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“Good weekend?” He looked relaxed and rested.

Did I have a good weekend? Good wasn’t the right word. Incredible. Insane. Intense. It was possible I was walking a little funny. Shane and Finch had worn me out. After we’d had sex in bed the first time, we’d moved to the shower, and we’d done more than wash. Over the next day and a half, we’d had sex all over Finch’s house. The couch. The kitchen counter. The bench in the mudroom. Even the hallway wall when the bed had been too far away.

They took me together on the couch. I’d been bent over the arm, and Shane had fucked me from behind while I sucked Finch off. The other times it had only been one of them. Shane in the hallway. Finch in the kitchen, although Shane had come in and watched.

And all those times had been during the day. At night I’d been curled up in Finch’s large bed between them. They woke me several times just moving me as they wanted to get back inside me. Each and every time they made me come at least once.

That didn’t even count when, just before dawn, Finch had handcuffed me to the headboard, and they’d taken turns having their way with me.

I was exhausted. I wasn’t used to having sex with one guy, let alone two. Hell, I’d had more sex in forty-eight hours than I’d had in the past five years. I had no endurance. If this were to continue, I’d need to exercise or something.

While they’d been careful with the cuffs, I could still feel the sharp bite of the metal when I’d tugged against them. My inner thighs were sensitive from whisker burn as Finch had eaten me out before slowly filling me and making me come. It had been almost lazy, as if he were waking me up with orgasms. After that, Shane had wrapped my legs around his waist and all I could do was cross my ankles and take it since my hands had been restrained over my head. My pussy was sore from two huge dicks.

Every time they touched me, I craved more. Even after all the sex we’d had, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more of Shane and Finch… and that scared the crap out of me. How could I want more when they’d given me so much? My pussy should be broken, my clit numb.

But no.

“Yeah, good weekend,” I replied when I realized Nix was waiting for my answer. “I didn’t think about work.” I’d practically forgotten my name.

He grinned, then dropped into his chair behind his desk. “Me neither. Saturday we hung out at home, and yesterday we skied. I’m surprised I didn’t see you up there.”

I had a pass to Cutthroat Mountain and spent a lot of time on the slopes. We’d gone together with a group of friends in the past or run into each other at the lift. Not this weekend.

Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I was tied up.”

I bit my lip and pulled out my notes from my drawer, trying to seem casual and hoping he didn’t notice my blush.

“Ready to meet with the Oldens?” I asked, wanting to switch the topic off my fling weekend.

“Yeah, I passed them in the lobby,” Nix said. “I directed them to the coffee machine and where the interview room is. You can meet them in there.”

The Mills murder wasn’t the only case we had. The Oldens’ adult son had stolen money from them and emptied their house of valuables to sell for drugs. While they were devastated by the effects of drugs on their only child, they wanted to press charges, knowing it was best if he faced the consequences for his actions. Donovan Nash was joining us, and we hoped to come to an agreement where the son wouldn’t do jail time but be forced into rehab. It was a bad situation, but I had to hope the intervention would put the guy back on track.

“Sounds good.” I grabbed my case file and a pen. “Thanks.”

An hour later I dropped into my chair, wished my coffee cup was full. The phone on my desk rang.

“Miranski,” I said.

“I can’t believe you ditched me on Saturday for my brother.”

I huffed out a laugh at the way Poppy got right to the point.

“You sent him. Sorry,” I replied finally, leaning back.

Nix walked past, empty coffee mug in hand. I reached forward, grabbed my empty cup and waved it at him. He grabbed it and took it with him toward the break room.

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry at all.” I tried not to grin, but it was impossible. I wasn’t. Two hot men paying complete and total attention to me and giving me countless orgasms? Sorry, not sorry.

“I should hate you, but I’m just glad you two hit it off.”

“Three,” I said, then bit my lip.

?

??Three?”

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