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“Because they’re all fun for a night or two, but after that…” I wrinkled my nose.
“I’ve always suspected you were allergic to monogamy.”
“Yes, I am. It gives me hives that make me itch. Besides, you might be happy with two men slobbering all over you, but…gag me, I like my freedom. Now where’s the coffee?” I asked, changing the subject as I bumped my hip against hers and climbed out of bed.
“Downstairs in the big, scary kitchen.” Her voice wobbled in a creepy tone, and she made an evil face as she wiggled her fingers, like a wicked witch casting a spell.
“You’re such a goof-ball,” I laughed as I pulled on my robe and secured the sash. Flashing Sanna a mischievous grin, I stepped closer toward the door. “Last one to the kitchen gets to eat what’s fixed.”
Dashing out of the room, Savannah was hot on my heels. We both ran down the stairs like a herd of rampaging elephants, stopping when a fit of giggles hit us at the same time. We hadn’t played that stupid game since she was in high school. Savannah would do almost anything to avoid eating what I cooked….or rather, burned. I had skills, but definitely not in the kitchen.
Dylan and Nick rounded the corner, staring up at us as if we’d lost our marbles while both Sanna and I laughed like a couple of loons. Nick held a phone against his ear and scowled. Dylan simply watched our antics with a goofy grin, shaking his head in disbelief at our crazy behavior.
“Shhh,” I giggled, pressing a finger to my lips. “Nick’s on the phone, and he looks like he’s ready to spank your ass.”
A devilish glint flashed in Savannah’s eyes. Spinning around on the stair, she wiggled her backside, taunting the two men. “Here it is, baby. Come and get it. It’s all yours.”
Nick bit back a smile. Dylan’s eyes flashed wide in surprise as he laughed. Still giggling, Sanna turned and blew a kiss to her Masters. Without missing a beat of his conversation, Nick reached behind his head. Pulling the leather strip that held his long, ebony hair free, his raven mane spilled down over his shoulders. Pinning Sanna with a disapproving expression, he nodded toward his feet in silent instruction.
Darting a nervous glance my way, she padded down the rest of the stairs. Once at the bottom, Nick motioned for her to turn around. A tiny ‘oops’ seeped from Sanna’s lips. Wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear, Nick took the leather strap and bound her wrists behind her back, then pointed her toward the kitchen.
“Not the rice, please,” she whispered with a beseeching plea.
Nick swatted her ass. With a fierce scowl, he pointed more adamantly than before.
Joining the two men at the bottom of the stairs, I looked up at Dylan.
“Rice?” I whispered.
With a hungry smile poised on his lips, Dylan watched the sway of my sister’s ass as she walked away. “Uh-huh.”
“Do I even want to know?” I swallowed tightly.
“You’ve never been punished with rice?” Dylan asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not in the lifestyle. Not anymore.”
My remark caught Dylan off-guard. He arched his brows and cocked his head, gazing into my eyes with a curious stare.
“You know, it’s not a light switch you can turn off and on, Mellie. If the desire truly burns inside, it will catch fire no matter how hard you try to wish it away.” Studying me intently, he frowned. “Something bad happened to you, didn’t it? That’s why you left the lifestyle.”
His spot-on assessment crushed down on me like a ton of bricks. Dylan—the happy-go-lucky of the two—had seen right through me. Either he was psychic, or I had been more transparent than I thought. Either way, I felt naked and exposed. I quickly averted my gaze to keep him from gaining even more insight.
“I’ve worked through some bad shit, too. When you’re ready, we’ll swap stories. It might do you some good.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded, knowing damn good and well that day would never come. Then, like a big ol’ puss-bucket, I turned and scurried away to find Savannah.
Unnerved by Dylan’s keen assessment, my worries quickly changed focus when I found my sister nervously pacing in the kitchen. Surely, they weren’t going to punish her for our childish behavior, would they?
“I flippin’ hate rice as a punishment.”
Evidently, they would.
“Why can’t they just spank my ass?” she moaned.
“Because you’d like it, precious,” Nick announced with a devious chuckle as he and Dylan entered the room.
She jerked her head toward the two men. Regret lined her face. “I didn’t mean to make you mad, Masters. Mel and I were just dorkin’ around like we used to. You know…last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg kind of thing? Only, I didn’t want to be the rotten egg because I’d have to eat what Mellie fixed, and well, Mellie’s a lousy cook.”
