"You've been thinking about this."
He smiled. "Yep."
I don't know what I would have said, because Micah said, "You are still overdressed."
I looked at him, frowning still, then smiled. "Hey, at least my legs are showing; you're the one under the sheet."
"You're both too covered up," Nathaniel said. "I'm the only one who's naked." To prove it, he sat up on his knees, and I got a view of things that no customer at Guilty Pleasures ever got to see. He grabbed a handful of sheet, jerking it off Micah, as he crawled toward me. He bent over the footboard, grabbing me around the waist, lifting, and putting his other arm under my thighs as he did it, so he picked me up at the same time, scooping me over the footboard and half-tossing, half-falling to the bed, so that I was suddenly between the two of them. We were all laughing as Nathaniel's hand slid underneath the sleep shirt. He stayed on the outside of my thigh, then the outside of my hip, my waist, and moved slowly higher. I wasn't laughing when his hand caressed my breast, but I was still smiling, and so was he.
Micah moved onto his side beside me, and his hand traced up the other side of me, to mirror Nathaniel's movements, until they both had a breast apiece, and the smiles began to slip to something more serious, but no less good.
It was Micah who tugged on the shirt and began to lift it up my body. It was Nathaniel's turn to mirror him. I raised my butt up so they could wiggle the shirt up higher and finally pull it over my head and arms. Micah tossed it on the floor and gazed down at me. "That's better," he said, voice already going deeper, not with inner leopard, but simply maleness.
I was suddenly lying there naked, staring up at both of them. They stared back, the green-gold eyes and the lavender. There was a growing darkness in both sets of eyes. That look that all men I've ever been with get in their eyes. A look that is certain of you, certain you won't say no, and that in this moment you are theirs. Maybe not forever, maybe not exclusively, but theirs, nonetheless, because even in the most submissive man there is something primitive that makes him want to possess you, even if it's just a night, an hour, a moment. Women may have their own version of the look, but if they do, I'm not near a mirror at the critical moment, and my very limited experience with women hadn't shown me the same look in their eyes. I'm not saying it's not there, just that I haven't seen it.
Micah kissed me, and this time he didn't have to worry about scarring anyone's psyche, so it was lips, tongue, and finally teeth, set delicately into my lower lips until I cried out for him, and a low purring growl trickled out from between his human lips, and into mine, so that I drank the sound of his purr down my throat as if the sound had taste, and substance. What did Micah's growling purr taste like? Cinnamon; he tasted like hot and sweet. I knew it was the new mouthwash, but it made his mouth taste like candy.
Nathaniel smelled like vanilla, always, to me, and as he pressed himself to me, that sweet scent mingled with the cinnamon, and the two of them together, Micah's mouth, and Nathaniel's skin, were like Christmas sugar cookies, vanilla, with that sprinkling of cinnamon on the top, red hots melted into the sugar - sweet and spicy and warm in the mouth.
Nathaniel licked across my nipple, a light flick of tongue, and then began to suck, harder, until it was hard enough for me to cry out softly. Micah kissed me again, while Nathaniel brought small sounds from me as he sucked one breast, and played with the other. It was as if Micah ate the sounds from my mouth, as Nathaniel sucked hard, and harder, his hand squeezing, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb, and finally pulling on the nipple, as he bit my breast. I cried out and Micah's kiss acted like a gag, muffling the sound. I felt his hand slide over my hip as he continued to eat the sounds of pleasure from my mouth. Nathaniel opened his mouth wider, taking as much of my breast into his mouth as he