“How are things coming along?” she said.
I looked over my shoulder and watched Bonita wrap her arms around Trevor’s neck, pull him down and give him a kiss. It brought a smile to my face. I was happy for them, happy for us. Maybe we can make this work. Who’s the uptight one in the group, now, Seth?
“Noah’s finding a lot of dirt on Angelica Fay,” said Trevor.
“Is that right?” She came back to me. Her hand was again on my shoulder.
I stood from the chair. “Turns out I’m good at exploring secret places.” I put my hand on her hips and slid them down her legs. I planted a kiss on her chest as my hands slid back up her legs and found her crotch.
She pushed me away, but she was smiling. Trevor came up behind her and grabbed her ass with both hands.
“Hey.” She jumped and turned to him. Now she had her back to me. And her backside was spectacular.
Both Trevor and I had the same thing in mind. We both grabbed at her ass at the same time.
“Woah, down, boys.” Bonita slipped out from between us.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, spinning her around so her backside was flush against my stiff cock. I locked her arm in mine. Her other hand was free. I couldn’t restrain it since I needed a free hand to undo the buttons of her shirt. She didn’t try to stop me. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, turning her head so my mouth could find hers.
I kissed her, and I pulled her bra down.
At the sight of her exposed, heaving breasts, Trevor pounced. He took her breasts in his hands. He opened his mouth wide, brought his tongue flat to her hardened nipple and lapped greedily.
I slid my free hand down to her crotch, and I rubbed, and I pressed her farther against me. My dick was so hard I thought it would burst through my pants.
Bonita slipped her arm free from the hold I’d let slacken. She giggled. She pushed Trevor back and spun away from my embrace. “Not today, boys. I need at least twenty-four hours to recover.” She adjusted her bra and buttoned up her shirt.
She must have seen the hurt looks on our faces because she followed that up immediately with, “Okay, at least twelve hours.”
“It’s been like sixteen already,” said Trevor. He brushed her hair off her neck and leaned in for a kiss.
“Seventeen, actually,” I said. “But who’s counting.” I took her hand and pulled her gently toward me.
She slipped free again and backed away. “Okay, I see we’re going to have to come up with some rules.”
“Rules,” I objected. “Nobody likes rules.”
She cocked her head to the side and frowned. “Okay, I see we’re going to have to come up with a system.”
Bonita called another meeting.
“Listen, guys, I love you all very much,” she said, “and we’re all good friends. We work together well. We play together well. But if we’re going to add a new dynamic to our relationship, I’m worried that might create some jealousy.” She looked each of us in the eyes.
We all nodded. None of us rebutted or interjected.
“I’m also worried about fatigue,” she added.
“I’m recovering fine,” said Landon.
Bonita cocked her head to the side and frowned. “I was talking about me.”
We were standing in a semicircle. Bonita walked by us, running her hand along our chests and cheeks as she spoke. “I propose one guy a night. There are seven of you. That means a different one of you for every day of the week. We’ll keep it simple and fair like this. So no jealousy, no problems.”
No one put up any objection.
At least I could be with her one day a week. That’s better than nothing.
We drew straws to find out which day we’d be assigned. My day was Thursday: three days away.
Forty-eight hours, Noah. You can make it through forty-eight hours. Technically, fifty-two hours, but who’s counting?
13
Bonita
I have no idea how I managed to get any work done when I was a virgin.
Since coming to Iceland and liberating myself, indulging in the cravings of the flesh, I found I had a whole new burst of creative energy and inspiration. None of Landon’s ideas were too daring or too dangerous—neither for the film nor for the bedroom.
Noah had dug up a lot of dirt on Angelica Fay. He had a talent for probing his subject in a deep and thorough fashion. I made sure Angelica Fay wasn’t the only subject he probed deep and exhaustively. I also made sure to let him know that Angelica wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.
Ken was able to take the shots and clips I gave him and explore them from new angles—a talent of his I also exploited on the stairwell. Hanging onto one stair, my leg propped on another, my other leg propped on another still. I was definitely making good use of my yoga training in Iceland.