Infamous Like Us (Like Us #10) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
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“What game?” Her grin expands. I know—she loves the competitive games.

I step closer and loop my fingers in the band of her bikini bottoms. Slowly, I pull her bathing suit down her thighs, down her legs—until the fabric pools at her ankles. As naked as Banks now. I track my eyes over her soft, bare skin. Blood pumping hotter through my veins.

“The floor is lava,” I tell her. “But you’re the only one not immune.” I look to my metamour. “Banks.”

He hoists her up in one effortless motion, her legs wrapping around his waist. The two of them naked, pieces of her wet hair cling to her squared jaw. She breathes heavily. His dick presses against her belly.

“Ready?” Banks asks her, his hands cupped under her ass.

She nods.

“Words,” I tell her, coming closer behind Sulli. I brush wet hair off her cheek and neck.

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

He lifts Sulli a little higher and then guides our girlfriend down onto his full length. She’s been taking more and more of Banks ever since the first DP night. I press a kiss to her neck, and I palm myself, watching Sulli sink onto him. Watching her lips part, breath hitched. Watching how he disappears inside her, and my muscles tighten in blistering need. I kiss the line of her shoulder.

She lets out a breathy, high-pitched noise. Her fingers dig into his biceps. Hanging on.

A husky sound escapes Banks. He moves her up-down on his shaft. Shit, I need her. I want her.

“Fuckfuck,” Sulli cries.

Banks whispers, “You enjoy me inside you, mermaid?”

She nods into another pleasured noise. I kiss her neck again, and she shivers. Against her ear, I whisper, “How about me inside you?”

“Fuckyes,” she gasps.

“What do you say, Banks?” I ask. “Should we both fuck her?”

Sulli drinks in the way we communicate with each other. How Banks lifts a shoulder to me. He’s trying to be subtle, keeping Sulli on the edge of her seat. Or literally, on his cock.

I motion with my head towards the locker rooms. He nods back. In less than a minute, red aluminum lockers in about seven rows surround us. Wooden benches in each row, along with forgotten water bottles and goggles.

Banks pushes Sulli up against the first locker he can find, and he bucks up in her. She claws at his back, crying out his name, and then he moves her to the bench. Their wild eagerness, their desperation to be closer and deeper is a hand around my cock—begging to join those feelings I know and share with them.

While Banks lies her down on the bench, their heavy, pleasured noises echo in the locker room. The sounds race my pulse, and I’m entranced as I rip open a condom packet. I never would’ve imagined how much I love seeing Banks make love with Sulli.

But knowing I’m about to join is the ultimate peak. Nothing else compares to this intimacy we share. The three of us all together. Whether he’s in her, I’m in her, we’re both in her—it doesn’t matter. Just being here with them ignites a passion and embraces a greater peace and solace.

Once I’m out of my boxer-briefs, Sulli sees my need. “Oh fuck. Fuck.”

After Banks pumps two more times into Sulli, he pulls out, still rock-hard.

My turn.

I slide on the condom and don’t give Sulli time to process. Entering her feels like coming home, and I keep the same wild, frenzied pace as Banks. Rocking in her so hard that Banks has to hold her waist down on the bench so she doesn’t slide off. They kiss, upside-down.

Heat bathes the locker room. Emotions pooling between us. She grips me, him—our eyes traveling to each other with powerful intensity, as though we’re all promising the same thing. To stay, to never leave, to be here together. Forever. Her high-pitched cries and breathy moans grow louder, only to be silenced when I pull out. Banks takes my spot. Back inside.

I kneel where he’d been. Holding her waist as she gets pounded by him.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” she cries, her eyes rolling.

My lips touch the base of her neck and she bucks up into Banks, her toes curling.

“Switch,” Banks says.

I stand up. Take his place.

He takes mine.

We go like that for what feels like forever. I could live in this moment. Inside her. Out of her. Holding her. Watching them. Feeling us.

It’s a cataclysmic moment fueled by the fact that tomorrow we’re leaving Philly. Tomorrow is the beginning of everything. The road to her dream. The threats that lie ahead.

Tonight, we fall into a familiar rhythm of love and sex.

We’re all sticky with sweat and the smell of chlorine has infused with our skin. Banks continues to thrust as I kneel beside the bench and rub Sulli’s sensitive clit. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“That doesn’t sound like a winner,” I breathe.


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