Unwrapping Holly

“The Notebook.”

The guys both rolled their eyes in tandem. “No fucking way.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, I’m kidding.” I flipped Donovan the remote. “Here. I don’t care, really. You pick something.”

Donovan’s eyes lit up? “Really? So I can pick Predator?”

Brody jumped onto the couch, landing in Jocelyn’s usual spot. “Ohhh…” he sighed happily. “I could totally go for some Predator!”

It was my first real mistake of the evening. I wasn’t even counting my mistaken text to Brody, because that happy little accident had resulted in a really fun night.

In the end we settled on Die Hard, which the guys argued technically was a Christmas movie. Nestled comfortably on the couch between them in my favorite sweat-shorts, I quickly found that I didn’t care. I was happy just to be with them. Just glad to have them here with me, enjoying my place, smoothing out the rough edges of our imperfect little perfect date.

One of them turned the lights low. Donovan fixed us some drinks while I microwaved some popcorn, and soon Brody and I were munching away while Donovan went over the laundry list of synthetic chemicals we really shouldn’t be putting into our bodies.

It could’ve been the music, the drink, the warmth of the big blanket I’d pulled over us — maybe a combination of all three. Soon however, my attention was drifting away from the movie. I began stretching out, laying my head in Brody’s lap. Resting my legs over Donovan’s, groaning with pleasure as he began rubbing my feet through my fuzzy socks.

At some point they began tickling me, and I rolled off onto the floor. I was a giggling mess, ready to fight back, when Brody announced he had to use the bathroom.

I felt a gentle hand beneath my chin, and suddenly Donovan was kissing me. All the flirtatiousness, all the passion and longing — an entire night’s worth of buildup — had led to this one, singular moment.

Holy shit…

His kiss was rough and strong. Soulfully delicious. I found myself melting into him, rising up onto my knees to grind my body against his hard chest. We were already only half-clothed. We’d stripped off most of our stuff when we came in from the rain.

“I need you.”

Donovan’s voice was urgent, even desperate. Kneeling at his feet, I was shocked to see he was already fully hard. He dragged me between his legs, which were spread eagle from his seat on the couch. Then he took my hand and closed it over his manhood, which had somehow been drawn through the front of his boxers.

I gasped from my hands and knees, stopping to glance back at the darkened hallway. Slowly but commandingly, he guided my head downward.

“We can’t…” I whispered. “Brody’s still—”

He took over control, pressing his cock against my lips. Reflexively, I opened halfway.

Can we?

Our gazes met, his eyes soft but unflinching. I saw challenge in them. Like he was daring me to keep going.

“I… we…”

Donovan thrust his hips forward, and the head of his cock popped into my mouth. At the same time, he took one of my hands and placed it over his hard, rippled abdominals.

“That’s a dirty trick,” I mumbled around him.

“All’s fair,” he shrugged.

I sighed happily, my fingers moving on their own as they roamed his beautiful, flawless stomach. Somehow I was still blowing him. Still moving my head up and down in the semi-darkness, enjoying the power that came with bringing him all the way into my throat.

Down the hallway I was dimly aware of a sink running. It stopped, and I heard a door open. I tried to move…

Holly, get up!

But Donovan’s two hands still rested gently on my head.

You have to—