by Lily Harlem
“Don’t say anything, just open it,” Tim said. “It’s about time you got spoiled.”
I pulled open the mouth of the bag and reached in, took out a matching turquoise box and prised open the lid.
Dean paused his scribbling on the music paper. “They’re from me,” he said.
“They’re beautiful,” I exclaimed, studying the diamond earrings. They were set in platinum and dazzled from their soft cream sponge. “Thank you so much, I love them.”
“Good,” he said. “You can wear them later, at Christmas dinner.”
“Christmas dinner?” I had plans for dinner, but I didn’t think a “microwave meal for one” warranted wearing diamond earrings. “What do you mean?”
“You’re coming to our home. Mum makes a fabulous roast and on Christmas Day she goes all out with the trimmings.”
“But it’s family time, you don’t want me there.”
“You really think we’d let you eat alone?” Tim asked, frowning. “And of course we want you there.”
“But, but I can’t just show up.”
“You’ve been invited,” Dean said with a shrug. “Who do you think I called last night when we arrived here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”
“Mum and Dad are dying to meet you,” Dean said. “Your name has come up in several conversations with both of us lately eh, Tim?”
“Yep, they’ll be pleased to finally meet the face behind the name.”
I reached for my coffee. My fingers were itching to open my other present but I needed to clear something up first. “If my name has come up in conversations with both of you, does that mean…” I struggled to find the right words. “Does that mean they get it if you both, you know, like the same girl.”
Tim placed his hand on my cheek and turned me to face him. He let out a low sigh. “I ought to explain,” he said quietly. “When we were setting up the band, we both fell for Harriet Drew in a big way. She was a trainee journalist doing a story on up-and-coming groups. She liked us too, both of us. She dated Dean and then me over the course of several months until one day I came home from the gym early and found her in bed with Dean.” He paused and glanced at his brother. “She’d been with me the night before and I saw red.” His eyes darkened. “To cut a long story short, I punched the hell out of Dean—”
“I punched you right back, asshole,” Dean huffed.
“Yep, you did.” Tim rubbed his jaw as if remembering an old ache. “And then she walked out and we never saw her again.”
“We decided there and then never to fall out over a woman,” Dean said. “We made a pact that if we liked the same girl we would share. Why not, it was only what we’d always done with our stuff over the years, Mum had made sure of that.”
“So when Heidi came along a while back, we made her a proposition,” Tim said. “We were both into her and she liked us.” He shrugged. “It made for a great arrangement for nearly a year.”
I cast my mind back. Heidi. I vaguely remembered the name but I couldn’t recall seeing any pictures of her. But then it was only the last couple of years the boys had really been hounded by the press. “What happened?” I asked. “In the end.”
“We had lots of fun,” Dean said with a lopsided grin. “Mum and Dad thought she was cool, we took good care of her, but then her ex swooped back onto the scene. You didn’t need to be Einstein to work out she’d never really gotten over him.”
“Yeah, her eyes went all gooey when he walked into the restaurant that evening,” Tim said. “A bit like yours did last night when you’d had that mulled wine and were snuggled up to me on the sofa.” He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to my lips. My stomach did a somersault as the tip of his tongue touched mine.
“So we let her go,” Dean said. “And there’s been no one that’s taken our fancy until you emerged like a beautiful butterfly from your depression.”
“My depression?” I pulled back from Tim and looked at Dean.
“Yeah, the darkness, your hibernation, over what’s his name…Nick.” Dean pulled a face.
“Ancient history,” I said, frowning at the mention of Nick. “I don’t know what I saw in him for so long. There’s certainly no danger of me going gooey over him ever again.”
“Good,” Tim said firmly.
“Yeah, that’s music to our ears,” Dean said. He cocked his head and studied me. “We knew you’d get out of those drab clothes eventually, find your spark and come back to life and wow, when you did, I just about embarrassed myself in the studio that morning.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“I just about came in my damn boxers,” Dean clarified with a twisted grin. “One look at those sheer stockings and I had to play it safe and study your new haircut for the rest of the day.”
I smiled and recalled the buzz I’d gotten that morning as they’d eyed me so appreciatively.
“So,” Tim said. “We’ve done this before, we know we can do it, the question is, can you?”
“You mean, belong to both of you? Make a go of this as a relationship?” I pointed between the three of us.
“Yep,” Tim murmured, searching my eyes with his. “That’s exactly what we mean. Not publicly of course, but between us, our family and the guys you’ll be ‘our’ woman.”
I studied the emerald base of his irises and his wide black pupils. Tim was everything I wanted, and so was Dean. There was no denying it, individually they had enough to keep the most demanding woman satisfied but combined, wow, it would be a roller-coaster ride of pleasure. Heidi was a damn fool to have let them go, but hey, her loss was my gain.
“Yes,” I said, brushing the pad of my thumb over Tim’s low brows then down over his bristly cheek. I looked over at Dean. “I want to be yours, both of yours.” I hadn’t felt so sure about anything in a long time.
Tim’s soft lips spread into a wide grin. “Great, now open your present from me.” He pulled back and gestured to the Tiffany bag still in my lap.
I dipped in and pulled out a slightly larger box. I flipped the lid and was greeted with a string of diamonds. “Oh, wow,” I gasped. “More of the little sparkly things, what a treat.” I pulled it out and draped it on my wrist. It was too short to be a necklace.
“It’s not a bracelet,” Tim said, pinching it up in his big fingers. “It’s an anklet.” In one swift movement he reached down, wrapped his other hand around my right ankle and drew it to his lap. The movement caused me to spin and fall backward on the sofa. The soft black t-shirt I was wearing rucked up my thighs to reveal my nakedness.
Tim paused and looked down at my parted legs, my strip of pubic hair and my pussy lips.
“Oh, you’re such a little temptress,” he said, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.
“I couldn’t find my panties,” I giggled, drawing my legs together.
“Kitchen floor,” Dean said in a husky voice. “Where you left them.”
Tim made fast work of fastening the anklet, paused to admire it for a split second then bent to kiss my calf. “You taste of summer flowers again,” he said, shuffling down the sofa so he could settle his tongue on the inside of my knee. “Delicious.”
My heart rate quickened. A pull grew in my pelvis as blood rushed to meet his touch. His kisses moved upward and his hands parted my thighs. Everywhere his stubbled chin touched, my skin tingled as if it were being licked by wild fire.
I glanced out the window at the city and its millions of eyes. Willed a semblance of sanity into my lust-addled brain. “But…but everyone will see…”
“One-way glass,” Dean said, setting his guitar against the arm of the chair and standing. The top button of his jeans was undone and they hung low on his hips, revealing the dense hair trailing to his cock.
“Oh, yes, of course…” I said, remembering.
Dean stepped closer and glanced down at his brother settling between my parted legs. I stared up into his face and gasped as Tim
’s fingers ruffled through my pubic hair and applied pressure just above my swelling clit.
“So we can do whatever we want and no one can see,” Dean said in a deep voice, fiddling with his fly. “And we’ve got hours ’til we have to be at dinner.” His voice dropped ever lower and he looked me in the eye. “Hours to do whatever we want.”
“Yeah, best work up an appetite,” Tim murmured.
His hot breath washed over my pussy lips and I trembled with the need for him to touch me, treat me to his fingers and tongue the way he had the night before. “Yes, appetite, work up an appetite,” I said, squirming as Tim’s tongue made contact. He took a slow glide from my entrance through my soft folds to my clit. I arched my back against the sofa. “Oh, god, Tim, yes like that.”
Dean leaned over me and pressed a hot kiss to my lips. “I’m so glad you agreed to be ours,” he murmured. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
He pulled back and I looked up at his eyes, brimming with lust and desire. “I know,” I said. “I know you’ll give me everything I need, just like I will you.” I reached for the waistband of his jeans and tugged them down over his straining cock. He hadn’t bothered with underwear and his cock sprang out into my hand, hot and hard, the head swollen and flushed with arousal.
“For the last six months, you’ve always given us everything practical we need,” Dean murmured. “Now it’s just time to move this to a whole new level. Now it’s time to give all of our hearts, bodies and souls what they need too.”
Tim pushed into my pussy with two thick fingers. “Oh god,” I muttered as he found my G-spot with the tips and began an insistent rub. He was so good, so damn accurate every time. “Whole new level,” I panted up at Dean. “Hearts, bodies and souls.” These two men made me mindless, my mouth couldn’t form the words my brain sent down. I just wanted them to be part of me, for us to become one writhing mass of ecstasy like we had the night before.
Dean placed his hands on the back of the sofa and his cock hung above my mouth. I licked my lips and lifted my head. He dipped his hips and I drew in the wide, smooth head of his cock. I let him slide over my tongue, sucking as he went and cupping and rolling his balls with my palm.
Tim claimed my clit in a long, luxurious suck that made my whole body pulse with desire. I grabbed hold of Dean’s hips and pulled him deeper. When he hit my gag reflex I tightened my lips at the base of his shaft and gave small gulps to tug his velvety head deeper into my throat.
He hissed in a breath. “Ah, fuck,” he said. “I love your mouth, Sylvia, I love you all over but jeez, your sweet, dirty mouth is just the best.”
The End
About the Author
Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily’s stories are made up of colorful characters traveling on everyone’s favorite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t romantic, sexy and exciting, it won’t be written, at least not by this author.
Lily welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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