Chapter 5
Thursday. I’m dressed before they arrive.
Not the bikini. A tank top, cotton shorts, bare feet.
I thought about what to wear for longer than I’ll ever admit.
The bikini felt like too much. Like a sign held up over my head.
This is closer to what I actually wear around the house, except I chose the tank top that fits tighter across my breasts and the shorts that sit lower, and I’m not wearing a bra.
I stand in the kitchen and drink my coffee, my pulse already up.
The truck pulls in at nine. Two doors. The gate opens. West comes through first, and his eyes go to the kitchen window before they go to the pool. He finds me through the glass and holds there for a second. Then he grins, waves the skimmer at me, and walks to the far end.
Teo follows him through the gate. He looks at the window, too. Shorter, quieter. But he looks.
I stand at the counter with my coffee and watch them through the window.
West skims the surface, but he’s slower today, pausing between passes, looking at the house more than the water.
Teo tests the chemistry, adjusts the pump, and opens the filter housing, same as always, but when he stands up, he stretches and looks toward the kitchen.
I swear he holds the stretch longer than he needs to.
They finish in thirty minutes. West coils the hose. Teo writes on his clipboard. They both look at the house.
I open the patio door. “You guys want coffee?”
West grins. “I thought you’d never ask.” He drops the skimmer against the fence and comes up the patio steps.
Teo follows, wiping his hands on his shorts.
My kitchen is not big. It’s a galley with a window over the sink and a counter that seats two. With three people in it, the space compresses.
West leans against the counter across from me. Teo stands by the door, not quite in the room, not quite out of it. I pour two mugs and slide them across the counter.
“No Hendersons today?” I ask.
West shakes his head. “They’re on vacation. Whole schedule’s light.” He wraps both hands around the mug and drinks. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”
Teo picks up his mug. He’s looking at the kitchen the way he looks at pool equipment. Noticing things. The shelf I hung last month. The herbs on the windowsill. His eyes move across the room, land on me, and stay.
“So, how’s the translating?” West asks. He’s closer than he was on the patio last week. The counter is narrow, and his hip is against it. His body takes up most of the space on that side of the kitchen.
“I just finished a German medical device patent. Now it’s a French pharmaceutical contract. Twelve thousand words about blood thinners.”
“That sounds terrible,” West says.
“It pays for the pool service.”
He laughs. It fills the kitchen. Teo smiles into his mug. I like being the reason both of them are making that face. I like it more than I should.
West sets his mug down and reaches past me for the sugar bowl on the shelf above the sink.
He doesn’t need the sugar. He already drank half his coffee black.
His arm goes over my shoulder, and his chest is close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him through his shirt.
He smells like chlorine, sweat, and sunscreen.
He picks up the sugar bowl and doesn’t move back.
Three weeks ago, I watched these men through my kitchen window and went back to translating a patent.
Two weeks ago, I dreamed about them and woke up with my hand between my legs.
Last week, I came on my couch thinking about what West’s hands would feel like on me.
All of that was safe. All of that was mine, inside my head, where nobody could see it and nothing had to be real.
Now he’s standing in my kitchen, and he hasn’t moved back.
If his hand touches me, it stops being hypothetical.
His hand comes down and lands on my hip. Light. Just his fingers on the cotton of my shorts. He’s looking down at me. “Is that okay?”
I put my hand on his chest, and I can feel his heart going as fast as mine. I pull him forward by the shirt and kiss him. He tastes like coffee.
His hand tightens on my hip, and the other one comes up to the side of my neck. I grip his shirt and pull him closer, his body pressing me back against the counter.
Teo is still by the door. I can feel him there without looking. The mug in his hand, the stillness of him. West pulls back enough to look at my face, and I turn my head.
Teo is watching us. His expression is careful. Not shocked, not embarrassed. He’s waiting to see if this is his cue to leave.
“Teo.” I hold my hand out.
He sets his mug on the counter. He crosses the kitchen in two steps and takes my hand. I pull him in and kiss him. He’s different from West. His mouth is slower, more deliberate.
His hand finds my waist, and his fingers press in like he’s learning the shape of me. Behind me, West’s chest is against my back, his mouth on my shoulder.
I’m standing in my kitchen between two men, and one of my hands is in Teo’s hair and the other is gripping West’s forearm where it wraps around my waist.
“Bedroom,” I say. “Down the hall.”
I said it. I’m walking down my own hallway, and I can hear them behind me.
My legs are shaking, and there is a version of me somewhere overhead asking what I think I’m doing.
She can ask. I don’t have an answer for her.
I just know I’ve been planning this since the couch and probably since the window. I’m not stopping now.
My bedroom door is open. The bed is made. I made it this morning because I hoped. The sheets are white, and the bed is new, bought in February, and no one has been in it but me.
West pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor.
I’ve seen his chest through the window, across the yard, from the patio.
Up close, it’s broader, the sunburn darker at his shoulders, blond hair across his sternum.
Teo is beside him. He pulls his shirt off with less show, just reaches back and tugs.
Brown skin, lean, a line of dark hair from his navel down.
I look at both of them standing in my bedroom and pull my tank top off.
“Fuck,” West says. He’s staring at my breasts. Not subtle about it. Not trying to be.
Teo doesn’t say anything. His eyes move down my body and back up, and he swallows.
I unbutton my shorts and let them drop. I’m wearing underwear. Plain black cotton. I leave it on.
“Someone is falling behind,” I say.
West laughs and reaches for his belt and then gets his shorts off. He’s hard already, his thick cock straining against his boxers.
Teo undoes his shorts and steps out of them. I was right about what I saw in the dream. West is thick, heavy, the outline of him obvious through the fabric. Teo is leaner, longer.
West reaches me first. His hands are on my waist, lifting me, and I’m on the bed with my back against the pillows and his mouth on my neck, my collarbone, moving down. He kisses between my breasts and keeps going, down my belly, his hands hooking into my underwear and pulling them down my legs.
The bed dips. Teo kneels beside me. I turn my head and pull him down, kissing him while West’s mouth moves lower. Teo’s hand comes to my breast, his thumb finding my nipple, circling it with the same precision I watched through the kitchen window. His fingers know where to go.
West’s mouth is wide, wet, and everywhere at once. Teo’s thumb stays on my nipple like he’s figured out exactly what pressure makes me twitch. They’re nothing alike, and I want both of them so much my teeth ache.
West’s mouth reaches my pussy. His tongue drags flat against me, and my hips jerk up off the mattress. I gasp into Teo’s mouth. West’s hands grip my thighs and hold them apart, and he does it again, slower, finding my swollen clit, settling in and sucking gently.
Teo pulls back from the kiss and watches my face. His hand is still on my breast. He pinches my nipple gently, then harder when he sees what it does to my expression.
I reach down and find him through his boxers. Hard, the shaft hot against my palm through the cotton. I push the waistband down and wrap my fingers around him. He makes a low sound in his throat, and his hips push forward into my grip.
I stroke Teo while West eats me. My body doesn’t know what to do with all of it. Two men, four hands, two mouths.
Teo leans down and takes my other nipple in his mouth, and I arch up off the bed. West’s tongue on my clit and Teo’s mouth on my breast. Teo’s cock in my hand, and I’m close already.
“Don’t stop.” I don’t know which one of them I’m talking to. Both.
West doesn’t stop. He slides two fingers inside me, curls them, and sucks my clit.
I come. It hits me fast and hard, and I cry out, my hand tightening on Teo and my thighs clamping around West’s head.
He keeps going through it, his fingers still moving, his tongue still working, until I push his head away because I can’t take any more.
He comes up, grinning, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Good?”
“Shut up.” I’m breathing hard, and my legs are shaking. He knows it was good.
I push myself up and turn over, hands and knees. I look back at West over my shoulder, and he’s already moving behind me, his hands on my hips. I look forward at Teo. He’s pushed his boxers off. I wrap my hand around his cock and pull him closer.
West pushes into me from behind, and my breath leaves me. He fills me all the way and holds there. Then he starts to move.
I take Teo in my mouth. His cock slides across my tongue, and I taste the salt of him.
West is fucking me from behind in long, deep strokes, and every thrust pushes me forward, my lips sliding farther down Teo’s shaft.
I can’t control the rhythm. West controls it. He sets the pace, and my mouth follows.
For a few strokes, I just let it happen. West behind me, filling me, his hands heavy on my hips. Teo in front of me, his cock in my mouth, his hand in my hair. I’m between them and can feel them both. I can hear them both breathing above me and don’t want to be anywhere else.
Two weeks ago, I was watching them through my kitchen window. Now I have one of them in my mouth and the other inside me, and I want more. I want this every Thursday for the rest of my life.