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“The man speaks the truth,” Madden chimes in, clapping Tristan on the back and flashing that dimpled smile that makes it hard for me to focus. His blue eyes twinkle with the exuberance that’s never far away, seemingly enjoying this moment to the max, just like he does with every situation I’ve seen him in.
I take a sip of my champagne as I glance back and forth at them. It’s a good thing I’m not actually going to have to choose between these two—if I can hold out until the end, that is—because I don’t know how I could. They’re so very different, but both so perfect in their own ways.
Setting his glass aside, Tristan plucks one of the roses from the vase in the center of the table and trails it across my shoulder and down my arm, sending a shiver through my body.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his low voice drawing my gaze back to those captivating eyes.
Unable to stop it, I feel a blush steal across my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me, like he’s starving and I’m his favorite meal, makes my breath come faster. He lifts the rose to my face and brushes it lightly across my lips, making them part on a soft sigh.
Oh my god, Tristan is too much. Somehow, at the same time I want to both back away from him and drag him closer and replace that rose with his mouth.
“Gorgeous doesn’t begin to cut it, asshole,” Madden says, snatching the rose from Tristan and running it down my throat, continuing the path until the silky petals are teasing the tops of my breasts that are now practically heaving. I’m pretty sure my panties are totally soaked, too.
Madden leans in, biting the tip of his tongue as his eyes follow the rose, then snap back up to my face. He waggles his eyebrows and winks. “I’d say hot as fuck is a better description.”
I laugh. He’s just as over the top as Tristan is intense.
“Dessert?” Tristan asks, lifting a bite of decadent cheesecake to my lips.
My eyes flick back to him, my lips parting involuntarily as I get sucked back into his gaze. I watch him as my mouth closes over the fork. His desire is evident in the way he watches me. I feel my pussy clench in response, and a moan escapes my mouth as the dessert practically melts on my tongue.
One side of Tristan’s mouth quirks up in a smile so seductive I’m starting to forget I need to watch myself.
Madden reaches up and brushes a finger across my lips. “I bet that tastes good.” The gleam in his eyes makes it clear that he isn’t talking about the cheesecake at all. Yeah. I’m going to need to change my panties.
Goddamn. If these two are going to up their game like this, I’m going to have to build up my defenses a bit more. Another week of this might have me begging for them to take me—at the same fucking time.
> No bueno. I need to take over the reins here and get back in control. This is my game to win.
“So,” I say, biting my lip as I glance back and forth between the two of them, “I have an idea. I think it’s time the three of us play a game and get a bit more personal. Who wants to play?”
The smiles they give me tells me they have no clue what I’m thinking.
“I’m game,” Madden says. “Always.”
“Bring it,” Tristan says, narrowing his eyes at Madden.
Well, well. The dick measuring contest has already begun, and I haven’t even started.
I grin. “Stand up and take your shirts off.”
I can tell they’re totally thrown off by that. Tristan blinks for a minute, then Madden lets out a whoop.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” He stands up and unbuttons his elegant Hermes dress shirt, flashing me his trademark cocky grin. “I sure have nothing to hide.”
Tristan scoffs. “Well, neither do I.” Reaching for his own buttons, he stands and strips as well.
Hell fucking yeah.
These two are so ripped it’s ridiculous. Thick, sinewy muscle and taut, tanned skin is on full display, and I realize I can have some fun here. I may be hanging on to my v-card with a death grip, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look all I want. Hell, there’s nothing to say I can’t touch either. I’ve been a good girl for weeks and weeks. Resisted all temptation, even in the face of gorgeous men competing to make me feel good.
I totally deserve this. Tristan and Madden are probably the most alpha males we had in the house, yet right now they both have one goal—to win me. Which means they’re a little at my mercy.
I grin as I stand up and walk around them slowly, allowing myself to really look at them. I take my time doing it, and when my eyes drop down, it’s obvious that my perusal has them both rock hard.
My breath hitches in response to seeing those bulges, and I swallow hard.
“So, this game?” I say, stopping in front of Madden first since he was so eager to strip down. I trail my fingers over his wide, strong shoulders and down his broad chest. It’s covered in a black tribal tattoo that spreads across and winds down his arms. I’ve seen it plenty of times already—out by the pool, when he works out, or when he walks around without a shirt just for the hell of it. But seeing him this close, touching him, does something to me. My tongue darts out involuntarily to moisten my lips, and my eyes dart up to Madden’s. He gives me a knowing smirk.
