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“I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Rhys enters behind Dante. He wears a black sweater with the sleeves pushed to his elbows, revealing the strong forearms that have appeared in several of my favorite fantasies.
His attention travels over the scene. Callum standing between my knees ready to feast. Dante wearing mistletoe in his pants. Me sitting on the island with my dress riding dangerously high. Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I left for twelve minutes.”
“You missed me?” I ask.
“Desperately.”
He walks toward me. Callum moves aside without being asked. That small act still matters. A year ago, sharing me challenged every possessive instinct inside him. Now he understands that making room for Rhys or Dante doesn’t mean losing his own place. Rhys stops in front of me.
“What have you eaten today?”
I stare at him.
“Is that your idea of dirty talk?”
“Answer.”
“Coffee.”
“That isn’t food.”
“I had toast.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Rhys looks over his shoulder.
“Callum.”
“Stew is almost done.”
“Feed her.”
Dante opens a drawer.
“I have candy canes.”
“No,” Rhys and Callum answer together.
I wrap my legs around Rhys’s waist.
“I’m not hungry for stew.”
His hands settle against my thighs.
“What do you want?”
I lean closer.
“You.”
