Chapter Three
I opened dazed eyes and stared straight into Dean’s mossy green irises. “Oh God, Dean, I’m so sorry,” I panted.
Tim raised his head and lifted my legs back over his shoulders, placing my feet on his knees.
“I didn’t mean…” I said in a shaky voice, curling my fingers into Dean’s t-shirt to keep him close. Keep him from walking away. “I’m sorry, I…”
One side of Dean’s mouth twitched into a half-smile. He glanced down at Tim, who was wiping his shiny chin with the back of his hand.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, shivering as a final orgasmic shudder claimed me. “I just, I don’t…” I shook my head. “It’s been a long time.”
Dean grinned. “I can tell,” he said. “Jeez, you just about exploded off the worktop. Good job I walked in and caught you when I did.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You—you don’t mind?” I asked, looking at his smiling face.
“Hell, no. Seems like the best solution for all of us. We both like you, you like both of us.” He paused. “At least I think you do—”
“Yes, yes I do.”
Dean smiled. “So let’s all have fun together.”
“Yeah,” Tim said, smoothing his hands up my legs to the tops of my stockings. “What better way to spend Christmas Eve than being surrounded by brotherly love, eh Sylvia?”
I looked between them. Was this really happening? Were they really suggesting I didn’t need to make a choice?
It seemed they were.
I swallowed tightly as Dean pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. “Say yes, honey,” he murmured. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
I didn’t think for a minute I would.
“Yes,” I said, tucking my fingers under the hacked-off arms of his t-shirt and feeling smooth, warm skin. “Yes, I want you both, I didn’t know how to choose. I couldn’t. I—”
“Good, that’s all we need to know,” Tim said, pushing up from the chair and scraping the legs noisily on the floor tiles. “’Cause you got me so hard it’s getting damn uncomfortable in these jeans.” He plucked me out of Dean’s embrace into his and lifted me off the counter. “It’s time to all get naked. But first I need a shower. Pounding those drums under the studio lights worked up a bit of a sweat, as did that moment of excitement.”
I wriggled my hips and shoved my skirt back to my knees. I glanced at my panties, twisted and abandoned on the floor. They could stay there. I was looking forward to getting naked too. My sweater felt hot and itchy on my super sensitized skin.
Tim tugged my hand and led me out of the kitchen. Dean was close behind. I could hear his footsteps and feel his breaths on the back of my neck. We walked past the sparkling Christmas tree with its dramatic backdrop of the London skyline. I didn’t pause to admire it; my one short, sharp orgasm had made me greedy for more and the thought of getting my hands on both the Coltrane brothers at the same time had me almost coming again with excitement.
Tim paused briefly at the enormous stereo in the living room and flicked a switch. The room filled with the intro to “Slip Knot.” Loud and intense, the deep bass of Dean’s guitar groaned like an excited lover getting ready to enter the final throes of ecstasy.
“This way,” Tim said over his shoulder.
We went into the bedroom. Smoky mirrors filled every wall, creating a million infinite images of us hurrying over the plush carpet. I glanced at the brothers’ faces.
Both wore the same hungry, determined expression, one in front, one behind me. There was no turning back.
I didn’t want to turn back.
Tim threw open a mirrored door to an en suite and ushered me in. I caught my breath. It was enormous, as big as the bedroom nearly. There was a giant, walk-in shower cubicle with two heads and hundreds of small jets sunk into the wall, two big sinks surrounded by toiletries. A separate door, slightly ajar, revealed a toilet and bidet. In the corner of the main bathroom, beneath a picture of Venus emerging from rolling waves, was a plus-sized chaise longue. It was red and white striped and its legs were polished silver and shaped like fat feet with claws.
“This is fabulous,” I exclaimed, stepping farther in. Their song continued to play from speakers in the ceiling, Robbie belting out the first verse about knots, headboards and all-consuming love.
“Yep, it’s definitely big enough for three,” Dean said, removing his sneakers.
Tim did the same, then dragged off his t-shirt. I studied the small silver bar he had through his right nipple. I’d seen it before—in the summer all the band were prone to stripping to jeans—but seeing it now, after what he’d just done to me and what we were about to do, made it so damn sexy I wanted to curl my tongue around it.
“I don’t think this bathroom has hosted a threesome before,” Tim said, flicking on the shower. “Ian and Robbie are only into one at a time.”