Tia
Since the incident at breakfast four days ago, I can now move around the apartment with a feeling of relative ease.
There’s a comfortable silence between me and Lucas. I can feel him watching me, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I can’t say I hate it. I enjoy his presence; it’s like a blanket of protection wrapped around me at all times.
Lucas works mainly from the apartment, bringing his laptop into the living area while I work on my drawings. Often, I have a sense of awareness, and my pulse races. I’m convinced I can feel his eyes on me, but whenever I glance his way, he’s always working.
He rarely goes out, only when he’s needed at meetings.
Then, when Cole is home, he tends to back away and move into his office to give us space, but I feel his absence instantly, like a dull ache, and I long for him to be near.
I snuggle into Cole further, my head resting in his lap and my body curled up on my side, laying on the couch as we both watch an action movie play out on the huge television screen.
I feel him before I see him. The hairs on my skin stand to attention at his perusal of me. I instantly become aware of my ass cheeks peeking out of my pajama shorts and the camisole top that’s risen too high and now sits just under my breasts, exposing my stomach.
I glance his way; he’s standing, watching me, his eyes latched on to my ass cheeks. I suck in a sharp breath, unable to hide my reaction to him, and my chest heats at the thought.
He looks edible. His bare chest is still wet from showering, low gray joggers fall on the perfect ridged V with a scattering of dark hair leading down into the waistband.
He swallows thickly as my eyes meet his, and his hand tightens around his beer bottle, forcing the cords of his forearm muscles to bulge.
My nipples pebble under his scrutiny, and I swear his gray eyes darken with the knowledge of them doing so. My heart races, and the flush travels up to my face, making me suddenly grateful for the dim lighting.
“Brother, stop perving on my girl and come sit down.” Cole chuckles, breaking the sexual tension radiating from us.
I try to act unperturbed, brushing the hair from my face and shuffling slightly to ease the wetness I feel gathering between my legs from Lucas’s intense stare.
“Beauty, it’s okay. Lucas can squeeze in, can’t you?”
My eyes dart to Lucas as he slowly approaches like a wounded animal, clearly unsure of himself. His eyes swim with nervousness, making me want to pull him closer and tell him he’s welcome, that he can join us.
My pulse races at the thought before a pang of guilt hits me, cooling me down in an instant.
“Tia can rest her legs on you.” I glance toward Cole, a confident and smooth expression on his face. Not at all giving way to even the slightest bit of unease or showing that he’s picked up on any tension between the two of us, he motions for Lucas to sit down at the end of the couch.
I stare at the television, trying not to think of Cole’s huge body against my small one—overshadowing me—and now Lucas at the base of the couch, who flinches slightly when I rest my feet in his lap.
I go to move them away, but his voice comes out a choked whisper. “It’s okay.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat at his words, the warmth of his legs traveling through his joggers and onto my feet.
I cast a glance at him. He’s staring straight at the wall, not even looking at the television. His body is frozen still, and he’s tightly gripping the beer bottle. His shoulder muscles are pulled tight as he sits stoically still, as though he’s afraid to move.
Cole begins trailing his hand up and down my arm, sending a trail of goose bumps over my body. My heart races, and my nipples pebble beneath my top.
Lucas side-eyes the motion and eases himself into the cushions as though having to mentally force himself to relax.
His hand hovers over my foot with an evident tremble. My heart aches for him. Clearly, he wants to be included, but he’s either unsure of how far to go or unable to give in. Something inside me tells me it’s the latter, that he’s desperate to give in, that he wants a physical relationship, but he doesn’t know how or won’t allow himself.
My mind wanders, thinking about the little I know about Lucas other than Cole telling me he comes from a bad background of trauma, and that’s when I make my decision for him. I lift my foot and nudge his hand. His eyes dart toward mine in a widened panic, as though he’s done something wrong. I nod toward my foot and nudge his hand again, letting him know I want him to place his hand on my foot, touch it, caress it, just hold it.
Hold me.
I settle back into Cole with the soft glide of Lucas’s hand on my skin, setting alight a thousand tingles over my bare flesh.
Cole bends down low to my ear. “Good girl, beauty.”
His words make me squirm on the spot, my sleep shorts feeling wetter than ever before.
As if realizing my turned-on state, Cole moves his hand over my shoulder and toward my breast, slowly rotating his thumb over the material, stroking me to the point of distraction. His thumb brushes over my nipple and caresses it, making my pussy clench at his touch.
Cole thrusts slightly against me. The hardness of his cock by my face makes my breath quicken and my body heat as I struggle with my thoughts, unable to decide where to direct them: over the tender stroke of Lucas’s hand on my foot or over the pleasurable caress of my nipple from Cole’s fingers.
A moan of contentment escapes my lips, causing Cole to chuckle. “Come on, beauty. I think you need some attention. Let’s get you in bed.”
I don’t miss the disappointment washing over Lucas’s face, nor the slump in his shoulders.
Guilt clouds my vision as I stand with my hand entwined with Cole’s. I can’t look at him, not when I encouraged his touch and now I’m taking it away.
But as I turn and move away from the couch, my eyes latch on to the unmistakable solid erection in his joggers with a very prominent wet spot.
Did Lucas get hard just through touching me?
And why the hell am I so turned on by that when I’m so in love with Cole?
When I should feel guilt, all I feel is an overwhelming urge to please them.
Both of them.
