Cabin Mates

EMILY

“Heath, you should join us,” Wyatt says, his voice strained.

His friend turns and frowns. “No, it’s—”

“Emily wants you to.” Then Wyatt turns to me. “Right?”

An odd, powerful calm slides over me. I nod. That is what I want. “I’d like to get to know both of you better,” I admit. Then I smile at Wyatt, so thankful that he noticed. “You read me well. Not that I would have minded it just being the two of us.”

He ducks his head, and I swear he blushes.

That’s really cute.

But just as attractive is the stern way Heath almost glares at both of us, then mutters something under his breath.

“That’s a yes,” Wyatt says to me once we’re alone. “He’s gonna get changed and join us.”

I grin conspiratorially at him. “Excellent. Good job.”

“Oh, that was all you.” He smiles down at me for a moment, then his expression shifts, his gaze getting…more serious. “You need a swimsuit, too.”

I glance down. “I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be waiting for you.”

I feel his gaze on my back until I’m out of view, and then I shiver.

What are you doing, Emily?When they first arrived, I was confused and worried I’d done something wrong. But then over dinner, Heath’s quiet air of command kept drawing my attention.

And just now, the way Wyatt looked at me?

For a bookworm who has never kissed anyone, this is a lot to process all at once.

And as a bookworm who has read a lot of kissing books, it would be easy to get carried away with a fantasy. Because my body was definitely giving me mixed messages about what to do with these two men this weekend.

How could I be attracted to both of them? That doesn’t make any sense. In real life, I mean. On the page, I know exactly what would happen next.

A game of truth and dare in the hot tub would lead to swimsuits being tossed aside and…passions to flare wildly? I flop on my bed and curse myself for devouring horny books instead of carefully studying them like instruction manuals.

There’s no time to obsess over something that isn’t likely to happen.

I scramble off the bed and open my bag. I only have one swimsuit, and it’s nothing fancy. Just a turquoise one-piece I’ve had for a couple of years. I tug it on, then grab a few towels from the closet in the hallway—wrapping one around my body securely—and meet them back in the living room.

I’d thought they were good-looking when they arrived at the cabin. Now?

I nearly stumble when I catch sight of them waiting for me.

They’re both massive. Broad-shouldered, thickly muscled all the way down their bare torsos. And their swimsuits are riding low enough on their hips that I can see…things.

A line of hair down Wyatt’s belly, starting just below his navel and disappearing into his shorts in a way that promises there’s more of it there. I think about the neat little triangle of hair between my own legs and try to picture what his must look like.

Heath, on the other hand, has no hair on his lower abdomen that I can see, but he does have ridges of muscles curving over his hips that point in the same direction.

Both of them have bodies designed to draw my attention to the private space behind their swim trunks.

They’re built for sin, and I’m a curious little coed ready to find out how to be bad. Stop it, Emily. I can’t, though. My imagination is a dangerous thing. It’s just like a naughty book.

Oh, if only.