Page 38 of Moto
“Get the fucking tomatoes.” I ignore him and turn on the oven.
Fuck my life.
By the time dinner is done, Dev is walking through the door. I don’t know how I end up cooking every time I’m here, but I’ve learned it keeps Reese busy and out of my hair.
“Smells good in here.” Dev appears in the kitchen entryway and inhales.
“Steak and salad,” I announce. “All-American meal.”
“I thought that was steak and potatoes?” Reese tosses in his two cents just to be a pest.
“Not in this house,” I set him straight.
“Looking a little thick, bro. Been upping your weight?” Dev slaps Reese’s arm as he goes for a bottle of red wine on the counter. I’ve learned this is his unwind glass after a long day.
Reese flexes his bicep, and I almost pass out; he’s wearing a tight, white muscle shirt that accentuates every effing bulge and ripple. I turn away and pretend to fiddle with anything within reaching distance.
I hear chuckling and sneering behind me and can only look up at the ceiling for salvation. These two. These fucking two.
“Okay,” I announce, flustered. “Everything is ready. All you have to do is eat.” I turn and look at them. They both pin me with the same wicked stare. Time to go. Now.
“Aren’t you going to stay?” Dev stalks me on one side while Reese blocks me on the other.
“I’d love to, but I really need to get a run in.”
“After we eat,” Reese pushes. By no means does he mean eat dinner. He means eat me.
“Not tonight.” Usually, I stay. But red flags are waving.
“C’mon. Dinner is no fun without you.” Reese brushes up against me.
Fuck.
“It’s not supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be sustenance. Which you clearly need.” I motion to his cast. “You’re still healing.”
“I’m fine. We go back to the doctor next week for the aircast. I’m practically healed.”
“You’re not practically healed,” I argue. “You have another four weeks in the aircast. Then you will be healed.”
“Go inside and sit down,” Reese orders. “I say when I’m healed.”
Dev laughs.
“Do you think Mr. Bossy is being funny?” I ask, cross.
“I do. Because you always seem to listen to him. Makes me wonder about you.”
“Makes you wonder what?” I question.
“If you like to be dominated in bed,” Reese answers bluntly for Dev.
My jaw drops slightly. “Do you like to dominate?” I fire back inquisitively at Dev.
“Sometimes,” he answers candidly.
“Nice to know.” I push past them. “That is about all the information I need tonight. See you tomorrow.” I hightail it outta there, my hormones running on high octane. I swear my pussy aches more and more every time I leave that house. I know what’s in store for me when I go to bed tonight. A vision of Dev in leather pants wielding a whip, commanding me to come.
I know I should just quit. Rid myself of the lecherous Dane brothers and never look back. But if I’m honest, I’m a glutton for punishment. I’m both a sadist who denies herself of her desires and a masochist who revels in the depriving pain.
