Page 108 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I stop in front of Wayne first, close enough that I have to tilt my head to look up at him. His eyes are dark, searching my face, asking a hundred silent questions at once.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

He answers by leaning down and kissing me.

The contact is firm, possessive, an unmistakable claim. I taste the faint tang of whiskey and mint on his lips. I don’t pull back. My hand snakes up, fingers tangling in the thick sweep of his hair at the nape of his neck.

He deepens the kiss, slow and demanding, as if gauging how far I’ll go. My lungs burn, every nerve alight with his heat. When he finally lifts his head, his dark eyes rake over me with unspoken intensity.

“I really think you’ll like this,” he murmurs. “But if not, let us know.”

I close the gap between us again before he can react, and I draw him into another kiss. Harder, more desperate. The rest of the world dissolves to a blur of soft upholstery and the taste of him on my tongue.

A brush of fingertips on my shoulder announces Fletcher. He’s warm and calculated as he bends, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my neck. His lips are feather light, teasing, and his hands map the small of my back, coaxing a shiver from my spine.

My head tilts back, exposing the pulse at my throat. A moan escapes me. I clench his shirt, wanting more of that slow, sweet pressure.

Then Rex joins us, his chest firm behind me, arms sliding around my waist. His breath fans across my ear as his lips find my jawline, teeth grazing my skin in electric nips. His fingertips explore the curve of my hip, pulling me flush against him. A wave of warmth spreads through me.

All at once, their touches converge, Wayne’s hands roaming over my waist, thumbs pressing into the sides of my ribs, Fletcher’s lips trailing down to my collarbone, Rex’s warm breath fluttering across my shoulder.

I’m surrounded by their different rhythms. Wayne’s sure, solid heat, Fletcher, tender yet insistent, Rex’s measured patience building tension like a coil. My senses spin.

“Still good?” Rex’s words are a low rumble against my skin.

I press back into him, eyes fluttering shut. “More than good.”

Wayne’s lips brush my ear. “That’s what we like to hear.”

Fletcher’s teasing hand moves beneath my leggings, his hand gliding up my thigh, fingers flicking lightly at the seam of my underwear.

“Can I take these off?” he asks huskily.

I inhale sharply. “Please.”

Rex peels my shirt off in slow tugs, letting the fabric slide over my shoulders. My naked skin prickles under his dark, hungry gaze.

“Damn,” he breathes. “You don’t even know what you do to us, darlin’.”

Wayne shifts behind me, palms cupping me through my bra. His thumbs brush over the already stiff peaks of my nipples, sending an electric jolt through my chest.

He murmurs, “I’ve thought about this for weeks. I think we all have.”

“You want to be our good girl, don’t you?” Fletcher purrs. “Let us take care of you.”

My reply is a trembling nod. Everything inside me is humming with need. Rex lifts my chin with one finger, tilting my face toward his.

“Say it, darlin’. We need to hear it.”

“I want all of you. Together. However you want me.”

Silence crackles for a heartbeat, then Wayne’s lips press to my neck as he unclasps my bra. It falls away, and a shiver ripples across my back at the rush of cool air.

Fletcher’s deft fingers slip between my thighs, stroking me with slow precision. Heat floods my veins, my hips pushing instinctively toward his touch.

Rex’s mouth claims mine in a greedy kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the other sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me flush against him.

Each man works in tandem: Wayne’s cock presses through his jeans at my lower back, a solid reminder of his intent; Fletcher’s tongue teases at the slick seam of my wetness; Rex’s hands roam, mapping my curves with powerful worship.