I know what he’s feeling, because I’m feeling the same way.
As Barrett kisses me, Bronson moves behind me, his body a wall of heat pressing against my back. His hands wrap around me to caress my midsection before sliding under both the t-shirt and my tank top to blaze their heat across the bare skin above my jeans.
Just as I’m deciding that I want to carry on in this situation for the rest of my life, Barrett moves back and Bronson turns me toward him — it’s his turn to kiss me. Aside from the gin/bourbon contrast, the brothers share a similar taste, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to get enough of it.
Bronson captures my bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a nip before soothing it with his tongue. He nips it again, giving it a gentle tug, and I moan involuntarily as my pussy throbs in response.
“Bronson,” I say in breathy surprise when he pauses his attack.
His chuckle comes from low in his throat. “We’ve been wondering if you could tell us apart.”
I press a hand into his chest and put a few inches of distance between us. “I couldn’t forget you. And I tried.”
He closes the space in an instant, pulling me against him, covering my mouth with his, tasting me, teasing me, telling me desperate things.
Hands knead my shoulders and slide down to my waist before wrapping around me. At first, I assume it’s Barrett, but the energy is different, and I’m not surprised when I turn to find Lennox pressed against my back.
I’m surrounded again, and I wish it didn’t feel so right.
Lennox slides his hands around to my front, somehow finding space between Bronson and me. He explores for a minute, reaching to just below my bra, across my belly and down to my hips, before settling into an embrace around my middle.
As Bronson continues to kiss me, Lennox whispers in my ear. “We missed you, Caz. We never wanted to leave you.”
His words tug way too hard at my heart. I’ve been cycling through all kinds of emotions since the Stone brothers came back to town, but there are certain feelings I can’t allow.
Whatever is going on between us right now — it was only supposed to be physical.
I push back from Bronson and step to the side to break contact with Lennox. “This needs to stop. I can’t do this.”
As promised, they stop immediately, their eyes conveying confusing mixtures of concern, regret, and frustration. Even Lincoln, who hadn’t really gotten involved.
“This just … isn’t a good idea.” Spotting the new, uncut t-shirt on the desk, I grab it and disappear out the door.
I’m both relieved and disappointed when they let me leave without a word.
13
All-consuming
A good night’s sleep can often provide a fresh perspective on complicated situations. Despite the fact that I do somehow manage to sleep, I’m no more clear on the night’s events the next morning. Actually, I’m more confused than ever.
Shook, really, would be the best way to describe how I feel.
If Lennox hadn’t said what he did, how far would I have let things go? His words somehow snapped me into my right mind, but before that, I was in an eighteen-wheeler, driving down a mountain highway with the brakes about to give out.
I’ve never felt anything like that before.
Though my sexual history isn’t extensive, I’ve been with a few men who were quite skillful and talented, who gave me pleasure, and on one occasion, even a double orgasm. But nothing before has ever felt so all-consuming, so uncontrollable, so … right.
And it was all in just a span of maybe … five minutes? I honestly have no idea how long I was in that office. It was an eternity flashing by in a split second.
Knowing the Stone brothers can have that kind of effect on me leaves me feeling fragile and vulnerable, like a flower — and ugh — I’ve never compared myself to a flower before.
Nothing like that can happen again. Surely they’ll have come to their senses too.
After the longest day of work ever, it’s time to go back to Rusty’s. How I wish Rusty was still the boss there.
Without a second thought, I put on the bulky, unmodified t-shirt that covers me from neck to butt. My new bosses won’t get any trouble from me tonight; I just can’t risk it.
I let out a sigh of relief when they allow me to pass their office without a summons. Again, there’s a twinge of disappointment, but I ignore it. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to there being drama whenever I’m near them, but I’m not a person who thrives on drama. Not at all.
It’s a busy Saturday, and I throw myself into my work, ignoring the fact that I’m hyper alert to the sight of any of the four men showing up in the main room. It’s normal that I’d feel strange around them; it doesn’t mean anything.