thoroughly enjoyed watchin’ them work out, well...right up until it turned into a fight, anyway. Flint and Alder move with such grace and confidence it’s impossible not to track their every move when they’re in a room.
I thought they were sexy before as they climbed ropes and lifted weights, but now? Clad in only terry cloth with beads of steam and sweat clingin’ to their defined muscles as they relax beside me? Every part of me has taken notice. So much so that I start squirmin’ on the bench, my very own sauna steamin’ up between my thighs.
What was I gonna talk to them about again? Oh right, cheap shots and white flags.
I brush away my peaked interest and try to figure out the best way to talk to Flint and Alder about their behavior. Flint cracks an eye open and turns toward me, those storm-gray eyes cuttin’ right through the debate in my head. “You think this cedar is enough to cover it up?” he rumbles.
“Huh?”
His mouth hitches up in the corner. “Your arousal, Peaches. We can smell it.”
My eyes flick from him to Alder, and sure enough, my yellow-haired demon has more than just sweat drippin’ down his body—there’s desire bleedin’ out of his candied eyes too. His lavender skin is darker than usual from the heat, and I find myself wantin’ to trace every single one of his watercolor blossoms with my tongue.
“Well, I’m sittin’ half naked next to you two, and you’re hotter than a Georgian summer,” I admit. “I still can’t believe you’re my mates,” I say, the term tastin’ more and more delicious each time I say it.
“Well, believe it,” Alder says, his hand comin’ out to skate over my arm. It shouldn’t be possible in this heated room, but just that touch sends a shiver down my spine, makin’ my wings flutter slightly.
“I won’t do it again,” Flint confesses, his head tilted back against the wood planked wall and his eyes closed.
“Do what?” I ask, confused.
“I won’t go after Delta’s mates. I got it all out of my system,” he tells me casually, and I study the planes of his face for a moment, but I don’t detect any bullshit.
“Okay, good,” I chirp, decidin’ I can live with that. Flint does appear infinitely more relaxed after cleanin’ Jerif’s clock with a right hook.
I look over to Alder, but he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m moving on too,” he concedes, and I nod once.
Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.
I relax a little bit more, glad that’s over with. I look to the guys and feel gratitude and relief wash through me. I never in a million years thought I’d end up with a couple of guys like them, but damn, I got lucky. Not only are they sexy and protective, but they listen to me too.
“I must’ve broken a lot of she-demon hearts by takin’ y’all off the market,” I say, not at all feelin’ guilty about that.
Alder shrugs while Flint gets up and goes to the shelf inlaid near the sauna’s door and a hidden cabinet I hadn’t even noticed before. “Do we need to have the talk, Peaches?” he asks, as I watch the marble-gray veins of his back move with the bunchin’ of his muscles as he opens the cabinet door—which I now realize is an ice box. He picks up a chilled pitcher and starts fillin’ water in a glass before he comes over and hands it to me, along with a cold wet washcloth.
I take them both gratefully, gulpin’ down the cold water and passin’ it off to Alder so he can have a drink too before I drape the cold cloth around the back of my neck. It feels heavenly. “What talk?” I query. Did I do somethin’ worthy of a lecture?
Flint takes the empty cup from Alder and drains his own glass before he tosses a cold washcloth to him too. He then sits back down on the bench with a cool cloth around his own neck, and settles me with a look. “The roster.”
His meanin’ dawns on me, and I squirm a little. “Oh. Uhh, no?”
Alarm bells ring in my mind, and there’s a steady chant of red alert goin’ off in my head. Mayday! Mayday! How the hell did we get on this topic?
Flint smiles and swipes his washcloth over his face and chest, and damn if he doesn’t look sexy doin’ it. I wanna lean in and lick