“—And he doesn’t get the right to put that sad look in your eyes,” Aidan finished. “Let him have his Stephanie Lowenstein. I’m sure they deserve each other. You, on the other hand, deserve way better.”
Hopping off the couch, Dylan marched over and settled on the other side of her. He reached for her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You deserve the best,” he declared. “You, Claire McKinley, deserve to be worshipped.”
She smiled. “You guys are too sweet.”
They both shrugged modestly.
“I’m serious,” she insisted. “You’re the sweetest, kindest, most amazing men I have ever met.”
“You don’t have to shower us with compliments,” Dylan said with a grin. “We’re already putty in your hands, honey. Case in point—that god-awful tree over there.”
“He’s right,” Aidan agreed ruefully. “I mean, for us to even allow such a monstrosity into our home says a lot about—”
She cut him off with a kiss.
Claire’s lips were soft, warm, sweeter than honey. She kissed him tenderly, with only the fleeting brush of tongue, and before he could even react, she was gone. Shifting around and bestowing that same loving kiss on Dylan’s lips.
“What was that for?” Dylan murmured.
“Just felt like it.” Smiling, she got to her feet, her hands toying with the bottom of her bright yellow T-shirt. “So I was thinking…”
Hope erupted in Aidan’s chest, but he refused to acknowledge it. Not until Claire made her intentions clear.
And she made those intentions crystal clear by pulling her shirt over her head and then wiggling out of her leggings.
Aidan’s breath lodged in his throat. Her skimpy white bra barely covered her full breasts, and the matching panties were nothing but a little triangle with two thin straps. She was beautiful. Stunning. Extraordinary. There weren’t enough adjectives in the English language to describe the vision of female perfection standing in front of them.
Lord, her bare skin looked so soft to the touch. He wanted to run his fingers all over that silky feminine flesh, but he resisted the urge, awaiting her next move.
“Claire, you don’t have to…” Dylan trailed off, his green eyes glued to the curves she’d put on display.
Aidan picked up where the other man left off. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he said gruffly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. If this is about wanting to feel desirable, then you’ve already got your answer.”
A little smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “Actually, this is about me wanting to be worshipped.”
Aidan exchanged a look with Dylan, who seemed equally apprehensive. Neither of them wanted her to do something she truly didn’t feel comfortable doing.
“You said that’s what I deserved, right?” Raising a brow, she glanced at each of them in challenge.
“Yes,” Dylan said.
“Then prove it, because if I ever needed to be worshipped, it’s right now.”
Without waiting for an answer, she began walking away, drawing both their gazes to her perfect ass. She halted when she was halfway to the corridor, reached around to unhook her bra, then tossed the lacy garment in their direction.
Keeping her back to them, she peeked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “You boys coming, or what?”
They exchanged another look.
And then they dove off the couch and raced after her.
Claire’s heart was beating perilously fast as she entered Aidan’s bedroom. Her hands shook with both excitement and nervousness, but she tried not to focus on the latter. Because she wanted this.
God, she really, really wanted this.
And it had nothing to do with the discovery that Chris had brought another woman on what should have been their honeymoon. She didn’t have feelings for Chris anymore, at least not this latest version of him. Or rather, the man he’d been all along but she’d been too blind to see it. The Chris who wanted to work in the prosecutor’s office and who liked taking her dancing didn’t exist. The real Chris didn’t deserve her, and he’d played no role in her decision to give in to Dylan and Aidan.
She couldn’t avoid the truth any longer—she had feelings for them both. She desired them both.
And she wanted both of them to fuck her.
The two men walked into the room without a word. She’d left the light off, and neither man made a move to flick the switch. They just stood there in the darkness, shadows dancing on their respectively handsome faces, making this entire encounter feel so very dirty.
It was Dylan who spoke first. “Get on the bed, Claire.”
A dark thrill shot through her. She climbed onto the mattress of Aidan’s king-sized bed and lay down on her back, resting her head on the mound of pillows leaning on the headboard.
Aidan turned on the light, dimming it to a sexy, erotic glow, and then the two men approached with slow, methodical strides. Predatory, almost.
Claire’s pulse raced as they started to undress. Their shirts came off first, exposing bare chests heavy with muscle, gleaming abs, powerful arms.