“And you?” I asked over the sudden sound of blasting water. “Have you shared a girl before?” I wanted to know. This was a first for me. I needed to know if it was a first for them too.
“Let’s just say we know how to satisfy a woman we’re both hot for,” Dean said, reaching for the bottom of my sweater. “Not just in the bedroom.” He paused and rolled his eyes with a grin. “I mean not just in the bathroom, but in every aspect of life.”
I lifted my arms as he slid the sweater over my head. My hair swung back around my cheeks.
“Yeah.” Tim stepped behind me. “We know how to please a woman, right down to every tiny, important detail.”
“So you’ve had a threesome before?” I asked.
“Mmm,” Dean murmured. “We have.”
My heart did an extra string of beats, which made me a little lightheaded. Should I be nervous or should I be grateful they knew the logistics?
“Yeah, but we haven’t had a threesome with you, Sylvia,” Tim whispered on a hot breath into my ear. “So this is special. Tonight is very special.” He fiddled with the clasp on the back of my bra and I felt it loosen around my ribs. Nerves and thoughts of practical considerations fled my mind as Dean tugged the straps from my shoulders. My breasts hung heavy on my chest—my flesh tingled with anticipation and my nipples stuck out like hard beads.
“Beautiful,” Dean said, looking down at me. “You really are exquisite.”
A flutter of excitement claimed my body as he reached out and brushed his thumb over first my right nipple and then my left. My areolas tightened further.
“So pretty,” Tim said, his chest hair pressing into my shoulder blades. I could feel the nipple piercing, cool and hard as he moved in tighter. He slid his hands around my waist and up over my flat stomach until he was cupping the underside of my breasts. Dean stooped and took my left nipple into his warm, wet mouth. I moaned in delight as Tim gently squeezed and massaged the flesh his brother was working with his tongue.
“You like that?” Tim asked huskily.
“Yes, oh, yes,” I said, tipping my neck into the dip of his shoulder.
“Good, ’cause there’s plenty more to come.”
Dean was touching my breasts too—four big, male palms and one hot, hungry mouth, worshipping, kneading, suckling. I let out a whimper as a sudden, blinding lust pierced my body. If there was plenty more, I wanted it now.
I pushed Dean away. “I thought we were all getting naked,” I said, my voice deep and needy.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re going to,” Dean replied, an impatient shard of desire slicing across his pupils as he straightened.
Tim’s hot breath caressed my scalp. “Much as I’ve been fantasizing about this obscenely tight skirt you wear, it’s time for it to go. It’s well and truly served its purpose.” He tugged the zip just below the arch of my back and I wiggled my hips to let the skirt slither down my legs.
I stood before them in just my black silk garter belt and my delicate, lace-topped stockings.
Dean ran his hand over my bare hips, the thin straps of my garters and down my thighs. When he reached the stocking tops he looked down at me, taking in my pale skin and my thin strip of light brown pubic hair. “Phew,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Best damn Christmas stockings we’ve ever had, don’t you agree, Tim?”
“Hell, yeah.” Tim was smoothing over my butt. “This is exactly what I asked Santa for in this year’s stocking,” he murmured. “I must have been a very good boy.”
“Not everyone’s definition of good is the same as yours,” I said, watching Dean unhook the small, round clips of the garter belt. “I think you’re both being really bad, actually.”
Dean looked at me and his eyebrows twitched.
“In the best possible way,” I said with a smile and cupped his scratchy jawline in my palm.
He grinned back as my garter belt fell to the floor. Both men squatted, each rolling down a stocking into a fat ring at my ankles. I placed my hand on Dean’s shoulder, lifted my left leg while he pulled his stocking off my foot and tossed it aside. I did the same with my right leg and let Tim take off my final article of clothing.
They loomed back over my nakedness, tall and wide and oozing desire. Tim’s breath was hard and fast on my neck and Dean’s high cheekbones had flushed. I noticed beads of sweat on his upper lip, settling in his stubble. The running shower was heating up the room as much as our lust was.
“I’m way ahead of you,” I said softly, sliding out from between them. I stepped toward the shower. “Slowcoaches.”
I stuck a hand into the blasting water, checked the temperature, then shimmied through the glass partition. I gasped. The water was hot and fierce, peppering hard bullets onto my sensitive breasts. I pushed my fingers through my hair, scraping it back over my forehead as water soaked through it. A bottle of jasmine shower gel caught my eye and I reached for it, flooded my palm and set about soaping my breasts, my stomach and my hips. I held my face to the streaming water and breathed in the summer sweetness that laced my tongue like sherbet. The hot pounding and the slippery gel washed away the busy day and I let go of every thought except here and now.
And what a here and now!
I opened my eyes and came face-to-face with two big, naked rock stars looking decidedly single-minded about what they wanted from me. I fought a tremor of nerves. Could I do this?