I soften. Interiorly. My heart melts for the man, men. My belly even softens. I don’t feel an ounce of the hardness, the resilience, I had just a few seconds ago. I just want to embrace both men.
Oh, but I’m scared.
“I felt dead,” H continues, taking a slow step closer to me, reaching out and caressing an errant black tress from my eye and whispering it behind my ear. “Until you. And it’s nothing you did or said, but suddenly I felt blood pumping through my body again. One look at you and I was alive. But do I deserve you? Doubt it.”
I open my mouth, but H is quicker.
“But I don’t care if I don’t deserve you or not. I mean, I do…”
Jay stands and comes closer, looking at me. “It’s just that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to deserve you because you remind me that I am alive.”
“For you too?” I whisper.
Jay nods. “H says it a lot better than I can, but, yeah, that’s how I feel. One minute I’m a zombie. After you, I’m—I’m awake, alive.”
H smiles and nods his head. “But, listen, you are pregnant. And I know this is going to freak you out, but I kind of love that you are. I want to know more about how you feel. I want to go to your appointments. I want to feel your baby.”
“Yeah,” Jay agrees.
I’m done fighting—fighting myself, mainly. It’s silly to think they’re too perfect for me, or any other argument I’ve been making. Like them, I’d do whatever I could to deserve them. My tears spill down my cheeks as my heart—it’s happy, yes, but feels like it’s being shredded apart.
“I’m sorry,” H whispers.
I shake my head and try so hard to be brave and look at the two most beautiful men I’ve ever known. “Please, don’t be.”
“But something I said made you cry.”
I smile. “Because I love what you said.” I look at Jay. “What both of you said.”
They’re smiling and take steps closer, and I’m scared all over again.
I put a hand out, trying to calm my breath. “I—I just need a second to process. I don’t understand because I’ve had this belief that I’m not good enough, especially for one of you, let alone both.”
Both men begin to argue, but I place my hands on their shoulders, both so firm, so warm. “But I feel the exact same way. I would do whatever it took to deserve you.”
“You don’t have to do a damn thing, Dee,” Jay says. “You’re perfect.”
I shake my head while rolling my eyes.
H snatches me by my sweater. “You’re perfect for us.”
At that I finally give in and smile. Still, there’s more I have to say. “I—I’m scared.”
H pulls me closer to both men. “Understandable.”
“But not because of what you think.” I have to swallow to say it all. “I—I’m not good with money. I’m not good with my life and my responsibilities.”
“How can you say that?” H’s brows instantly furrow with that line between his eyebrows that I love so much.
“Yeah.” Jay shakes his head. “You’re a professional photographer. You’re not a hobbyist. You—”
“Look.” I squeeze Jay’s shoulder, hoping that conveys my apology for interrupting. “I don’t know how to explain the photography thing other than if I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t be alive. Yeah, I make, rather made, money at it—”
“And you can do that again,” H says encouragingly.
“Yes.” I purse my lips. “Yes, I can and I probably will, but for everything else I haven’t been very responsible. And I’ve never taken care of myself. I’ve just somehow survived until now. But I can’t keep living that way. I have someone who needs me to take care of myself. Who’s demanding that of me.” I look down at my belly, thinking of the adorable microscopic baby who’s already bossing me around. “I can’t just jump into bed with both of you.”
H shakes his head. “I said I’d wait. And I mean it. However long it takes. Years. Whatever.”
“Yeah, I’ll wait. Maybe not years. I might pressure you after a while.” Jay shrugs.
I chuckle at Jay, who’s smiling slightly. Oh, but I feel compelled to confess so much more. “I know. It’s me who wants to jump into bed. And, yes, with both of you. I’m sorry.” Then I quickly add when I notice both their gazes glazing over with lust. “That’s why I can’t jump into bed with you.” I groan. “Oh, I don’t make any sense.”
H smiles. “No, it makes sense. It’s just hard to have any logic after you said you want to jump into bed with us.”
Jay softly chuckles. “I was thinking the same thing.” When he looks at me, his eyes soften. “But, look, this is—different. There’s two of us who want you. I don’t know how that works. However, I think it’s safe to say that H and I are willing to work on that. And you’re pregnant, which makes things even more—different. God, I’m bad with the words.”
“No, you’re not, man.”
Jay smiles at H. “So, we’ll, all of us, take this slow, figure things out as we go. We can check the weather, and if it’s good we can take some pictures in the park, eat, maybe head back to our cabin.”
Our cabin. It sounds like our home from Jay’s lips, and I like it so much.
I nod. “So we’ll take things slow, just get ready for the day. Take showers.”
“Yeah, one step at a time, first getting ready for the day.” H smiles.
“Or we could…” I blink at both men, biting my lip, “…take one shower. Together.”
* * *
“You sure?” H asks, his voice low and he’s breathing hard.
We’re already in the bathroom, kissing each other every step of the way. And I was the one who said I couldn’t jump into bed with them. God, I’m just…I don’t even know what. Indecisive?
Yes.
It’s just, raging war in my mind is the ever-present question of what would a good mom do? And maybe a good mom wouldn’t have sex with two men—at once. But would she walk away from those same men when they say they’re excited she’s pregnant and want to know how she feels and want to go with her to the doctor appointments?
Besides that, the only role model I’ve been thinking about, Scarlet Letter’s Hester Prynne, died alone, making me wonder if her stoicism was worth it. Would Hester have traded in her silence for love?
I’m getting carried away with the love thought. Best not to do that.
“Am I sure? To taking a shower?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Together?”
“Just a shower,” Jay says reassuringly while he soothes my arm and waist.
I nod. Just a shower, right? That’s not jumping into bed. But I’m shaking all the same. Not because I’m scared of sex or of the men in front of me. I’m too excited. I’m delirious. And I’m afraid I’m making a mistake. Okay, so, yes, I am scared after all.
“Just a shower.” I nod.
“Can I keep kissing you?” H asks then takes off his henley shirt.
And I can’t think. At all. He’s so tall and muscular and lean. Cut. He has six well-defined boxes lining his stomach. That’s beautiful, yes. But it’s his skin that dazzles me. It’s this dark golden color. It’s flawless and glows and makes me want to lick him everywhere. He has a small patch of black hair in the center of his chest, and a dark line of it under his bellybutton.
Then Jay takes off his t-shirt. I’m going to swoon. I’m getting lightheaded. Have I taken a breath in the last thirty seconds?
Jay is even more muscular than H. He’s all stiff cords of rippling flesh. But what makes me stare at him is his tattoos. I thought he had one or maybe a few, and both of them sport the Navy SEAL’s insignia—an eagle on an anchor holding a trident and an old-fashioned pistol. They both wear the insignia on their shoulders—Jay’s right, H’s left. But on Jay’s left side of his broad torso is the most intricate design I’ve ever seen.
He places a hand over his left pec, covering a Celtic love knot. “It’s a lot. I know.”
I remove his hand, looking him
over. “It’s amazing.” And it is. On his body is chainmail. It begins at his wrist. Covering his shoulder is a knight’s pauldron and gardbrace—the armor that covers the upper arm area. Mixed into the chainmail are Celtic knots. It covers almost all his left side, looking like his flesh is torn away, revealing the armor.
“It’s beautiful.”
Jay smiles slowly. “I—I wanted it since I was a kid. I wanted to be a knight, I guess. It’s stupid. But I saved up for it since I was eleven or so. When I was nineteen, I had enough money. So went and got it. My mom said I’d hate it when—”
“No,” I look up at his bright blue eyes but then glance down at the handiwork all over him.
“My mom said girls would hate it.”
I shake my head. “This girl doesn’t.” Reaching out, I touch the skin, expecting to feel cold metal. Jay’s as tough as any steel, but he’s warm, his flesh is smooth and takes my breath away. “You are a knight.” I whisper. “The both of you, rescuing me…”
I can’t keep touching him or I’ll want so much more. Taking my hand away from Jay’s warmth, I hold my fingers close to my mouth.
“During the shower, we don’t have to touch,” Jay says, making me glance up at his face. His handsome face.
I want to giggle at what he’s said, because he’s touching me now, one hand on my shoulder, the other at my belly, trying to get under my sweater.
“But no sex, right?” H asks then sweeps in for a quick kiss. “Just taking a shower together?”
I nod and touch his chest, his muscles twitch under my fingers. His breath accelerates.
“No sex.” I nod. “Are you sure that’s okay?”
Both men nod too. They have the hem of my sweater and lift. As my jumper leaves my wrists, I hear them moaning. I want to cover my large chest, always unsure of my breasts, but then I look at my men. They’re in pain, lovely, beautiful pain, just by gazing at my chest in a white cotton bra. There’s no lace. No frills. No Victoria Secret here. It’s just me. I’m without a trace of makeup, in a simple cotton bra. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more exposed to a man before, let alone two. And I worried what they would think, but they let me know by their pained expressions. It looks like I’m killing them. Killing them sweetly.
It’s a powerful feeling, looking at my guys when they’re gazing at me like I’m gorgeous, as if I’m some Elizabeth Taylor type, a woman to be worshipped. Not just because of my breasts, but because—it might sound simple—but because I’m me. And that’s the most powerful feeling I’ve ever had.
Slowly, I reach behind and unclasp my bra. In a breathless moment, I take it off and fling it aside, looking at H and Jay, hoping they will continue to like what they see.
“Wow.” H winces, glancing up at me. “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m staring. And gawking. And acting like an idiot.”
“I’m pretty sure I dropped eighty IQ points in the last thirty seconds,” Jay says.
I giggle, which makes both men moan.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” H swoops in again, for, I thought, a quick kiss, but he hesitates, his chest a hairsbreadth from mine. I can’t feel the skin to skin contact, but almost. I feel his warmth and this insane energy pulsing from his body to mine.
Big strong hands grip my waist and pull me away from the kiss. Jay’s there immediately, kissing me too, but he is actually touching me. My nipples just caress his smooth skin and instantly they contract. He moans and opens his mouth, pushing his tongue between my lips.
Then Jay’s suddenly gone. But I’m left huffing for air and looking at H holding Jay away with a firm hand and a scowl.
“Right.” Jay’s voice is dripping with sex—the promise of it, the animal urge for it. “Right. Just taking a shower with Dee. Nothing else.” He glances at H. “Thanks, man. Nearly lost my mind there.”
When I’ve had sex before, I felt…well, sometimes I could let myself feel pretty. Mostly though, I felt used. Even during. And that feels real shitty. The skin-to-skin contact stings with the humiliating fact that the guy who’s inside of me isn’t that into me. Oh, he is enough for sex. But he’s not going to call. He won’t want me to meet his family. Or, worse, he might find a friend of mine much more attractive.
However, right then, with H and Jay, I feel so damned…I guess the word is beautiful. But it’s so much more. I know both of these guys care about me. And not the superficial caring just to get into my pants. At least, I hope not. God, if they fuck me over it just might kill me. But, for once, I don’t think they will. Either of them.
And that’s even more powerful than feeling sexy. Or beautiful. This heady sensation, this fever beneath my skin and in my bones, piercing my heart is their consideration and affection for me. Without any makeup. Without my mask.
Low at my belly, between my legs, I’m liquid. I feel an ache, a need to be filled, even though I know we are just taking a shower.
Nothing more.
Unless I want it to be.
Somehow, I have more audacity than I ever have before. I take the waistbands of their pajama pants and pull them closer to the tub. Leaning over, I turn on the water. When I straighten, both their gazes are glassy, making them look drunk. On me. God, it makes me want to rub myself all over them. But somehow I stand calmly. Feeling in charge. For once.
I try to undo both H and Jay’s draw strings for their pants, but I need both hands for one. Maybe with practice I can unclothe both of them at the same time. And wouldn’t that be fantastic?
I focus on Jay’s pajama pants, since he’s closer, but both men are unbuttoning and unzipping me. They’re a lot faster than I am, and I’m a little distracted when I rub my wrist against Jay's huge bulge. He jerks and moans, his hands now idle on my hips.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head. But he’s closing his eyes, his face tense.
Thinking he might need a second, I try to undress H, who’s already pulling down my jeans. But I nudge against his erection, and he gives an almost identical reaction as Jay’s. However, he stays my hands, holding them in one of his while he’s breathing hard.
“I think it’s best if I take off my own pants. That way I might not embarrass myself too much.”
I bite my lip. “Am I doing it wrong?”
He smiles quickly, giving me a fast hug. “No, sweetheart. Just a little too good.”
“Amen,” Jay adds.
“So we’ll take off our own clothes?” I grip my jeans that are stuck at the roundest point of my curvy hips.
Jay nods. “Good idea.”
“On the count of three?” H is smiling mischievously, and I love it when he’s grinning and having fun.
So I join in and nod. “Yeah.”
“One…” H’s voice is low and slightly raspy.
I swallow. “Are we taking everything off? Or just our pants?”
“Everything,” Jay answers. His voice is a growl, the timbre feeling like a caress against both my nipples.
I nod.
“Two…”
Both men are looking at me with wide grins. And I start giggling.
“Three!”
I’m busy sliding my clothes down and laughing and listening to them chuckle. For half a second I’m having too much fun to worry about the size of my thighs. But then, after flinging my pants aside, I glance up. There they are, two of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, staring at me. God, I wish I’d worked out more. Eaten less. Had a different body.
“Yes.” Jay’s voice sounds strained. “Fucking beautiful.”
Putting my immediate discomfort at being so naked in front of such perfect men aside, I finally take a peek. Oh. Oh god. I lick my lips as I can’t help but gaze at their cocks. Jay is so thick and engorged. And H…oh. He’s so hard, so excited his perfect length is pointed up towards his stomach, hiding his bellybutton.
I mean to say, “Wow,” or “Not so bad yourself,” or something flirty. Instead, I just make a muttering moan, like a crazed whis
per. My nipples are beading all over again. I’m so wet.
“Hot enough for you?” H cocks a brow.
“Wh-what?” I stammer.
He smiles like he knows I can’t take my eyes from his perfect member. “Is the water hot enough? Ready to get in?”
I nod, but I don’t know what I’m agreeing to. It’s Jay who turns me around and basically manhandles me to get into the shower. It’s wide with a tile shelf for sitting. And it doesn’t have just one shower, but four heads, sprinkling water from the top and sides. Lovely.
Jay has a shampoo bottle in one hand and opens it like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Coconut.” He says after he smells the shampoo. “You like coconut, Dee?”
I nod. Again, not sure what I’m agreeing to, but at this moment I like everything.
“Here,” H says softly, “Let’s get you wet.”
I’m not fast enough to say some cheesy line about how I’m already wet. I’m in a stupor at that point. A little speechless and so fucking happy.
With feather-soft fingertips, H guides me to one of the shower heads, wonderfully warm water cascading down my hair, my body. I have to close my eyes and lean my head back, and am rewarded with, first, the sensation of an erection pressing against my stomach, then a kiss along my throat.
“I love your neck,” H whispers in my ear, his beard, the coarseness of his hair, sweeps against my temple. “Your skin there is so…light. It’s silver here.” He touches along my exposed flesh, the sensitive area along the tendons at the front of my neck.
I want to tell him how I think he’s gold, but then large hands tunnel through my hair, sudsing something tropical into my tresses. I’m pulled slightly out of the spray, trying to remember the last time someone’s washed my hair. Oh, sure, my mother gets me into a salon about once a year, but that feels so…awkward. And besides, while I’m getting a shampooing, my mother’s talking in the background about how I always, always let my hair grow too long.
I’m pretty sure Jay is shampooing my hair, because H’s hands are on my waist, now climbing up.
“Just a shower, man,” Jay reprimands.
“Yep, just a shower.” H’s voice cracks, and then another set of hands are in my hair, washing me.
Fly (Wild Love Book 2) Page 18