Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
When the new, and hopefully improved cookies are in the oven on a second pan, I see if I can salvage anything from the first batch, but now that they’ve cooled, they’re brittle and stuck to the pan.
When I voice my frustration, Rudy takes the spatula from me. “I’ll get them. Don’t worry. The next ones will be better.”
Meanwhile, Nick picks up a fragment, pops it into his mouth, and declares that they still taste good. Then he holds a piece up to my mouth. He watches me chew—and he’s right, they do at least taste good, even if I’m not sure they’re still technically cookies—then feeds me another bite.
He follows that up with a kiss, then another, and another. Rudy joins us, and then the three of us are full on making out, the two men passing me back and forth between them, both of them keeping their hands on me no matter who I’m kissing at the time.
Nick has a hold of my hip, his hand gripping me like I’m his, while Rudy devours my mouth, making me hungry and dizzy and needy. I stroke his beard, then slide my fingers into his thick hair and pull him closer to—
“What’s that smell?” I peel my mouth off of Rudy’s. “Oh shit, the cookies!”
They’re not so blobby this time. They’re fairly well defined, with very crisp, very black edges. The tops were probably golden brown several minutes ago, but they’re well past that stage.
“I forgot to set the timer,” Nick says, though of course, it’s not his responsibility.
“Can we scrape off the dark parts?” Rudy asks, but when he gets a better look at them, he immediately abandons that idea.
“We have more dough,” Nick says, but I toss the oven mitt on the counter.
“I give up. How hard is it to get one freaking pan of cookies to come out right—just one?” There’s no reason for me to be this upset, but it’s embarrassing and frustrating, and I’m tired, or maybe it’s the up and down roller coaster of emotions this evening, but I’m suddenly near tears, for no good reason.
“Hey, come here.” Rudy wraps his arms around me and rubs my back. “It’s okay.”
“I won’t have anything to take into work tomorrow.”
“It’s okay. It’s just cookies.” He scoops me into his arms, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He nods toward the oven, prompting Nick to turn it off, then Rudy carries me out to the living room with Nick following behind.
“We didn’t manage to make cookies, but we made a few memories,” Nick says as Rudy settles onto the couch, with me crosswise on his lap.
That gets a smile out of me, and when Nick takes my feet and starts to massage them, I let out a sigh.
“Sorry I’m in a mood tonight,” I say.
Rudy nuzzles my neck and strokes my hair. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I hope things go better tomorrow.”
Work is a stressor sometimes, for sure, but if I’m being honest, a big part of the distress I’m feeling is coming from the fact that I’m falling for four men, and they’re all going to expect a decision from me sooner or later—probably sooner than later—and the more time I spend with them, the less I can imagine how I’m going to decide among them.
But I can’t think about that right now, because the men’s hands are starting to wander.
Chapter 18
Nick’s thumbs are pressing into my calf muscles, easing tension I didn’t realize I was holding. Rudy’s kissing my neck and blowing softly against my ear, sending shivers throughout my body. He sucks on my earlobe before giving it a gentle tug, and I’m shocked by how such a little move could have such a big impact.
My body floods with desire, quickly drowning out all the stress and worries. I shift so that I can reach both of the men, and end up straddling Rudy’s lap. I slide my hands under both his and Nick’s shirts, reveling in how strong and firm their muscles are, while their skin is so warm and smooth.
Rudy pulls me in for a kiss, and while I’m focusing on that, Nick wraps his hands around me from behind. When he glides his fingers over my chest, I look over my shoulder at him. “Touch me there again. Please.”
He quickly does as I ask—so quickly, it’s like he was waiting for an invitation. He cups my breasts through my shirt, then starts to tease my nipples, bringing them to stiff points.
Rudy cups my face in his hands and brings my lips back to his, as Nick slides his fingers inside my shirt. He traces the outline of my bra, teases me more over the satin and lace, then finally slips inside to stroke my bare skin, making me moan into his brother’s mouth.