Presley
“Love you, Aunt Pres.”
“I love you guys. Have fun tonight.” I give Avery and Alyssa one more quick hug before they walk outside to Dominique’s car.
“Enjoy the quiet house to yourself tonight.” Dominique winks. “I still think you should call up your boyfriends and have some adult time.”
“I’m sure they’re busy. It’s Friday night.”
“Neither team is playing tonight.” She shrugs. “Just saying.”
“And I’m not going to bother them on their night off. Plus, I have a shit-ton of laundry to do.”
She scrunches her nose. “You’re right. Laundry sounds so much better than taking two dicks at once.”
My mouth drops open as I swat her arm. “I’m never telling you anything again. Get out of here.”
Dominique’s laughter follows behind her as she darts across the grass and hops in her car.
Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and let out a big sigh. I hate how empty the house feels when the kids aren’t here, yet it’s nice to get a break and not have to be on for the kids.
I give my sister so much credit for raising them on her own. I wish I was older when they were born so that I could’ve helped out more.
I throw the first load of laundry in, and head upstairs to take a shower. You know you’re pathetic when the highlight of your Friday night is to take a long, steamy, everything shower without anyone in the house to disturb you or use up all the hot water.
Back in college, I was living it up, dancing on bars, dominating at beer pong, and yes, as Dominique so eloquently put it, taking two dicks at once.
My body reacts to the memory as I lather myself with soap. What I wouldn’t give to go back to the time the three of us shared in that dorm room. Stephen’s insatiable appetite, and Chance’s dominating way; watching the two of them together was almost as hot as being the focus of their attention.
I unhook the shower head and pull it down, aiming the warm spray between my legs.
The boys are a bit older now, fuller in all the right places than the lean muscle I last saw them with.
Stephen with his adorable freckles and curls; the dimples bracketing his killer smile; and captivating crystal-blue eyes.
He gives off total golden retriever energy, making you laugh until your sides hurt.
But when he gets you in the bedroom, sexy charisma oozes out of him, and he could sweet talk you into doing anything.
He’s fun and flirty, and has stamina for hours.
Chance is more reserved, more in control.
He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but oh when he lets you see it, it’s the most incredible thing you’ll ever witness.
He’s passionate, and loves deeply. Your pleasure is the only thing he cares about, which is what makes his dominant nature in the bedroom so mind-blowing.
God, I miss them.
Stephen’s kiss last weekend moves to the forefront of my mind. I could’ve come right in the middle of the parking lot with the way he felt through his sweatpants, pressed against me and rubbing where I wanted him most. He ravaged my mouth, letting me know how much he wants me still.
My hips rock against the stream of water, chasing a release to the thought of the only two men I’ve ever loved.
I’ve done this before, pleasured myself to their memories.
But this time is different. Now, they’re back in my life, and I’m not getting off to the memories of what we did.
Now, I’m imagining all the new ways they can touch me, please me, and make me feel good.
Now, I have to look them in the eyes, knowing I came to fantasies of them.
I let out a frustrated groan, and set the shower head back in its place on the wall.
I need to stop.
Nothing good will come of this.
I need to keep things platonic with them.
I don’t step out of the bathroom until I’ve rinsed out my deep conditioning mask, and removed the hair from every orifice. Not that I have anyone to see my handiwork, but it makes me feel good.
Pulling an oversized tee over my head, I shimmy into a pair of cotton boy shorts and head down to the kitchen. Fuck cooking. I’m going to order a pizza tonight.
But the sound of the doorbell garners my attention before I can find the delivery menu.
I squint one eye and peer through the peep hole.
And my heart stalls out.
I peek through it again just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
I swing open the door, and obsidian eyes meet mine.
“Chance, what are you doing here?”
He glances down at my bare legs—my very smooth and shiny bare legs, thank you—and arches a brow. “Do you often answer the door without pants on?”
I roll my eyes. “I checked the peep hole first. Come inside, it’s chilly.”
Carrying a shopping tote in each hand, he steps into the foyer. “I brought dinner. Heard you were on your own tonight.”
I groan and slap my forehead with my palm. “Dominique called you, didn’t she?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Chance carries the bags into the kitchen and sets them on the counter before turning to face me.
“I might’ve heard that you were going to have the house to yourself tonight, and that you’d probably just order pizza because you wouldn’t feel like cooking, so I figured I’d come over and cook you something better than pizza. ”
“Better than pizza?” I cross my arms over my chest. Fuck, I’m not wearing a bra. “That’s doubtful.”
“Hey.” He pulls me into his arms and tilts my head back to look up at him. “I want you to enjoy this time without the kids. I know how rare it must be for you. I’m not trying to ruin that. I just want to cook you a nice meal, and if you want me to go, then I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”
This man.
I rest my head on his chest, and let him engulf me in his embrace. His arms are solid, slightly bigger than they were in college. I can only imagine how good he looks now, on a professional athlete’s training regimen. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress the building ache.
“God, you smell good,” I murmur.
I should’ve made myself come in the shower. Then maybe I wouldn’t be ready to hump his leg like a dog in heat.
His shoulders shake with his low chuckle. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Something about cooking me a nice meal.” I hum, sucking in another lungful of his scent. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted at the moment.”
“Imagine how I feel with the sexiest woman alive standing in front of me without any pants on.”
I laugh. “Please. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“I’ve only seen it in my dreams for the last four years.” His lips are at the cusp of my ear. “I still can’t believe you’re really here, in my arms right now.”
I can feel the yearning rolling off of him in waves, crashing into my own desire. My brain short-circuits being this close to him. His voice in my ear, his arms around me, his lips mere inches from mine.
Torturing myself more, I lift my arms and run my fingers through his tousled hair. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too.” He rests his forehead against mine, letting his hands skate down my ribs. He stops at my hips, being a gentleman even though my shirt is riding up, and I’m overcome by the notion of how much I don’t want him to be a gentleman right now.
Stephen had a taste. It’s only fair to let Chance have his, right?
My skin heats, my body coming alive, and it’s more than the way I felt in the shower. I’ve deprived myself of physical touch from another for so long, it’s as if my body is taking control right now, overriding the warning signals my brain is trying to send.
Slow down.
Don’t go any further.
You shouldn’t do this.
I helplessly try to stay in control, to keep my wits. But I know what this man can do to my body, the way he can make me feel, and the visceral need to have him pulls me under.
Maybe for one night, I can pretend like my choices don’t have consequences. For one night, I can forget about being a parent and do something selfish. For one night, I can be the person I used to be.
“Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll let you know when dinner is ready,” Chance whispers.
I lift my head a fraction of an inch, and brush the tip of my nose against his. “Forget about dinner, Chance.”
His hands ball my T-shirt into his fists. “You’re not hungry?”
I shake my head.
One of his hands comes up to rest at the back of my neck. “Do you want me to leave?”
I shake my head again.
“Then what do you want, baby? Use your words and tell me.”
“You, Chance. I want you.”
“You’ve got me.” His lips brush against mine. “You’ve always had me.”
“Kiss me.” I nip at his bottom lip. “Please.”
My plea is like the shot at the starting line.
His fingers grip my hair at the base of my neck, and he tugs, jerking my mouth up to his.
He devours me, kissing me with such need, such force, that it steals my breath.
His tongue surges into my mouth and winds around mine.
It’s all-consuming, and all I can do is grip onto his shoulders, my feet barely touching the tile below.
He lifts me and plops me on the counter, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling his hips against mine.
A moan escapes me, but I can’t find it in myself to be embarrassed for how needy I sound.
Chance has a bruising grip on my waist, grinding me against himself like he’s just as desperate as I am.
And then the doorbell rings.
My eyebrows dip. “Who the hell...?”
Chance steps back, his eyes dropping to the floor as his chest heaves. “It’s Stephen.”
I tilt my head. “What?” I hop off the counter and stalk toward the door to peer through the peephole. “How did you know?”
Chance rubs the back of his neck as he comes to stand beside me, not saying a word.
A humorless laugh escapes me as I swing open the door. “I can’t wait to talk to Dominique tomorrow.”
Stephen smiles wide and holds up a bottle of tequila. “Happy Friday, pretty girl.”
I roll my eyes, fighting a grin. “Let me guess: Dominique took the kids because she thinks I need to be thoroughly fucked, so you both came over to double-team me. Is that right?”
Chance shakes his head, starting to refute, but Stephen shrugs and says, “Basically.”