Trinity (13 page)

“Please God, please.” My voice is a hoarse whisper.

“Who do you belong to?” Chase plunges his tongue between my parted lips before I can respond, continuously rolling my nipple between his fingertips, driving me mad.

Between lashes, I mutter, “You. Both of you.” I suck on his bottom lip desperately. I’m so fucking close; it’s insufferable.

My muscles clench around Shane’s fingers, inducing him to pump harder.

“Fuck, make me come, make me come!” I just about cry as my legs quiver, ready to give out. With the right amount of pressure, Shane hits my sweetest spot, and I implode, my body jerking violently in Chase’s iron grasp. My release is as damaging as a tidal wave; it’s a large, sudden, destructive crest of physical and emotional exertion. They subdue me as I moan and shake, demanding every last ounce of need within me.

Once the vibrations pass, my limbs go limp, and my two imperious men release me from my bonds. They cradle my drained body under the running water until I’m responsive again.

“I missed your sweet taste.” Shane slides his lips up my neck.

“And I missed your sweet moans.” Chase licks the seam of my mouth.

Lazily, I crack open my eyes. “Do you know what I miss?”

They both shake their heads.

“Watching the two of you. Together.”

Their eyes sparkle with lust. “Well, it just so happens making you come makes us horny as fuck.” Shane digs his erection into my thigh.

“Show me how much.”

My simple request is all it takes to have them smashing their lips together and attacking each other like the unrestrained animals they are. I step back and enjoy the show as the two powerful men,
my men,
turn a carnal leaf.

Steam clouds the spacious stone shower as Shane and Chase exchange motions, jerking each other rhythmically, showing they know how to touch each other as well as they know how to touch me.

“Fuck him,” I provoke them.

In a flash, Shane shoves me down onto the shower seat and bends over, trapping my body between his arms as he braces his hands on the wall.

We lock eyes as Chase grips his hips. A slight head tilt on my part affords me the view I’m after. Chase sinking two slippery fingers directly into Shane’s ass. Shane’s straining moan and ‘oh’ face make me crazed. Their pleasure is so fucking addictive; it sets my blood on fire.

I grip Shane’s damp golden locks as Chase stretches him wide, preparing him for what’s to come. I spy in a lust-filled haze as Chase penetrates him, sliding the head of his swollen cock in painstakingly slow. Shane and I share a lingering moment of escalating arousal, eye to eye, mouth to mouth, sigh to sigh right before Chase begins beating away at him. I watch with wonder as their bodies connect, listen with reverence as they groan and growl, relishing in the fact that neither of them, ever once, peel their wild eyes away from me.

“Stroke yourself,” I urge Shane with a husky voice. “Come all over me while Chase comes in you.”

“Ah, baby.” My request sparks an immediate action on his part. Shane grabs his cock and strokes hard while Chase’s erratic thrusts jerk his body forward.

They’re both so close. So dangerously, deliciously close, it turns me into a hypnotized predator. I swear I feel my pupils dilate from the upshot of arousal.

“Come for me.” I scoot closer to Shane, giving him a direct shot at my chest. “All right here.” I taunt them both, cupping my naked breasts.

“Fuck, Shane, come all over her.” Chase clenches his jaw and shudders, the two of us overpowering his control.

“With fucking pleasure.” A guttural sound unleashes from Shane right before I’m doused repeatedly with warm, white liquid.

The two of them together are a force of nature. So raw and powerful, my ovaries throb.

Once their tornadic climaxes peak, Shane drops to his knees in front of me. Without a word, he encircles me in his arms and rests his head on my lap. I’m arrested by his vulnerable gesture. My heart pinches in my chest.

I ruffle his hair lovingly before Chase cups my face, and we share a winded kiss. A prolonged, deep, passionate, pulse-pounding kiss.

I finally admit to myself just how much I love these men. From the heavens above to the core of the earth below.

“Take me to bed,” I implore them.

“Tell us you’re home.”

I smile sincerely for the first time in weeks. “I’m home.”

I POUND THE COLD STICK OF
butter with a French rolling pin. If you’re in search of some anger management in a pinch, this works wonders. I scrape the butter up with a pastry scraper and fold it over onto itself, then repeat the process until the butter bends without breaking.

Making puff pastry from scratch may seem time-consuming and intimidating to some, but I was looking for a challenge. And I definitely found one.

Tonight marks six months that Shane, Chase, and I have been together. Six months since I lost one home and gained another. I won’t lie; it hasn’t been easy. I harbor a lot of resentment toward Ty Winters. The fact that he’s Shane and Chase’s employer doesn’t sit well with me, but I try to remember they aren’t him. That what Ty did wasn’t personal, even if it feels that way. I focus on the positive. On what Pops would want me to do. Move on. Live. Laugh. Love. I keep his memory alive by doing just that. And it gets me through each and every day.

Life is hard. It’s a struggle, but the slivers of happiness beaming like sunshine through the dark clouds make it all worthwhile.

Shane and Chase, Janine and Jack, and cooking are my happiness. I smile as the dough forms beautifully. Tonight’s celebratory menu consists of salmon atop puff pastry with pesto sauce. Grilled asparagus and homemade whipped potatoes. Almost sounds gourmet, huh?

Maybe on a smaller scale.

I prepare the salmon and puff pastry on a foil-lined baking sheet, ready to pop it in the oven. Right before I do, I hear Chase call my name.

I glance at the kitchen clock. They’re early. I wasn’t expecting them home till seven.

“Pixie, put your shoes on. We have to go out,” he announces as he walks briskly into the airy kitchen.

“I can’t go out,” I protest. “I’m just about to put dinner in the oven.” I lift the baking sheet to show him my masterpiece in progress.

“Baby, I know how touchy you are about your food,”—he places his hands on my face—“but I’m not taking no for an answer. Put the baking sheet down and back away slowly.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He shuts the oven off, ignoring my complaints. “Put your shoes on willingly, or I’m throwing you over my shoulder barefoot.”

“Caveman in a suit,” I bluster. My dinner is ruined.

He smiles shamelessly. “Primitive and refined all rolled up in one handsome package. Aren’t you lucky?”

“Pissed off is what I am,” I grumble.

Chase steals an entertained kiss, then sends me on my way with a swat on the butt.

“Hey!” I snap as I walk to the front door and slip on my jacket and flats.

“Where’s Shane?” I interrogate him when I see he’s not in the car.

“Ahhh . . . stuck at the office.”

“Is that where we’re going?” I ask, aghast. You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to walk into that building, and Shane and Chase know it.

“No.”

Phew
.

“Then where are we going?” I slide into the front seat of Chase’s sleek black BMW.

“Surprise.” He shrugs a shoulder nonchalantly.

“Surprise? No hint, just
surprise.”

“Yes. Buckle up, pixie.”

Chase punches the ignition on and takes off.

I pepper him with whiny pleas for just a hint as to where we’re headed, but the man doesn’t give me an inch.

At a stoplight, he pulls a piece of cloth from his pocket. “Cover your eyes.” He hands me . . . a black satin tie?

“You’re kidding me, right?” I’m not amused. “You pulled me away from my homemade puff pastry and salmon pesto for a kinky sex game? We could have done this at home.”

“No, we couldn’t have. Now do it.” He leaves me no choice.

“God, you are so bossy tonight,” I gripe as I tie the material around my head.

“I like being the boss.” I hear the arrogance in his voice.

“We know.” I purse my lips.

Chase chuckles, a low sexy rumble in his chest. The sounds give me chills.

A few minutes later, we stop.

“Hang on.” I hear Chase’s door open and shut. A moment later, he’s helping me out of the car.

“Watch your step.”

I pause, craning my head. “Are you being serious right now?”

He laughs some more, no doubt at my expense.

The smell of the ocean is potent as he leads me to wherever the fuck we’re going.

I become insatiably curious as I hear cars and people all around me, while still following him blindly.
Like, literally.
We walk through what I think is a doorway before Chase voices, “Okay,” gripping both my biceps to stop me.

“Ready?” Shane startles me from behind.

“For what?” I can’t fathom what the two of them are up to.

“This.” Shane pulls off the blindfold. It takes a second for my eyes to focus in the bright, natural light. I look around the spacious room, confused. The decor is beachy with a contemporary flair. All whites and creams, with bleached wood floors, a thatched ceiling, and a huge chandelier made out of a school of stark-white paper fish. I spin slowly as I drink it all in. It’s understated, clean, breezy, and beautiful. Rustic but classy, with small accents of distressed wood signs hanging here and there, and a large vintage surfboard in one corner of the room.

“It was my vision.” Shane leans on the sleek, oak bar in one of his ridiculously expensive suits.

“Vision?”

“Yes, remember? When we had dinner at the Corkscrew that night, and we talked about remodeling it.”

I remember he wouldn’t divulge any details. “This is what you saw?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Whose is it? I mean, why are we here?”

“It’s yours. Ours. If you want it,” Shane reveals.

“What?”

“We leased the building, I designed the restaurant, and now, here we are.” Just as simple as that.

“You bought me a restaurant?” My stunned gaze jumps between them.

“Guilty,” Chase affirms.

Tears immediately pool in my eyes. I’m dumbfounded. Just completely mystified. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you love it. Say it makes you happy.” Shane crosses the room with purpose. “We know it’s not the Corkscrew, but maybe with time, you can love it just as much.”

I scan the beautiful room with blurry vision. The huge wall of windows showcasing the sparkling Atlantic is the perfect backdrop for the understated decor.

“I already love it.”

“You do?” Shane raises his eyebrows with a surprised look of elation.

“How could I not? It’s incredible.” I lose myself in the paper fish swimming over my head. Shane’s talent is immense. No wonder Ty traveled across the country and recruited him like a pit bull.

“There’s more.” Shane snatches my hand and drags me across the restaurant to a swinging door with a hole cut out. We enter the kitchen, and I’m blinded by the abundant amount of gleaming stainless steel.

“State of the art,” Shane boasts. “High-end everything. We didn’t spare one expense.”

My jaw is on the floor. This kitchen alone . . . The cost. Outrageous.

“I’m speechless.”

“Good. There’s one more thing.”

“There’s more?” I’m dragged still in shock out of the kitchen, through the dining room, along the bar, and past the hostess stand to another door tucked away in a nook with a sign that reads “Restricted.”

What the hell could possibly be in there? Shane punches a code on the keypad and the lock clicks. The three of us pass through the threshold into a stairwell, and I’m struck with a bout of déjà vu.

“Upstairs is your office,” Shane explains, “but this right here,”—he wraps his arms around me from behind—“is our space. The three of ours.”

“The stairwell?” I giggle.

“Mmm hmm . . .” Chase sits on the staircase directly in front of me and rubs his hand over the plush black rug. It looks more luxurious than a down comforter. “For when we want to have our dirty way with you during the dinner rush.”

I smile so hard my face hurts. I’m dazed, I’m in awe, and I’m completely blown away.

“It’s all so much. Are you sure you want to take on such a huge responsibility? Running a restaurant?” I have to know.

“You’ll be running the restaurant. We’ll be silent partners.” Chase lays out the plan.

“You trust me that much?” My voice raises an octave.

“You trust us that much, don’t you?” Chase takes my hands.

“Yes. Completely.” Both their grips get tighter at my confirmation.

“Then partners. Under one condition.”

“What’s that?” I ask warily. You never know when these two are up to no good.

“We serve Crown Royal and waffles.” Chase’s expression lights up like a mischievous child.

I laugh joyfully. My heart exploding with a fulfillment I never thought I’d know.

“I think I can arrange that,” I promise as something suddenly dawns on me. “What are we going to call it?”

Chase and Shane share that secretive look. “We were thinking . . . Trinity. But we weren’t sure how you were going feel about that,” Shane confesses.