my desire.
After my jerk-off session, I find that everyone but Melissa and Ivy is in the living room. I forgot all about that clusterfuck. At least she appears to be into some other dude. Still, having three women who I’ve fucked in the same house is a special kind of torture—awkward as fuck. Especially when two out of the three are still attached.
Everyone appears off into their own world, and I’m just a blip on their radar. Asher is up Lily’s butt as usual. Harlow is reading the local newspaper, and the guys are discussing where to rent some Jet Skis.
“Why don’t we use the canoe and fishing gear provided with this place to go fishing?” I suggest.
“You’re always trying to sneak your healthy shit in,” Killian points out.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Mitch speaks up. Miles and Anderson nod in agreement. “We can build another firepit and have a fish fry this afternoon.”
“And for bragging rights, we can see who catches the biggest fish.” I wink, knowing that adding a dash of competition to the mix will win them over. I just need something to occupy my time. More group time equals less alone time with Melissa.
“Game on, muthafucka,” Ren sings in the voice of the Asian guy from Hangover.
“Are you in, Asher?” Killian asks.
He’s the fixer of the group. It was his suggestion to ditch the bus for this house on the beach. He’s trying to help mend things between Asher and me. We’re not exactly talking, but at least we’re not trying to beat each other to a pulp. That’s a start.
“Sure. But just remember, when I catch not only the biggest fish but also the most fish, that you fuckers invited me along.” He smirks. He gives Lily a quick kiss on the lips, and she giggles.
“Game on then,” I say, echoing Ren’s sentiments.
“Game on.” He smiles at me, and it’s the first one since our fight.
Maybe Killian knows what he’s doing after all. The fact that I have Melissa here with me and staying away from Harlow may have a part to play, but either way, it’s another start.
“Hell, yes!” Mitch fist pumps the air.
“Are you guys going to take your dicks out and measure those too?” Ivy asks, coming in from the beach on the tail end of our conversation. She runs a hand through her red, pixie cut hair. Droplets of water fall and hit her perky little breast; her bikini so small my dick is reawakening. He may be onto something. Her green eyes meet mine in question, but I force myself to look away. My dick may want to play, but that was a moment of weakness. I can’t bring that number up to three attached pussies in the same house. Let her move on with whoever the hell has managed to snag her attention.
“Oh, I bet you’d love to be the judge of that,” Miles teases Ivy.
“Well, I’ve already seen what Phoenix’s working with, so you guys would have some big shoes to fill.” She winks at me, and again, I look away. I can’t give her any encouragement even though she’s telling the truth.
“Oh, shut it.” Anderson rolls his eyes. “Nobody wants to hear about the size of Phoenix’s package. You’re not tricking us into showing you our anacondas.”
“Yeah, let’s go get the booze and the bait for this fish fry. We can decide what’s at stake on the way.” Ren grabs the car keys.
I didn’t notice until now that Harlow was staring at me with the same sadness in her eyes from this morning. She is the first to break eye contact by bringing the newspaper back up to her face. She’s replaced the sundress with joggers and a T-shirt. Thank fuck. I don’t want the other guys seeing what I saw. I’m not going to fuck her, but that doesn’t mean I want them to have visuals for their own spank bank.
Melissa comes through the door panting, successfully interrupting my thoughts of Harlow. Her ass is hanging out of her barely there bike shorts, and her sports bra fights to contain her tits within her tank top. It’s obvious she went out for a jog. Oddly, the same feeling of possessiveness I just had for Harlow is absent. I don’t care that the guys can see her plentiful assets, but I guess I need to play the role of giving a fuck for now. She needs to think she has a chance … that I