“Will you tell me these stories?”
Dylan stripped off his boxers and climbed beneath the top sheet and blanket before answering, “Take your clothes off, climb into bed with me, and I’ll think about it.”
Her smile dimmed. She turned her back on him and sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to share. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
Dylan ran his palm down her spine. “You aren’t being nosy. They are simply permanent reminders of my difficult past with women.”
She looked at him over one shoulder. “You don’t seem like a man who would ever have any difficulty with women.”
“You never met my ex-wife.”
“True. And I didn’t even know you’d been married.”
He nodded solemnly. “She’s the reason for both tattoos, and why I never want to get married ever again.”
* * * *
Lilianna stiffened the moment Dylan revealed he never wanted to get married again. His tone seemed so angry, so defiant, and well, so permanently decisive.
In the deepest part of her mind, she’d always dreamed of getting married one day to someone perfect. And she’d wanted the whole fairy-tale package once upon a time, too.
Today she shoved those childish desires back in the dark corner of never going to happen land even as she wondered how that worked with two men instead of just one.
Mostly she was sorrier than ever for even remarking on Dylan’s tattoo. It wasn’t as if she expected a wedding ring after frolicking with two men all night, but he seemed so resigned and adamant. She hated to have put a damper on the almost sex with a slammed door on a silly hope she’d once dreamed about.
Dylan stroked her back again. “Relax and climb into bed with me. I’ll tell you all about my drunken tattoo stories, and most importantly, why you’ve maybe single-handedly changed my mind.”
She twisted to look at him. “I’ve changed your mind about relationships and marriage?”
He shrugged, and that irresistible grin of his surfaced. “Maybe.”
She grinned back. “We haven’t even known each other for a whole day yet.” The fairy-tale future door inched open a bit and revived her hope.
Dylan shrugged. “So? Maybe I know a good thing when I see it. Or rather, a good woman.” He slipped his hand beneath her shirt, ran his fingertips up her spine, and had her bra unfastened before she took her next breath. “Maybe I want to explore a little because you awaken something in me.”
“Like what?” Lilianna didn’t feel much like a good woman. She felt like a total troublemaker. They were currently hiding out because of her. Hunter was fending off the federal authorities because of her. She was at best a nuisance and at worst an inexperienced lover they were both allowing in their bed, but still a nuisance. “I’m not a good woman.”
“Sure you are. You’re good for me and Hunter. He looks at you like he wants to hand you the world.”
“Does he?”
“Yep. You’ve got him completely wrapped around your little finger.”
“That was never my intention.”
“Too bad. And too late. We’re both in a new place. Roll with it for a little while. Nothing needs to be carved in stone tonight, right?”
She allowed a smile to shape her lips and pulled her shirt and bra off, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. She then shimmied out of her jeans and climbed into bed with him.
Flat on her back, Lilianna stared at the ceiling and sorted through her feelings. Their time together had moved very fast, as if coming together sexually had opened a new and never before contemplated relationship.
She was already half in love with two men who made her feel vastly more educated about sex, and what new and exciting facets available that they had to offer. She’d never hoped to have such a close physical relationship in her life, and especially not with two veritable strangers. But Dylan and Hunter didn’t seem like strangers anymore.
The orgasms were amazing. The “plastered naked to a man who was also naked and about to have sex in a foldout bed for her first time ever” made her never want sofa sex again. The “slammed face forward against the wall sex, then fucked into remarkable bliss” had also been very satisfying and completely unforgettable.