Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
A flash of heat zapping through me has me quickly stepping away to toss the peel in the trash. Drew saunters into the kitchen smelling like fucking paradise and I can’t help but grin at him. He throws a wink at me before leaning a hip against the counter to watch Ashton.
Ashton darts his gaze between us and then laughs. “You two are way gayer than me. Look at you in your matching pants. So fucking cute.”
We all laugh as Mia returns, dropping her bag on the floor just inside the door.
And then nothing’s funny at all.
She’s changed out of her clothes she wore to the meet. Her dark hair has been braided into pigtails and her cute glasses are perched on her nose. I’m not sure she’s even wearing pants because the white Nintendo hoodie hangs halfway down her thighs. Her bare, naked thighs. Thighs I’ve kissed and been between. She has on knee-high red and white striped socks and stupid unicorn slippers.
That whole ensemble should not be sexy.
I should not be reliving every second of our time together where I tasted her and touched her.
I’m with Drew. She’s with Ashton.
“What?” she asks, her eyes bouncing between the three of us who’ve gone silent. “Do I look stupid or something?”
Ashton snorts. “Fuck no, MiMi. You’re so damn cute, you gave everyone a boner just by being you. Now come over here and help me make these drinks.”
Tearing my gaze from her, I discover that Drew’s eyes are snared on the way Ashton now has Mia pinned against the counter. Ashton playfully nips at her neck while she places the orange slices into each of the glasses. I walk over to Drew and grab his hand. As though breaking from his trance, he threads his fingers with mine.
“Let’s play NHL 20,” I say to Drew, tugging him out of the kitchen.
Ashton cackles. “Drew sucks at that game, dude bro Bray.”
“I do not,” Drew grumbles as he sits on the floor in front of the television.
I smirk at Drew as I set up the game. He’s such a bad liar. Once the game is on, I plop down next to him and begin whipping his ass, loving how pissed off he gets each time I knock the puck into his net. Ashton shows up with drinks. We absently drink while we play and before long, I’m getting a refill.
“Fuck you,” Drew barks out, tossing his controller to the floor. “I’m not playing this dumbass game.”
“Aww, Drew’s a sore loser,” Mia taunts. “Need a hug?”
“I need a shot,” he mumbles back.
Ashton drops down next to me, grabbing the abandoned controller. He’s a lot harder to beat. We spend the next hour in a heated match, neck in neck. If Mia stopped refilling our glasses, maybe I could focus on the screen a little better.
“Pause it,” Ashton says. “I gotta take a piss.”
He stands and slightly staggers before heading out of the living room. Finally tearing myself from the game, I glance around, looking for Drew. Mia—no longer wearing her hoodie, but a tight red camisole—is curled up next to him and his arm is around her. They’re talking lowly, both of them wearing serene expressions. Her tiny shorts have crept up her thighs, showing a lot of silky skin.
My gut twists in a weird way and I’d like to think it’s jealousy at the way he holds Mia when he could be holding me, but I don’t think that’s it. It reminds me of how it felt to hold her too. She’s so soft and sweet and—
“Mine,” Ashton says, a playful lilt in his voice as he returns and scoops Mia out of Drew’s arms. He sits down at one end of the couch with her in his lap. “Game’s over, man. Put on a movie.”
“I’m not your bitch,” I grumble back.
Ashton laughs. “You’re just mad I was gonna beat you again and you won’t have a chance to try and win. Later, loser. Later I’ll whip your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.” His eyes drag down my shirtless front for a second and then he pulls his stare away, jaw clenching.
I flip off the game and turn it to some Brad Pitt movie where he ages in reverse. Drew looks like a king sprawled out on the other end of the couch, his blue eyes blazing with heat. Bypassing the recliner, I sit down next to Drew, angling my body where I can watch Ashton and Mia right along with the movie. Drew absently strokes his fingertips over my hardened nipple, making my dick all kinds of hard in my sweats. Luckily, Ashton is too wrapped up in Mia to notice what Drew does to me from one simple touch.
“Love you, MiMi,” Ashton murmurs, his thumb hooking one of the straps and pulling it down her shoulder.