Porterhouse (Grade-A Beefcakes 4)

“No showroom?” I pointed to the right. “That’s my house, the second one down.”

As Bennett pulled up in front of my small Craftsman bungalow and turned off the engine, he said, “Don’t need one since I sell custom bikes. My business has grown enough where word of mouth works for me.”

I nodded. “I’m in marketing so I get it, and you’re very lucky to have such loyal customers.”

Cash opened the door and hopped out. He turned, held out his hand to me. “He’s modest, his bikes are killer. Has a huge waiting list.”

I took the hand, felt the callouses on his palm, but also the gentle touch, the warmth of his skin. He wasn’t like the guys I worked with, all pale from sitting behind a desk all day, their muscles from a gym’s rowing machine.

Cash was solid-packed muscle earned from hard work. In his shop. He got his hands dirty… literally. And that was pretty darn hot, along with the rest of him.

Bennett came around and stood beside Cash, blocking me in the space between the open door and the truck. One built custom bikes—and from what was said, was very successful at it—and the other ran the local repair shop. And they were gorgeous. Not the typical Montana cowboys. Being from Miami, they weren’t really even cowboys. They didn’t wear the big hats like my brothers, nor the snap shirts. They looked more… urban. Rough around the edges and not from hauling hay bales and wrangling horses. I wasn’t even sure if they knew how to ride a horse. I liked that. A lot. They were different. And they were staring at me with interest in their gazes.

What more could I want?

Oh yeah, a kiss. Or two. At least.

“Tell us, Angel, if you’re into being with two men,” Bennett said.

He’d called me Angel more than once. I liked the endearment, but I couldn’t focus on that now. “You mean because of my brothers?”

Cash squeezed my hand which made me realize he hadn’t let go. “No, because of me and Bennett. Wanting you.”

My mouth fell open and I tugged my hand away, used it to tuck my hair back behind my ear, although it was out of nervous habit rather than necessity.

It was late spring; the weather in Montana could be anywhere from balmy to blizzard. Fortunately, tonight it was warm enough where I didn’t need a coat. But with the guys right in front of me, I was practically sweating.

“Why?” I blurted out.

Bennett reached out, ran his hand over my hair, which made it fall forward. Even with his big fingers, he tucked it back again. Goose bumps rose on my skin at the contact. “Why what?”

“Why do you want me? I mean, there are tons of women in town who would literally hand their panties to you.”

“Maybe because you’re different,” Bennett said. “Because you don’t give us your panties; you give us dildos.”

“You want a dildo instead of panties?” I asked in return. He was intentionally pushing my buttons, but I couldn’t help but get riled.

“Your panties would only end up in my pocket,” Cash said, taking a step closer. There was nowhere for me to go, so I had to tip my chin back to keep my eyes on his. “The dildo would end up deep in your pussy. Until we were done playing, then you’d have the real thing.”

Oh my god. Cash was a dirty talker. My inner walls clenched at what he said, and I was starting to pant. The dildos were large; my fingers couldn’t get all the way around. I imagined Cash and Bennett to be even bigger. My pussy clenched at the thought. Could they even fit?

“I’m not very good at this,” I admitted, looking down at the front of his shirt.

“Neither are we,” Bennett replied, sliding in close and taking my free hand. They each held one now. I worried my palms were still sweaty, I was so nervous… yet oddly giddy.

“At sex? As if,” I countered. These two bad at sex? No fucking way. Cash’s words alone could make me come. Odd, because I didn’t feel this way at all when I was with a guy in bed.

Cash tugged on my hand, pulling me into his arms. He lowered his head and kissed me. Gently, softly. His beard tickled, but all I felt was sensation. Heat. His lips brushed mine, his tongue sliding along my lower lip.

He pulled back before I could open for him. His eyes, even in the soft glow from the streetlight a half block down, looked almost black, intense. Fathomless.

I wanted more. God, I’d never felt anything like that and just from a chaste kiss. I went up on my tiptoes, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I caught him by surprise, for he didn’t kiss me back right away. But when he did, there was tongue. Lots of it. His beard was soft, adding sensation to the kiss I wasn’t used to. The arms that banded about my waist lifted me right off my feet.

He put me down too quickly and I blinked, realizing my eyes had fallen closed. Why had he stopped? It had been so good and I wanted more. “Cash—”

“It’s Bennett’s turn.”

I’d forgotten all about him, even though he was right there.