Page 42 of Nailing Studs

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Page 42 of Nailing Studs

Later that day, Taylor and Dom finished up and headed off, but not before finding me and both giving me warm, strong hugs. I hadn’t wanted to let go. The muscles in Dom’s arms bunched when he held me tight, and Taylor nuzzled my neck and blew a wisp of hair off my forehead before he let me go. God, they made me hot. I’d thought about inviting them to stay, telling them I’d make them dinner, but Dom had made it clear he and Taylor were headed out. It was as if he knew the arrival of Logan into our midst had created a new dynamic and we all needed some time to sort stuff out, him most of all.

After I ate dinner alone, I headed up to my room where I fiddled on the computer, propped up in the bed, still rumpled from where Taylor and I had romped and then slept all night long. But my mind had one direction and one direction only. I closed the laptop and slid under the sheets to inhale the scent of him left over from the night before. Sliding my hand down between my legs, I became lost in the fantasy of not just Taylor and me, but the four of us—me, Taylor, Dom, and Logan—all of us together, in this room, their hands all over me, their bodies warmer than the sunlight.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, my Fix-It Guys focused on what they did best, fixing up my house (okay, that was debatable). They weren’t ignoring me. Dom and Taylor stayed flirty and friendly. Dom, in particular, smiled at me and gave me an affectionate shoulder squeeze and a cute slap on the ass every once in a while. I finally figured out he was making an effort to let me know things were okay between us—no hard feelings about me having been with Taylor first, or me obviously having been attracted to Logan. I still felt as if he was holding a part of himself back, but I was determined to give him the time he needed to open up to me fully, just like he and Taylor had been so good about giving me time and space to make my decision about them.

My patience paid off, big time.

One afternoon, after the guys had had a particularly grueling time trying to replace the outdated electrical panel and running into some roadblocks, Dom stopped me in the hall, caged me in with his arms on either side of my head, and slowly, slowly gave me our very first kiss. It was like being on one of those rides at the fair that go round and round so fast you think you’re going to fly off. I’d been hectically alternating between cleaning out an old closet and putting stuff away in the house when suddenly, all of time slowed down. The ride went to slow-mo, and in the middle of it was a delicious mesh of warm mouths and tongues to make the stress of the last several days all worth it.

I wanted so bad for him to pick me up like he’d done that day in the loft and take me to my room for more, but it’d only been a sweet break for him.

“I’ll want more of that later,” he told me before heading back downstairs to work on the panel.

But after that kiss, I couldn’t quench the fire he’d ignited in my body, and I didn’t want to interrupt their workflow either, so I went upstairs and took care of myself. I did it with the door cracked open, too, knowing full well that he and Taylor would hear what I was doing. I was right, because when I was done, gasping for breath from the intensity of my climax, I looked up and saw Dom leaning against the doorway, his gaze intense and raw, his teeth biting his lip. I was mostly under the covers, so all he could see was one leg sticking out the side and maybe a bra strap falling over my shoulder. We hadn’t seen each other naked yet, and I didn’t want this to be the way. I’d only wanted to entice him to make sure he came back for that “more” he’d promised.

I managed to croak out a “Hey,” and was about to invite him to join me on the bed even though I was drained from my orgasm.

But he palmed his bulging erection, and said, “Damn, Kayla, that was hot. Glad I was able to inspire that for you. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He winked, then walked away.

I heard Taylor burst into laughter somewhere in the house, and then I collapsed back on the bed with a huge smile. This was our new normal, and I had to admit—I was starting to really love it.

* * *

As the days continued to pass, Dom and Taylor made it a point to kiss me often. It was a little strange at first, alternating between the sweet and sexy tastes of two different men’s mouths, but soon it became second nature. Taylor would pin me against the wall and run his hands up my body so they’d curl around my breasts while he kissed me deeply. Dom would catch me from behind and press his cock up against me. Each time, they’d let me go, teasing me, making me wet for more.

They were experts at this tag team thing.

Best of all, they gave me the smallest taste of what I could have if the three of us had sex together.

And as the guys worked on my house and flirted, I found myself settling into Fosterman. I acquainted myself with the downtown area, the running trail that was nearby (though I walked it, not ran), and even splurged on a new outfit for my upcoming interview. The men didn’t take up my every waking moment anymore, and I felt free to use my time in other ways.

Still, I poured more and more energy into baking, not for the boys, but for myself. Because baking reminded me of summers with Tabitha, of my childhood, of freedom and happy days. Even though they were the only ones besides myself who actually tasted my creations, one would think I was trying to woo them with baked goods as a promise of our future sexual exploits. But that was just a happy consequence of doing what I loved. Suddenly, everything I was doing in Fosterman seemed like I was doing it because it made me happy, not because it was required as part of a mindless routine I’d gotten used to, like my life in New York had been.

* * *

Four days after Logan had stopped by for breakfast, I was in the kitchen, whipping up some almond blondies. All my near “sex-periences” with Dom and Taylor had piqued my interest and hunger in more ways than one. I wanted something sweet and rich, and I wanted it now. And if the guys were going to continue to tease me, I had to make my own deliciousness. Almond blondies would have to do.

Suddenly I felt Dom’s arms curling around my shoulders from behind me. He tugged at my hair and pressed his mouth to my neck as I stood at the counter. Then, I felt Taylor on my other side, turning me to face him, taking the spatula from my hand and licking the blondie batter before kissing me deeply. Our kiss turned so hot, he reached down and felt the heat between my legs, looked at Dom holding me from behind.

“I think these cookies are almost ready,” Taylor said, chuckling.

“These cookies were ready days ago,” I told them. In fact, these “cookies” had been ready to be eaten on the first day the guys had started work. But I understood what they were doing. They were making things irresistible between us, and I couldn’t blame them. Still, when they backed away yet again, leaving me hot, dripping wet, and wanting, I’d finally had enough. The next time I had my hands on them, I vowed, I would not be letting them go until they’d fucked me good and hard.

The next morning, however, Logan dropped by. Dom and Taylor must have let him in, because I was in my room, focused on my upcoming interview, writing mock-ups of articles I thought the magazine could use to illustrate my talents, when I heard a cough at my door. I stopped what I was doing the minute Logan popped his head into my room. We ended up chatting for an hour over cake and lemonade. He thanked me with a kiss so very near my lips and did what the other men had been doing: he walked away. I was too disoriented by him having been added to the mix to protest when Dom and Taylor left for the night after each kissing the breath out of me.

* * *

Logan came back the very next day.

I never could’ve imagined it, but I loved talking to him. When I met him, I thought he was all slick and shark-y. Once I got to know him, I learned that we had a lot in common. Both of us had had career failures that had set us back—Logan had started out in finance but he’d found his true passion in real estate.

Hearing his story gave me hope that maybe I’d find a true career calling, too. My interview was in a couple of days, but I was already having some concerns about taking the job if they offered it to me. The pay wasn’t as great as I’d hoped for, and I was growing tired of writing about someone else’s cooking—I wanted to be the cook. Talking to Logan had me rethinking my trajectory. Here I’d come to Fosterman to find myself—what was I finding?

Logan had something in common with Taylor and Dom, too, besides sharing women. He’d worked construction to put himself through college, and he loved working with power tools and with his hands. He was just telling me about it when Taylor and Dom walked into the kitchen. Taylor leaned against the door jamb while Dom grabbed a drink from the fridge then leaned back against it.

“Hey,” I said. “Logan was just telling me how he did some construction during college. Did you ever work together?”




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