28. Lilah
28
LILAH
Jude’s kiss was different than Nolan’s but no less thrilling. He lingered over my mouth for what felt like forever, his lips absurdly pillowy and soft in the moment before I felt the push of his tongue.
I didn’t even try to protest when he pulled me onto his lap. His arms came around my waist and I clung to his neck as his tongue made languid sweeps through my mouth.
The fire in my body built slowly this time, an ember that started between my thighs and grew as Jude’s hands slipped under my sweatshirt, his thumb stroking the tender skin of my stomach until goosebumps rose on my arms and my nipples got hard.
His hard dick under my ass stoked my desire and I moaned as he closed his hand around one of my tits, bare under my sweatshirt. He stroked my nipple expertly, the ministrations of his fingers working with the slide of his tongue to ignite every nerve ending in my body until I was humming for him.
I was so lost in the kiss I didn’t have time to think about the fact that twelve hours earlier, Nolan had his fingers in my pussy, his thumb on my clit, his tongue in my mouth.
Which was probably why I didn’t notice him enter the room.
“Goddamn,” he said.
I jumped, then tried to rise off Jude’s lap before his arms tightened around my waist, holding me in place. “Not so fast, boss.”
“I’m… Oh my god,” I stammered before hiding my face in my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Well, that’s kind of insulting,” Jude said.
I shook my head, my face still covered. “That’s not what I mean. Not sorry about the kiss, just…”
“I think what Lilah’s trying to say is I got her off at the beach and she’s embarrassed she was about to let you do the same,” Nolan said.
I lifted my head and watched as he walked to the fridge. He grabbed a water bottle, then closed the fridge and leaned against the counter, a mischievous light in his eyes.
“You jealous motherfucker,” he said to Jude.
Jude shrugged. “I mean, yeah. Obviously. But that’s not all.”
I looked from Nolan to Jude and back again. “Am I missing something? I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Jude didn’t like me beating him to the punch,” Nolan said.
I pulled away from Jude and returned to my original chair, then crossed my arms over my chest because I had a feeling they were fucking with me. “Is this some kind of game ?”
Nolan looked stung. “A game?” He shook his head. “No game, sweetheart.”
I chewed my lower lip. “Then why aren’t you mad?”
“Mad?” He looked confused.
“Or… upset or something.”
“Because you kissed Jude?”
“Well, yeah. You and I… well… we…” Oh my fucking god. Why couldn’t I get the words out? Why was my face on fire? Why did I want the kitchen floor to open up and swallow me whole?
Jude threw me a lifeline. “You made out at the beach. I figured.”
“You figured,” I repeated.
“Yeah, and I was definitely jealous, but it was your call. It’s always your call, boss.”
I rubbed my temples. “What’s my call exactly?”
“Which of us you fuck around with,” Jude said matter-of-factly. “Nolan, me… Nolan and me, Nolan and Rafe, Me and Rafe, all three of us, any combo of the above.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “I do not want to fuck around with Rafe.”
Jude grinned magnanimously. “Like I said, your call.”
“Wait… you said… Nolan and you.”
Jude gave me a patient nod. “Right.”
I looked at Nolan, who looked like this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having in the kitchen at two in the morning. “That’s why you’re not mad? Because you want to… share me?”
My voice had gone up an octave at the end of my sentence and I was aware that I was starting to sound vaguely unhinged.
Nolan’s blue-green eyes turned molten. “‘Want’ isn’t the word I’d use, sweetheart.”
“Let’s just say we do things together,” Jude said. “Lots of things.”
“Lots of things…” Why was I repeating everything they said? And why did I want to rip out the hair of any girl who’d ever been with them both?
I rubbed my forehead with a sigh. It was too late for this conversation. Or too early. Or whatever. Basically, I was on overload, my moment at the beach with Nolan blending into the kiss with Jude, the information about Rafe and their time in the military mingling together in an epic shit storm of new information I didn’t have the bandwidth to process.
“I’m going to assume this is a fucked-up dream,” I said, heading for the living room.
The fire in the fireplace, stoked by Jude before he’d started the grilled cheese, was burning soft and low, casting the dark room in a cozy glow.
“Is he okay?” I asked, turning back when I reached the hall.
“Rafe?” Nolan asked.
I nodded, hating that I cared.
“He’s good.”
I hoped they wouldn’t hold the question — or the multiple make-out sessions — against me when the sun came up, but one thing was clear: I had to get away from the three men who had once loomed large only in my imagination.
And fast.