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“Are you serious, Ed?” Ollie says. He looks like he’s won the lottery. Artie looks more reluctant, but I can tell he’s considering it.
Susan straightens her shoulders. “I meant what I said. I’m down if you are.”
“Upstairs,” I say. “Right now.”
5
SUSAN
Draft Excerpt:
I look into the eyes of the handsome stranger, feeling nothing but gratitude. Time slows down until it feels like he and I are the only people in the world. I no longer care that I’m practically naked in front of a stranger, my tits exposed as he presses down on my chest and administers CPR.
As soon as he senses I’m all right, he pulls me into an upright position.
“You just saved my life,” I whisper.
“It was my duty,” the guy says, his voice gruff. “I’m the park ranger. You’re in my territory.”
“I could have died,” I say as I cough, clearing the blocked air in my chest. He rubs my back gently.
“You’re bleeding, but don’t worry, I have a first aid box in my car,” he says. He then looks up and yells. “Jared, get that kit for me ASAP.”
I look up to see another guy making his way toward me, this one so hot that I think I’ve passed out and hit myself on my head. He has broad shoulders that flex as he walks, and I can’t take my eyes off him. I look away only when the park ranger grips my arm possessively.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks.
I can’t get the words out of my mouth. The other guy, meanwhile, has already reached us. He looks down at me, and his eyes darken with lust. That’s when I realize he can see my tits through my ripped bra. My areolas swell under his gaze, and I imagine him taking one in his mouth and sucking.
I won’t lie. I’ve always thought about what it’s like for the heroines in my books. First, it was Wren—the heroine from my first reverse harem book who fell in love with the Mafia boss and his most competent men. It was pre-pandemic when reverse harem was just starting to take off. Two weeks after publication, it hit number one on the New York Times bestsellers list. My book had rave reviews, and my audience was primarily women, so the most common feedback I got was that they had always fantasized about being worshipped by multiple hot men. And I was the one making their dreams come true. That’s the only thing all my books have in common—the heroes are ready to give everything to the woman they love. Who wouldn’t want that?
Even when I’m drafting, the thought gets me hot and heavy. I feel like we all want that—to be the center of attention—somewhere underneath all our layers. To be the sun while the other planets orbit around us.
That’s what it feels like with the Lewis brothers. Their gazes are fixed on me, waiting for my answer.
I lick my lips and all three pairs of gorgeous green eyes drop to my mouth. Even though the three of them are exactly alike in their physical traits, I can’t deny that I’m attracted to each in their own way.
They’re big, with huge walls of chest, tattoos running down their arms and peeking from the t-shirts that cling to their bodies. My mouth waters at the sight of them.
There’s something wild and untamed about them that’s unlike any other man I’ve dated before.
“So?” Ollie finally says, breaking the silence.
In my head, I imagine them reaching for me as soon as I say yes. Their hands would be all over me, touching and caressing. My cunt squeezes almost painfully at the thought, and my stomach somersaults. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted or haven’t thought about finding myself in a situation like this over the years. Although, I’d thought it would turn out differently, like finding swingers who were willing to include me, or a fun night out with a polyamorous couple who wanted to explore with more people.
But never like this.
I look up at Ed, who’s looking down at me, his eyes half-mast.
It feels like bait. Ed is too intense. He doesn’t seem like a man who would want to share his bed with others, let alone his brothers.
I won’t lie; I’ve always thought about what it would be like for siblings to share a girl in one of my books. I even had a plot thought out for it and all, but I never had the courage to send it to my agent, let alone my editor.
And here I am, sitting on the couch in the middle of a raging snowstorm, with nobody else for miles. I’m entirely at the mercy of these three brothers, for them to do as they please with me. Instead of scaring me, it thrills me. There’s obviously something fucked-up about me. Is this why I write my books the way I do, as some cathartic release?
I mean, I’m not a prude. I’ve had my share of boyfriends and my kinks in bed would put some people to shame. But this is something else.
Before I can chicken out, I pull myself to my feet. Even standing, I’m about a foot shorter than Ed. Ollie and Artie follow me, their hot breaths grazing my neck as they stand around me in a circle.
