Page 92 of Finders Reapers

“Are you serious, love?” Jamal blinked, taken aback. He took in my pink cheeks and my inability to meet his eyes. I saw his lips soften as he loosened a breath. Jamal stepped closer, and using the same hand he had used to push my hair away from my face, he used his knuckle to lift my chin. “Of course, you’re likable, love.” He assured me.

I licked my bottom lip. “Do you like me?”

Jamal seemed in pain. He said nothing.

“What about if it's just one night?” I tilted my head, my words an inaudible whisper.

The coffee machine blinked, and I closed my eyes, reeling with embarrassment.

Jamal didn’t move. I could still feel the heat of his body near mine. His arm on the counter, brushing against mine.

I opened my eyes again when Fletcher approached, holding a latte. He didn't show it if he was bothered by how close Jamal and I were.

Fletcher placed his coffee on the counter and stepped up to my other side without a word. Neither man stood between my legs, but rather, on either side of me, like an angel and a devil on each shoulder. Though I couldn’t decide which.

“Is this—” I didn’t get to finish my thought. Fletcher reached forward, his hand tangled in my hair, and his lips pressed against mine as he pulled me towards him, catching me and easing my feet to the ground as I slid off the counter.

I felt Jamal at my back, his body pressed against my spine. My head tilted to the side as I fell deeper into Fletcher’s kiss. Soft tips and a tequila tongue.

Jamal eased my hair off my shoulder, and the skin of my throat was exposed to the open air for only a second before he pressed a kiss to the seam of my jaw.

I felt how hard Jamal was. His crotch pressed against the small of my back.

My hand tangled in the fabric of Fletcher’s soft band t-shirt.

The sensation was back. Electricity. Falling. Spinning. I felt high but charged at the same time.

I wondered if that was why they were kissing me. To feel the same feeling that I could—that divine reach for something more that echoed through my body the moment my skin touched theirs.

We stumbled over each other, never breaking contact, as we traveled from the kitchen to the pull-out sofa.

Jamal sat down first, easing my ass onto his lap, and Fletcher never stopped kissing me—positioning my head with his fist tangled in my hair. Dominating my lips and consuming me.

Our lips broke, and I gasped for air. Jamal pressed another kiss to the seam of my jaw, and I felt his smile. His hand dipped under my shirt, and my stomach clenched as Jamal’s fingers brushed against my bare stomach. I gave him a look, and he gave me a mischievous grin in return.

I didn’t resist as my shirt was pulled over my head and tossed. Jamal took advantage of the moment to sit up and lift my bum until I was straddling him, rubbing against his crotch like a dog in heat.

If Fletcher had any objections, he did not show it, as Jamal took my lips and kissed me until my head swam.

Jamal’s kisses were different than Fletcher’s—Fletcher’s kisses were hard and demanding. Jamal’s were like a blooming flower.

Jamal eased back onto the pull-out until his back was flat, and I hovered over him, joined only by our lips and the crotch of our jeans.

Fletcher climbed onto the bed, easing his own shirt over his head. I blinked, taken aback by his lean but chiseled torso, leading to a muscular V that made my core shiver and my breath escape.

Jamal chuckled when he saw where my attention had been pulled.

I had never been with two men before—though I supposed that I, like almost every woman in existence, had watched pornography of that genre for ‘research purposes.’ I didn’t say a word, not even to ask what was happening and why. Jamal and Fletcher seemed perfectly in sync. They knew where they wanted me, and I was content to go along for the ride.

I shucked off my jeans, refusing to pay attention to how awkward I looked as I contorted on the bed and removed my clothes. No one laughed, which was nice, and in no time at all, all three of us were naked, and I was faced with two very erect penises.

“Oh boy,” I whispered, unsure if it was awe or trepidation that forced my words.

Jamal and Fletcher both grinned and exchanged a glance. Before I could ask what that glance meant, Fletcher gripped my calf muscles and tugged me towards him. I fell on my back with a squeak, and my ass bounced against the couch. Fletcher dived between my legs and showered my inner thighs with kisses. My eyes rolled to the ceiling as I squirmed, feeling Fletcher’s fingers tighten their grip on my ass as he brought his mouth to my core, blowing a warm breath on my center that teased and highlighted just how wet I was.

I squirmed as Fletcher ran his tongue in a stripe until it circled my clit, and I pressed my thighs together against his ears. I pressed my knuckle to my mouth to muffle my cries and turned my head to the side—my eyes met Jamal’s heated gaze as he watched Fletcher lick me. Slow. Teasing. Hungry.

My nipples hardened. Begging to be touched.