Out here in the woods, there are no restrictions or boundaries or boxes we need to jump in.
We’re free to just be.
So I forget about back home and the final rose. It’s just right now in the present moment with them.
Akara sweeps me for a second. “We’re just waiting for you, Sul. We’re not going to push you or quicken your pace.”
I laugh at that. “Kits, you know my pace is far faster than yours.”
He scoots closer to me. So does Banks. My pulse thumps harder.
Akara slides his fingers over my ankle bracelet. His feather-light touch sends a shiver across my skin. “You can outpace both of us on foot, sure. But that’s not the kind of pace I’m talking about.”
That was…hot.
Heat envelops around me. Warmth—I want to reach out for it. It’s swimming in the air, but it’s not in me yet.
Banks skates a finger over my other ankle. His touch is just as frustratingly light as Akara’s. “It’s important that you set this pace, Sulli. We’re more experienced than you.” He pauses, then adds, “And if you wanna talk about it before we do anything—we can. It’s not something that has to be jumped into without a conversation.”
Akara nods. “Communication is important.”
I raise my brows even more.
He gives me a look. “Even if I can be shit at it sometimes, it’s important.”
Taking a breath, I set my hands on my knees. “You know it’s funny, I’m probably the most competitive person I know. And never once have I looked at sex as this thing to achieve. It’s never been a goal.”
“Do you still feel that way?” Akara asks, concern behind his brown eyes.
“Yeah, I fucking do.” I smile at that thought. “I want it because I know it’ll make me feel good, and I’ve always wanted that experience. But not until I found someone I was comfortable with. Not until now.” I run my thumb over my kneecap. “So it’s hard to figure out what pace I want because I enjoy sprinting more than marathon running. But for swimming, I chose the 200m and 400m freestyle over the 50m because I always felt like the 50m was too fast. It was over too quick, you know. Does that make fucking sense?”
Akara and Banks are grinning so wide that I feel like I said something utterly ridiculous.
My face roasts.
“String bean,” Akara says.
I humph at my awfully inaccurate nickname.
Smiling more, Akara continues on, “It won’t be over too quickly. If you lose your virginity to me or Banks, it’s going to last longer than a 50m.”
“How long is a 50m?” Banks asks, brows pulling together.
“Olympic pace,” Akara replies, “25 seconds.”
Banks’ face scrunches up. “What the hell? No one’s fucking you for just 25 seconds.”
I’m smiling like a fool. It’s nice being able to talk about sex without it being weird or uncomfortable. “Sex isn’t sprinting,” I say. “Got it.”
“Good sex,” Banks corrects.
What if I suck at it? I’ve thought about this before and it always causes a wave of panic. I’m so used to practicing and training, and sex isn’t something you can practice or train for. You just…do it. The first time could be a fucked-up disaster. But then again, that’s why I waited. So there was less risk of regretting my first time.
I bite the inside of my lip. “Alright,” I say. “So I choose a medium pace. Not too slow. Not too fast. 400m.”
Banks looks to Akara for clarification again.
“Sulli holds the world record,” he says. “Three minutes and thirty-three seconds.”
Banks’ smile reaches his eyes. “You’re losing me with the swimming metaphors, Sulli.” He cocks his head. “Just spell it out for me. Do you want me to go down on you?”
My pulse descends, responding before my words can.
“Yeah. I want that.”
Fuck yes.
His grip suddenly tightens on my ankle. And then Akara’s clutches my other ankle tighter. Together, they pull my legs down. My back hits the sleeping bag like a bed of feathers. I suck in a gasp, my hips already arching.
30
BANKS MORETTI
Before Yellowstone, I’ve never done anything sexual with a girl while another guy watched or was involved. Didn’t even contemplate it. But after the cougar attack, I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think about firsts or befores. It just felt right.
Like now.
It feels right.
And I go with my instincts and slide Sulli’s leggings down her thighs while Akara leans into her lips and kisses her deeply. My cock stirs, blood pumping vigorously south.
Watching them should piss me off. I should be red-hot in rage that he has his teeth between her bottom lip and his hand riding up her shirt.
But I see the way she drinks in the sensation, and her pleasure is my pleasure. Doesn’t matter if Akara’s the one giving it to her, I realize. Sulli isn’t the only one experiencing new things in this tent—all three of us are having very new experiences.