Love is a Battlefield (DreamMakers #2)

He pushed his hips forward ever so slightly, the two of them staring down at where they connected. His thick cock disappeared with difficulty into her tight passage, every inch of Dean’s length felt even more fully as Jack stuffed into her.

“I’m going to explode,” Pepper gasped. Her gaze shot up to meet Jack’s as he worked his way in. All the way, every inch of pleasurable torment.

And then he fucked her. Thrusting forward hard, pulling back out as Dean joined in his limited way, but all three of them were moved on every rock. Jack’s drives were hard enough to make groans of pleasure escape both Dean and Pepper’s throats.

Through it all, Jack watched her. Dean was there—oh, there was no denying Dean was there—but they were together. Pepper and Jack, as he made her fantasy come true.

The orgasm hit as if every cell in her body wanted to melt, and Pepper leaned back on Dean’s chest, letting the men hold her in position as she reveled in the sheer decadence.

Jack’s eyes burned into her even as his face creased in pleasure and he came, he and Dean shouting as they found release as well.

Pepper found her arms wrapped around Jack as he nuzzled the side of her face. Behind her, Dean was doing the same to her opposite side, and she was surrounded and still filled.

“Holy Toledo, did I pass out?”

“I don’t know,” Dean muttered. “I just got back from an extended trip into outer space. Man, the stars are bright today.”

She laughed, accepting the feather-light kisses Jack was dancing over her face. “That was fun,” she said boldly. “What do you guys do for an encore?”

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure something out,” Jack promised.

Pepper eyed the clock beside the bed and wondered exactly when the pleasure overload would hit.

Finding out was going to be an extraordinary experiment.





Dean





“About time you showed up, Jonesy.” Dean tried to muster up some irritation, but he was so genuinely happy to see the traffic-stopping blonde who strolled up to his table that all he could do was grin.

Truth was, he looked forward to these regular get-togethers with Suz. For a man with enough notches to fill up a dozen belts, sex was a commonplace occurrence. A platonic friendship with a member of the female gender? That was a first for him. But Susanna Jones had quickly become one of his closest friends ever since she’d swept into his life like a hurricane. He’d first met her as his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend, but these days he sometimes felt closer to Suz than he did to Parker, what with Lynn taking up most of Parker’s free time.

“Hey you.” Suz dropped a kiss on the top of his head before sinking into the chair across from him on the patio table of the bay-front restaurant. She slung her oversize purse over the back of her chair, then lifted the movie-starlet sunglasses that had been shielding her face.

Dean snickered when he saw her bloodshot eyes. “Ah, and the puzzle pieces slide together. Hungover, are we?”

Suz ran a hand through her wavy blonde hair and groaned softly. “You don’t know the half of it. Note to self—never, ever let a total stranger talk you into a shooter contest. I got hustled, Colter. She drank me under the table.”

“She?” His eyebrows soared in delight. “Oh, God, please, please tell me you took a walk on the girl side last night.”

Red-blooded horndog that he was, he couldn’t stop the naughty girl-on-girl images from flooding his mind. With the way his dick hardened painfully, you’d think he hadn’t gotten laid in months, when a mere week ago he’d had a mind-blowing threesome resulting in too many orgasms to count.

“I did enough of that in college,” Suz said in response to his remark. Or maybe plea was more accurate. “No, this was a nonsexual drinking fest. Last night was that fashion show I told you about a while ago. I was covering it for the paper, and a few of the designers invited me to the after party. I swear, you’d be all over this chick I met. She was a ton of fun. Smoking hot, too.”

“I hope you told her all about your gorgeous best friend and how great he is in bed,” Dean teased.

Suz rolled her eyes. “Sorry, babe, but no. We were too busy drinking and flirting with the non-gay designers at the party. All one-point-five of them.”

Their waiter approached the table to take Suz’s drink order, and Dean didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes lingered on her out-of-this-world rack, which was practically pouring out of the low-cut neckline of her shirt. Susanna Jones was sex personified. He would’ve hit that a long time ago, if the woman didn’t remind him so much of himself. Somehow, sleeping with Suz would feel…weird. Obviously she agreed, because neither one of them had ever tried stepping out of the friend zone.