Doin' a Dime Vale, Lynn (best beach reads of all time txt) 📖

my body slid down his by an inch.

“Sit still,” Hunt ordered.

I snickered. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes twinkled as he dropped the bag down on the bench right inside the shower stall, then moved forward until he could reach the faucet.

He wrenched it on as far as it would go, and then leaned backward out of the spray.

But not far enough.

Because the cold water went right down the length of my back, causing me to nearly fall straight out of his arms.

“Eeep!” I cried out, trying to get away.

He laughed and let me go, my feet hitting the ground with a solid thump.

I jolted when I hit the floor, leaning into him to keep from falling all the way to the floor.

He was now covered in dirt and grass just like me.

I grinned up at him, then leaned forward and tweaked his nipple with my thumb and forefinger.

“Ow!” he cried out.

“You dropped me!” I laughed.

He shucked his shorts, and I was no longer laughing.

Because his cock, the beautiful, most perfectly long and wide, best peen I’d ever seen, was absolutely nothing to laugh at.

Nope.

It was something to worship.

To kiss.

To love.

To suck…

“I want to suck it,” I told him as I shucked my clothes seconds later.

“Oh, God,” Sin cried. “Please, for the love of all that’s holy.”

I winced.

“It needs a wash,” Hunt said as he pushed me into the shower.

I nearly drowned and came up sputtering.

Throwing my hair back out of my face, now streaming with water, I focused on his face.

“Hey!” I cried.

“Soap,” he yelled, placing it into my hand.

“I don’t use soap first,” I disagreed, trying to hand it back to him.

He took the bar from me and washed it over my breasts with an efficient, no-nonsense attitude that had me reeling.

I’d just thought to grab the bar myself and take over when he whipped me around and tackled my back.

His hands then smoothed down over my ass, causing me to pause.

“Need things clean so I can fuck them,” he growled into my ear.

I licked my lips, getting a mouth full of soap and water as I did.

“Okay,” I bit my lip, no longer in the mood to argue.

Now, I was in the mood for other things.

Things that required him to be slipping his cock into my…

“I’m done!” Sin announced. “Just let me get dressed.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned to look at Hunt over my shoulder just as he reached the apex of my thighs.

His fingers slid between the folds of my sex, sliding easily as he soaped me up down there.

“Okay,” Hunt called out.

His fingers, though, didn’t seem as sedate as they found their way inside of me.

I dropped my head to rest on the tile wall in front of me, then braced my arms above my head, allowing my breasts to fall and sway below me.

“Fuck,” Sin cried. “I can’t find my pants!”

The door opened again, and this time it was to hear Zach say, “Why the fuck does not having your pants require you to sound so frantic?”

“Because they’re about to have sex, and I haven’t had a warm, willing pussy in about eight weeks. And no others will do but one. This is torture!” Sin replied. “And they won’t even let me join in or watch.”

“Who?” Zach asked, sounding bored.

Hunt’s fingers scissored inside of me, then pulled free so abruptly that I squeaked.

“Hunt and Wyett,” Sin answered.

Just as I was about to ask him why, or stand up and turn around, or both, he lined his cock up with my pussy and sank inside.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that I opened my mouth to cry out.

But just as I was about to voice my surprise, his hand found my mouth and covered it.

The only thing that came out was a muffled moan.

“Hmm,” Zach said. “And your pants are right there under your towel. You dropped it on the floor.”

“Fuck, they’re wet,” Sin grumbled loudly.

“So are you,” Hunt said into my ear. “Very, very wet. I slid right in. No resistance at all.”

I closed my eyes as I bathed in the feeling of delight.

He felt so good inside of me.

So, so good.

Like he was exactly where he was always meant to be.

That was always how it was with him.

In the sixteen times that we’d done it—and yes, I was keeping count—it never once was bad.

Never. Once.

Hell, there wasn’t even the possibility of it being bad.

It was only perfection each and every time.

“You make me feel like a fucking king,” he said into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Like I’m on top of the world.”

He punctuated that statement with a thrust of his hips.

I bit down on the fleshy part of his palm, causing him to grunt in surprise.

“Jesus, what you do to me,” he snarled. “Dreamed about you, about this, for so long that it’s been a week and I still can’t believe I finally have it.”

The shower in the next stall over turned on, causing me to jolt in surprise.

Hunt grunted right along with that surprise, but not because of the sudden state of the shower next to us. The sound of surprise was because of the fact that I’d clamped down on him so tightly that he couldn’t help but to let air escape with his tensing muscles.

He pulled out, then slowly sank back inside, trying to keep it sedate and careful—likely to keep my moans and squeaks and cries at bay.

But let’s face it.

Hunt’s cock was too good, and I was too vocal. Unless he kept his hand over my mouth the entire time, and at this point it was already slipping, the people in the bathroom with us were going to hear.

It was inevitable.

“Oh, God.” Sin clapped his hands. “Seriously. You could at least try not to make noises. I can hear you over the shower!”

I wasn’t aware that we were making noise. But then again, I was so focused on what I was feeling—i.e., Hunt’s big cock filling me up to the point of almost pain—that I couldn’t