28. The First Lesson

Briar

They kiss so differently.

Hollis kisses like a slow dance, a sultry song that thrums through your cells, makes you feel like your outline is dissolving. He's the sun that warms me in the afternoon.

Rhys is the guy in the sleek bar who wants you, the one who kisses you in a dimly lit corner as the guitar amps up on the sound system. He's twilight, a dirty promise heading into the darkening night.

I crave both kisses. They each turn me on, and I'm a hot mess.

I'm ludicrously wet.

They've made me feel really good with no judgment. No issues. That gives me an idea. I back away from the bed a foot or so.

I like my body. It's strong. It's healthy. I can do handstands and backbends, and I can lift myself up on my hands and hover.

I want them to admire me. To stare at me. "Watch me."

Even though I'm in yoga pants and a T-shirt, I give them a show. I take my time stripping off the top, then I slide down the blue pants inch by inch, revealing my hips, then my pink panties.

Hollis growls from the bed. Rhys rumbles from next to me. I step out of my leggings. I'm in a tight sports bra and panties, then I take off my bra.

Rhys swallows roughly, his pupils darkening. "She's so fucking gorgeous."

"Isn't she ridiculously hot?" Hollis asks his friend, and the praise makes me wetter.

The fact that they aren't talking to me makes me ache. I'm the center of their attention, but there's space for my thoughts too. Maybe that's what I've needed? I go to the bed, then beckon Rhys so he can join us.

I move next to Hollis while Rhys sits at the foot of the bed.

"Take off your shirts," I tell them.

"Thank fuck," Hollis says, relieved. The man hates shirts.

Rhys rolls his eyes. "Surprised you didn't have it off already."

"Me too," he says.

I laugh, loving the way they tease each other even in the heat of this moment. I watch them both, drinking in the reveal of Rhys's chest. It's strong, carved, marked with scars. There's a tattoo across his right pec—a series of dates in black ink.

My heart catches, then hurts briefly. That has to be for a person he loved deeply and lost. I sit up, press a reverent kiss to it, then lie back on the pillows.

This is it.

All those nerves I shed as I stripped come roaring back.

I've never shown someone what I like in bed. I've never gotten myself off for a guy. I feel shaky, tense even as I reach for the toy. "I've never done this."

Hollis leans forward and kisses me. "Me neither," he admits.

"Same here," Rhys says.

They're both so surprisingly honest that some of the tightness in me vanishes.

You can do this. You're a teacher. It's time to teach.

I quirk up my lips in a saucy grin. "Is someone going to take off my panties or do I have to do everything myself?"

Hollis tips his chin to his friend. "Her pussy's fucking beautiful. You strip her, man."

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I'm shivering from those filthy, gorgeous words. They're fueling me even as nerves rattle through me. Nerves and excitement.

Rhys moves between my thighs, kneeling, his strong hands coasting up my thighs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. He glides them down one hip, then the other. "Fuuuuuck."

Rhys's breath hisses, his eyes darkening, like he's walked into his hottest fantasy.

He looks savage as he peels them off then brings them to his nose. His eyes squeeze shut as he inhales the panel. "Mmm," he rumbles. "You were right."

When he opens his eyes, he tosses the panties…to Hollis. The man next to me catches the scrap of fabric, then inhales them too, murmuring, "Yesssss."

I think I just went from outrageously wet to a waterfall. Hollis drops my undies to the floor, then runs a hand down my arm. "Part those pretty legs more."

I comply.

Rhys's eyes practically turn black. "She's fucking perfect," he says, approvingly.

"I know, right?" Hollis says, like he's proud he discovered me, then he presses a firm kiss to my bare shoulder. "Show us, baby. Show us how you play with that pretty pussy."

That helps. His direction.

He moves down the bed so they're both at my feet, watching.

I turn on the toy. It's small and pretty—peach-colored. Shaped a little like a flower. It's The Flutter from Just for Her, designed to simulate a tongue. If Hollis had picked a huge dong, I'd be worried. A small bullet and I might have been bored.

This vibe says the gifter put some serious thought into it. It's easy to use, easier to teach.

When I teach poses in class, I show and I tell. With this toy, I start with a demonstration. I slide it down my chest first as two pairs of enrapt eyes stare at me like I'm the center of their world. It's heady, their gazes on me. Their hands on me too. Hollis runs a hand up my calf, fingers grazing behind my right knee. Rhys runs his warm palm along my left thigh.

The twin attention is all new. And so good because it's so much. I feel…surrounded.

I roam a thumb over my nipple, pinching it as my other hand travels down my stomach.

"Jesus," Hollis rasps out.

I grab my breast harder, getting into it.

"Fucking hell," Rhys grunts.

They like the show. I give them one, spreading my knees wider.

"Briar," Hollis groans, squeezing my calf, then dipping his face to my leg, planting a kiss there like he just can't resist touching me. "You're soaked."

"She's dripping," Rhys adds, and they sound mesmerized.

I feel like I'm glowing inside. Sparking. "I like…it like this," I say, letting the toy travel between my legs and pressing it to my clit. My hips shoot up. "Oh god," I groan.

"Yes," Hollis murmurs.

Rhys drops his face to kiss my hip.

I slide the toy up and down in tiny motions, gliding over my eager clit. Showing them what I like—laser attention on that one spot.

I'm not sure how to say this to them, but most men eat a woman out like they're sucking the juice out of a whole piece of fruit and that's just…not my thing. I need a man who's not afraid to love on my clit.

I close my eyes, apply a little pressure, then find the guts to say what I want. "I like all the focus on my clit," I say.

"Do you like it fast? Hard? Firm?" Rhys's voice is thick with lust.

"Start off slow, but don't suck it." All the things I've never said come out of my mouth in raspy little breaths as I show them. "It's like a symphony of the clit. It should grow louder, bolder, more beautiful. But I want all the attention centered here, right here."

"Do you like fingers, love?" Rhys asks, his hands, dancing closer to my wet center.

That's a good question. "I don't know," I admit, then shrug as I knead my breast with my left hand, rub my clit with the toy in my right hand, electricity shooting higher in my cells as I turn up the speed. "I don't fuck myself with my fingers."

But I think I do know what I want. "Will you go down on me?" I ask Rhys, then I say to Hollis, "While you?—"

I barely have to say play with my tits.

Hollis moves like The Flash. He's wedging his body behind me in no time, pulling my back against his chest, his arms roping around me. "I get to play with these beauties," he gloats as he fondles my tits while Rhys settles between my thighs, his hands roaming down my legs as I turn off the toy, setting it on the mattress.

He meets my gaze, offering me a hopeful, dirty grin. "And now I attempt to turn my tongue into a sex toy."

I laugh, the sound reverberating joyfully through my body, then fading away when he kisses my clit.

Oh god.

It's soft and passionate at the same time.

It's focused.

It's precise and fluttery.

It's exactly what I wanted. It feels so right, I could cry.

He kisses me, then flicks his tongue against that swollen bundle of nerves. And wow. Just wow. I'm lifting my hips, and reaching for his head.

I'm grabbing onto his thick hair. He's licking my clit exactly like I told him.

Up, down, determined.

And Hollis, behind me, is kissing my neck and squeezing my tits. His strong hands cup my breasts like he's weighing them, then he rolls my nipples between his fingers.

It's sharp and hot.

Wild, thrilling sensations run through me.

Wicked bliss. Then a wave of pleasure. Hands, tongue, lips.

And Hollis's rumbly voice in my ear. "You like it, baby? You want anything different?"

"A little faster," I say breathily.

Rhys ups the speed, his tongue flicking along my clit, making my thighs shake. I feel like I'm liquid. Like I'm melting under his kiss.

Under Hollis's firm hands.

I'm trembling, and a wave of pleasure crashes into me.

Tonight, I will come.

I'm close. So close. I can feel the curl in my belly, the pull in my cells, the hot, thrilling pulse in my pussy—the tantalizing closeness to the edge.

This is how I feel when I'm alone. When I touch myself. When I know I'll get there. When I have no doubt the O is happening and can just let go and give in to the feelings.

I'm so freaking close. I can get there. I can reach for it.

But…what if?

In the blink of an eye, I shove my hand back between my thighs. I refuse to lose this orgasm. Even with Rhys's face right there, I lend a hand, fingers flying and taking me to the brink. My toes curl, my body tenses deliciously, then I'm shouting, crying, falling apart. An orgasm slams into me as Rhys shares me with my fingers and his friend's hands.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

I'm loud, so loud. Louder than I've ever been. And it is a symphony. Them and me. Me and them. Their groans, their grunts, their muttered fuck yeses.

It's all of us, playing together.

When I open my eyes, sighing woozily, the two men look seriously satisfied.

Like how I feel. "That was so good," I say, sounding a little drunk to my own ears. "I love coming."

Laughing, Hollis moves out from behind me, laying me gently on the pillows as he moves next to me. Rhys climbs up, settling on my other side. "Told you you deserved a happy ending," Hollis says.

I sigh happily, wiggling a little in the afterglow, feeling all kinds of intoxicated. "You were right."

"Just wait till you see what we'll do tomorrow night," Rhys adds.

They're already making plans for a next time. That's presumptuous in ways I like.

But it's also risky. Plans can lead to expectations. Expectations can lead to hurt. After the way Steven tossed me out like I was trash—literally—I don't want to put my heart on the line again. "I want tomorrow night," I begin, looking to Rhys, then Hollis. "But this is just for this week, right?"

There are a few seconds—no, several, where the whole earth seems to go still. I can almost hear a commentator whisper awkward. But then, Hollis chuckles. "Of course."

"Right. Yeah. I mean, we have a stretch of away games starting at the end of next week. The break is a bit shorter this year, so we start up again sooner. And we're actually leaving town a little early for a charity thing in Chicago. Where our next game is," Rhys says, then quickly adds, "And there's so much going on. Contracts and trade rumors and whatnot."

I flash back to Hollis's remarks from our dog walk—his family responsibilities, his focus on his mom and sisters. Rhys has his laser vision too.

"Totally," Hollis adds.

Do they mean it? But then these guys have meant everything they've said so far. They meant it when they helped me with the cat. They meant it when they offered to share this cottage. I take this offer at face value too.

It's safer this way. Nothing lasts anyway. And besides, next week I have to return to the city, find a place to live, and keep putting one foot in front of the other with my yoga plans.

"It'll be a good week then, and next week we'll be…friends again," I add.

"Friends again," Hollis repeats, and Rhys echoes the promise saying friends again too.

I smile, grateful for this plan. I'm eager, though, to return to the fun and games of this bed. I look to one guy, then the other, my tone light and flirty as I say, "I guess you guys really don't mind sharing."

Rhys slides his hand down my bare arm. "Not with a friend. Not with a toy, and never with you and your fantastic fingers."

That's a relief. I wasn't sure if Rhys would be annoyed that I called for last-minute backup—from me.

I meet his heated gaze, then Hollis's before my eyes drift down their bodies. "Let me take care of you two."

They don't protest. They shed their underwear, but before I can enjoy their cocks, I hear a noise outside. My mind snaps back to reality.

The sound of a car door slamming shut carries across the yard to the window. Tires crunch along gravel. I move quickly, turning to the window, pulling back the curtain a sliver.

Gavin's gone.