Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
I study them, every glorious, masculine inch of them. Forearms and Adam’s apples and stubble and hands. God, I love their hands. My desire brings me up onto my tiptoes. If I had to pick, I couldn’t. And now I don’t have to.
I can’t keep my eyes from the bulges in both their pants that just make me want to sink down on my knees and…
Focus, Isabel. Focus.
I’m so nervous, so excited, that I can barely figure out which bikini top goes with which bottom. I can’t believe I am doing this. I can’t believe I want to do this. But I do, oh goodness I do, with all my heart.
And all my body.
I sort through the goodies they bought me—the lace and the silky robes and the bikinis and retro pinup-style one-pieces that accentuate my curves. I pick out my favorite one first. It’s barely more than three triangles of black fabric, and curly, stretchy ties. I pull it on, adjusting my boobs and my tummy, then slipping my fingers on either side of my lips to make sure everything is where it is supposed to be. I feel I am soaked already, absolutely drenched, so juicy that I can feel my wetness squelching with every step.
I swipe on some pearlescent pink lipstick, pop my lips at the bathroom mirror, and spin toward the door that leads outside. With my fingers on the handle, I take a deep breath, and then walk out onto the paved path.
I’m so dizzy with desire that I feel out of balance, so gloriously upside down that my heartbeat is thumping in my ears, and my throat, and most especially between my legs.
I’ve hardly stepped onto the pool deck before they’re both growling at me, almost in unison, like two lions going in for the kill.
Somehow, I manage to keep my cool as I tease and turn, catwalk style. I make a little loop near the hot tub, showing off what I think are my best assets. They shoot a greedy glance at one another and stand up together. I pause there, on tiptoes, savoring this anticipation. Of them coming for me.
Together.
Two against one.
Me against them.
Me for them.
They take me in hand. Flint behind me, Hale in front of me. Greedy hands, masculine hands, wandering hands, all over my body. I feel woozy with it. Spinning with it.
“Do you like it?” I manage to whisper, my voice thick with desire.
“Fuck yeah,” growls Flint from behind my left ear.
Hale is facing me, running his dreamy eyes down my chest. Assessing. Deciding. “Almost perfect,” he says finally.
“Almost?” I ask, looking up at his dark eyes, glinting in the sunset.
He nods. “Only thing that would make it better is if you weren’t wearing it at all.”
I hear Flint laugh behind me, a greedy outbreath. “Exactly.”
Flint’s strong fingers explore my hips, then tug on the bikini ties. At the same time, Hale begins unfastening the halter behind my neck and the tie across my back. Fabric shifts against bows and knots. And then all at once, the suit comes off me, falling softly onto the warm poolside concrete. And there I am, naked between them. My curves against their muscles; my softness against their strength.
Flint scoops me up into his arms and carries me to the elegant pool cabana past the deep end of the pool; he lays me down naked between them, the two of them towering above me, watching me, both of them looking so hungry that they might devour me whole.
Looking up at them now, at their muscles and power, I’m so intimidated. I feel so small and inexperienced and suddenly so unsure.
This is crazy. I’m not sure I could handle even one of them, let alone both.
“Guys, wait. Let’s just…” I squirm naked on the lounge chair, and the thick hot wetness I leave behind on the canvas feels cold against the skin of my butt and thigh. “Let’s talk about how this is going to…”
They shake their heads in unison, narrowing their eyes, working their jaws. “The time for talking is over, Baby,” Hale answers.
I look to Flint now—for reassurance, for comfort. Of the two of them, he’s ever-so-slightly softer. But still terrifying in his rippling sexy power.
But I find no softness now.
“Don’t look at me, little girl. You heard him. And he’s right.”
Oh goodness. Those words. Little girl. It unlocks something completely unexpected in me. I swallow hard. I grip the arms of the chaise. My whole body is vibrating now. With a little bit of fear. And whole lot of wanting.
Their eyes are so intense. Their gazes so determined. So furious. It makes my cheeks burn first, and then the rest of my body, too.
But all my life, I’ve been told that sex is between one man and one woman. This isn’t right.