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“I remember,” Jason says.
“I wanted you to kiss me. So badly.”
“What, like this?”
Jason pulls me against him suddenly, and I don’t even care that his hand is wet at the small of my back because his lips are on mine now. I feel the graze of stubble against my cheek, and I melt under the heat of his kiss.
“Yeah…” I murmur. I can feel my heart beating between my legs already.
Jason’s hand slides down my back and cups my ass, giving it a squeeze. I wind my leg around his invitingly.
It’s not always easy for the three of us to find stolen moments. Now that I have my two men all to myself, I’m feeling ravenous. And, by the change in Jason’s breath and his hard length against my hip, I can tell he is, too.
“This,” Donovan says, “is why the dishes never get done.”
He stands behind Jason and draws his hand up the back of Jason’s neck, into his thick head of hair. It’s a weak spot for Jason, and a small groan leaves him. “Fuck the dishes,” Jason mutters.
He’s too tall, and when Donovan tugs lightly on his hair, his lips are officially out of my reach, but I lift to nuzzle underneath his chin. I graze my lips down his throat and slide my tongue over the bump of his Adam’s apple, which bobs in response.
Is there anything more fun than getting Jason wound up? I don’t think so. The hitch in his breath makes me drench my panties, and I feel the soft fabric cling to me as I draw my fingers underneath his shirt, tracing the V of his abdomen, the rippling muscles there.
“Should we uh…” Jason swallows, barely able to form words. “Bedroom?”
“Yes, please,” I agree.
The three of us abandon the sink and move into the main cabin instead. I start to pull off my shirt, but then I feel Donovan behind me. He draws his fingers down my arms, catches my wrists, and locks them behind me.
Jason sits down on the edge of the bed in front of me. He smirks. “C’mon, Trouble. Don’t you know a girl shouldn’t have to take off her own clothes?”
I give a little struggle—not looking to escape, just to test the strength of my bonds. Donovan grips my wrists tighter, and I feel his lips and teeth graze my throat. “I wouldn’t,” he purrs darkly, and the sound goes straight between my thighs.
“Or what?” I breathe.
“Or we’re going to keep teasing you until you break,” Jason tells me.
And, oh—Jason reads the room well. Because my heart pounds in my chest as he slowly unbuttons my blouse. The two sides of my shirt fall open. My bra unclasps at the front, so he undoes that, too, so that my breasts are on full display in front of him.
Those blue eyes drink me in. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, and my nipples tighten into small, hard peaks under his gaze.
He crooks his finger and draws a knuckle down my stomach, then loops his fingers at my pants. He undoes my shorts, sliding those off my legs as well. He examines me, his hands running up my thighs, coaxing them apart, and a bizarre thought pops into my head: I wonder how his patients keep from soaking themselves anytime he puts his hands on them. I know I wouldn’t be able to. Something about the thought of Jason clinically examining me while I throb and try not to moan makes my cheeks flush hot.
His thumbs stroke the very edges of my panties between my thighs, teasing. “You’re soaking wet,” he observes.
“Is that your professional diagnosis?” I ask.
“It’s a symptom,” he plays along. “My diagnosis is that you’re a horny girl in need of two men to claim you.”
He kneads his knuckle against my slit, and even with the fabric between us, I feel the burn of pleasure. My knees start to buckle, my hips rocking forward to meet his touch, but Donovan’s strong grip on my arms keeps me upright.
“Second opinion?” Jason asks.
“I’d say you’re on the money,” Donovan confirms as he ghosts his lips up my throat and nibbles my earlobe.
I fight back a whimper and let my body relax against Donovan. I’m helpless to move my arms, but when I reach back with my palms, I can feel the denim of his pants and the swell of his need underneath. I cup his groin, massaging, and he grows harder under my touch. He lets out a low growl in my ear, and the sound sends a shudder through me.
I’m at their mercy, and Jason teases me. He pulls my nipple between his fingers until I gasp and then does the same to the other. When he finally puts his mouth on my breast, my nipples are sore and sensitive, and the gentle wet heat of his tongue makes me burn. I moan, squirming under his caresses, and my thighs clutch together, aching for any friction.
“Please,” I beg, “I want it so bad.” I give Donovan a squeeze, hoping he’ll give me what I need.
