Chapter 1 #3
Every sensible part of me knows it. My mother’s voice is so clear in my mind it’s like she’s sitting across from me, watching.
“What do you think you’re doing, Janey? Sitting on a swing with two men like that.
Wearing indecent clothing. Get inside before you make a mistake you’ll regret. Didn’t I raise you better?”
But with the air charged with intention and two men close enough to feel their heat and power, it seems tonight, the sensible parts of me have left the building. Or, I’m set on banishing them.
I remain where I am, my thighs pressed tightly, warmth swelling in parts that have been unused for too long, vibrating with sexual tension and rebellion.
Mason’s hand gently squeezes my thigh, a hint of what could be. My breath catches as I turn my head toward him. His gaze is already on me, intent in a way that sends a shudder through me.
“Janey?”
It sounds like a question.
Is this okay? Is this what you want? Is this why you came out and sat between my brother and me, wearing skimpy pajamas?
Yes. Yes. And hell yes!
His hand slides up, fingers brushing higher, parting my tightly clasped flesh as he leans in.
I meet him halfway, my hand curling into his shirt as his mouth finds mine, and god, the kiss is warm and unhurried, making my thoughts blur at the edges.
His confidence anchors me even as everything inside me shifts.
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this.
Mason’s hand moves again, gripping my hip, guiding me closer.
My breath catches as he draws away to turn my face to the side, bringing Brookes into view. Brookes watches me for a brief moment, his gaze dropping to my mouth before lifting again.
A pause stretches between us.
I’m offered a choice.
I feel it clearly.
Do you want my brother?
Maybe this is a family thing. Their two cousins seem more than happy in a relationship with one woman. Maybe the Fletcher brothers move as a unit, too. I shiver as the wrongness and the rightness of being offered another man coalesce between my thighs.
I lean toward Brookes, whose dark eyes spark with excitement.
His kiss is different, curling through me as he moves, deeper and slower, patient, as though he’s waiting to see if I’ll withdraw once my senses hit.
I don’t.
I can’t. I’m drugged on the looming largeness of them both as they crowd me between them. It’s so easy to relax into accepting what they clearly want from me. Like a pawn in a game of chess, my body is pushed forward into the unknown, ready for however they want to play the game.
The night seems to close in, the space around us narrowing until there is only this. The three of us, and the quiet, charged tension threading between every breath.
Two men.
Before Joelle found Wade and Caleb and settled into a life with them, the idea of a woman with two men wasn’t a setup that ever crossed my mind. It didn’t belong to my world. I didn't even have language for it, let alone curiosity about it.
Now, sitting here between Mason and Brookes, I understand the appeal.
It isn’t only about having two sets of hands or two different kinds of attention, though I’m aware of both in a way that feels impossible to ignore.
It’s the contrast. The way Mason’s presence presses in, while Brookes lingers just at the edge of that, watchful and measured, like he’s taking his time deciding exactly how close to get.
Or giving me time to work out how much I’ll accept.
It’s the balance of it. One draws me out without hesitation, the other makes me aware of every reaction. I don’t feel pulled in two directions. I feel… held in the middle.
For the first time, I can see how a woman might step into this kind of situation and never want to leave. But that isn’t what I want. My parents would never accept the kind of life that Joelle has for me.
But a fling? No one would ever have to find out.
Mason stands, the movement smooth and certain.
His hands settle at my waist, lifting me easily.
My arms come up around his shoulders without thought, my pulse quickening as the world shifts again.
He’s so strong, I feel like I weigh a feather.
So powerful, he could do anything, and I’d be unable to resist. The thought sends a thrill through me.
“You sure you can carry me with all that cake and frosting weighing me down?” I say, trying to lighten the moment.
He laughs, kissing my lips hard.
“Come on,” he murmurs.
I've a strong sense of where this is going, but I don’t ask. Neither does Brookes as he stands and follows. The barn looms in the distance, doors open, shadows spilling out into the night.
Brookes’s footsteps are heavy, thudding in time with my heart.
I’m fizzy with anticipation and aching with desire.
I’m overwhelmed with this chance to be a different Janey.
One who’s not weighed down by my mother’s high expectations for perfection at all costs.
One who can lust after two men and be brave enough to discover if their bodies and their intentions are as hot as she imagines.
For once, I don’t hesitate.
I let them lead me into a situation I know better than to be a part of, ready to let all my inhibitions fly away with the wind.
Ready to devour them both like frosting.