Or maybe today is the day.
Maybe I should.
Uneasy, I pull my phone from my pocket. My tense expression stares back at me from the darkened screen. My thumb trembles as I unlock it. I’m scrolling through my contacts when I hear the faint jingle of keys at the door.
My heart immediately kicks up. A flood of excitement and dread that has me stuffing my phone away just as the door opens and both my men step over the threshold.
Windswept, rosy cheeked. Nick in his suit, long fingers yanking at his tie. Dom in his dark jeans and long, wool coat. Both are grinning, but Nick is talking. Something about the peanut lady around the corner — I haven’t been pelted by anything since arriving, but I’m always conscious of not being on my phone when I round that bend.
They are so beautiful.
Some days, it’s almost painful to look directly at them without wanting to giggle and kick my legs, happy-drunk on my own luck. It makes absolutely no sense how I even got here. A year ago, I was standing over my kitchen sink, slurping ramen from a cup, alone in a single bedroom shithole. I didn’t have a soul alive who would care if I lived or died and my bags were always packed.
My bag is currently stuffed at the back of the closet.
Empty.
“Hey, baby.” Dom shoves his coat off and stuffs it down on the hook by the door.
Nick kicks his shoes off and drops his briefcase next to it. In three long strides, I’m swept up into his arms. His cold nose brushes my neck and I squeal.
“We should go away somewhere,” he breathes into my skin. “Somewhere we can get you in a bikini.”
My laugh rumbles up from my chest, momentarily unclenching the weight there as I cling to him.
“He’s had a lot of fantasies of you in that yellow two piece,” Dom teases, kicking the door shut and ambling towards us. “I jerked him off against the patio doors while we watched you sunbathe.”
“Those tiny fucking triangles barely covering your tits…” Nick growls against my pulse. “Your pussy.”
My giggles dissolve into a low moan as Dom rounds behind me and slips his surprisingly warm fingers beneath my top... straight to my breasts. Over the lace cups. They’re dragged down and my nipples are caught between his index and thumbs.
He pinches and tugs in that way that usually floods my core, but I flinch at the sharp sting.
“Gentle,” I pant. “They’re a little sensitive.”
His hold immediately loosens. “Were we too rough with them last night?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I think I need new bras. Mine have been a bit tight lately.”
Truthfully, everything feels tight and uncomfortable. Every outfit I pull on sits weird, or the fabric itches my skin. Tights and sweaters seem to be the only things I can wear that don’t drive me crazy.
But Dom softens his touch, rubbing the underside where the wire bites flesh. It feels nice, especially when he palms the mounds and lifts them.
Nick is sucking across my neck, paving a hot trail up my throat to my mouth.
His hands hook into the elastic waistband of my tights and he shoves the material down my hips. Dom follows suit by tearing my top off. My bra follows the wool to the floor. His strong arms band around my middle and I’m drawn down into his lap in the armchair. My tights are torn free by Nick and cast over his shoulder. Then, fully dressed with his coat still buttoned up, Nick drops between the knees Dom pulls open for him and dives between them.
The first sweep of his tongue has my toes curling. My breath hitches and I breathe a moan into Dom’s mouth as he cradles my breasts. Runs his thumbs over the peak.
“You taste different.”
The sweet haze evaporates with Nick’s quiet murmur.
My head jerks up and I peer down to where he’s still licking as if testing the change.
“What?” I blurt, mortification crawling up my cheeks. “What do you mean?”
His hands close around my hips, stilling my attempts to get free.
