The Bayshore Rivals: The Entier Series Read online

  Breathlessly, he pulls away, the blue of his eyes the color of a thunderstorm before it rains, his pupils dilated, “Fuck, Harlow, I want to kiss you everywhere, taste every inch of you.”

  His confession should frighten me being how inexperienced I am, but it doesn’t it excites me, because I would love nothing more than to have his lips on my skin, his tongue stroking me in ways I could never imagine.

  “Do you want that?” He questions, leaning in to press a kiss over my throbbing pulse. Pressing down on his cock I swivel my hips, the pleasure that zings through me is indescribable.

  “Yes.” I reply hoarsely feeling only a little timid when he pulls away and grabs the hem of the T-shirt I’m wearing, pulling it up and over my head. The shirt falls to the mattress beside us, and suddenly I’m sitting in his lap, my breasts exposed, and my cheeks feeling fifty shades of red. Instinctively, I lift my hands to cover my breasts but Sullivan isn’t having it, he shakes his head, and grabs onto my wrists, bringing my hands back to his shoulders.

  “You’re beautiful, and you shouldn’t hide that beauty.”

  He just called me beautiful. I soak in the words and sink my teeth into my bottom lip when he leans forward and sucks one of the stiff nipples into his mouth. His eyes drift closed, and he moans around the tip, the sound pulsing through me.

  My pussy clenches around nothing but air, and I wish so badly that he would alleviate the ache forming there. Pulling away he releases my nipple with a loud pop and moves to give equal attention to the other one.

  “You smell like sweet vanilla. You’re intoxicating, and taste like freshly picked strawberries. Fuck, I could kiss you all day, and suck on these pretty pink nipples for hours.” Goodness, his words aren’t helping matters.

  I can feel something building deep inside me, it mounts higher and higher as he sucks my nipple, swirling his tongue across the hardened peak while kneading my other breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling the hardened nub gently.

  “I’m… that feels good, even better than the massage.”

  Pulling away he palms both breasts, his eyes flashing with barely restrained need and in this moment, I want him to snap. I want him to take me, give me the pleasure that I know he can. The pleasure that he’ll give, if I ask.

  “I need you…”

  “Grind your pussy against my cock. I want to see what you look like when you fall apart.” He croaks, and like a kid being told they can have dessert before dinner I press my pussy against his cock—our thin layer of clothes doing nothing to hide our arousal—taking whatever he will give me.

  At first contact I gasp, my pussy throbbing, and heat spreading through my core. Maintaining pressure, I swivel my hips and smile when a deep moan passes his’s lips.

  “So pretty, so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, looking up into my eyes, his fingers plucking my nipples with a steady rhythm. I let my body’s reaction to him overtake me, and start humping him, finding the perfect angle that brings me just enough pressure to set me off.

  My movements become wild, my hips moving faster and faster, as the pleasure rises higher, and holy hell, I wish there was less fabric between us right now.

  “Come for me, Harlow, show me how much you want my cock and maybe next time I’ll give it to you.” The deepness of his voice, and the erotic words set me off, heat pools inside me and then like a firework I explode. My entire being quaking, my pulse pounding in my ears as my pussy clenches over and over again around nothing.

  “Fuck…” Sullivan grits out, his fingers digging into my skin.

  Sagging forward I fall onto Sullivan, my ear pressing against his chest, the sound of his own ragged heartbeat filling me with warmth.

  “It’s been a long time since I came in my fucking boxers, but you, Harlow, hold a power over me that is both frightening and exciting. But believe me, next time I come, it will be inside of you.”

  My eyes widen and I gulp, wondering when the next time will be. My stomach is in knots, but the rest of my body is relaxed, a puddle of mush. I pull away, my mouth popping open with a question on my tongue, when the bedroom door opens and Banks walks in. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking as he takes us in, his face is a mask of unshown emotion and before either one of us can say anything he exits the room, closing the door behind him.

  I turn back to face Sullivan bashfully and he brushes a few strands of hair from my face. I’m a fucking mess. I just humped one of the guys I’d been taught to hate for the first eighteen years of my life. The same guys who’ve spent countless hours bullying me and making my life miserable. So why does this feel so right, yet so wrong? Having Banks walk in on us, is leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with.

  “We can’t help it, all three of us want you. The question is, do you want all of us?”

  And if that isn’t the million-dollar question, I don’t know what is.

  Breakfast isn’t as awkward as I expected it to be and Banks doesn’t mention what he saw in Sullivan’s room. Still, this feels anything but normal. Part of me is still wondering if this is real at all. How can we go from hating each other to enjoying breakfast after cuddling all night? Then something dawns on me. Did we ever really hate each other? Or were we just conditioned? Did we just hate the versions of each other our parents made us see?

  Looking back on it I can't really say I ever felt like I hated them myself, as in, they never did anything to hurt me directly. Everything I ever heard about the Bishops came from my father and now that I know my father lied to me I can't help but wonder if he lied about other things too. My mother never spoke of them, but when she did it was with the same disdain my father had.

  Thinking about my parents always leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I take a sip of coffee and try to wash down the unwanted memories. Instead of dwelling on the past I look over at the three men sitting at the table with me. I’ve never seen them so relaxed and carefree.

  “I’ll be gone most of the day, but I’m sure Banks and Oliver can keep you busy,” Sullivan says, in between bites of his bagel.

  “Where are you going?” I ask out of curiosity, only after the words leave my mouth do I realize how nosy I’m being. I internally curse at how ridiculous the whole thing sounds, Jesus, Harlow, he gave you an orgasm, not a wedding ring.

  “Just have to deal with some stuff,” he looks over at me briefly, obviously not willing to share. I take the hint and don’t ask him to elaborate. It’s none of my business really.

  He leaves right after finishing breakfast and I try to help Oliver and Banks clean up the kitchen, but Banks instructs me to stay seated which leaves me feeling weird and out of place.

  “I should probably just go back to the dorms,” I announce, feeling as if I might be intruding or something. “You really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to take care of me, watch over me. I don't need…”

  “We already talked about this. You are staying here until we figure out who pushed you off the boat.” Oliver’s voice holds a finality to it, like what he says goes, and I know once again I've been shot down. I frown and cast my eyes to the floor, crossing my arms over my chest. I'm still wearing Sullivan's shirt. No bra, of course, and his shorts, with, you guessed it, no panties.

  Even with the clothing I have on I feel naked, and out of place.

  “Why don’t we watch a movie or something?” Banks suggests, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “We can spend the rest of the day on the couch, maybe order some takeout, lay around and be lazy.”

  “Actually, that does sound really nice,” I smile. “But, I need to at least call Shelby and let her know I’m okay. I know her, and by now she's probably worried herself into a frenzy. She’ll be waiting around all day for me to call or come home.”

  Banks claps his hands together, the sound echoing around the room loudly, “It’s decided then, lazy couch day it is. Here, you call Shelby,” he says, sliding his phone across the table towards me.

  “I’m hopping in the showe
r.”

  “And I’m going to pick a movie. Return to the living room in ten minutes,” Oliver demands, his gaze burning right through me. I can’t place the emotion I see there, but I can’t look away. It’s like he has be in a trance. He slips from the kitchen a moment later and I feel like I can finally breathe.

  What the hell was that? Whatever it was it was intense. With the phone in hand I dial one of the few numbers I know by heart.

  Shelby answers on the second ring with a dramatic gasp, “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s me. Just calling to say I’m alive.”

  “God, Harlow, I’ve been worried sick about you. I don’t think you staying there is safe. I feel like a shitty friend to have let this happen. I should have called the police instead. God, please tell me they haven't hurt you. I swear I'll murder them. I know how to hide a body.”

  “What? No! Stop, Shelby. I’m fine.” I assure her, but I can tell from the heavy breathing she's doing through the phone that she’s on the verge of a meltdown.

  “You almost died, Harlow. Do you have any idea what it felt like to see them pull you from the water like that? You do know you weren’t breathing when they pulled you out, right?” For a moment I don't say anything. That explains the pain in my chest, I guess. Someone must have done CPR on me. I lick my lips, preparing myself to say something, to reassure her that I'm okay, but the words won't come. I didn’t know that, and honestly, I’m not sure I wanted to know that. I don’t want to be reminded of how close I was to never waking up, to never seeing Shelby, or the guys, again. Swallowing down the fear, and sadness bubbling up inside me I force myself to speak.

  “It was a freak accident. Probably just a joke that went wrong. I promise, I’m fine,” I say weakly, wishing I was strong enough to believe the words I'm saying. She sighs deeply into the phone and I know she doesn't believe me. She's known me long enough to know I'm not okay, but she also knows I'm not ready to talk about it.

  “Fine, but call me if you need me and oh, I almost forgot. This chick came by our room this morning, asking if you were okay. Carole I think was her name.”

  “Caroline?”

  “Yeah that’s it, she said she was worried about you last night and wanted to check up on you.”

  “That’s sweet,” I say, wondering how she knew what room I lived in.

  “I’m going to the gallery for a few hours, but I’ll have my phone on me, and I mean it. Anything, Harlow, even if you just want to talk.”

  “I swear, I will call if anything happens,” I assure her. “Thank you for being an awesome friend, I love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I love you too, bestie. Talk later.” I press the red end key on the phone and stand there for a moment, regaining my composure. I wasn't breathing? I literally could've died, I was so close to death, but Oliver saved me.

  He saved me.

  9

  If someone would have asked me two days ago how I was going to spend my Saturday, this would have been by far the furthest scenario from my mind. Banks, Oliver, and I are stretched out on the oversized sectional, each eating out of a box of Chinese takeout, while watching all the Die Hard movies.

  We are already at the end of the second one and Sullivan still hasn’t returned. I wonder where the hell he is, but I don’t want to seem nosy, so I keep my mouth shut and enjoy this day without worrying.

  “How is your back?” Banks asks, when the movie ends.

  “It’s better, that stuff Sullivan put on there really helped.”

  “Is that what you two were doing this morning?” he teases. “Maybe I can put some cream on you too.”

  Oh God. I don’t know if it’s the reminder of what I did with Sullivan, or the suggestive tone in Banks’ voice, or maybe the way Oliver’s smoldering eyes are burning into me right now, but something has my core tightening and moisture building between my legs.

  “You’re cute when you’re blushing,” Oliver says as he sits up and leans over to me. “Let’s see your back.” He tugs on my shirt urging me to lift it up.

  I scoot to the edge of the couch and lift my shirt up on my back. I don’t plan on showing more skin than that, but when Oliver starts running his fingers slowly up my spine, I have this overwhelming need to take my shirt off all the way. I turn my head and look back over my shoulder just as Banks reaches out for me as well. His fingertips grazing over my ribs.

  With both of them touching me at the same time my senses go into overdrive. Before I know what I’m doing, I pull my shirt off all the way and drop it onto the floor by my feet.

  “Fuck yeah,” Oliver exclaims. Grabbing me by the hips, he spins me around and pulls me onto his lap. I straddle him in nothing but a pair of thin shorts, the fabric already soaked at my crotch.

  I can’t hold back a moan when I feel his very hard cock pressing up against my clit. With his hands sprawled out on my thighs he grinds me over his length, but I really lose it when he takes one of my nipples into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the tight bud.

  My head falls back as pure lust overcomes me. Suddenly I don’t care about how wrong this is, all I can think about is their hands on me, their mouths, their tongues, their…oh my god. I can’t believe this is happening. Am I going to lose my virginity during a threesome?

  Oliver sucks on my puckered nipple and I lose my train of thought again.

  “Don’t be so greedy, brother,” Banks growls from beside us and Oliver releases my nipple with a pop.

  Banks smiles and cups one of my breasts before leaning down to take the other one into his mouth while I’m still straddling Oliver. The wrongness of it all is so exhilarating. I had Sullivan this morning and now I’m with his brothers.

  I busy my hands threading my fingers through tufts of soft brown hair while Banks swirls his tongue around my hardened nipple. The sensations they both stir inside me are maddening.

  Suddenly he stops and pulls away gently. I whimper at the loss of contact, my head too dizzy with lust as I try to figure out if I've done something wrong.

  “Lay across our legs,” he orders, tugging at my shoulder. With shameful eagerness I oblige, readjusting my legs so I can lay across both their laps. My upper body is on Banks, while my ass is nestled against Oliver’s hardened cock.

  “You want us to make you feel good?” Oliver inquires, his voice heady, while running his hand up and down my inner thighs. My heart starts to beat rapidly desire pooling deep in my gut.

  “Yes,” I say breathlessly, my tongue darting out over my bottom lip to wet it.

  “I want to touch you,” Oliver purrs.

  “You are touching me,” I tease, even though I know exactly what he means.

  Grinning he uses his hand to nudge my legs apart.

  “I want to touch you here,” he murmurs and lets his thumb ghost over my shorts covered pussy. Taking the hint, I spread my legs further for him. He takes the invitation and trails his fingers over the fabric before he dips his thumb into the waistband of my shorts and starts to pull them down.

  I lift my hips to give him better access and then watch as he pulls the fabric down my legs slowly, ever so slowly, leaving me completely bare. My eyes dart between both of them as they look down at me like I’m an all you can eat buffet and they are two starving men who haven’t eaten in weeks.

  Banks cups my cheek and tilts my face towards him. Leaning down, he presses his lips to mine, this kiss consumes me, ripping the air from my lungs. I’m so overwhelmed by that kiss that it’s hard for me to keep track of where Oliver’s hands are.

  Pleasure builds further when Banks’ free hand finds my breast and he starts kneading the flesh. At the same time Oliver’s hand moves between my thighs to cup my mound, his thumb finding my clit with ease.

  “You want us to make you come?” Banks asks, his voice unnaturally deep as he pulls away just enough to speak.

  With his thumb firmly on my clit Oliver moves a finger to my already drenched entrance. This is insane, we should stop, but I don’t want to, I don�
�t know if I could stop right now. The world could burn to the ground around me and I wouldn’t care. All that matters is the scorching fire flickering in my belly.

  “Yes, please,” the words come out on a gasp because right as I’m speaking them, Oliver slides one of his thick digits into my slickness.

  “Fuck, Banks, she’s tight as hell.” Oliver’s voice is strained, the muscles in his neck tight. He looks like he’s ready to explode.

  “Mmm, so tight and ready for us,” Banks murmurs against my lips, before deepening the kiss. Seconds later my nipple is being rolled between two fingers, my chest heaving. My body shudders with pleasure at the explorative hands of these two men.

  I whimper the moisture between my legs growing, dripping now. I’m so wet, so ready, it’s almost embarrassing. As if he can sense my discomfort and need for more, Oliver starts to move, his finger pumping in and out of me with shallow thrusts.

  “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Harlow, your pussy’s taking my brother’s finger with so much ease. I can picture you with my cock stuffed inside.”

  Dear lord, my cheeks heat at the admission. Could I handle being taken by two of the Bishops? Even more so, would I want to be? I already know the answer to that question and as wrong as it might be, yes. I would want to be taken by them, together.

  Banks is filthy, his words egging me on, pushing me closer and closer. My legs fall apart completely, my hips rising slightly with each shallow thrust, while Banks continues to pluck at my nipples, alternating between the two while whispering filthy thoughts in my ears.

  “You’re so greedy, so willing and ready for us,” Oliver growls, adding a second finger. He pauses briefly, before moving again, giving me time to adjust to him. It’s almost like he knows that I’ve never done this before.