Someday, though. Just not right now, as his hand burned a hot path on her skin, clit at the ready as if at attention and waiting for its next order. His warm sigh and low growl made her woozy. Or maybe that was the wine. At this point, it didn’t really matter which it was.
“Hot pink?” she gasped as his hand traveled under her skirt, flirting with her panties, one finger slipping under and—oh!
“Very hot,” he murmured, his lips against the corner of her mouth, her thighs quivering as one hand discovered exactly how wet she was for him, the other wrapped around her back, pinning her to him. She raised the stakes, too, by sliding her hand along his inseam, finding him hard and ready for her. Dinner? What dinner. The pasta could be purple with blue polka dots for all she cared.
He pulled back, hand slipping reluctantly from her thong, his face dark and playful all at once, with a mischievous look he pulled his hand to his lips and licked the fingertip, eyes locked on hers. Then Mike cocked his head, held his hand out for her to grasp, and nodded toward his bedroom.
“Shall we?”
I thought you’d never ask. “We shall,” she declared, clearing her throat as he twisted and pulled her gently through the doorway, the room obviously decorated by a guy, with thick leather, unfinished wood beams, and a stark, unlived-in look dominating. How long has he had this place? she wondered. It was like he’d just moved in. Too sterile.
A cream comforter with imprints of brown and green bears covered the bed, like something from a B&B that catered to ski people. The backs of her legs grazed it; soft and well worn. Mike reached out for her and, with a neutral, open expression on his face, slid his palms up her sweater, untying the sash where the wraparound stayed together, gently nudging it off her shoulders where it pooled on the floor.
His hands were so warm, his face open and inviting, intent on his actions as if making love in a meditative state. Laura knew that no matter what, one hundred percent of Mike’s attention was on her; he was so present it almost hurt, an awareness too deep and painful at times. Right now, though, she reveled in it, like finding the perfect patch of sunshine after a storm.
His hands moved under her t-shirt and slid up. She pulled her arms into position to take it off easily, his sigh the only reward she needed. Eventually, they would find their way into the bed. This dance of unveiling was worth the linger.
Reaching for his buttons, she imitated his actions, his skin softer than she remembered, the flesh tight and muscles hard beneath. As his arms folded and peeled off his shirt she watched a concert of twitches and stretches play out before her, like an artist’s rendering of male perfection—but real. His tan skin and long torso were achingly hot, looking up into his face as he bent down to kiss her like cocooning.
Nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants and unzipped him, his sharp inhale seeming to fuel the depth of his kiss, tongue pushing harder against hers and hands pressing her jaw as he tried to get a grip on what seemed like an overpowering urge. Nearly frantic, his hands made quick work of undressing her the rest of the way, leaving Laura completely naked within half a minute, Mike following after. So much for the linger.
The room was so warm that when he pulled her onto the bed, reclining in each others’ arms, she didn’t need the covers for comfort—but would have preferred them for modesty. You don’t need to hide, a voice said. It was Mike’s. In her head, though—he couldn’t have spoken, actually, because right now he was kissing her belly, his route revealing his intentions as he aimed for her womanhood.
A little sigh, almost a moan, escaped from her mouth, over her teeth and through her lips like a prayer as his hands roamed up her hips, palms and fingers splayed to take in her skin. She loved how he appreciated her body. Not tolerated—appreciated. Enjoyed.
Owned.
Her own hands were eager for more of him on them, fingers brushing against his neck, palms taking in his shoulders as—
Creak. The bedroom door opened slightly, then a footstep. She froze. Was someone else here? Mike seemed to hold his breath suddenly, though his hands continued to caress her.
To her complete mortification, Dylan walked into her line of sight.
Dylan?
She squinted, as if her eyes deceived her. Nude, in Mike’s arms —or, rather, with her legs in Mike’s face— Laura could have named five other people she’d expect to see walk through that door before she’d have anticipated Dylan.
“What are you doing here?” Laura felt exposed. He just stared at them, Mike nuzzling her belly and pointedly not looking up. Caught. She was caught. She hadn’t been exclusive with either guy, so she shouldn’t feel guilty, but she did.
And what the hell was Dylan, of all people, doing here right now?
He gestured toward the door. “Uh, your front door was open, and I came here to say hi, and when I saw it ajar I was worried about you and came in to make sure you were OK.” He shot Mike a dark look. “I see you’re more than OK.”
Laura choked, not sure what to say, laying naked on the bed with Mike going down on her, like something out of a bad soap opera. A bad, kinky soap opera. “So, uh, I don’t know what to say.” Her face burned red with embarrassment.
And more. It was like her dreams, her shower fantasies, had come to life, as if somehow the universe had read her mind (or, at least, Dylan and Mike had) and decided to make this all come true. But it was too real, too creepy, and she found herself immobilized by the surreal.
Yet turned on beyond belief.
Finally, Dylan said, “I’m so sorry.” But he didn’t mean it. His face burned with desire. And if Mike could see her face right now, she feared, he’d read her lust on her face, too.
Laura knew Dylan could make her wet. Those perfect, sculpted abs. And the thatch of hair at his waist—mmmmm. Those thick, sinewy arms folded across his chest. Smart, gleaming eyes and a smile like molasses reminded her of his sensuality.
Clever eyes, with flecks of gold, read her like a professor studying historic documents. He felt it, too. Everything but Mike disappeared.
A shot of destiny made her want them both, for they were meant for her, as one. Both were reeling.
Mike cleared his throat. “Want to clue me in?” His face rested on her thigh. She almost forgot he was there. The scent of her permeated Mike’s skin and there it was again, that wave of guilt, but this time tinged with...possibility? Something crackled in the air between the three of them, a subtext she didn’t understand, and Laura was starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, these two complete strangers were planning something that she didn’t see coming.
A dog barked outside. Her senses froze. That was crazy, right? Apparently, they knew each other, though. How did they—?
Dylan crossed the room fast. Then he stripped off his shirt. “Can we make this a triad?”
Laura’s insides clenched and her body tingled. His rippled torso made her drool. He gave Mike a conspirator’s half smile. There it was—a familiarity between them. Both were the alpha type yet they seemed less interested in establishing control and more interested in—her?
Laura was caught between the two men. What would Mike say?
Mike cleared his throat. “It’s been a while, but...”
“You’ve, uh, done this before?” she blurted out, the words escaping before she could push them back in.
“You haven’t?” His voice carried a sweet, incredulous tone. Her breath disappeared as he traced a lazy circle at the hollow of her throat. This was less an invitation and more a requirement.
“No, I mean—you two know each other?” Duh, Laura. Of course they did. “How do you...but I’ve been dating you both!”
“We know,” they said in unison.
Their chuckles made her even wetter, if that were possible. Mike looked up and caught her eye, one eyebrow cocked.
Cold blood flooded every cell of her body. This was a set up? Dylan and Mike not only knew that she’d been dating the other but they were some sort of item?
And they wanted a threesome with her? Go with it, her heart said. Maybe that wasn’t her heart. Something much lower on her body swelled and pulsated, eager for her showerhead fantasies to come to life with flesh.
She liked it. Laura stared impolitely at Dylan’s chest, eyed him up and down, and then turned back to Mike. Staring deep into Mike’s eyes, she squinted and sighed in torment.
“Is this really what you want?” Please say yes, she thought.
Dylan groaned. “I vote yes!” he purred. His eyes were burning for her.
“Mike?” she asked. He licked her hip, rubbing his nose on the soft flesh where her belly and thigh met, the nuzzle somehow both playful and sensual.
“I’d say that’s a yes,” she moaned. A drunk feeling enveloped her. Dylan’s tan, muscled hands undid his jeans. Meanwhile, Mike resumed his activities. She closed her eyes. Her ears heard Dylan’s jeans hit the floor. God, how she loved his ass. Her nipp**les tightened.
Two more hands roamed over her skin. She shivered, a sharp inhale and a wetness making her nearly cum. The tongue Mike flicked drove all thought away. She couldn’t breathe now, was just a mass of nerve endings and goo.
Imagining Dylan’s co**ck in her at the same time as Mike’s made her moan and tweak her own nipple. A strong hand pushed it away.
