Darcy and I have been friends forever, so when we plan a kid-free getaway with our husbands, we’re expecting the same relaxing, stress-free time we always have together.
What we don’t expect is a rental with walls so thin we hear everything happening in the other room.
Or how hot it is to hear Darcy and Alec get it on—to imagine the actions going along with those sounds, to try and guess who’s doing what to whom.
As the week goes on, we can’t deny our growing attraction to our best friends—I can’t stop checking Darcy out, and Rafe’s gaze keeps drifting over to Alec.
And they’re looking too.
When we get home we're soaked to the bone, wet clothes clinging to our bodies.
I can see Alec’s pecs and Rafe’s back muscles flex under his. And fuck, Darcy’s white shirt is now essentially see-through. I can see the lace edges of her bra. I can make out the tops of her breasts where they slope down gently. I can even almost feel the weight of her in my hands, and how she’d fit so perfectly into my palm.
I saw her in a bra the first day after padiddle, and I’ve seen plenty of cleavage over the past few days thanks to her swimsuits. I saw hard nipples under a silk tank top this morning, but this, this is what almost breaks my resolve.
“We should change into dry clothes,” Alec says, and once again I’m saved from doing something stupid.
“Do you want me to talk you into it, or out of it?” Rafe asks again when we’re alone in our bathroom and I shrug because what I want to do and what I should do are more at war than I ever remember them being.
Gemma Blythe writes stories about love, sex, and the intimacy that’s found when the two come together. Her love of romance blossomed in high school when unrequited crushes led her to seek happily ever afters in books and movies.
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Sounds like a good read.
ReplyDeleteSounds really great
ReplyDeleteIt sounds really good, thanks for sharing it!
ReplyDelete