I swallow, jerking my eyes away from the heat I see in Matt’s eyes and stabbing blindly at Johnny’s phone. “We should… we should have that for dinner,” I babble, not caring at all what it is.
It takes them a minute, but then they both turn to look, gracious about letting the sexual tension ease. Or at least… letting it stay under the rug. Nothing inside me has eased, that’s for sure.
“Tacos?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to the side as he squints at the small screen. “I’m down with that.”
“Those aren’t just tacos, they’re Pineapple Habenero Pork Carnitas tacos, bro,” Matt says, reading the caption. “And damn, those do look good. Pretty sure we don’t have a take-out menu for that, though.”
“Let’s make them ourselves,” I say, suddenly filled with a surge of… motivation.
Yep, sexual frustration is a great motivator.
But then I do sort of get excited about the idea of making them. I mean, I still need to knock #66 off The List, don’t I? And maybe learning to cook in the company of two actual firefighters will prevent me from, oh, I don’t know, burning the house down again?
“Uh,” Johnny says, shaking his head back and forth. “I dunno, Eden. Maybe we just all hop in my truck and hit that new Mexican place?”
“Pretty sure we don’t have any pineapple here at the house,” Matt says, sounding relieved about it. He rubs at the back of his neck. “Or pork. Or cilantro. Or tortillas. Or—”
I laugh, cutting him off. I know I’m in trouble, though, because the fact that they’re both so clearly terrified by the idea only makes me all the more attracted.
To.
Both.
Of.
Them.
Lord, what’s wrong with me?
Nothing I can’t ignore. I get to my feet before my libido overrides my good sense.
“Come on,” I say, determined to make it work. “Let’s do this. Please?”
“You do know it’s Friday the thirteenth, right, Eden?” Johnny says, humoring me anyway and getting to his feet. “You sure you wanna push your luck that way?”
I give him a wounded look… which hopefully covers up how I’m having trouble catching my breath. My heart is racing and those tingles are making me want to do wicked things, because Johnny is huge, and now that he’s standing, we’re far too close.
Not close enough.
So close that it’s all I can do not to wrap myself around him and beg him to have his way with me again.
Instead, I get ahold of myself and turn to grab Matt’s free hand, tugging on him until he stands, too.
“You really want to do this?” Matt asks, running his thumb over the back of my hand and making me shiver.
“I really do.”
I want to do all of it, but cooking together will have to be enough.
“Just checking,” Matt says, grinning down on me. “Because I know it’s on your list and all, but if I remember correctly, the last time you cooked something…”
“Oh, you,” I say, smacking his shoulder. “I can’t believe you went there.”
“Hey, did I say burning down your place was a bad thing?” he retorts, still grinning. “I’ve got no complaints about how that turned out, and if you really wanna give it another go tonight… I mean, who knows what we’ll get out of it this time, yeah?”
He’s still holding my hand, doing distracting things to it, and I’m blushing again, all too aware of Johnny next to me but incapable of pulling away from Matt’s touch. Finally, he drops my hand, saying something about finding his wallet, and heads out of the room. I stare at his ass as he leaves, but then catch myself and dart a guilty glance up at Johnny. And… oh.
Oh.
Something trembles inside me. Was Johnny staring at Matt’s ass, too?
He catches me looking at him and gives me a sheepish smile, a pink tinge coloring his cheeks as he says, “So, tacos, huh? That sounds… good.”
I almost let it slide.
I should let it slide.
I can’t. Holy shit! Have I totally misread things?
“Johnny, are you…” I bite my lip, suddenly remembering the conversation with Matt about his dad. I lower my voice. “Does Matt know that you’re, um, that you—”
“No,” he says, and I have to give it to him, he doesn’t pretend not to understand.
Or that it isn’t true.
He shrugs, glancing down the hall. “Matty’s not real open-minded about some things, so, you know, we’re just… not ever gonna go there, okay?”
I nod, my heart squeezing tight for him. I know how much he cares about Matt. I see it every day.
And then, selfishly, I have another thought, and I go pale. “Does that mean… when we, um, when you and I… were you just… pretending?”
As soon as I ask, I know there’s no way. A tiny whimper escapes me before he can answer, and I’m squeezing my thighs together as another surge of desire rocks through me. That was hands down the best sex of my life, and Johnny was one hundred percent into it, too, I know it for sure.
He cups my cheek, eyes hot. “Oh, hell no,” he says, the husky tone of his voice confirming it even as he says the words. “Wanting him doesn’t take away from how bad I want you, Eden.”
How bad he wants me.
Still.
Present tense.
He runs his thumb over my lips, and I gasp, the light touch shooting straight to my core. And then he wraps his other huge hand gently around the back of my neck, steadying me, and the rest of what he said hits me.
Wanting him.
Wanting… him.
Him. Matt. Johnny wants Matt, too, which is what we’ve just been talking about, of course, but suddenly I’m actually thinking about what that means.
Picturing it.
Panting with it.
This would shock even Auntie Maria, but the vision of the two of them together is so vivid that, for a second, I forget myself completely and moan, eyes locked on Johnny’s but mind full of the dirtiest, hottest images I’ve ever fantasized about.
Johnny’s big hands on Matt’s incredible body.
Matt’s teasing smile turning into a greedy moan as Johnny undresses him the way he did with me. But rougher. More urgently. Until Matt turns the tables and pushes Johnny down and straddles him. The two of them grinding together, Johnny’s ever-moving mouth silenced under Matt’s hot kiss, and then—
“Jesus, Eden,” Johnny growls, his mouth crashing into mine. One hard kiss and then he backs off, shooting a look toward the hallway as he whispers, “You’re killing me, princess.”
I touch my mouth, chest heaving. “I… I was picturing the two of you together,” I say, too turned on to censor myself. “Matt is so hot.”
Oh, Lord. I cannot believe I just said that to him. But Johnny just laughs, scrubbing a hand over his face, then shakes his head and smiles down at me ruefully.
“You get a chance at helping with those sponge baths, Eden? Let’s just say I want you to take it for both of us.”
“You… you wouldn’t mind?”
Johnny gives me a wicked, wicked smile. “Did you mind, princess, when you were thinking of him and me together just now?”
My breath hitches. We both know the answer to that one, and the idea of Johnny getting just as turned on fantasizing about me with Matt… oh my God, can I really have my cake and eat it, too?
Johnny’s smile turns even dirtier—and the way his eyes move down my body? I swear I can feel it—but before he can say anything else, Matt walks back into the room. Johnny winks at me, and my heart starts to race, because yes, I’m pretty sure he’s just given me permission to do exactly that. And when he makes a pointed comment about the 24-hour shift he’ll be working in a few days?
I know for sure he has.
9
Matt
“Please tell me you’re hungry,” Eden says, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face as she looks back at me over her shoulder in a pose that’s sexy as hell.
Of course, she probably doesn’t mean it to be, but damn, the girl gets to me.
“Absolutely,” I say, willing to eat whatever she comes up with… even if it’s burned again. The ruffled apron she’s wearing while she works on our lunch is giving me dirty ideas, and since I’m pretty sure I actually am earning some points after a full weekend of helping her knock learning to cook off her bucket list, it’s taking a lot for me to stay in my seat and not try and do something about them.
It doesn’t help my willpower that it’s hot as fuck outside and our air conditioner is on the fritz. She’s got nothing but a tiny tank top and short shorts on underneath the apron, and from a certain angle, it’s like all these fantasies in my head are already coming to life.
Of course, you could argue that me and my left arm haven’t actually been all that helpful here in the kitchen—as evidenced by the fact that I’m sitting here on my ass while I watch hers—but hey, Eden’s not complaining. And sure, maybe I haven’t been able to do a whole lot with actually cutting vegetables and the like, but I’ve been pretty good with looking things up online as needed, so I’m claiming credit there.
And as far as the hands-on help? Well, Johnny does have two good hands, and he was right here with us all weekend chipping in, but since he’s not around today? I figure I’ll just seize the opportunity and claim whatever points he earned by proxy.
I grin, liking the math. Seems fair to me, at least.
Eden slides a spatula under the sandwich she’s got grilling and carefully transfers it to a plate, then turns and catches me looking. I can’t tell if her cheeks are pink from the heat or from something else, but since I like to think of myself as a glass-half-full person most days, I figure I’ll go with something else.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks, biting that lip I still haven’t tasted yet.
“Like I said, I’m hungry,” I tell her. My dick perks up since this front-view is the one that makes her look naked under the apron, but I tell it to be patient, and ask, “How did the sandwich turn out?”
“Good?” Eden answers, sounding uncertain as she brings it over to the table. “I mean, it’s just grilled cheese…”
“Grilled cheese is my favorite,” I say, deciding it’s true enough when it wins me a smile. She sets the plate down in front of me, and I add, “This looks great, Eden.”
I mean, it’s just cheese and bread, so not much to go wrong, amirite? And okay, so the edges are a little… dark. But honestly, it really doesn’t look bad at all, and I’m actually pretty proud of suggesting it. Given some of the flubs we had over the weekend, I figured she needed a solid win.
Those flubs, though? Gotta admit, the three of us had about as good of a time as I can imagine, given that all our clothes stayed on. It’s kind of amazing, actually, how well Eden fits in here with me and Johnny, and it just makes me more certain than ever that I want to make sure it turns into a more long-term situation.
She’s standing close enough that I can count a couple of freckles, high up on her thigh under the edge of those short shorts, and the way she’s poking at the sandwich with the spatula and chewing that lip to death make it look like she’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with it.
I bite back a smile. I wouldn’t ever say this out loud, but cooking just isn’t that hard. I mean, sure, I don’t do much of it now, but back when I was a kid, my dad made me help with practically every meal, and the only reason Johnny and I live on take-out is… well, it doesn’t matter. Guess I just lost my stomach for working in the kitchen after things went to shit.
But Eden? I don’t know; it’s like she’s got a mental block or something. She really has managed one disaster or another with pretty much everything we’ve tried, but as far as I’m concerned, that’s one part cute and one part opportunity. It’s important to her for whatever reason, so if she hasn’t gotten it down by the time this damn cast comes off, I’ve already got plans to start getting a lot more helpful.
This sandwich, though, it’s a win.
I take the spatula out of her hand and set it aside. “Stop abusing it, beautiful. It looks good. Smells good. It’s gonna be fantastic.”
She stares at it for another sixty seconds or so, and then—
“Maybe?” she finally agrees, her lips curving up. “I mean, it actually does look pretty edible, doesn’t it?”
“Totally,” I agree, although with all this skin showing and right in arm’s reach? I’m not thinking about the sandwich at all.
“Are you going to taste it?” she asks, turning big eyes on me.
I rein in my dirty mind. “Not until you do,” I say, tugging her down on my lap… because that’s really the best place to reach the sandwich from, yeah?
She giggles, but settles on my thighs without protest.
Win.
“So, does this count?” I ask as she takes the first bite. “Can we cross the whole learn-to-cook thing off of your bucket list now?”
She shakes her head. “No. But… oh my God, it’s actually good?” She takes another bite, her smile so big it does things to me that have nothing to do with how happy my dick is with our seating arrangement, then she adds, “I think I still want to try something a little more professional before I count this item as done. You can’t serve grilled cheese at a dinner party.”
“Oh, we’re having a dinner party now?” I tease her, grinning. “Who’s coming?”
She deflates a little. “Well, I guess it’s a stupid idea. Besides you and Johnny, I haven’t met all that many people in Boston yet.”
“Hey,” I say, tipping her chin up. “You want a dinner party, we’ll do a dinner party, yeah? Whatever it takes to get number sixty off your list.”
An idea flashes through my mind, but Eden’s lips twitch and distract me—shiny from the melted cheese and close enough to test my willpower—so I figure I’ll come back to it later.
“Cooking is number sixty-six, actually,” she says, her eyes sort of glowing at me like I’ve just earned a few bonus points. “Sixty was riding a mechanical bull.”
“Jesus, Eden,” I say, huffing out a laugh. My cock starts to swell, and the image of that doesn’t help at all when it comes to my attempt at keeping my hands off her.
Well… hand, singular.
And okay, so my good hand is most definitely on her, but I’ve got to make sure she’s balanced, right? I’ve got it resting low on her back to stabilize her, right where there’s a tempting strip of skin showing between her shorts and top, and it’s all I can do not to give the apron strings tickling my fingers a tug and undo them.
She’s blushing about the mechanical bull comment now, but hello, that’s a spark of heat in her eyes, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that underneath that embarrassment, she’s picturing something too.
She licks her lips and shifts a little on my lap, and… well, shit. No way she doesn’t feel the evidence that’s right there and growing by the minute.
“You… you really like grilled cheese, I guess?” she asks, eyes sparkling.
And damn, I’m starting to get so turned on that it takes me a few to realize she’s teasing me.
“If I say yes, are you gonna give me some?” I ask, taking a chance and sliding my hand down over her ass. Her breath hitches—so fucking sexy—and I give it a little squeeze as I hold up my cast and turn puppy eyes on her. “I don’t have a free hand, now do I?”
She stands up, and for a second, I think I’ve screwed up—but then she sits right back down, straddling my lap this time so we’re face-to-face, and I start thinking maybe I’ve just hit the jackpot, instead.
She tears off a tiny piece of the sandwich and holds it to my mouth, and you’ve gotta bet I will take anything she wants me to at this point.
I chew.
I swallow.
I’m hard as fucking stone and more than happy to give that mechanical bull a run for its money if she lets me.
“What do you think?” she asks, voice all breathless and sexy.
“Is it… is it any good?”
“Perfect,” I say, and suddenly I’m feeling way more coordinated with my left hand than I have for the past couple of weeks. It’s back on her ass, and I rock her forward a little to see if this is going where I hope it is, and… yeah.
Fuck yeah.
Her eyelids flutter a little as her hands land on my shoulders for balance, and she makes a cock-hardening sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, rolling her hips forward even more so that I’m centered right between her legs.
And holy Christ, is my dick ever happy right now. The soft heat at her core? Fucking heaven.
“Matt,” she says, cheeks flushed bright pink and pupils blown wide. “Are you sure we should… should—”
“Yes,” I say before she can get the question out. Never been more certain in my life, and not just because I want her so bad I can taste it.
Eden fits everywhere. Here on my lap. Here at the house with me and Johnny. She’s in my head and pretty sure she’s working her way into my heart already, too. And right now? Oh hell yes, I’m one hundred percent sure that we should find out just how well we fit in a few other ways.
Ways that will involve me getting up close and personal with those freckles I saw.
Ways that should have her panting my name if I do it right.
Ways that are going to pretty much guarantee that I start to like cooking again.
I urge her on with my hand, sort of kneading her ass, and she starts putting those bull-riding skills to use, rocking against me until I swear I’m at risk of coming in my pants like a horny teenager. Partly because of how damn good it feels on my cock, and partly because of the expression on her face.
Jesus, she’s getting lost in it fast, and watching her is the most erotic thing I’ve seen in… ever.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Eden,” I grit out, cursing the fact that I’m down an arm. No way am I letting go with my left, but I need to finally get a taste of that mouth she’s starting to pant out of, and it kills me that I can’t reach up and pull her to me. “Kiss me.”
She moans with a kind of pleasure that makes it sound like she’s just been waiting for permission, hands coming off my shoulders to grip the back of my head, and when she brings her mouth to mine? Guess I wasn’t lying when I told her how hungry I am, because I fucking devour her.
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