Offside (The Barker Triplets 1)

He knew what was going to happen next and his entire body was hot and rank with the need to bury himself inside her. That’s all he could think about. Right or wrong, there you had it.

Billie-Jo naked in his bed, between his legs, his cock buried deep inside her. Her body responding to his, making that fucking noise that drove him crazy.

He closed the door behind him and she was there, her body pressed against him, her chest crushed to his as her arms reached for him.

And then he opened her mouth with his and kissed her until his head spun. Her tongue met his, teeth gnashed, lips were suckled and when his hands rode the round ass that had been begging for it since she’d stepped off that bottom stair in her house, she groaned into him.

Logan easily lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around him. For the longest time the two of them strained against each other in the dark. Hands touching through clothes, under clothes…mouths open and hot, tongues thrusting.

When he eventually came up for air, Logan realized a few things. One—his back was gonna seize unless he found something to lie down on—preferably a bed. And two—he’d never been this horny in his entire life. Never.

Slowly, he let her slide down the length of his body, hissing a little as she rubbed against his aching cock. He smoothed a long, wisp of hair away from her cheek, cupped her face between his hands and bent toward her, sliding the merest whisper of a kiss across her lips.

She was hot, her skin moist and in his mind the solution to that was simple. Her clothes needed to be on the floor.

“Are you sure about this, Billie?”

Her eyes shimmered like a million diamonds sat inside them. She glanced downward, exhaling as she did so. He gripped her chin, suddenly concerned. Had he moved too fast?

“Hey?”

She moved her head to the right, just enough so that she could suck on this forefinger, and if his cock was near to bursting before? It was way past the point of no return now.

“I want you,” she said huskily. And then a little more forcefully as she stepped away. “Now.”

He scooped her into his arms and made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He flipped the light switch—because there was no way in hell he was [i]not[i] going to see her—and then dimmed it a bit to a softer, more romantic hue.

She moaned in his arms, her head buried in his neck and all he could think about was how fucking hot she was and how amazing she smelled. Her hair was the softest thing he’d ever felt and he nuzzled the mess that was just under his chin as he walked toward his king size bed.

Weird was curled into a ball, right in the middle of the mattress. He bent—careful not to drop Billie—and tugged on the cover. Hard.

The cat woke up, his one good eye blinking slowly, and then he rose into the classic cat pose—spine curved as he stretched languidly. The cat’s tail flickered back and forth, as if he had all the time in the world, which, usually he did, but not tonight. Logan tugged so hard on the cover that Weird nearly lost his footing. The cat meowed, a loud, un-happy meow, and hopped onto the chest at the foot of the bed. Weird’s tail snaked out before it settled around his body as he sat and looked at Logan with interest.

Logan glanced back toward the bed and then back to the cat. Whatever floats your boat, my friend.

Billie groaned once more and he realized her fingers had dug into his shoulders as if she was holding on for life.

“Oh,” she mumbled.

Was something wrong? Maybe her groan didn’t sound so much like a passionate moan but more like a—

“Oh shit, Logan my stomach.” She wriggled, flung her arm back and groaned once more as he lowered her to his bed. Her eyes opened briefly while he smoothed another chunk of hair from her forehead. She was hot and clammy and…

She and rolled over. “I feel gross,” she said haltingly. “My head is spinning and my stomach, uh.”

Logan stood and rotated his shoulders, exhaling loudly as he stared down at the prone figure in the middle of his bed.

“Billie?”

She moved her head and then groaned again, mumbling something he didn’t understand, though he didn’t really need to.

Billie-Jo Barker was drunk. Drunk and passed out in his bed.

Weird meowed and hopped back onto the mattress, where he sat inches from Billie and started the long, arduous task of cleaning himself.

“Shit,” Logan said out loud.

Then he grabbed a glass of water and some pain meds from his bathroom. He left them on the night table beside his bed, and after one more glance behind him, turned out the light and left Billie alone to sleep it off.