19. Darcy
CHAPTER NINETEEN
darcy
I’ve been awake for the past hour and a half, if you can call the tossing and turning I’ve done since we got home a version of sleep.
I don’t feel anxious exactly. More like alert.
A kind of wakefulness that has nothing to do with being rested and everything to do with the fact that I’m lying in my own bed while something inevitable waits one floor below.
I stare at the ceiling recounting the last twenty-four hours.
Casual fun. Doesn’t have to mean anything.
It’s not like they’re going to try and trap me into a relationship for god’s sake, I mean really.
What’s the worst that can happen?
I press my palms over my face.
This is fine.
I’m a grown-ass woman who moved all the way to a new city specifically to stop making myself smaller and start saying yes to the things I actually want.
And if that occasionally means being ping-ponged naked between a hot firefighter sandwich…
Below, I hear the low murmur of voices and my stomach somersaults before I can pretend otherwise. I’m acutely aware that it has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the fact that I already know the difference between Tyler’s morning voice and Mack’s.
I throw the blankets off of myself and sit up, no longer able to ignore the ache that’s been pooling between my legs since yesterday. With a low groan, I grab my phone and make my way to the mirror in the ensuite.
I brush my teeth one-handed while unlocking my screen with the other.
Darcy
You up?
Bex
For you? Always.
Bex
But it’s suspiciously early for you. What’s happening?
Darcy
Nothing yet. That’s the problem.
Bex
That’s cryptic, tell me more.
Darcy
I’m going downstairs.
Bex
RIGHT NOW?!
Bex
A morning booty call?!
Bex
OMG I’m here for this.
I snort toothpaste into the sink.
Darcy
They’ve been up since six. I can hear them…
Bex
They’re probably losing their minds. Go to them!
Darcy
How do I play this?
Darcy
Do I get ready first? I don’t want to look like I’m trying but I also just rolled out of bed.
Three dots appear then disappear. Then:
Bex
I’m going to mentally hold your hand when I say this, because I know Brett was a weird control freak and you haven’t been laid by him or anyone else in nearly half a year, but most guys genuinely don’t give a shit about your hair being a mess or your legs being shaved.
It’s not like you’d show up and they’d be like, “Actually…never mind.”
Bex
They’ve been up for over an hour. Their firehoses are locked and metaphorically loaded. Go put them (and yourself) out of your misery already!
I stare at the screen for a long second.
Darcy
That is the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.
Bex
You’re welcome. Now get laid!
Bex
Your vagina will thank me later
I set my phone on the counter and catch my reflection one more time—my oversized tee, sleepshorts, and my hair loose around my shoulders.
Good enough.
More than good enough, if Bex’s unhinged confidence is to be believed.
I knock softly, as if I don’t know they’re already awake. As if they can’t hear me coming down the stairs in a house where everybody hears everything.
The door swings open and—
Holy fuck.
Mack appears in the doorway first.
Gray sweats hanging off his sculpted waist like he walked out of a goddamn Calvin Klein ad, shirtless, coffee mug still in hand. The ink I already knew swirls over his shoulder and down, shifting with muscle that looks like he was born with the genes of a Roman soldier.
And then Tyler comes into view.
Flannel pajama pants, hair still mussed from sleep.
And, because apparently the universe enjoys a theme, the Apollo’s belt I’d noticed exactly once and spent weeks trying not to think about peeks above his waistband like it’s not doing things to me.
His forearms flex where they’re crossed over his chest, and he’s watching me from across the kitchen with that same easy warmth that’s somehow just as dangerous as anything smoldering Mack can do.
It’s not like I haven’t imagined them before. Of course I have.
Late nights, lights off, my favorite purple vibrator doing its best while my brain filled in blanks it had absolutely no business filling. I was right about some of it. But the full picture is something my imagination never had the audacity to accurately complete.
Mack catches me staring, meeting my gaze without the slightest hint of surprise, like he’d been waiting for me to look.
“Morning.”
He steps back to let me inside. By the time I cross the threshold, Tyler’s already abandoned the stool, the space between the three of us shrinking without anybody seeming to make a conscious decision to move.
I look at Mack.
“Tomorrow,” I say, my body already humming.
His eyes flick to my mouth.
Behind me, Tyler settles close enough that I’m suddenly aware of both of them at once—the gravitational pull of the three of us being drawn toward the same inevitable point as electricity crackles between us.
I close my eyes and throw myself off the metaphorical cliff, rising onto my toes and pressing my lips to Mack’s.
For one suspended heartbeat, he doesn’t move, like he’s giving me every chance to change my mind.
Then all of his controlled steadiness finally snaps at once.
His hand slides into my hair, tugging me closer as his mouth claims mine, parting my lips and exploring my mouth with his tongue.
Behind me, Tyler’s hand settles lightly at my waist, steadying me as much as anchoring himself, and I’m making out with one of them while leaning into the other, swallowed up by their presence before I’ve had time to think about it.
I exhale into the kiss, my hands skimming over Mack’s bare chest while Tyler’s is pressed up against mine and his lips finding the crook of my neck, the energy of all three of us turning hungrier.
“So needy already, Darcy?” Mack murmurs against my mouth, his voice rough with amusement. “This is gonna be fun.”
Tyler’s breath is warm against my skin as he lets out a low chuckle. Before I can answer, his tongue traces up toward my jaw in a way that makes my fingers curl against Mack’s chest without breaking the kiss I’m already lost in.
This, I think, distantly. This is what I moved here for.
“Tell us to stop,” Mack growls against my mouth, the words landing between kisses like he needs to hear them one last time before the three of us cross the point of no return.
“Please don’t stop,” I practically whine.
“Hear that, Mack?” Tyler murmurs against my skin. “Our little Trouble’s already enjoying herself.”
Mack answers by kissing me again, slower for a heartbeat before all restraint disappears. His hands slide to my hips just as Tyler eases me forward from behind, the two of them moving together until I’m caught neatly between them, my body following their lead before I even realize we’re moving.
A few backward steps and my hips meet the edge of the kitchen island.
Mack’s arm circles my waist, holding me against him as he continues kissing me like he’s proving a point, while Tyler’s fingertips skim lightly over my stomach until they find the hem of my T-shirt.
Is this really happening? Or am I back upstairs about to wake up with a wet hand and a bruised ego?
I lift my arms in response and the shirt goes.
Tyler lets out a sound that does significant damage to my composure.
“Christ,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his hands tracing my sides.
Somehow, in this moment, even though this began hours ago in the dark foyer, I suddenly feel shy.
Almost embarrassed.
What felt easy in the dark doesn’t feel quite as easy as what’s happening in the dim light of morning. Last night, it was all stolen kisses and shadows. Morning leaves nowhere to hide, and I’m now very aware that they aren’t just touching me, they’re actually looking at me.
Now I’m standing in their kitchen without my shirt, propped against the counter while my two extremely hot landlords ogle me like they have nowhere else they’d rather be, and suddenly my hands don’t know what to do.
Heat blooms across my chest before I can stop it, my body giving me away all over again.
Mack’s thumb traces my jaw, reading it immediately.
“Hey,” he says. “Still here?”
I nod quickly
I still feel the flush on my skin, but the panic behind it eases up. I reach for Tyler’s waist with one hand and find Mack’s forearm with the other, drawing them back toward me because I don’t know how else to answer and that seems like enough.
Tyler palms my breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers just as Mack’s lips find mine again.
“I’ve been dreaming about playing with these tits,” Tyler purrs. “I can’t wait to make you come.”
His lips ghost over the shell of my ear.
“You gonna let us fill you up, baby?”
GOD YES.
His dirty words hit like a match to gasoline.
No one’s ever talked to me this way in my entire life. Not in the bedroom. Not anywhere.
I can’t answer because suddenly Mack’s kiss turns animalistic, all tongue and teeth, biting at my lower lip before soothing it again. Every kiss feels a little more desperate than the last.
At the same time, Tyler’s mouth closes around one of my nipples into his mouth and the contrast nearly unravels me. Mack’s rough knuckles slip beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts, searching for my panties before stilling for half a beat.
He pulls back just enough to look at me.
“Darcy,” he grunts against my lips. “Did you come down here commando?”
The disbelief in his voice melts into something dangerously pleased.
“Darcy,” Mack pants against my mouth. “Did you come down here commando?”
“Bad girl.” His thumb strokes lazily against my hip. “You really are desperate to get fucked by us, aren’t you, baby?”
I drag my tongue across my lips because I’m afraid of what might come out if I actually try to speak.
A slow smiles pulls as his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He dips a finger into my wetness.
“God,” he inhales a sharp breath. “You’re fucking soaked for us.”
His forehead rests briefly against mine.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you’d feel like since that day in your apartment.”