Page 41 of Seven Lost Summers (Broken Oasis #3)

Quinn

T

heo

and

Nate

move

around the kitchen, clearing plates, stacking dishes, wiping down counters.

Every step seems to anticipate the other, their bodies syncing until it comes across less as cleaning and more as some quiet, practiced ritual.

Nate reaches for the dish towel at the exact second Theo passes it over without even glancing.

Seamless. A rhythm built over years of knowing each other’s every move.

I sit on the couch, beer sweating against my palm, one leg hooked over the other. From the outside I probably look relaxed, bored even.

Except my body is wound so fucking tight it hurts to breathe. I’m staring.

My beer’s gone warm in my hand and I don’t even care. My eyes keep finding Nate.

He’s locked in that quiet focus he slips into when he’s working. Shoulders squared, forearms flexing each time his grip tightens on something. His shirt sticks to the shape of his back, the fabric damp near the collar from the heat spilling through the open doors.

Theo’s beside him, humming under his breath the way he always does when he disappears into the task. His hair falls into his eyes, and I catch the way he pushes it back with his fingers. Then he reaches up to slide a bowl onto the top shelf, that narrow line of muscle vanishing into his jeans.

Every detail pulls me further under.

I tell myself to look away, but my eyes won’t obey.

Nate leans in behind him, saying something I can’t catch. Whatever it is makes Theo grin. The easy way they shift around each other, all that history folded into muscle memory, is too much.

If they turned right now, if either of them caught me staring, I wouldn’t even have an excuse.

I take a sip of my beer to cover the way my pulse is thundering.

My breath goes shallow as my mind drifts where it shouldn’t, slipping straight into places I’ve been trying to avoid since I got here.

What would it be to stand in that space between them, pressed into their bodies while they moved around me with that same effortless rhythm?

Hands, mouths, cocks working me open until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

Heat crawls over my skin, wrong as hell but so fucking good I can’t swallow it down.

Theo slides another plate into the dishwasher, water dripping down his wrist as he murmurs something to Nate. Mid-laugh, Theo glances up and catches me staring.

The grin spreads slow across his face, and my stomach drops.

His gaze holds mine, and it tells me he knows exactly where my heads at.

I drag my eyes to the beer in my hand, desperate for a distraction, but his stare pins me in place. My chest hammers, breath shallow, every beat too loud in my ears.

I curse under my breath.

Get your shit together, Quinn. Stop being pathetic.

You’re here to capture the band. Do the job. Not to sit here stripping them bare in your head while they rinse out the fucking sink.

Because if he knew… if either of them knew, that I’ve been imagining both of them pinning me down, cocks hard, mouths on my skin, he’d either laugh his ass off or drag me in there and fuck me until I couldn’t walk.

I tip back the last of my beer and push to my feet, clinging to some illusion of control.

“I think I might call it a night,” I say, trying for breezy but landing somewhere between shaky and strained.

Nate’s mouth curves, subtle but knowing. “What? Q, you don’t have to go yet. We haven’t even caught up.”

Theo drops the dish towel, eyes cutting to mine with that wicked glint. His mouth hooks into a smirk.

“If you’re heading to bed, we could, you know… keep you company. Warm the sheets. Test the mattress. Strictly quality control, of course.”

Heat slams through me so fast it knocks the breath from my lungs. My heart kicks hard against my ribs, and my mouth moves before my brain catches up.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Please. You’d trip over your own ego before you even made it to the bed.” My gaze lingers on him, lips curving slow. “You honestly think you could handle me in bed, Kade?”

Something sharpens in his eyes. That lazy grin twists into something feral.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dropping low and rough. “I wouldn’t just handle you. I’d ruin you.”

My knees nearly buckle.

Nate hasn’t said a word, but when I glance at him, his face tells me everything. His eyes are darker now, fixed on me with a weight that makes my skin prickle.

Theo moves closer.

One step.

Then another.

Slow. Measured. Each one pulling something tighter inside me until I’m wound so tight I could snap.

He stops just behind me. His body radiates heat, wrapping around my back before he’s even touched me.

My breath falters, my grip on the beer bottle tightening until my knuckles ache.

Theo leans in, mouth grazing the shell of my ear. His voice is low, threaded with something dangerous. “You say I couldn’t handle you. But I see you.”

His breath drifts down my neck, and my body betrays me. “I see the way your thighs press together when I talk to you. The way you squirm when Nate brushes your arm.”

Each word carves into me, heat flooding through my veins. My spine goes rigid, but my body betrays me again, tilting toward him. He hasn’t laid a hand on me, and still I’m trembling, my breaths short and uneven, chest rising in quick bursts as the air between us burns thin.

Behind me, his fingers brush the bare skin of my lower back, and the single touch has every muscle in my body tightening.

My eyes flutter shut.

I should step forward, put distance between us.

But I don’t.

Because some part of me needs to hear what else he has to say.

“I wouldn’t just handle you, Quinn,” Theo murmurs. “I’d have you begging. And I wouldn’t stop until you forgot how to speak.”

My breath snags, breaking into a sound I can’t take back. A soft, desperate noise that betrays me completely.

Then Nate’s voice cuts through the haze, making my pulse spike so hard it hurts.

“He will. We both will.”

My head jerks up.

Nate’s right there. He steps in closer.

The room tilts, my world narrowing to nothing but the two of them closing in.

Theo stays rooted at my back, a wall of heat and muscle that locks me in place while Nate pins me from the front.

The air between us crackles, and my heart hammers against my ribs.

Nate’s fingers slide up, curling around my throat with care. His palm is warm, steady, and the slow drag of his thumb over my pulse makes my legs almost give out.

“She’s shaking,” Nate mutters, the sound scraping through me. “You feel that?”

Theo’s grip on my hip tightens, pulling me back until I’m pressed flush against him. The hard line of his cock digs into my ass, and a broken gasp punches past my lips. The pure fucking intent in the way he holds me makes my mouth go dry.

“Yeah,” he growls against my ear. “She’s soaked. I’d bet my fucking life on it.”

The sound that rips out of me isn’t a word. It’s a desperate whimper that shatters every wall I’ve tried to hold in place.

Nate exhales slowly, his breath warm against my cheek. His hand stays firm on my throat, not squeezing, only holding, claiming. His forehead lowers until it almost touches mine, his eyes burning straight through me.

Theo’s breath drifts over the curve of my neck, hot and steady. His fingers press against my hip, thumb sliding beneath the hem of my shirt, just enough to send a shiver through me.

I am caught between them, trapped and trembling. My body aches with a need so sharp it borders on pain.

For the first time in years, I don’t want to run.

I want to fall.

I want to fucking burn.

Nate kisses me.

It isn’t soft. Nothing about it pretends to be gentle.

His mouth crashes into mine with years of silence burning behind it.

His hand tightens on my neck, holding me there, dragging me into him as if letting go would mean losing me.

It isn’t lips brushing. It’s a storm breaking open, the taste of him flooding my mouth, stealing my breath, tearing apart every piece of control I thought I had.

Theo’s hands slide beneath my shirt, rough fingers carving fire across my skin with every slow drag upward. He finds the edge of my bra and pushes past it, knuckles grazing the curve of my breast.

My back arches into him before I can stop myself, my body betraying me, giving in.

When Nate finally pulls back, his breath lingers at my mouth. His lips are swollen, his eyes dark with something that shatters through my chest.

Theo’s mouth finds the tender spot beneath my ear, and the sound that rips out of me is a broken moan I can’t hold back.

“Fuck, listen to her,” Theo growls against my skin, his breath hot as his thumbs sweep over my nipples, dragging the ache sharper. “She’s already falling apart and we haven’t even started.”

Nate’s hand tightens slightly on my throat, just enough to make my pulse pound against his palm. His eyes lock on mine, steady and dark.

“You hear that?” he murmurs to Theo. “That’s the sound of her needing us.”

He’s not wrong.

My thoughts are gone.

All that remains is Theo’s hands under my shirt, Nate’s mouth crushing into mine, the slow drag of his breath against my lips when he pulls back just enough to speak.

My back arches, a strangled sound ripping out of me the second Theo pinches one nipple.

“Fuck,” Theo whispers against my neck, his voice thick with want. “She’s perfect. So fucking perfect. You can see how hard she’s shaking for us.”

Nate’s lips brush the corner of my mouth. “You want us to ruin you, Q?”

“Yes,” I gasp, the word shattering under the weight of it. “Please.”

Theo’s chuckle rumbles low, dark and sinful against my ear. “Begging already, and we haven’t even gotten our cocks out.”

Nate drags me into another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue pushing against mine until my whole body clenches tight.

Theo’s mouth trails down my neck, teeth scraping before he sucks a mark into the soft skin above my collarbone.

My fingers twist into Nate’s shirt, holding on as they both pull me deeper under.

“Look at you,” Theo murmurs, his voice thick with heat as his hands close around my breasts, thumbs rolling over my nipples until I cry out. “Already wet for us. I can smell it, Quinn. Fucking desperate.”

“You sure you want this, Q?” Nate asks, voice rough and low, every word dripping with tension. His lips trail along my jaw, breath scorching my skin. “Tell us what you want.”

I try to speak, but what escapes is broken, more moan than word.

Theo’s hand leaves my chest and slides down my stomach, fingers skimming the waistband of my shorts. The rough pads trace slow circles at my hips, teasing, making my breath falter.

“You want my cock first, baby? Or do you want Nate to split you open?” Theo whispers, mouth grazing mine. “Want us to stretch your pussy until you forget who you are? Until you scream for us?”

My knees nearly give, a raw sound tearing out of me as his fingers slip just beneath the band, close but not where I need them.

“Answer him,” Nate demands, his hand steady at my throat, his gaze locked on mine.

“Yes,” I choke out, thighs trembling, heat throbbing between them until it’s unbearable. “I want it,” I whisper. “I fucking want you.”

Theo’s teeth catch my earlobe, a low groan vibrating against my skin. “Good girl. We’ll give you everything. We’ll wreck that pretty little cunt.”

Nate crushes his mouth to mine again, rougher this time, his free hand gripping my waist and dragging me tight against him. His cock presses hard against my stomach, heat and promise radiating through the thin space between us.

Theo’s fingers slide lower, brushing over the damp fabric of my panties.

My whole body jerks, a loud, desperate moan tearing free.

“Fuck,” Theo growls into my neck. “Soaked. Just like I said. You want us to fill you up, don’t you? Two cocks stretching you until you can’t take anymore?”

“Yes,” I cry out, the word ripping through me with no shame left to hold it back. “Please. Fuck, yes.”

Nate’s thumb strokes over my pulse, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. “You’re ours now, Q. Every single fucking inch of you.”

Theo presses his thumb to my clit, rubbing tight circles that send fire racing through every nerve.

My body buckles, head falling back against his shoulder as another helpless moan spills out.

“Say it,” Theo whispers at my ear, his tone dark and commanding. “Tell us you’re ours.”

My hips stutter forward, legs shaking, breath catching, and then I’m gone.

“I’m yours,” I breathe. “Both of you. Fuck. I’m yours.”