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"And what meal can I expect?" I ask.
"We have prepared pesto chicken with grilled green beans and cherry tomatoes for the royal lady." Jeremiah bends at the middle, giving an exaggerated bow.
I chuckle. "Now we're talking. And dessert?"
"We can make whatever you want."
"I like a man at my command."
Ezekiel gives a wicked grin. "Well, that's Jeremiah's thing. When it's my turn, you'll be doing whatever I want."
And just like that, the sexual tension in the room skyrockets, sending heat rushing to my pussy. Without a single touch, I'm ready to moan right here, right now at just the thought of what's to come.
Jeremiah snickers, making me look over at him as he says, "Take your shoes off. Stay a while."
I toe my shoes off as I watch them walk back into the kitchen. Taking my time finally looking at the living room and dining room, I eventually make it to the kitchen. Ezekiel is stirring something in a pan while Jeremiah puts down three plates on a smaller table in the corner of the kitchen. Jeremiah pulls out a chair for me and I sit down. Then, he's walking to the refrigerator, so I turn my attention to Ezekiel turning the stovetop off. He looks over his shoulder so quickly, I don't have time to look away. The bastard winks at me. It sends the filthiest of things rushing through my mind. Him giving me that same wink as I come on his tongue, or as he slides his cock deep inside of me.
"You look like you need it." Jeremiah chuckles.
He places a glass cup on the table and although I mean to glare at him, I end up blinking when I see it's my favorite drink.
"How did you..." I fade off.
"I notice a lot," he simply says.
I look at Jeremiah walk away again, but it's not desire that floods me now, although that's there, too. I'd be fine if it were only that, but it's mostly interest, curiosity...like. I cannot like him or Ezekiel. What they do to me, with me, but not them.
"Boy, those wheels just never stop turning, do they?" Ezekiel shakes his head, walking over with the pan.
"What do you mean?"
"You make this face when you're thinking," he answers. "And anyone thinking that hard, is thinking about things they shouldn't be. Or, that's my experience."
My eyebrows shoot up and I gasp. "You...think? Wow, you continue to surprise me."
"You’re trying to rile me, but instead, it just excites me."
I swallow as Jeremiah joins us. Ezekiel places the pan atop a cloth and puts a good amount of chicken on each of our plates before Jeremiah puts the green beans and tomatoes.
"This looks good," I compliment. "Thank you."
"I think those are the most civil words you've ever said to us," Ezekiel states.
I look at him through my lashes, knowing without even needing to think that he's right. Civil feels far too close to friendly. And the way I feel when I'm around them, friendly feels too risky. Maybe it is possible, but I find I'm too afraid to find out. Ezekiel's words make me wonder if he can somehow read my mind.
"Can I ask you to turn your mind off for the night?" he asks. At my silence, he continues. "I won't ask what's going on up there, but right here, right now, we're just three people enjoying a goodmeal. And when we're done, we're gonna go to the bedroom and show you the exact reason why you missed us all week."
That makes me laugh as I roll my eyes and pick up my fork. I'm not sure I can completely turn off my mind, although my heart feels like it's really the problem, but I tell him I will try anyway. The conversation flows easily then, but I do manage to hush my mind each time it tells me I'm treading in dangerous waters. I can separate the two, the men I'm eating with, and the men I'll be naked with later.
"How did you get into the gym business?" I ask them. "Wait a minute, how many do you guys have?"
"Three," Ezekiel answers. "One here, and two in neighboring states."
"Our mother got us into this." Jeremiah chuckles.
"Your mother got you into the gym?" I question.
"My mother is the type that she will never just sit around and wallow," Jeremiah begins. "She thinks you should turn your pain, or whatever, into action. So, after our father left us." Not her, us. God, I know how that feels all too well. "She started working out...a lot. She took us with her. The gym let us play on the equipment, within reason, while she was there. Then, they started paying us to clean off the equipment, little jobs around the place, until when we were teenagers, we were full time employees. Plus, we'd started working out a lot, too. So, when the owner of the gym decided to retire, we offered to buy the gym from him, and here we are."
