Page 14 of Asking For It

Whimper and beg him to lift me on the counter and take advantage of me? “Pout?” I jutted out my lower lip.

Kingston had gone quiet. Was he watching? Enjoying or irritated?

“That’s not a deterrent.” Owen pulled my frosting covered finger into his mouth.

When he traced circles over my skin, licking it clean, that whimper escaped.

His smirk was another layer of delicious. He dropped that wrist, still studying me. “Next plan?” He asked.

I nodded at my still captured hand. “You got chocolate on my wrist, too.” I’d stop short of asking him to lick every inch of me—probably.

A touch met the small of my back. “Save some for me.” There was Kingston. He grasped my fingertips.

Owen let me go to reach past me and grip the back of Kingston’s neck. He crushed his mouth to Kingston’s in the sort of all-consuming kiss that made my lips whimper for a hint of the same.

I think my gasp was as loud as Kingston’s when they broke apart.

Kingston chuckled softly and bit his bottom lip. “I meant the gorgeous lady’s chocolate frosting, but that’s pretty good too.”

Just. Wow.

The way they interacted with me, with each other, told me they were practiced at this two-guys-one-girl thing. Not that I expected to be their first. I was here for the physical gratification. The show between the two of them was an added bonus. Were they more than friends? They must be with a kiss like that.

When Kingston licked the sensitive skin along the inside of my wrist, my questions faded into the background and I moaned. That felt better than should be legal.

“Good?” he asked with a grin. His composure had returned.

Mine hadn’t. Any answer I could come up with felt weak, so I settled for nodding.

He increased the pressure of his tongue, alternating between licking and sucking, until goosebumps raised over every inch of me, and my nipples strained against my bra, wanting to feel this for themselves.

“Did you plan this?” My doubt was a bitch for trying to ruin this moment.

Owen twisted his mouth. “Which one of us?”

“You seem to work together pretty well, so both or either?”

Owen dipped his finger in the frosting again, and trailed a line down the side of my neck. He leaned in and dragged his tongue up the same curve, stopping with his lips on my earlobe. “Did we plan for you to burn dozens of cupcakes?” he whispered. “To have a deadline. To be willing to accept our help. To be so much fun to talk to, on top of being sexy as fuck?”

When he put it that way...

He caught my earlobe between his teeth, and tugged before pulling away to look me in the eye. “No. But if I had, I couldn’t have hoped for better.”

“What if I kick you out right now, with a tersethank you, and that’s that?” I wasn’t going to do that. They were delicious and there was nothing wrong with a physical, no-strings outlet to relieve stress, if that was where this was going. It didn’t even matter that they were my rivals. It wasn’t like I had to look them in the eye on a daily basis.

Kingston turned me toward him. “Then you kick us out. It was still a good day.” Damn him for saying the right thing. “Are you telling us to leave?”

“No.”

He was close enough I could see a faint dusting of flour in the dark stubble on his jaw. He fiddled with the top button on my blouse, tugging the fabric aside.

“Good. Because I can’t help but wonder, what you’d look like in just this apron.” He was making it difficult to remember why I didn’t care to have them in my life. He scraped my skin with a fingernail, stealing my breath.

I took the apron off. Was that better, or worse? “You’re not finding out today.” I kept my tone playful.

“What if”— He trailed a finger along my chest, following the curve of my shirt, dipping into my cleavage —“I want to see what you look like with nothing on at all? I’ve been fantasizing about unwrapping you since last night.” He dipped his head next to my ear, hot breath caressing my cheek. “If I drag my tongue over your bare skin, do you taste like salted caramel?”

Absolutely not. That was ridiculous. “Only one way to find out.” My response came out breathy. My pulse hammered in my ears at my own challenge—this kitchen was public. A lot of people got off to the idea of getting caught, but it was one of my top fears. Was there a phobia based on that?

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