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I guess we’re loud enough, though, because the next time I manage to open my eyes, it’s just in time to see Drew leaning up to pull the shirt over my head.
“Jesus. Drew.” Startled, I lift up away from Cooper’s magic mouth, accidentally leaning hard into Drew at the same time.
Cooper tightens his grip on my hips and yanks me back down but not before I hear him mutter, “About time.”
Guess he had a plan all along. I don’t have time to argue though, as Drew throws the blankets off the bed and kneels up, straddling Cooper’s hips. Coop goes still.
“Don’t mind me,” says Drew, leaning over to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside table. He pours it into his hand to warm for a moment before slicking himself up. “I’m just along for the ride.”
He takes Cooper’s cock in a firm grip, smearing the lube between them.
Cooper groans beneath me and I realize he can’t see a thing, what with my ass in the way. It must be like being blindfolded, just letting somebody else handle him this way. The thought turns me on more than I thought possible, causing me to rock into Cooper’s mouth. He takes the hint, redoubling his efforts on my clit, sliding two fingers right where I need them.
“God, Cooper.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” says Drew, his own hips grinding as he works their cocks together with both hands. His grip is harder than I’d ever dare, squeezing and pressing, massaging firmly then lightening up enough to stroke with his fingertips. I can never guess what he’s going to do next; it’s mesmerizing to watch. “What do you think? You gonna let Cooper make you come this way?”
I moan again, no longer able to form words as Cooper works me over with his fingers and tongue. This weird position, with every part of me on display, suddenly seems like the hottest idea ever invented, with Drew’s eyes on me and his hands on their cocks and Cooper’s mouth on my clit. In the end it’s the sight of them together that sends me over the edge, crying out in the dark.
I hear Cooper gasping and then he’s coming too, thrusting his hips hard enough to make Drew bounce. It works for Drew, too, because that sets him off like he was barely holding on in the first place.
A long moment later, after I’ve slid off to one side and Coop’s wiped his face on the sheet and Drew’s planted his fists on the mattress to catch his breath, somebody’s alarm starts blaring loudly from the other room.
Getting ready for the day is an experience. Despite two deluxe bathrooms and plenty of mirrors to work with, there’s somehow never enough space for me to get ready for the day without getting felt up by one man or the other. Yet we manage to make it to the second floor ballroom—Sizzle’s temporary HQ—without incident. Once the elevator doors open, Cooper takes off into the crowd, milling around without a word. Drew squeezes my hand swiftly before heading in the opposite direction. Having compared schedules on the ride down, it was likely we’d all be on our own most of the day.
Filming doesn’t start until tomorrow for the Final Five episode. Drew said today is all promotional stuff—interviews, photo shoots, last minute setup and the like. I spend two hours waiting for hair and makeup to get around to making me presentable, then another couple of hours waiting for my turn to talk to Archer Burke, who’s acting as host this time around.
All this hurry up and wait suits me down to the ground today. If I were at home, I’d be doing Bailey’s Trademarked Freak-Out Routine—often involving hair dye of some hue, and possibly also property damage, if my last episode is anything to go by. Here in front of all these people though, I’m left to deal with my feelings.
Like an actual adult. What the fuck.
There are a lot of them—the feelings. Feelings for Cooper, obviously. The kind that started years ago and never got resolved. That they never got resolved is my own fault, of course; I can admit it. But dealing with them here and now… that’s new for me.
And Drew. All the feelings for Drew I’ve had, also for years. Some are old, some are new. A lot of them are overwhelming.
Hell, all of this is overwhelming. Or it should be. I should be freaking out. It’s kind of what I do, and that’s one of the many ways this whole situation is different. I’m different when I’m with them. With Drew and Cooper I don’t have to be anybody but me. There’s no pressure, no sense of disappointment or unmet expectations. They take me as I am. Hell, they want me as I am, both of them.
And yeah, both. That’s the kicker. It’s a lot to deal with.
I don’t have to defend myself to them. I only ever have to ask for what I want, and it’s done—no explanations or rationalizations or arguments or “maybe some other time.” They respect me.
The thought sets off a small explosion in the vicinity of my chest.
“You all right, sweetie?” The makeup tech working on another contestant the next chair over gives me a worried look. I nod, taking a deep breath.
“Just a bit crowded,” I manage. The makeshift dressing room is overrun with people. The tech nods knowingly and launches into a story about the worst job she ever worked, featuring a tiny trailer and sixteen people in the dead heat of summer. The story distracts the others around us, thank God, since everybody who could hear her was looking at me sideways, waiting for me to freak out or something.
Which still isn’t out of the question. It never occurred to me, not until right this minute, how gratifying, how unexpected it is to be honored like that, the way my guys are with me. And Drew and Cooper do it automatically.
Why is that so rare? Do I really expect to be treated otherwise? Is that how people see me?
Worse… is that how I see myself?
Thinking back, I remember plenty of compromises, concessions made or requests delayed or denied. I cannot for the life of me remember any one time where I stood my ground and refused to give in.
Except these last couple of weeks—with the competition.
With Cooper. With Drew.
