My heart climbs into my throat. He taps my right ankle. I lift it, and he removes the jeans from one leg, then the other one.

  I’m wearing only Chase’s jersey and a pair of sky-blue boy shorts with daisy flowers on them—undies that are one hundred percent useless now.

  They’re soaked.

  Feet pad across the wood floor as Ryker rises, roaming a big hand over the fabric covering one cheek. Then the other.

  “What do you think of her ass? Fucking perfect for smacking, right?” Chase asks, like he’s appraising me. Gone is the sweet, charming guy with the congenial smile for the press.

  After dark, he’s all alpha, in command of me and, also, his friend. That surprises me. I’d have expected the broody, grumpy guy to want to call the shots. But Ryker seems content to let Chase play conductor. Maybe that’s their thing? Is this how they run their three-ways?

  Nope. Stop. Doesn’t matter if they’re threesome pros. In fact, it’s probably better if they are.

  I home in on the moment, on my body.

  Ryker squeezes my flesh, then says to his friend, “Pretty sure you’ll love smacking this ass. But best I take these off first.”

  The way they talk about me makes me feel like their naughty plaything. And their tone—almost like I’m not here—makes heat flare in my belly.

  “Good idea,” Chase says, his voice louder now. He’s a foot away, and when he reaches me, he sweeps my hair off the back of my neck and kisses me there—an open-mouthed caress while Ryker peels off my panties. I step out of them, and I’m half-naked but all exposed.

  Ryker grabs one cheek, manhandling me roughly, and Chase the other, gripping firmly. Their bodies flank me on either side. “Bet you’re aching between your thighs,” Chase says, almost like a taunt, like he savors holding my pleasure in the palm of his hand. He kisses my earlobe, flicking his tongue along it. “Are you, baby? All hot and greedy?”

  My knees buckle. And I grow wetter. “I am.”

  “Bet that sweet pussy is so nice and slick,” he adds and squeezes my ass harder, then bites my shoulder.

  “Oh god,” I say, yelping from the nip, but also moaning from it.

  Chase raises a big hand. “You said you liked my hands. What do you want me to do with them?”

  “Spank me,” I say, surprising myself at the strength of my desire.

  With a devilish grin, he says, “I thought so.”

  He smacks my ass and I cry out a “god yes” as pain and pleasure surge through me.

  “Turns you the fuck on, doesn’t it?” Ryker asks.

  My pussy grows wetter in answer, then a bead of arousal slides down my inner thigh. I feel daring with these two, free to voice my wants. “Check,” I rasp out, my throat drier than the desert, my pussy hotter than the equator.

  I’m shaking with desire. Chase kisses a long trail down the side of my neck. “Aww, you’re so hot for us you’re getting all demanding. Fucking sexy the way she needs us, isn’t it, Ryker?”

  “So hot, how horny she is,” his friend seconds.

  I wriggle my ass for them, shameless. “I want you both. I need you both,” I say, my voice sounding like it’s coming from some other version of me. The me who propositions two guys for a three-way, who goes to their home, who asks for filthy, beautiful things.

  Chase nuzzles his smooth face against my neck, his hands roaming down my side. “Patience, baby. Just need something first,” he rasps out, then adopts his Dom voice again. “Ryker, check her cunt for me. Tell me how wet she is.”

  Ryker slides his fingers over my ass cheek, and between my thighs, stroking me at last.

  It’s such sweet relief, and yet I need so much more. “Please,” I pant, helpless to the lust surging through me.

  “Like she’s been turned on the whole damn night,” Ryker says, confirming, and that sounds about accurate.

  His thick fingers climb higher, heading straight to my clit, which is pulsing for him. For them. At last, Ryker strokes and I nearly howl from the pleasure. How is this already better than anything else that has ever happened to me? Is it because it’s double? But it feels like ten times what I’ve felt when I’m alone with my high-speed toys.

  “She’s ready for you,” Ryker says, talking about me like I’m a car and they’re going to trade turns at the wheel.

  Well, yeah.

  Ryker grabs my wrists and spins me around, so I’m facing him.

  No idea what’s happening. No clue at all.

  Until…

  Ryker slams his mouth to mine while Chase yanks my ass against his covered hard-on, and maneuvers a hand over my hip, down, and right between my legs.

  “Yes. You’re so slick,” he praises in my ear, as Ryker kisses me and Chase strokes my pussy. “Wrap your arms around him.”

  I comply, threading my fingers through Ryker’s thick, soft strands.

  While Ryker kisses me hard, Chase drops sensual kisses to my neck, all while he strokes my wetness, sliding, rubbing, flicking my center.

  I’m bursting with pleasure everywhere, my pulse skyrocketing, my skin tingling, everything aching.

  This is a parade. An anthem. An epic finale to a symphony. Chase is rubbing my needy clit while Ryker devours my mouth. It’s all too much, the deluge of wild sensations.

  I moan into Ryker’s mouth as I rock into Chase’s hand. “That’s right. Give it to us. Come on my hand,” Chase urges in a dark, dirty voice that has me rocking faster into his fingers, doing his bidding.

  I’m close, so damn close. There’s no part of me that doesn’t want to come right now.

  Ryker’s kisses overpower me with their intensity while Chase’s fingers fly, and pleasure coils low in my belly, then pulses.

  A warning of bliss.

  “Yes, I can feel how much you want it,” Chase rasps out, pushing me on.

  One more stroke, one more caress on my neck, one more kiss of my lips, and I let go of Ryker’s mouth, gasping, “I’m coming.”

  My knees buckle and Chase catches me, then hauls me up as I shake from the aftereffects. While I’m still moaning, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them, one by one. “Mmm. Need more of your sweetness really fucking soon,” he says, like he’s high on the taste of me. When he’s done, he tenderly strokes my hair away from my face. “You did so well, sweetness,” he says, and I like that nickname too.

  “That’s better than Miss Inquisitive,” I say.

  “Yeah, it’s perfect for you, sweetness,” Ryker adds, petting my hair too.

  “I bet someday you could take both of us,” Chase says, and Ryker growls his yes.

  “Think you’d like that too?” Ryker rasps out, asking me.

  This is only one night. That’s not on the menu this evening. Still, I say, “I want that. Someday.”

  “I know you do.” Chase presses a gentle kiss to my bruised lips, then lets go and lifts me up.

  Oh! He tosses me on his shoulder. Well, that’s fun, being handled like I weigh nothing.

  “Wait. My glasses,” I say, mildly worried.

  “Got ’em,” Ryker barks out, and cuts across the living room while Chase stalks down the hall, fireman carrying me. I’m shivering the whole way, barely aware of my surroundings—just Chase’s soothing voice. “How did that feel? You deserved to come so badly,” he says and his tone is soft, an aftercare type of voice I’ve heard about. Maybe dreamed about.

  “Better than Maverick,” I say, still woozy.

  “Who’s Maverick?” he asks as he turns into his bedroom, flicks on a light, and then gently lays me on a huge bed with a dark blue cover.

  “My favorite vibrator,” I say.

  “You named your vibrator.” He sounds delighted.

  “Well, when you have a half dozen you need to tell them apart…” I say, trailing off seductively, because I don’t want to talk anymore.

  Chase is undoing a button on his shirt as Ryker enters the room. I sit up on my knees, move to the edge of the bed. “Let me,” I say, but it’s plaintive. I’m pleading to undress him.

  He comes closer, clasps my hands, and brings them to the front of his shirt. “Take it off,” he instructs as Ryker sets my glasses down on the nightstand.

  I get to work on stripping Chase, sliding off his dress shirt, and letting it fall to the floor. I bite the corner of my lips when I set eyes on his chest, carved and muscular everywhere. They aren’t model muscles, shaped by protein shakes and long lifting sessions. They’re cut from the job, and he’s covered in bruises and small cuts. I run a finger over the freshest, bluest bruise, touching it reverently. “Looks new. Does this still hurt?”

  He shakes his head. “Didn’t hurt when I got it. Feels good right now.”

  I spread my hands over his pecs, exploring his hard body as Ryker watches the whole time, stares darkly with the most intense look in those eyes. Maybe Ryker is a voyeur? Would he want to watch Chase fuck me? Would he jerk off while Chase bent me over the bed and pounded into me?

  My breath hitches. My heart races. I’m flooded with brand-new ideas.

  “What filthy thought just crossed your mind?” Chase asks, but I’m not looking at him. I’m looking at the man whose midnight gaze has me caught in its crosshairs.

  Without thinking twice, I answer: “If Ryker would ever want to jack off while you fucked me.”

  Who am I? Who is this woman saying these things to these two men?

  Chase whistles, clearly loving my dirty mouth, and praising it by running a finger along my lips.

  “Maybe,” Ryker says, noncommittal.

  Maybe someday. Quickly, he undoes his shirt, revealing ink I only saw hints of in the photos online. A series of finely drawn compasses cover his right arm, stretching up to his shoulder and spreading into a tribal tattoo that extends across his huge pecs.

  He’s even more banged up than Chase, with bruises and cuts across his strong body. A scar, several inches in length, runs down the side of his abs.

  I run a finger over it, reverently. “Hockey fight?”

  He nods. “Blade cut me. You should see the other guy.”

  That’s hot, the kind of adrenaline that must power him on the ice. I never thought I’d find it sexy, only brutal. But tracing the scar, I’m finding his caveman side far too appealing.

  “Come closer,” I say, breathy.

  He moves, standing next to Chase, so I can admire them both.

  I spread my right hand across Ryker’s chest, exploring his ink more thoroughly, then the dark chest hair covering his pecs while my left hand visits Chase’s happy trail.

  I shudder, but it’s not simply from being ludicrously turned on.

  It’s from the power storming through me. A power I didn’t know I possessed to turn two men on at once. They’re both breathing hard, chests rising and falling, dicks straining, eyes darkening. They’re both so wildly aroused.

  “Can I?” I ask, my gaze straying to Ryker’s bulge, then Chase’s.

  With a that’s sweet grin, Chase shakes his head. “You haven’t come enough tonight for that. If you want to play with our cocks, you’re gonna need to earn it with a couple more orgasms.” His tone turns stern as his hands move to his belt and he undoes it. “Take off your shirt, scoot back on the bed, and spread those beautiful legs for him.”

  The rest of our clothes disappear, and when Ryker’s long, thick cock swings free, he grabs it, strokes it, and moves up on the bed too. “Let me see how wet you are for me,” he says in his gruff voice.

  Suddenly shy, I barely part my legs. What if I can’t relax? What if Jasper was right? What if this is why he strayed?

  Ryker growls, admonishing me. “Nope. Nice and wide. I want to see everything,” he says.

  But even as I let my knees fall apart, I look the other way, still unsure of myself.

  Ryker sighs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. More…thoughtful. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh. “Been dying to eat you out. Taste you dripping on my tongue. Feel you come on my beard,” he says, so crass, and so clever, since those filthy words do the trick.

  I relax, spreading my legs.

  “Yeah. That’s right,” he says, then he looks up, locking his eyes with his friend. “Weston, you better play with her tits while I eat her out. Blow her brains out so she doesn’t have to think,” he instructs, and way to read me.

  Way to solve me.

  “I’m there,” Chase says, climbing onto the bed in his naked glory, his dick nice and thick and pointing at me. “Move, sweetness. Gonna get behind you.”

  I sit up, letting him slide behind me so he’s against the headboard, and I’m in his arms. “Lie back on me,” he instructs.

  I obey, settling into the big, strong canvas of his chest, feeling his hard dick against my back.

  From between my thighs, Ryker says, “Good. Now put your hands on your thighs and show me your pussy.”

  With a shudder, I push my thighs apart more, feeling vulnerable and wildly daring at the same time.

  “Turn her on while I eat her,” Ryker says to Chase.

  “Chef’s special,” Chase says, as his hands roam around to my chest. He squeezes my tits while his leaking cock thumps against my spine, and Ryker’s beard brushes against my inner thigh.

  It’s a lot. A good a lot. I’m overwhelmed once again. Ryker hasn’t even kissed my pussy and I’m already moaning, writhing.

  He rubs that scruff along my legs, then stares at my center. “Need to taste you,” he says, in a carnal groan.

  “I barely got enough of her on my fingers. Tell me,” Chase rasps out, his tone desperate. “Tell me how she tastes.”

  Ryker buries his face between my thighs and French kisses my pussy.

  I scream in pleasure as the fireworks show begins.

  This won’t take long.

  This won’t take long at all.

  Not as Ryker laps me up, stopping only to give his opinion on the main item on the menu. “She tastes like all my fantasies,” he says before he returns to lapping, licking, sucking.

  This is like nothing I’ve experienced.

  This is nothing I’ve even dared imagine.

  This is better than anything I’ve read.

  Chase’s fingers pinch my nipples while Ryker keeps me spread open with his hands, his lush mouth devouring my wetness, his talented tongue devoted to my aching clit.

  I moan and thrash. Beg and arch. I rock up against Ryker, and I wriggle against Chase.

  I’m melting into the men, sweat sliding down my breasts, desire taking hold of me.

  My brain goes offline.

  All I can do is feel as Ryker eats me with such passion I’m lost to the pleasure. I’m lost to myself. Lost to the orgasm that slams madly into me, sending a hot, sharp rush of ecstasy blasting through my core. “Yes, yes, yes,” I call out, coming on his face as I’m devoured and adored all at once.

  A few minutes later I’m still in bed with them, each man on one side of me. They’re stroking me, kissing me softly.

  What is this world I stepped into when I stole those tickets? “This is the real VIP treatment,” I say with a heady smile.

  “And you fucking deserve it,” Chase adds.

  But they deserve pleasure too. When I take a tour of Chase’s body, my gaze lingering on his thick cock, hard as steel, then on Ryker’s shaft in his fist as he lazily strokes, I frown.

  “This isn’t acceptable,” I say with a pout.

  “What’s not?” Chase asks, all sleepy sexy.

  “I’m going to take care of you both,” I announce, determined.

  “Yeah?” Chase sounds doubtful.

  I don’t feel doubtful though. I feel confident. Like I’ve got a secret up my sleeve. And I sure do. I stretch out my arms, smiling wickedly. “I earned it, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did,” Ryker confirms. “How do you want us?”

  “At the same time.”

  Ryker furrows his brow.

  Chase laughs skeptically.

  I get on my knees between them. With both guys lying down, I take a cock in each fist. And I show them just how well I can use both hands. I stroke and jerk till Ryker spills into one palm, Chase coming hard in the other.

  Being ambidextrous has its advantages. Guess that was a double dicking in its own special way.

  11

  MY PANCAKE ERA

  Trina

  A rooster crows a gentle cock-a-doodle-doo. But that barnyard boy’s about to get a serving of my attitude real fast.

  I fumble around on the weirdly comfortable couch, slapping the coffee table in Aubrey’s living room for my phone as I squint, trying to block out the bright morning rays streaking through the windows.

  Where’s my little dog warmer? Nacho always sleeps under the blankets with me. But maybe he’s waiting at the door to do his business.

  In the distance, a pair of voices float by. Something about batter.

  Ohh.

  Those are man voices. Right. I’m not in Kansas anymore. I’m in Sex Wonderland, and this is a nice big bed to wake up in. I blink away the last cobwebs of sleep and confusion.

  “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

  I cringe, grabbing the phone, then silencing the rude but necessary alarm, along with the last of my disoriented thoughts. Fully awake and aware now, I sit up, shove my glasses on my face, then check the time. Eight-thirty on Saturday. I need to be at work at ten when we open the store. Plenty of time to do the walk of shame.

  My gut churns, a little embarrassed. I haven’t done one in a long time.

  “That’s not how you do it,” Chase declares from a room far away, perhaps the kitchen.

  “Yes, it is,” Ryker insists.

  “You have to whisk it more.”

  “Whisk it less.”

  They’re arguing over pancakes? They’re already back in their normal routine. I almost feel like last night didn’t happen.

  Maybe I should act like it didn’t as I slink off? That seems easiest.

  I stretch, looking around. Chase’s bedroom is the size of a small country. This bed is its own city. I haven’t slept this well in…I don’t even know. The only thing missing is Nacho, and my heart aches a little for my guy. But I’ll see him soon, and my life will snap back to normal. The dog, the bookstore, my online book club, occasional yoga in the park.