Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)
Page 135
Not exactly an idea. I thought his back might hurt sooner or later, and came prepared.
My bag is still standing inside the hallway where I dropped it when we arrived. I go and carry it back into the living room, then rummage inside for the warming gel.
“What the hell are you doing?” he grumbles, then starts when Brylee strokes his face and brushes dark hair off his forehead. “Huh?”
She lies down beside him and kisses him, long and sweet.
Shit, my pants are getting smaller. And tighter. And damn uncomfortable.
But that’s a good idea. Relax him first. At least that’s what I tell myself as I settle down behind him and slip my hand under his sweater to stroke his flat stomach and his sides. His skin is so warm. Smooth.
“Ryan.” He tenses, jerking his head around to see me, and tries to roll over.
Then he stiffens, but the sound he makes doesn’t sound like pleasure.
In fact, it sounds more like “motherfucking hell.”
Shit.
“Sweater and T-shirt off,” I tell him, grabbing the gel tube. “Back rub time.”
His gaze widens. “What?”
“Oh yes.” Brylee’s eyes light up and she claps her hands together. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Riddick grunts, but one side of his mouth quirks up.
The warmth from the fire licks at my back as I help Riddick out of his sweater. He really seems uncomfortable, and I don’t like how my chest tightens at the thought. Then his T-shirt comes off, too, and I help him lie on his stomach, while Brylee uncaps the tube.
She stills, staring down at Riddick, her eyes dark with desire, her face flushed, and I take a moment to look my fill, too. His dark hair curls a little at his nape and over his ears, giving him a boyish air.
Nothing boyish about his broad back, though. Inked, muscular and perfect, it gleams in the golden, shifting light, tapering down to narrow hips and a taut ass that fills out his jeans damn beautifully.
I lick my lips.
Then suck in a sharp breath, because Brylee leans over him, spreading gel over his back, and the sight of her hourglass figure, her full tits and her round, heart-shaped ass, get me rock hard.
Fuck, I’d pay good money to see her ride him. Or to see him pound into her. Or—
“Lower,” Riddick breathes, and my own breath catches as she slides her hands down to the small of his back. “Lower.”
Without a word, I reach under him to undo the button and lower his zipper. He rolls slightly to the side, giving me access, his pale gray eyes heavy-lidded. My hand brushes over a sizeable hard-on.
I lift my brows at him. Going commando?
Red tinges his cheekbones again, and he gives a light hiss when I yank his pants down, exposing his perfect ass.
He settles back on his belly, shifting to accommodate his erection, his long lashes dipping, and I put my hands on his ass, unable to hold back any longer.
Why was I holding back in the first place?
Brylee sends me a flash of a grin as she slides her hands down, to meet mine, on those muscular ass cheeks.
“All right, girl?” I ask her, and she laughs breathlessly. “Enjoying yourself so far?”
“This part wasn’t in the vacation brochure,” she says in a mocking serious tone.
“I’m sure there was a ‘hands-on experiences’ line.”