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He doesn’t answer. Only gives me a hint of a smile and wink.
Steffan nudges me with his foot. “You sing at church?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m tired of the garbage on the TV. Why don’t you sing for us?”
Panic and embarrassment shoots through me. “What? No, no, no.”
“Come on,” Steffan encourages, but I’m not having it.
Soren speaks up. “Little Mouse, truth or dare.”
“Truth,” I answer quickly since I already know what the dare might be.
Soren’s knowing smirk has me wondering if I should’ve sang like a canary instead. “Remember, you have to tell the truth.”
I nod.
“Whose dick do you enjoy more?”
My jaw drops. “That’s not fair.”
“Be honest or suffer the consequences,” Soren reminds me.
“Depends on my mood…”
“What?” Steffan sounds baffled.
“If I want passion and heat…Steffan. If I want possessive yet tender, then Soren.”
“Tender and Soren do not belong in the same sentence,” Steffan announces.
“You’d be surprised. There’s a tenderness… and…” I have to pause and catch my breath. When I cut my eyes to Soren, his are burning with desire. He knows what I’m trying to say. “I don’t have to explain it. It depends on my mood. Okay, Steffan, truth or dare?”
Steffan leans forward and meets my eyes. “Dare.”
I look down and focus on my needle and thread. “I dareyouto sing.”
Both the brothers practically fall over with laughter. Soren shakes his head. “You can do better.”
“Fine. You give him a dare,” I huff out.
“I will.” Soren immediately gets serious. “Steffan, our little church mouse wants you to sing. So sing her a hymn, but strip as you do it.”
“I only know two. ‘I’ve Got the Joy Joy Joy Down in My Heart’ or ‘In the Garden’.” He stands up, and his height makes the room feels smaller.
“Oh, I love ‘In the Garden’,” I say, but Soren speaks up. “But it has to be the Joy Joy one.”
“That’s messed up, Sor. It’s a children’s song.”
“Either way we do this, it’s going to be some weird kinky Christian shit…and it’s going to be great seeing you strip down to your birthday suit while singing a kids’ song.” Soren’s smile spreads as he says, “Show us where you keep all your joy, Steffan.”
Steffan begins pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants. I’m shocked to find he has a beautiful singing voice, even if it is odd to hear him singing about his joy. He loses his composure, however, when Soren shouts, “Where is that joy, you say?”
“Down in my heart, asshole.” Steffan throws his shirt at him.
“This is so wrong.” I giggle. But I don’t want Steffan to stop. I love seeing this playful side of him and Soren. I also enjoy seeing those delicious ab muscles tightening as he moves and sings. But when he goes to unbutton his pants and I catch a glimpse of his happy trail, I’m no longer listening to the lyrics. Only the seductive way his voice has deepened. He isn’t dancing any longer, but his moves are so calculated with the tempo as he unbuttons and lowers the zipper to his slacks that I’m transfixed. When he is left in only his boxers, he bends down until he is on all fours. Then he crawls toward me. His hand lands on my heart as he sings, and then lowers as he sings, “down in my heart,” and Soren asks again, but in a lower taunting voice, “Where?” Steffan answers by sliding his hand lower, “down…down…down” he kisses me and whispers against my lips, “to stay…” He ends the song by kissing me deeper this time and cupping me.