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“So was the whole ‘getting up’ speech just a ruse to get me out of bed?”
At the sound of Colt’s voice, she broke away from Drake and glanced over her shoulder. He didn’t look annoyed. In fact, he was smiling.
Part of her was beginning to think a smile was his natural disguise.
“No. We do have to get up.” She sat up and pushed her hands through her insanely tangled hair. “Unfortunately.”
Drake rolled out the other side of the bed and fumbled around for his clothes on the floor while Colt did the same. She started grabbing the sheet to wrap around herself on her walk to the closet when Colt’s voice stopped her dead.
“No way. We saw every glorious inch of you last night. No way you’re denying us the gift of watching those tits bounce and that ass sway.”
“You’re incorrigible, Mr. Bennett.” She shook her head at him, secretly pleased. Not that she’d ever let him know that. Their dynamic since early on had been to torment each other, mostly in fun. Occasionally a few sharper retorts had been thrown about, but that was then. And this was now.
He paused in the process of buttoning his dress slacks. The whole covering-up-his-body thing earned a definite thumbs down from her. “What’d I tell you about that?”
“That you were going to put me on my knees and make me say it?” Deliberately, she rose and let the sheet fall away. Seeing both men’s jaws unhinge just a bit as they fumbled with their clothes pretty much made her year. Gathering her courage, she sashayed past Colt on her way to her closet. “Too late, you lost your cha—”
“I didn’t lose shit.” He grabbed her arm and spun her against his chest so fast she couldn’t have blocked the move if she tried. Not that she would hav
e. When his mouth crashed down on hers, the heat that spurted to life inside her felt absolutely vital. One stroke of his tongue against hers and she went limp in his embrace, his to guide as he wished. “I could have you there again in an instant,” he murmured, pulling back with a flick of his fingers over her bare breast.
Paige hated that he was right. Loved it too. She’d always been waiting to meet someone who could command her desire so skillfully. Now she’d met two.
And she had to give them up.
“Cocky sonofabitch.” The words came out shaky, and she pressed her hand to her rioting heart as she turned away.
“Not cocky. Truthful.”
“Nah, he’s cocky,” Drake said with a grin, disappearing into the bathroom.
She went to her closet and flipped through her dresses, trying to figure out what to wear. Normally she was a grab-and-go kind of gal, never one to worry too much about her appearance. Today it seemed right she take a little extra care.
Especially since she had a sexy cowboy looming over her shoulder, clucking in his throat as she selected and bypassed outfits.
“What about this one?” He tugged out a pale-buttercream sundress with tiny white flowers and a flirty uneven hem. She hadn’t worn it since her last failed attempt at dieting to shed those pesky twenty pounds.
Err, thirty. Maybe thirty-five during that time of the month.
“I don’t wear that anymore.” She tucked it back into the closet and went to the safer side, the one with muted neutrals that disguised her hips.
“Why the hell not? You’d look amazing in it.” He tugged it out again. “Put it on so I can see. Please,” he added when she started grumbling under her breath about making up her own damn mind.
She sighed. Please was always the magic word.
Quickly, she tugged it over her head and turned to look at him. She wasn’t going to check herself out in the mirror just yet. “See? Told you.”
His eyes fired. “Jesus, you’re a fucking wet dream.” He trailed his fingertip over the top of her cleavage and her nipples beaded right up, already responding. “Wear it just like this. No bra. No panties.” He spoke against her ear. “So when I lean in close, I can smell your pussy.”
She went hot from her hairline to her toes. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to smell my pussy from that far away.”
He chuckled. “When it smells as good as yours, hell yes, you are.” He nipped her lobe. “But just me and Drake. Anyone else tries to sniff, kick ’em in the nuts with your cowboy boots.”
She had to laugh. “I’m not Dress-Me-Up Barbie, you know. Go put on your own clothes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grinning, he saluted and went to retrieve his shirt.
Drake came back out of the bathroom as she was pulling on her cowboy boots. She wasn’t doing it because Colt suggested it, of course. They just went with this outfit is all.
