“Do you want to take this further?” I asked, my fingers pausing their exploration. “Because we want you, Aims. But only if you want this too.”
She blinked, something uncertain crossing her features even as desire flushed her cheeks. “It would be stupid,” she said, her voice breathy. “People make impulsive, high-risk decisions after traumatic experiences to try to gain a sense of control. It’s textbook psychology.”
Rhett’s laughter rumbled against her back, his arms tightening around her waist. “Good thing we’re not high risk at all.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “We’re Rhett and Troy, the most low-risk guys you know.”
“Plus,” I added, tracing my thumb across her lower lip, “you’ve known us for ages. This isn’t exactly a stranger in a bar.”
Aimee looked between us, her expression thoughtful despite the desire evident in her flushed skin and rapid breathing. I could practically see her brilliant mind working, weighing options,considering consequences. I watched the decision settle in her eyes—a surrender, a leap of faith.
“You know what?” A slow smile spread across her face. “Fuck it. Sure.”
My heart nearly stopped. Those three simple words—"Fuck it. Sure"—might have been the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. I glanced at Rhett over her shoulder, seeing my own shock and arousal mirrored in his expression.
“Wait,” I said, needing to be absolutely certain. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Aimee’s smile turned wicked as she reached out, one hand sliding up my chest while the other reached back to tangle in Rhett’s hair. “I’m saying take me to bed, firefighters.”
Chapter 14
Aimee
TroyandRhettledme down the hallway toward Rhett’s bedroom, their hands never leaving my body for more than a second. Troy’s fingers trailed along my lower back while Rhett’s palm cupped my hip, both touches possessive yet tentative, like they couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t either. The words “take me to bed” were still hanging in the air between us, my own voice sounding strange and distant in my memory. A voice in the back of my mind asked if I was making a huge mistake, but it was nearly impossible to focus on that voice with Troy’s hands on my hips and Rhett’s lips on my throat.
We tumbled through the doorway, a tangle of limbs and nervous laughter, when Rhett yelped. “Olive! Cheeto!” He dropped to his knees next to a discarded t-shirt. “Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to trip on you guys. Please be okay.”
I peered around him to see two tiny balls of fur curled together on the floor—one orange, one gray—undisturbed. They didn’t even twitch.
“They’re fine,” Troy said, crouching beside Rhett. “Look, they’re still sleeping.”
“Are you sure?” Rhett’s voice cracked with worry. “What if I hurt them?”
Troy gently scooped up both sleeping kittens, cradling them against his bare chest. “Baby, they’re fine. Look—Cheeto’s purring.” He carried the bundle of cats and fabric to a plush cat bed in the corner of the room.
Rhett scrambled after him, kneeling beside the bed to watch the kittens with anxious eyes. Olive stretched in her sleep, one tiny paw reaching out to rest on her brother’s belly, before settling back into her dreams. Neither showed any sign of distress.
Troy placed a hand on Rhett’s shoulder. “See? Sound asleep.”
Rhett let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Sorry. I thought I’d crushed them or something.”
“You’re too careful with them for that,” Troy said, running his fingers through Rhett’s hair.
Rhett stood, turning to face me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Kitten panic attack. Where were we?”
“You were about to make good on that spit roasting fantasy.” The words were impulsive, slipping out before I could stop them.
They turned to me simultaneously, identical expressions of heat and hunger flooding their faces. The air in the room seemed to thicken as they approached, predatory intent in every step. And that voice in the back of my head vanished. If I was going to have a wild threesome with anyone, it might as well be with the two sweetest, sexiest men I knew. Men who showed their care and tenderness in a million small ways every day.
“What do you want us to do to you?” Troy asked, his voice dropping to that low register that made my knees weak. “Be explicit.”
“I think,” I said, reaching up to trace my fingers along Troy’s jaw, “I want you to show me what it’s like to be fucked by two firefighters at once.”
“Mm, happy to oblige.”
His large hands slid under the borrowed t-shirt I wore, calloused fingertips tracing up my sides with agonizing slowness. Meanwhile, Troy’s mouth found mine, swallowing my gasp as his tongue slipped past my lips, claiming me with a kiss that left no doubt about who was in charge.
I was drowning in sensation—the scratch of Rhett’s stubble against my neck, the heat of Troy’s mouth on mine, the weight of bodies pressing me from both sides. It was overwhelming in thebest possible way, my brain struggling to process all the input as four hands began roaming my body with increasing urgency.
“It’s been so fucking long,” I gasped as Troy’s mouth moved to my throat, nipping and sucking while Rhett’s hands found my breasts beneath the shirt. “Oh god.”
