Page 24

SARA

M y hands shake like leaves as two burly men stare up at me from the sand like I hold all the answers. My words hang between us. A test or an offer—which is it?

Here’s what I want you to do.

“Anything, Sara.” Trent hasn’t taken his hands off Logan. I’m not even sure he knows he’s still touching him. “I’d die for you.”

“I don’t want you to die.” I look from one man to the other. “I want both of you healthy and alive.”

“Okay,” says Logan, a little less wild-eyed than Trent. “Whatever you want?—”

“I want you both in my room right now .” I can’t believe that’s my voice. I sound brazen and bold, like a woman who’s holding a whip in her hand. “You’ve told me this trip is for me. That coming to Crystal Bliss means snapping my fingers and having my fantasies come true.”

“That’s right.” Logan’s voice rattles out raspy. “What’s your fantasy, Sara?”

“The three of us, together.” I drop my gaze to Trent’s hand, the one that’s still resting on Logan’s hip.

There’s an obvious bulge two inches from that, so having me here isn’t throwing cold water on whatever’s between them.

“For real this time,” I continue. “I want you both touching me, and I want to watch you two together.”

“Together,” Trent says, his bare chest rising and falling. “How do you mean?”

Considering how we were raised, it’s jarring how firmly he’s pushing for me to be blunt and outspoken. Declaring our sexual desires has never been our thing. But three days on this island have made me feel powerful and forthright.

“Touch him,” I order, dropping my eyes to his hand again. “Right now. I want to see you stroke his cock.”

A low, strangled sound rolls up Trent’s throat. “Sara?—”

“Now,” I command, hardly believing I’m standing here bossing two big, burly military men. “Stop pretending you don’t want to. And Logan, you want it, too.”

“Yeah.” He draws a breath. “I do.”

I do.

The echo of wedding vows rings in my head and I can’t help but think about how we’re so far from the front of that church where I pictured myself standing next week.

But this is my new vision. And I’m ready to watch it unfold.

“Touch him.” I smile as I watch Trent’s hand start to move. “That’s it. Stroke him through his clothes, just like you were before you knew I was here.”

That’s right, I saw it. I saw what they did and I heard what they said. Five minutes or more, that’s how long I stood here watching and listening as Trent confessed his secrets.

He’s had sex with a man, a fact he omitted from his first-day confession.

Maybe I should be angry, but I’m not. It’s freeing to have things out in the open. Just like Trent said, I want him more now that our secrets aren’t all bottled up like they were.

And just like Camille said, I’m doing my homework to learn what I want .

I want to have sex with more than one person.

I want to be watched and to watch other people.

I want to see two men together. Not just any men. These men.

My men.

I can’t look away as Trent starts exploring. Logan seems to enjoy what he’s doing, gripping his cock through his shorts. Logan leans back on rippling arms, groaning as the heel of Trent’s hand drags the length of him.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, turning his head to look at me. “Come here, Sara.”

It’s my turn to obey, to walk through the sand and stand right in front of them, my floaty blue dress billowing around my ankles. In my haste to get dressed, there’s one major thing I omitted.

As Logan shoves up my hem, he lets out a sigh of approval.

“Fuck, baby.” He buries his face between my legs. “You’re not wearing panties.”

“That’s right.” I’m mesmerized watching Trent’s hand stroking Logan. As Logan’s tongue sweeps through my sopping wet folds, I issue a breathless command. “Shorts down, both of you.” I want to watch what they’re doing. “Touch each other bare.”

Nobody argues. It’s like they’ve been waiting to be told it’s okay. Both of them move, roughly shoving down their boxers. Two cocks spring free, each of them fleshy and hard. I swallow a moan as both of them reach for the other.

“Jesus Christ.” Trent’s gritting his teeth as he watches me ride Logan’s face. “Please, baby.” He sounds like a starving man. “I need to taste you.”

“Stand where we can take turns enjoying you.” Logan grabs my hip with the hand that’s not stroking Trent. “Spread your legs wider, baby.”

I do what he says, then groan as Logan shifts aside to let Trent take his place between my trembling thighs.

Back and forth, they trade off devouring me like a dish of ice cream they’ve decided to share.

They feast on each other and me, tongues playing between my slick folds.

It’s like I’ve unleashed two wild beasts, and neither can drink their fill of me.

I’m squirming and riding one face, then the other, bunching my dress in a fist so I don’t miss the sight of them stroking each other.

“Fuck,” Logan growls between frantic bouts of tonguing my clit. “You grip me like a goddamn K-Bar knife.”

He’s talking to Trent, but I laugh. “It is a lethal weapon.”

Trent strokes him harder, groaning as Logan does likewise. “Sara.” He laps at my pussy, slurping and sucking and making my knees start to buckle. “Come with us. I need you.” He glances at Logan with heat in his eyes. “ We need you.”

Logan just growls, taking his turn with his tongue at my center. “We’re not coming until you do.”

He must know we’re all close, which is wild. Didn’t we all just get off in my room? But here on this beach, it feels like a fresh start. The shush of the waves, the sand on their skin, the heat of their breath at my center.

I give in first, releasing a sharp, hungry cry. I start to go down, but Trent grabs my ass while Logan braces my hip with his shoulder.

“Yes, baby.” Trent plunges his tongue deep inside me. “Give it to me.”

“Oh.” My orgasm hits like a hurricane. “Oh, God.” With the hand that’s not holding my dress, I clutch Logan’s hair.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lashing my clit with his tongue. He lets me come down, then moves to kiss Trent. Their jaws scrape together, raspy and raw and slick with my juices.

I’m blinking the sparks from my vision as I watch Logan’s hand stroking Trent. His eyes blaze with hunger, his fist moving fiercely and sure.

Trent lets out a roar and I marvel at the juicy white ropes spurting out of him like a fountain. “Jesus Christ. ”

I see Logan straining, fighting the urge to come, too. He’s the professional here, and he won’t let go until we’re sated first.

The urge to assist overwhelms me. I drop to my knees in the sand, as much with desire as concern that my legs won’t keep holding me. As Logan’s cock surges, I gather my hair and seal my lips around him I swallow and suck while Trent jerks him off in my mouth.

“Oh my God.”

Someone touches my shoulder and I’m not even sure who it is. I try to sit up, but my ab muscles won’t work anymore.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Trent eases me up, caressing my face as he shifts me to sit on his lap. “That was insane.”

He’s kissing me now, and I’m sure he tastes Logan on my tongue.

We’re way beyond caring, way past the point of concern about sand in uncomfortable places.

Thank God I wore this long dress, since the back of the fabric shields my delicate parts from the grit.

Can’t say the same for these guys, but they don’t seem to care.

“My God.” Logan’s hand glides down my arm. “I’ve done this a long time,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck. “But I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

“Same.” I giggle, since I’m the only one here without much experience. “Ooops.”

“What’s that?” Trent sounds drugged, stroking my hair as he kisses the shell of my ear.

Sighing, I lean into his touch. “Weren’t we supposed to go to my room?”

His chest shakes with laughter. “We were supposed to do a lot of things, Sar.”

Still trailing his fingers up and down my arm, Logan releases a bliss-soaked sigh. “I’m glad you let go of ‘supposed to.’”

Smiling, I lock eyes with Trent. “So am I.”

It isn’t too tough to secure a dinner reservation for a party of three. I don’t even feel weird showing up with two men on my arm. I catch a few people watching as the host guides us out to our table, but no one with judgment. The closest I see might be envy.

A woman looks up from a table where she’s seated between two men of her own. We exchange a knowing smile as the host steers my trio to a spot at the edge of the seawall. Trent pulls out my chair while Logan orders a bottle of white wine and three glasses.

“I’ll be back with your drinks,” says the host, handing out menus to each of us. “Are we interested in any starters tonight?”

Logan touches the back of my hand, which rests at the edge of the appetizer section. “I saw in your profile you love spicy food. Do you like shishito peppers?”

“I do.” I need to stop saying those words like some kind of wannabe bride.

Seeing me squirm, Trent sets a hand on my knee. “Her mom makes these amazing shishitos with a creamy dip. They’re kinda her specialty.”

I love that he knows what I like. That they both do. A girl could get used to two men going out of their way to please her.

“In that case,” Logan says, “I think you’ll like the blistered shishitos with goat cheese and chili sauce. And maybe the coconut shrimp crostini to share?”

“Perfect.” I survey the entrées, settling quickly on a sesame crusted ahi that Camille recommended. “Anyone want to split the Caribbean Caesar salad?”

“Me.” They both speak at the same time, then laugh.

“I’ll fight you for it.” Trent jokingly picks up his butter knife.

“No need.” Logan sets down his menu, splaying his hands on the table. “We’ll just have them make it for three.”

“You can do that?” God, I love this place .

“Yep.” Logan grins. “I know this is new to you guys, but group dates are pretty common around here.”