Page 69 of Theirs for the Holidays

It’s loud enough for his brothers to hear, certainly, and none of them argue.

My heart thuds in my chest, and I can guess what he’s getting at. “Am I the common goal?” I ask all the same.

Sawyer just chuckles.

Lennox shares a look with him. “We can be good at sharing, is what Sawyer means,” he says. “And he’s asking if you want us to demonstrate.”

I can’t believe this is happening. For all my fantasies, I don’t think it really crossed my mind that I could have all three of them wanting me like this. At the same time, even. It feels like a dream, and my stomach flutters with the thrill of it. If it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

Not until I see how far this could go and how good it could be.

So I nod, too breathless to speak at the moment.

Lennox growls, moving in to press me closer against Sawyer’s body with his own.

He grips my chin and turns my face to his, leaning down to kiss me again. His lips are insistent, working mine until I’m kissing him back. There’s something feverish about it. My mind keeps layering the first time we kissed, years ago, over this experience, and it makes my head spin.

Lennox lets me go after several seconds, passing me back to Sawyer. Sawyer kisses me with just as much intention. He presses his tongue past my lips, and I moan, welcoming him to do it.

He kisses like he wants to claim me. Like he wants to make sure there’s no way I could forget the feeling of his mouth on mine, of his tongue charting a path to make mine dance against his.

But when Lennox tugs me back, Sawyer lets me go easily, watching with barely repressed desire as his brother kisses me just as deeply.

It’s hard to keep track as they pass me back and forth. I turn into a whimpering mess, arching between them as my body responds. I can feel my pulse between my legs, and it’s just from these kisses.

Neither of them has touched me much more than that yet. Just hands on my hips, fingers at my jaw, my chin, turning me this way and that. But that’s enough to have my body humming with need for them.

When I take a breath, I can see Rhett watching us.

He stands there, still as stone, but his eyes are burning. There’s more emotion in them than usual, and it feels just like the way he watched me in the shower earlier. Like a physical thing I can feel, pressing down on my body.

“I’ve thought of you too,” I whisper to him. “Even before earlier in the shower. How could I not?” I hold his gaze, pleading silently with him to understand that I need him too.

He always holds himself apart, but I want him here, to take part in this with his brothers. It burns under my skin from how badly I want to feel him touch me, feel him kiss me again.

Please, I think, willing him to understand.Please come over here. Please don’t let this moment pass.

And I can tell that Rhett understands. I can see him debating with himself, turning it over in his head. In the end, a look of something like determination joins the arousal in his eyes, and my heart thumps agreeably when he mutters, “Fuck it,” under his breath and steps forward to join us.

He tugs me into his arms, and neither of his brothers argue about it. They just move in closer, letting their hands roam over my body as Rhett kisses me.

It’s a rough kiss from him, his lips moving hard against mine. But I lean into it, surrendering to the way he wants this. Lennox and Sawyer keep touching me, and then I feel lips on my neck, trailing down to where my clothes cover my shoulders.

Teeth bite down on my throat a bit, and I moan into Rhett’s mouth. He swallows it down, kissing me deeper.

Sawyer takes my face in his hands then and kisses me again. I can feel him smirking against my mouth just a bit. He licks into my mouth and then pulls back, spinning me around so that my back is to his front.

I come face to face with Lennox, who watches with an expression that’s some combination of fierce desire and something else I can’t quite read right now.

“You have no idea what you look like, do you?” Sawyer murmurs in my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine and sends goosebumps spilling over my skin. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

I shake my head a little, but he isn’t done.

He skates his hands over my body, letting them glide over my curves. “You’re solid,” he says. “And that’s good. You won’t break when we touch you. When we do all the things we’ve been wanting to do to you.” Those hands find their way between my legs, and I gasp, spreading them automatically. “Your thighs are so soft. So fucking plush. Makes me want to bury my face between them for a while.”

“Sawyer,” I groan. My hips thrust forward, looking for something to grind against. His words are lighting a fire in me, and judging from the way he chuckles, his breath fanning against the back of my neck, he knows it. He knows that he’s setting every nerve in my body on fire, making me crave more touch, more sensation.

“What?” he murmurs, nuzzling against me while his hands keep exploring. “You want me to keep going? You want me to talk about how I can’t take my eyes of your tits, even when you’re wearing an apron? How I can see how fucking gorgeous you are when you’re covered in flour, and it makes me want to make you messy in other ways?”