Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

“Swallow me down, baby,” I murmur. “It feels good.”

He hums around my dick just as his hand rubs my balls that are slick from his saliva. I curse at the abrupt way I come. Cum jets down his throat and it’s the most divine feeling. With each pulse of my dick, his throat constricts. Once I’m spent, he slides off my dick. I take a moment to admire this handsome guy. His lips are wet and swollen, hazel eyes half-lidded. Dark hair is mussed from my mishandling and his chin is wet. Super fucking hot.

A smug grin curls his lips up. “Who won?”

He knows he did.

Just wait until Drew learns to deep throat like that. I know my best friend. He’ll compete until he’s the fucking champion. Rather than giving Ashton what he wants, I shrug.

“It’s a tie,” I say with a smirk, dipping to kiss his mouth. “Guess you guys will have to continue to battle it out.”

“Sonofabitch,” Ashton states. “You play dirty, man. It’s a good thing I play dirtier.”Mia flips through every damn Netflix show she can find before settling on something that’s in fucking subtitles. Ashton groans and Drew chuckles.

“We need a bigger couch,” I say, twirling a long strand of Mia’s hair.

She’s curled up in my lap with her feet in Ashton’s lap as he gives them a massage. Drew’s on the other end of the couch, his arm around Ashton. We barely fucking fit.

Mia’s phone buzzes and she reads the text, groaning. Since I can see, I read it too.

Mom: A reminder that the California Actors’ League Winter Soiree is in two weeks. I expect you to be there. I’ve ordered a stunning ice-blue Vera Wang ball gown in your size. That is, if that’s still your size. If not, call Dayna about some weight loss supplements. I can’t make a change this close to the event.

“What a bitch,” I grumble.

Ashton grabs Mia’s phone to read the text. “Tell her you’re in great shape from fucking all your boyfriends.” He tosses it at Drew.

“Delusional-ass woman,” Drew complains after he reads the text, handing it back to Mia. “Ignore her.”

The phone buzzes in Mia’s hands.

Mom: Will you bring the same young man again? I’ll need to accurately RSVP if you intend to bring a plus one.

“Tell her you’re bringing a plus three,” Ashton gripes when she shows him the text.

She sits up. “You want to go?”

“To fuck with your mom and support you? Hell yeah,” Ashton states. “They’ll come too.”

“Of course I’ll be there,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Just like last time. I’ve got your back.”

She turns her attention to Drew. He frowns, a sad as fuck look on his face.

“Mia,” he mutters. “I’ll come too, but…”

“You can’t be seen at such a public event because of your position,” she says, reaching for his hand. “But you’ll still come? We can stay at a hotel together. The four of us.”

He pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “I can do that. The event itself, I can’t, though. I hate that. I want to be there to help protect you from your wicked witch mother.”

“As long as you’re waiting for us when the dumb thing is over, I’ll be happy.” She beams at him and then texts her mother back.

Mia: Plus two.

Mom: Two? Whatever. Make sure they know it’s a black-tie affair. Don’t embarrass me.

“I can’t wait to meet Mommy Dearest,” Ashton says in a sinister tone. “Cannot fucking wait.”

“Are you going to be good?” Mia asks, poking him with her foot.

“MiMi, I think we both know the answer to that question.” He playfully bites her toe and then we go back to watching the dumb show we have to pay extra close attention to so we know what the fuck is going on.

Everyone goes quiet and the mood is content.

I could get used to this.

Every damn day.Two Weeks LaterI want to bite her ass.

It’s delectable as fuck. The light blue, sparkling evening gown she was supposed to wear was waiting in concierge when we arrived at the hotel. Shoes. Accessories. A goddamn stylist. I’d been pissed to watch Mia transform into this doll for dressing up, but when they finished, my dick wasn’t pissed at all.

Mia is the hottest goddamn woman to walk the face of the earth.

Even now, as I follow behind her and Brayden into the fancy-ass hotel this event is at, I only have eyes for her. The other women—celebrities I recognize well—don’t hold a candle to my girl. Our girl. Brayden is proud as fuck to have her on his arm. I’d be on the other side, but she seemed nervous and I didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, I’m enjoying the view of her perfect ass.

“Cristal?” a man asks, holding a tray filled with champagne flutes.