Fearless Like Us (Like Us 9)

My gaze tracks down Banks’ scruffy jaw to his dog tags against his white tee and the dark-blue drawstring pants that mold his big bulge way too perfectly.

He takes a hefty swig, then eyes my tits.

I glance down.

Fuck.

My nipples are pushing against my tank top. Totally visible, and I’m not sure anyone has ever aroused me as much as Akara and Banks can.

Once Akara sits back up, screws off the cap, his attention falls on my perked nipples. “Sullivan.” The deep, smooth register he uses to say my full name while he takes a strong sip of beer does a fucking number on my body.

His smile appears.

While cross-legged, I dig the heel of my foot between my legs, adding friction against my clit. Fuck, that feels good.

I can’t even lie about the room just being cold. For one, I want them to know I’m aroused. For another, I’m still way too uncomfortably hot from the mention of babies.

Moffy thinks it’s best to discuss that future now, but no part of me wants to resurface the topic. And I’m glad they don’t either. Maybe they, too, feel like it’s too early to bring those complications into the newness of a relationship.

Really, I need something to take my mind off that part of tonight. After a sip of beer, I ask, “How about we play a game?”

“I’m down,” Banks says.

“What kind?” Akara asks me.

I finish off the last drop of beer, then I place the bottle horizontally between us. “Spin the bottle.”

Banks breaks into more than just a shadowy smile, and Akara shares a grin with him before he asks me, “How long have you been waiting to play this one, Sul?”

It’s true that I always opted out. Not that there were many opportunities. Mostly just summer camp shenanigans. My first kiss, I hoped would be with more than just a stranger during a party game.

“Too long,” I smile, “but the time feels like now. My first fucking foray into spin the bottle with the two guys I trust most.” I shift a little closer. “Have you both ever played?”

Banks bobs his head. “Middle school.”

“Middle school,” Akara answers too. The way they soak me in, I know I’ve picked the best game right now. Having their lips on my lips sounds too good to be true.

“I figure we can stick with the original kissing version,” I tell them, voice a bit raspier. “But we need high stakes. I don’t like playing games without losers.”

“First to end the game loses,” Akara suggests. “Otherwise, we keep playing until someone forfeits.”

“I like it,” I say. “Quitters never win.”

Akara laughs. “A Sullivan Minnie Meadows motto to live by.” He drinks to that.

Banks looks between us. “So what happens to the loser?”

The first idea that pops into my head is risky. Really, it’d hurt me the worst if I lost, and maybe that’s why I offer it. “Loser has to stop cursing for a year.”

Banks whistles. “When you said high stakes, you weren’t joking.”

“Go big or go home.” I wag my brows, but the motion almost instantly reminds me of my mom. I try to maintain a smile, even though a sad pang thumps inside me.

Akara can tell, but thankfully he doesn’t mention the momentary sadness. “Lucky for you, Sulli, I only know how to go big.”

My smile returns.

“Akara ‘Going Big’ Kitsuwon,” Banks teases.

Akara taps Banks’ shoulder with the beer bottle. “Banks ‘Going Home’ Moretti.”

Banks slaps his friend’s chest. “Home is where the heart is.”

I snort into a laugh.

We’re all smiling, and Akara takes extra interest in the game. “We need one more rule,” he says. “What happens if the loser accidentally curses throughout the year? There has to be a consequence if they break the punishment.”

I shrug. “We’d have to slug the loser.”

“No,” Banks shakes his head to me. “If you lose, I’m not punching you.”

“In the arm?”

Banks scrapes his hand across his jaw, thinking, but more tensed. Akara has lightly slugged me back before, no problem, but my relationship with Banks isn’t playful wrestling and competition.

“I’m not losing anyway,” I assure him. “You or Akara are.”

“You hope,” Akara says into a sip of beer. Can he be any fucking sexier right now?

I pulse my heel a little between my legs, digging for more friction. Their gazes roam my body, mostly landing on my nipples and shallow breathing pattern.

Banks nods to me, “I’m rooting for you then, mermaid.”

“Just don’t lose on purpose. I need some competition.”

He has this gentle, affectionate expression that I fall into. “Alright. I’ll try to win for you.”

I breathe in his sweetness. I’ve fucking fallen so in love with him. My heart practically soars out of my body into Banks’ hands. We share a smile, and I say, “Let’s play.”

Akara nudges my knee with his foot. “Scoot closer, Sulli.”

Moving forward and keeping my legs crossed, the beer bottle and our sexual tension is the only thing separating us on the bed. After everything that happened today, I’m done talking.