“If you’re lucky enough to get to me?” Adam grins.

“Not you, dumbass. Delilah.”

“Off again,” Delilah says with a wink.

My heart beats quickly in my chest. I haven’t kissed anybody off-camera since Dallas.

I need this.

* * *

I’ve chosen the corner of the hallway of the third floor as the starting point, and I have to make it all the way into the dining room in the dark.

Maybe this idea was too good, considering it will not only get us comfortable with each other, but also get us in the mood for Halloween. And I really don’t feel like being scared shitless right now.

The doorbell rings.

“Who the fuck’s that?” Ella yells.

“I’ll answer it,” says Britain from somewhere downstairs. After a few moments of waiting, Britain yells, “Crisis averted. We’re back in business.”

And then I get a text from Jessica. All it says is GO.

I start making my way through the hall, wondering if we thought this through. What if one of us trips down the stairs in the dark and breaks their neck?

I guess it’s too late for that.

Before I even make it out of the third floor hallway, I run into Ella. She must have started in a bedroom somewhere on this floor.

“Well, hello there,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I have to admit, Ella is pretty damn hot. Dark, smooth skin, and big eyes. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t slightly aroused when she kissed me—maybe just from the taboo element of it all. When her tongue slips between my lips, I can’t help but giggle. She pulls away, her mouth trailing to my neck, and whispers, “Come on, Rylan. Show me what you got.”

And then she licks up my neck.

She actually licks my neck.

I’m too shocked to respond and too turned on to even breathe. Damn, this girl sure is taking this exercise seriously.

Finally, Ella pulls away and says, “Gotta run, ciao!” And makes her way down the hall.

And I’m left standing like an idiot, dumbfounded. What the fuck? Am I so much of a prude to have a kiss from a girl affect me like I’m a teenage boy who just figured out what a boner is?

I shake myself out of it, wipe my neck, and keep moving.

When I reach the stairs, they are empty. Thank God, because after knowing how my body responds to secret make-out sessions, I’d probably end up losing balance and falling to my death. I reach the second floor. Two people are at it in the corner (like, really at it), so I quietly sneak by and continue on my way. Reaching the next staircase, I slip down it, holding onto the banister for dear life. I’m all the way to the foyer—the dining room is just around the corner. I was able to dodge almost everyone.

When a wave of relief courses through me, I realize that I really need to loosen up before I’m stuck faking an orgy with a bunch of people I still get weirded out over kissing.

A strong hand wraps around my wrist.

The air leaves my lungs as I’m pushed up against the wall. I can barely see the silhouette of the man towering over me—at first I think its Adam, or Miguel. But then he grasps my hips and slides me upward, pushing himself between my legs, and suddenly this is all too familiar.

“What the hell?” I whisper.

“Miss me?” Dallas asks.

My mouth hangs open. There’s nothing I can say or do that will clarify this situation. Millions of questions race through my mind, but I can’t seem to spit any of them out. Why is he here? How did he know I was coming?

Am I dreaming?

Instead—instead—I stupidly wrap my legs around him and say, “I think you’re supposed to kiss me now.”

“I know.”

When his lips press against mine, they’re cold. He was the one who rang the doorbell. But that’s as far as my thought process goes, because his tongue is coaxing my bottom lip, and my chest breaks in half.

Oh God, I missed him.

He keeps me pinned to the wall with his body until I start to slip. He slides his hand from from my thighs to my ass, and pressure builds between my legs. I bite down on his lip, wanting more of him, wanting all of him at once, but he refuses me. He pulls back, pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth, again on my cheek, and behind my ear. Then he buries his face in the crook of my neck and inhales, and I shut my eyes and hold him tight.

Dallas just stands there and holds me as I cling to him with my arms and legs. The moment seems infinite as he breathes in all of me, and suddenly this isn’t just a kiss.

This is a whole lot more than just a kiss.

Britain


This is the story how a little photographer walked blindly through a house with a bunch of models and ended up kissing almost all of them.

First was Delilah. She said, “Making out with you would be kind of weird,” and I said, “Ditto,” so she chastely kissed me on the lips and went about her merry way.

Second was Ella. That girl made me question my sexuality, if I wasn’t already.

And then comes Miguel.

I run my fingers down the front of his thin t-shirt, memorizing the feel of his abs. I get to look at stomachs and asses and flesh all the time, but I never get to touch.

That’s all about to end.

He leans down and presses his lips against mine. They’re soft and warm and taste like peppermint. I open my mouth, and his tongue brushes softly against mine.

And then he pulls away.

He squeezes my wrist once, like the signal letting me know we’re done.

So anticlimactic.

I hurry up the stairs, cheating with my phone light. I want to make it to the opposite end of the house as quickly as possible because I really don’t care to swap spit with anyone else.

Up ahead, I see another glow of a cellphone and hear hushed whispers. Getting closer, I realize that it’s Adam and Jaime.

“Hey!” I hiss, and both of them turn toward me in the blue glow of the cellphone. “What the hell are you guys doing? You’re supposed to be kissing. I thought that’d be easy for the two of you.”

I stop in front of them as both the boys turn to look at each other. Adam raises his eyebrow, and when he looks at me again, he has a wicked glint in his eye.

“What?” I ask.

“The rules never specified what would happen if three people ran into each other.”

When I get what he’s inferring, a jolt of wild energy races through my abdomen. He cocks his head sideways at the nearest bedroom door, as if suggesting it.

I can’t believe this is happening to me.

Jaime links his fingers with mine. He used to do that all of the time when I was a teenager because he knew it would get to me. Now it feels good, alluring, intimate, but instinctively I pull back my hand.

“Hold on,” I breathe. “Don’t try to distract from the situation. You guys still have to kiss.”

They shrug simultaneously. Adam leans in toward Jaime and their lips meet. Both of their eyes are closed when the kiss deepens. Jaime rests his hand on Adam’s hip and I hold my breath, feeling wetness pool between my legs. I realize now that I’ve been holding my phone up with the screen on in order to see everything they’re doing to each other.

I wouldn’t dream of Jaime ever being this comfortable with men in the past. He always came off as ignorant. But maybe I’m the one not giving him a flying chance.

Maybe I’m the ignorant one.

When they pull away, Adam’s teeth drag across Jaime’s bottom lip before they break apart.

“Satisfied?” Adam asks. He holds his phone up to my face. I’m sure I look like a kindergartner at a candy store right now, my eyes wide and glassy, my mouth hanging open.

I swallow. “Well… that was…”

I don’t even have time to protest. Not like I would want to, because this is so happening.

Oh my God, this is so happening.

Adam pushes the nearest door open with his back. I don’t know whose room this is, nor do I care. Jaime steps behind me and places his hands on my waist, guiding me into the room and pushing me gently onto the bed.

I flip over right as Adam crawls on top of me.

There’s just enough light in the room for me to make out Jaime’s expression as he sits back on the bed and watches me. He’s stoic as he studies me, like he’s waiting for me react to Adam. Probably waiting for me to push him off.

Hot, erotic energy ripples through me, and suddenly I want more than ever to play into his game—to show him that I’m not the same person just as much as he isn’t.

Adam starts at my neck. He nibbles and bites softly at my skin, licking gently at my earlobe. “Just let me know if you want to stop.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I say loud enough for Jaime to hear. Adam’s teeth scrape against my earlobe and my eyes flutter shut. He removes my glasses and presses his lips to mine.

I moan into Adam’s mouth loudly. His lips leave mine and he pushes open my shirt, nibbling at the swell of my breast. The pressure is building so quickly between my legs that it’s almost painful. “What are you going to do to me?” I gasp.

“I’m thanking you for being such an amazing photographer,” Adam says, amusement in his voice.

“Shut the fuck up and keep thanking me,” I respond, and he chuckles. I try to find Jaime again, realizing that he’s much closer, crawling up to the other side of me, a wild lust dancing in his eyes.

Adam pushes his hand past the fabric of my bra, the pad of his thumb brushing against my hard nipple. I gasp, keeping my eyes trained on Jaime. He whispers my name in bewilderment, in awe maybe. When Adam captures my mouth with his again, Jaime pushes up the hem of my shirt and nips at the flesh above my hipbone, sucking lightly. I whimper into Adam’s mouth as Jaime’s tongue traces my hipbone.