Page 111 of Rising Heat

Late nights, lights off, my favorite purple vibrator doing its best while my brain filled in blanks it had absolutely no business filling. I was right about some of it. But the full picture is something my imagination never had the audacity to accurately complete.

Mack catches me staring, meeting my gaze without the slightest hint of surprise, like he’d been waiting for me to look.

“Morning.”

He steps back to let me inside. By the time I cross the threshold, Tyler’s already abandoned the stool, the space between the three of us shrinking without anybody seeming to make a conscious decision to move.

I look at Mack.

“Tomorrow,” I say, my body already humming.

His eyes flick to my mouth.

Behind me, Tyler settles close enough that I’m suddenly aware of both of them at once—the gravitational pull of the three of us being drawn toward the same inevitable point as electricity crackles between us.

I close my eyes and throw myself off the metaphorical cliff, rising onto my toes and pressing my lips to Mack’s.

For one suspended heartbeat, he doesn’t move, like he’s giving me every chance to change my mind.

Then all of his controlled steadiness finally snaps at once.

His hand slides into my hair, tugging me closer as his mouth claims mine, parting my lips and exploring my mouth with his tongue. Behind me, Tyler’s hand settles lightly at my waist, steadying me as much as anchoring himself, and I’m making out with one of them while leaning into the other, swallowed up by their presence before I’ve had time to think about it.

I exhale into the kiss, my hands skimming over Mack’s bare chest while Tyler’s is pressed up against mine and his lips finding the crook of my neck, the energy of all three of us turning hungrier.

“So needy already, Darcy?” Mack murmurs against my mouth, his voice rough with amusement. “This is gonna be fun.”

Tyler’s breath is warm against my skin as he lets out a low chuckle. Before I can answer, his tongue traces up toward my jaw in a way that makes my fingers curl against Mack’s chest without breaking the kiss I’m already lost in.

This, I think, distantly. This is what I moved here for.

“Tell us to stop,” Mack growls against my mouth, the words landing between kisses like he needs to hear them one last time before the three of us cross the point of no return.

“Please don’t stop,” I practically whine.

“Hear that, Mack?” Tyler murmurs against my skin. “Our little Trouble’s already enjoying herself.”

Mack answers by kissing me again, slower for a heartbeat before all restraint disappears. His hands slide to my hips just as Tyler eases me forward from behind, the two of them moving together until I’m caught neatly between them, my body following their lead before I even realize we’re moving.

A few backward steps and my hips meet the edge of the kitchen island.

Mack’s arm circles my waist, holding me against him as he continues kissing me like he’s proving a point, while Tyler’s fingertips skim lightly over my stomach until they find the hem of my T-shirt.

Is this really happening? Or am I back upstairs about to wake up with a wet hand and a bruised ego?

I lift my arms in response and the shirt goes.

Tyler lets out a sound that does significant damage to my composure.

“Christ,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his hands tracing my sides.

Somehow, in this moment, even though this began hours ago in the dark foyer, I suddenly feel shy.

Almost embarrassed.

What felt easy in the dark doesn’t feel quite as easy as what’s happening in the dim light of morning. Last night, it was all stolen kisses and shadows. Morning leaves nowhere to hide, and I’m now very aware that they aren’t just touching me, they’re actually looking at me.

Now I’m standing in their kitchen without my shirt, propped against the counter while my two extremely hot landlords ogle me like they have nowhere else they’d rather be, and suddenly my hands don’t know what to do.