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"Does your mother still work out?"
Ezekiel laughs. "She's moved on since then to many things. She likes to keep very busy, hates being idle. So, she's done cycling,pottery, gardening, hiking, rock climbing, on and on. Right now, her latest hobby is photography."
"As her sons, you had better be showering her with the very best cameras."
"Of course," Jeremiah agrees. "What else are sons for?"
"Ah, so you're mama's boys?"
"Proud to be," Ezekiel states. "How about your mother?"
I swallow, trying to figure out how to answer that without making this conversation take a turn.
"Ah, ah, ah," Jeremiah tsks. "No mind racing."
I shrug. "Okay, well I guess the easiest way to explain it is I kind of felt like I raised my mother instead of the other way around."
Both their brows raise, and yeah, this took a turn.
"Are you two close?" Ezekiel asks.
"We speak every Sunday, religiously. Sometimes a little more. We know what's going on in the other's life, but I feel like that's all we know. If that makes sense."
"It does. That’s how it is with our father," Jeremiah says. "Or how it was, anyway, before he just stopped coming around altogether. He was in our lives before our parents got divorced, but just barely. Never really there, never really present."
I nod, putting more chicken in my mouth.
"And you? How did you get into event planning?" Ezekiel questions.
I smile. "I have been planning events since I was in third grade, and I learned a girl in my class's mother had forgotten her birthday. I had a birthday party ready to go for her by the time we got back from lunch. I was hooked from then on. I love seeingthings come together and just seeing people celebrate. I love picking colors, venues, the invitations, everything. Although, I'll admit, this charity event for the hospital has me on the verge of panic for weeks now."
"You're gonna do great," Jeremiah says. "Look out how quickly and well you pulled off the wedding. I wish we'd had you around to do our grand opening parties."
I sit up straighter, excitement filling me. "Don't say stuff like that to me. I will have an event planned before the sun rises."
"If we open a fourth, you're our girl."
Our girl.A violent shiver rakes through me at his words. And from the way Ezekiel's eyes darken and Jeremiah licks his lips, they both notice.
"I think we should give Lexa a tour now," Ezekiel tells Jeremiah, but there's a huskiness in his voice that wasn't there before. It sends heat rushing through me yet again.
I'd been able to ignore the wetness between my thighs while we were talking, but it's front and center in my mind now. My nipples hard, panties soaking, heart beating fast. Dinner is done and now it's time for the real reason I came here to begin.
"Where does the tour end?" I ask, breathlessly.
"In the bedroom," Ezekiel answers. "Where there's a bed that I expect you to climb on and spread those thighs for me."
"I won't be naked."
Jeremiah smirks. "You will be by the time you get there."
Then, they're both standing, and I look up at them on both sides of me, crowding me. Jeremiah pulls back my chair and Ezekiel extends his hand to me, helping me up. My legs are shaky as I stand, lust thrumming through me as Jeremiah's hand goes tomy lower back and they both begin urging me forward. We go to the stairs, and that's where my trail of clothes begins. Jeremiah takes my skirt off, lowering it with each step up until it's pooling at my feet, left behind when I reach the landing. Ezekiel walks backwards so he can bring my shirt over my head. Jeremiah's hands are unsnapping my bra while Ezekiel stops me to drop to his knees and drag my panties down.
Jeremiah's lips make me sigh, kissing along my shoulders, from the left to the right as Ezekiel's fingers ghost back up my thighs. Then, he's standing again, dragging his hands up my stomach, over my breasts in such a soft way that it makes my breath shudder out of me. He takes my hand again, leading me past doors I should be getting a peek behind on this tour, but I find I don't care about any room except the one they're going to fuck me in.
Ezekiel opens a door to a dark room and when we go in, soft lighting turns on. I barely have time to see the large bed in the middle of the room before I hear the door closing behind me and hands are whipping me around. Ezekiel's mouth slams down on mine, hungry, wild, demanding. I don't hesitate to open for him, our tongues circling each other's as he walks me backwards. When my knees hit the back of the bed, I sit, and our mouths break apart. My eyes drift down, to where his cock strains against his pants in front of me.
"Get my cock out," he gruffly tells me.
