“Be coy. It’s fine.” Shane rips the fluffy white towel I’m wrapped in away from my body, then crowds me against the cream-colored marble vanity with Chase hot on his heels. “We definitely like what we see.” His fingertips roam up over my stomach, lightly brushing the underside of my breasts until my skin prickles and my nipples harden.
Mmm.
Chase shadows Shane, trailing his lips over the curve of his shoulder as he watches the show.
I pant shallowly as the soft caress of Shane’s hands reawaken desirous feelings. I could get lost so quickly, but the rumbling of Chase’s stomach veers the direction we’re headed. All three of us laugh. A rhythmic sound ringing through the room.
“You know I can help you out with that, Chase.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I echo. “Mind if I snoop through your refrigerator?”
“Not one bit.” He grins, his stomach rumbling even louder this time. “As long as you’re naked.”
I squint up at him. Cooking naked in the kitchen? Might be hazardous. “I’ll compromise. I’ll wear one of your t-shirts and nothing underneath.”
Shane and Chase exchange a decisive look.
“Deal.”
Once donned in one of Chase’s white undershirts, I explore the kitchen to see what I can whip up for breakfast. My tummy grumbles. Chase isn’t the only one who’s starving. Those two can seriously make a girl work up an appetite.
I peruse the pantry, spotting some pancake mix. Perfect. Pilfering the cabinets for a griddle or frying pan, I come across something way better. My face splits into a grin as I haul out the waffle maker.
Setting it down on the island and plugging it in, I move to the refrigerator for eggs and milk, and discover a few more goodies. Strawberries and whipped cream. I’m actually giddy as I plan out the perfect breakfast creation.
Finding two other ingredients I need, a whisk, mixing bowl and measuring cups, the boys emerge from the bedroom at the perfect time.
“Want to help?” I ask as I scoop out the first cup of mix.
Like children, they grin and my heart skips a beat.
“Can you combine some cinnamon and sugar in a bowl?” I direct them as I pour in the milk.
Together they move around the airy kitchen, Shane pulling out a bowl, Chase opening the bag of sugar.
“How much?” They both look to me for instruction.
“About five cups,” I whisk the batter.
“And cinnamon?” Shane holds up the spice as Chase pours.
“Two tablespoons?”
“Is that a question?” He looks at me unsurely.
“Yes and no.” I giggle. “I sort of just eyeball it.”
“Well, you’re dealing with an amateur chef, so can you please be specific?”
“Two tablespoons.” I make it easy on him.
He nods seriously as he meticulously shakes the brick-colored powder on top of the sugar.
Chase snickers.
“Don’t.” Shane chides him.
