so close Cash could smell the guy’s aftershave, see the five o’clock shadow rising on his chiseled jaw.
“I think you’ve had a little too much to drink,” Cash said gruffly. When his buddy’s hand reached for his zipper, his brows shot up. “You can’t be serious.”
Hiss. Dylan dragged down the zipper, shooting him a look loaded with an unexpected amount of heat. “Come on, McCoy, you know I’m a firm believer in the try-anything-once philosophy.”
Next thing he knew, his friend’s hand slid beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and…yup, Dylan’s fingers were wrapping around his shaft. Which hardened. Like instantly. And not just in a semi, look-at-that-someone’s-touching-me way. His cock went stiffer than a flagpole, rising from zero to full mast in two seconds flat.
His gaze flew to Jen, whose eyes had grown wide. Her mouth slackened as if she couldn’t fathom the scene in front of her.
He couldn’t quite fathom it either, but God help him, he couldn’t seem to stop it. When Dylan squeezed his shaft, his body arched involuntarily, his erection eagerly jutting into that callused hand. A drop of precome beaded at the tip of his cock, and he saw Jen’s eyes fix on that pearly drop.
“You like it,” she accused, sounding both awed and aroused.
“He likes it,” Dylan confirmed with a chuckle.
The base of his spine began tingling as Dylan jacked his cock. His friend’s hand was bigger, rougher than a woman’s, his strokes more forceful. But it didn’t hurt. Oh no, Dylan knew exactly how much pressure to exert, which didn’t surprise Cash—he supposed only a man would know how much force another man could take.
What did surprise him was his visceral reaction to the feel of that strong, masculine grip on his dick. Mouth dry, pulse racing, palms damp. Dylan kept pumping his cock, squeezing the head on each upstroke. It felt so damn good, Cash let out a groan.