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“I... I'd like that,” I said, my own voice sounding distant and breathy to my ears.
Jaxon pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. Even in the dim light, I could see a smile tugging at his mouth.
Beside him, Colton stood silent, though his intense stare spoke volumes. He seemed pleased by my answer too, a new energy simmering just under his composed exterior.
I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue, watching as both their gazes tracked the movement. The air between us felt charged, electrified by unspoken desires.
Jaxon moved first, slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wished. But I remained motionless, anchored in place by his hypnotic eyes.
His hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face up toward his. I let my eyes flutter closed as his lips met mine.
The kiss started soft, exploratory, before deepening. My lips parted and I tasted him, rich espresso and something uniquely masculine, indescribably addictive. I pressed myself closer, suddenly desperate for more contact.
Jaxon obliged, his free arm encircling my waist, his hand splayed against the small of my back. Our bodies molded together as the kiss continued. I was drowning in sensation, my focus narrowing to just the feel of his mouth on mine, his firm muscles flexing under my palms.
My lungs burned for air but I didn't want to break the connection. When Jaxon finally pulled back, I swayed on my feet, dizzy and disoriented.
My hazy mind barely registered Colton moving closer until I felt his hand tilt my chin up. Our eyes met for a brief moment before his lips claimed mine.
If Jaxon's kiss was exploratory, Colton's was consuming. His mouth moved over mine with surety, as though staking a claim. My hands curled into the front of his shirt, anchoring myself against the onslaught of dizzying pleasure.
Colton kissed me thoroughly, leaving no part of my lips untouched. I clung to him, lost in his commanding presence.
Too soon, he withdrew, steadying me with his hands on my hips when I stumbled. I blinked slowly, trying to reorient myself in a world that no longer felt quite real.
Both brothers regarded me intently as I attempted to gather the fraying edges of my composure. Their eyes shone with undisguised want, but they made no move to resume our heated encounters.
“Good night, Delcy,” Jaxon said, his voice a delicious caress. “Sweet dreams.”
Colton echoed the sentiment, his deep baritone resonating through me.
I whispered a faint good night in return, watching almost numbly as they made their way back to the car idling at the curb.
My lips still tingled from their kisses. I pressed my fingertips to them, half convinced I had imagined the entire dizzying experience. But the lingering ache inside me was real—a hunger awoken that refused to be ignored.
I slipped inside my apartment on unsteady legs, leaning back against the closed door as I struggled to process the torrent of emotions swirling within me. Confusion, exhilaration, longing... Never had a simple goodnight kiss affected me so deeply.
With a shaky laugh, I pushed off the door and made my way to the bedroom on wobbly knees. My mind replayed every detail of those kisses—the taste, the feel, the way they had utterly consumed me.
As I readied for bed, anticipation simmered within me. Our first date was over, but I sensed it was merely the beginning of something far more dangerous and unpredictable.
Whatever was developing between us, it frightened me as much as it thrilled me. But as sleep claimed me that night, my dreams were filled with Jaxon's playful smile and Colton's searing gaze. And I found myself eager to explore this intoxicating new territory with them both.
The dawn light filtered through my blinds, painting soft stripes across the room. I lay in bed, restless, the sheets twisted around my legs—a physical testament to a night spent tossing and turning. My mind replayed the events of the evening before, as if by revisiting them I might find some clue as to whether they were real or spun from my own fervent imagination.
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and there it was—Jaxon's jacket draped over the chair, tangible proof that last night wasn't just a dream. I had forgotten to give it back to him, just like I had done with Colton's before. I reached out and ran my fingers over the fabric. It was smooth and undoubtedly expensive. The scent of his cologne clung to it, a mix of woodsy notes and something uniquely him that made my heart skip.
I touched my lips with the tips of my fingers, remembering their kisses—first Jaxon's, playful and testing the waters, then Colton's, firm and demanding. Heat bloomed in my cheeks and spread through me like wildfire. It was baffling—they were alphas of high society, used to luxury and opulence. And me? Delcy Charlton, an omega who grew up with nothing but hand-me-downs and thrift store finds.
Would they have noticed me if I hadn't been at that gallery event? Would they have seen beyond the barista apron to the girl with dreams as vast as the ocean but with pockets as shallow as puddles? In their world of extravagance and wealth, I was a mere speck—a footnote in their grand narrative.
I pushed these thoughts aside as I climbed out of bed. There was no use pondering what-ifs when reality demanded attention. So I got ready for the day ahead. There were groceries to buy and Grandpa Sid to visit.
* * *
Monday arrived with its usual flurry of activity at Brewed Dreams. The hum of conversation blended with the whirr of coffee machines and the clink of porcelain on wood. The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air, a scent that became as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
Customers flowed in and out in waves—some in a hurry, others lingering over their drinks. I slid from table to table with practiced ease, taking orders and serving up smiles along with lattes and cappuccinos.
