Page 9 of Heat Stroked

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“Say yes.” His whisper commands me.

“Yes.”

“Baby, let me be your everything.” He says it again, “baby”. He nicknamed me already?

My brain seriously needs to get off its break.

“Would you like that? Living here, having all of your needs met?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I shouldn’t. I can’t. It’s too—”

“Hey,” he calmly soothes me. “It’s not too soon for—”

“One blinged-out pair of flip… Oh, are we skipping drinks?” Bennett tosses the shiny, pink flip-flops onto the couch and sidles up to us.

We remain caught in our moment, my breath stolen, and Roarke’s eyes begging me to accept.

Bennett directs his words to Roarke. “You didn’t send me to get shoes to cut me out of this did you?”

“I sent you to get shoes because Caroline deserves to be taken care of. She’s never been with a real man. She puts in grueling hours at the diner only to have a friend total her car. She deserves to be treated right, and we’re the men to do it, wouldn’t you agree?”

Bennett’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious? This is real? It’s more thandrinks?”

“No,” I eke out. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“That’s not true,” Roarke corrects. “You agreed to drinks. Then you said you’d let me teach you and take care of you.”

Reality never plays out well for me. I have to protect myself and my identity. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Well, now that I’m here why don’t we start over?”

I nod then shake my head, but can’t make my feet move. Is it so wrong to believe in a happily ever after?

Roarke says, “What if we only go back as far as me offering to give you an orgasm?”

Okay. I nod. A happy ending would work too.

He backs me against the wooden table, his lips taking what they promised moments ago. I’m lost in the passion of his kiss, the intensity and demand that we belong together. I’m being lifted and pictures are being knocked out of the way as Roarke sets me on the credenza.

I can no longer definebad.

“What about me? Did I get the wrong color shoes?” Bennett asks.

His levity gives us a breather to let him in. Their caresses are all over me. I kiss one man, then the other. My hands roam over their chests, their cocks, and their cocks again…I can’t believe what I’m doing. How did turning down drinks with them land us here?

I make little progress with their belts and buttons.

Roarke grips my hand and leans to my ear while Bennett occupies my mouth. “I told you this was all about you.”

A look is exchanged between the men and they both nod. Was that an agreement? Can they do that without words? What exactly did they agree to?

Fingers are under my tank top eliminating the need for understanding. My lip lock with Bennett breaks as they slide the top off of me, but the look on his face is pure wanton neediness like I’m the best thing he’s ever had. They’re both breathing hard, discarding their ties, and stripping their dress shirts. That thing Roarke said about adoring me…I know what it looks like now.

Using the few seconds they’re busy stripping their tops but not their bottoms, as if some unspoken code of conduct tells them to stop there, I unhook my bra and drop it to the side.

The girls spring free and the look of adoration shifts to craving. I’m going for it.

Four


Tags: Sylvie Haas Erotic