“I’ll do the dishes if you two want to … uh … you know … do whatever,” Sam told them when Logan finally pushed his empty plate away.
His hazel eyes slid over to her, twinkled with amusement. “If we want todowhatever?”
Well, she couldn’t very well tell them they were welcome to do whatever it was that was causing this insane heat to churn in the room. It was like a cloud that drifted overhead, clinging to everything as the tension rose.
It was killing her to keep her lips tightly sealed, but she was proud of herself. She’d made it through the entire meal without bringing up their kiss in the kitchen. While she’d mentally examined every detail, replaying it again and again, she’d refrained from asking them what it meant, where this was headed. She was nothing if not curious, and rarely could she bite her tongue, but somehow she managed.
Admittedly, she was quickly losing her grip on her tenuous control. She wanted them to make good on the promise she could see in their seductive glances, damn it.
“I’m not sure whatwhateveris, exactly,” Logan told her, “but I won’t argue with you doing the dishes.”
Of course he wouldn’t.
Without preamble, Elijah got up, began taking their plates to the counter. When he returned for more, Logan stopped him with a hand on his arm.
Sam’s gaze shot to where they were touching as though expecting Logan to strip Elijah down simply because they were.
“She volunteered, Eli,” Logan said firmly, still watching her. “Go on, baby.”
Sam fully intended to stand, to pick up where Elijah left off, get the kitchen cleaned in record time, but her gaze remained locked on the spot where Logan was touching Elijah’s arm. Was it her imagination, or were Logan’s fingers moving over the crisp dark hair there? Caressing him?
She had no idea how to explain this insane desire that their intimacy spurred. Whenever shethoughtabout them together, it was like someone had taken a flame to heat coils inside her veins. She’d thought about it so much that she’d begun to wonder if it was abnormal to have erotic thoughts about two men together. And yes, in her fantasies, she was always right there with them, observing every delicious touch, every kiss, every—
“Sam?”
She jerked herself out of her thoughts, her refocused eyes homing in on Logan’s face. “Yeah?”
“Dishes.”
With a dramatic huff, she got to her feet, began clearing the rest of the dishes from the table. While the two of them sat at the table, chatting about mundane crap like work, she completed her chore. Didn’t they know she’d volunteered so they could get some alone time? After that kiss they’d shared, weren’t they raring to go, eager to do … well, whatever they were wanting to do?
God, she knew she was overthinking this, and if she had to guess, Logan was punishing her for it. He should’ve been impressed that she’d managed to keep her mouth shut all through dinner.
She quickly washed her hands, dried them with a towel, then turned back to see they were both staring at her.
Uh-oh. She knew that look, that heated gleam in Logan’s eyes. It was a prelude to something raunchy he was intending to do to her.
Thank God.
She considered faking a yawn, telling them she was going to bed early, but she knew better. Logan was a smart man, and he’d long ago figured out her game. On only the rarest of occasions could she slip something by him, but based on the hunger in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take his chances, which meant she was resigned to whatever he wanted.
Yes, her core was tingling, and yes, she knew she was already wet, her body preparing for their delicious assault. She couldn’t help it. There was something about being the center of their attention that just did it for her.
“It’s my understanding you’ve been complaining about too much sex,” Elijah prompted.
Sam’s gaze darted to him. She frowned, feigned ignorance. “I’ve done no such thing.”
His dark eyebrows popped. “No?” He glanced at Logan. “You lied?”
Logan chuckled gruffly. “I never lie.”
No, he never did. Which meant she’d just put herself in the hot seat.
“I think we need to see just how much she can take,” Elijah suggested.
A trickle of erotic fear coalesced with the anticipation fizzing in her veins. That was another thing she loved about them: she never knew what they’d cook up for her. She loved the spontaneity of their intimate encounters, the creativity of their actions. Even those moments when one of them made love to her were sinfully erotic because she never knew what to expect.
“You can start by going into the bedroom, stripping, and getting your blindfold. Put it on and lie down on the bed.” Elijah lifted one eyebrow. “On top of the blankets. On your back.”
