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“What about you, Miles?” Eleanor chimed in with a curious look. Little did she know, her son was too busy circling his fingers around my clit to be paying attention.
Miles looked up at her. “What about me?”
“Julian’s moving home. Raegan seems to be considering it. What about you?”
He smiled and shrugged, lazily rolling his finger over my clit again. I was wriggling in my seat, about to fucking come undone right here at the table while he played with my clit and Julian slowly slid his finger in and out of me.
Abruptly, Miles stopped, slowly moving his hand back to my thigh. His fingers were damp against my skin and I fought the urge to groan in protest. Julian followed his lead and dragged his finger out of me, before giving my thigh a squeeze.
I looked between them.
“I suppose if they both come back, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t too,” Miles said before winking at me. “After all, I’d much rather be here with them than back on the East Coast where there’s nothing.”
My breath caught in my throat as he absentmindedly stroked the inside of my thigh. Julian released my other leg and I glanced over at him as I felt the absence of his hand on my flesh. He lifted it from under the table and his eyes met mine as he slid his finger around the rim of his beer bottle.
The same finger that was just inside me.
My nostrils flared and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, clamping down hard as his gaze held mine and he lifted the glass bottle to his lips. His tongue darted out, licking my taste from the rim before swallowing back some of the liquid.
I was going to melt into a damn puddle at the table. I wanted both of them immediately, except there was one problem.
We were stuck in a house full of our families.
“Raegan, you should probably eat your food before it gets cold,” my mother said, breaking through the silence that had settled between the three of us.
Julian smirked. Miles chuckled. And I ducked my head, attempting to hide the blush blossoming across my face as I stared down at my food. I shoveled a forkful into my mouth and tried to pretend that Julian’s finger wasn’t just inside me and that his best friend wasn’t playing with my pussy at the same time.
I never was very good at pretending.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
“Do you guys want to go into the basement and play pool?” Julian asked Miles and I as we were helping clean up. Julian’s mother had served dessert to everyone after dinner and our parents had retired into the den, leaving us to clear off the table and load everything into the dishwasher.
I rinsed off the last plate and handed it to Miles as he set it on the rack inside the dishwasher. Julian was throwing out the soiled paper towels he had used to wipe down the counters.
“I’m down,” Miles said with a shrug as he stood upright. He glanced at me. “What about you, sweets?”
I looked at the door that led to the hall. Just down the hallway, I could hear our parents' voices as they laughed and reminisced. There was a part of me that wondered if we were supposed to be with them, but this time was ours now.
The tension in the air was so thick, it was washing over my skin.
“Sure,” I said softly as I dried my hands. They led the way and I followed behind as we left the kitchen and headed down to the basement. The space was massive and just as I remembered from when we were younger. As you walked into the main area, there was a bar tucked in the corner, along with a pool table occupying the center of the room. Along the far side of the room was a sitting area, equipped with a sectional couch.
There was a door off to the side that had once led to their theater room. We had spent many snowy nights inside there, watching various movies. It had been quite some time since we were all in there together.
My gaze lingered for a moment on the door while Julian and Miles set up the pool table. I slowly walked over to the table, watching Julian as he set the white ball across from the triangle of other balls. I grabbed a pool stick from the rack on the wall.
“How do the two of you feel about upping the stakes?” Miles asked as he spun the cue chalk around the end of his stick.
Julian raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m interested.”
“But you haven’t even heard what he’s proposing.”
Julian glanced at me. “I’m interested,” he repeated, his voice lower and thick with lust.
My breathing hitched and I swallowed roughly, my tongue instinctively darting out to wet my lips as I looked at Miles. “What are the conditions?”
“It’s simple,” he said quietly as he began to walk around the table. “You call your shot. Ball and pocket. If you make it, you’re safe. If you don’t, you have to do whatever the other two say.”
