Party of Three: A H.O.T. Cops Novel by Lacey Alexander Page A

one most women would never get. And yeah, she was an analyzer, and she’d been raised with certain mores, certain ideas of what was right and wrong and normal. But maybe she was simply overworrying this. Maybe this was the one weekend of her life where she was meant to throw that all out the window—all that history, all that moral training. Maybe now was the time to truly embrace this gift from Ethan and enjoy it the way he wanted her to. Maybe, beginning now, she would follow her physical whims, answer her body’s calls, and start doing … whatever she felt like.
    One kiss with Ethan turned into another, and another—slow, deep, lingering kisses that reached down inside her, leaving a warmth that radiated from her core outward. And whether from what they’d experienced together last night or the conversation they’d had just now, she felt closer to him than ever before—and maybe just a little bold, too.
    Looping one leg over him as they traded sensual tongue kisses, she eased her hand downward, squarely between his legs. He moaned when she found his hardening cock, closing a gentle but firm fist around it through his underwear to knead and caress.
    Working on pure instinct now, she sat up and straddled him in the hammock, same as she had yesterday afternoon down by the lake. But already this time, things were hotter than yesterday just by virtue of the new bond she shared with him. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she sensed that bond solidifying. And at the same time she truly felt what she’d merely just decided a minute ago—she’d been too sensitive last night, evaluated it all too much. She needed to simply enjoy this, let herself go, be as dirty as she wanted to be, as sexual as she wanted to be, even aggressive if that’s what she chose.
    With that inspiration in mind, she reached between her breasts and yanked sharply at the thin cotton fabric that kept them bound until the top buttons came undone. She then used both hands to pull the white eyelet open, freeing her aching tits. Ethan released a small growl that fueled her, making her pussy hum as she rubbed it against the stiff length in his boxer briefs.
    As she began a slow, rhythmic grind, he spoke in a deep rasp. “Be my dirty birthday girl and fuck me.”
    She bit her lip, turned on. That was more like something Rogan would say— would have said to her, years ago—than Ethan, but she understood. He was pushing her a little, letting her know it really was okay. For her. For him. And she couldn’t help but respond. Whatever your body wants, I want you to have it.
    She followed the pure animal instinct to reach up, pinch her taut nipples, pulling, tugging, the sensation shooting straight to her crotch, and amplified by the glaze of lust now shimmering in Ethan’s eyes. She undulated harder on that beautifully stiffened shaft of his, drinking in the sensations now as easily as she inhaled the scent of summer rain. Was Rogan hearing them, listening, watching? She didn’t care. Did the look on her face tell Ethan that she really did feel dirty right now, in the good way, the liberating way, the letting-go way? She didn’t care much about that either, yet at the same time she hoped he was enjoying this as much as she suddenly was.
    Without further ado, she leaned back slightly, reached into the opening of his underwear, and extracted his erection, which she thought looked particularly hot and hard this morning. She let out a “Mmm” as the very sight of it trickled through her like a warm drink of alcohol, and she worked the shaft in her hand easily for a moment before rising on her knees, using her free hand to pull aside the strip of cotton between her legs, then smoothly impaling herself.
    They both moaned as their bodies came together during her descent, and unexpected images filled her brain. The way Rogan had felt inside her last night. Ethan putting this same cock in her mouth, then using it on her breast. And at the same time, she