Page 44 of Nailing Studs
“Hey, where’s my tongue? How come Logan and Taylor got some?” Dom groaned.
I went back to him and ran my tongue across his ear, down his lobe, ending with a bite of his lobe. The soft hairs on his arm stood straight up and his cock bulged through his jeans.
“My bad,” I laughed. “Fair is fair.”
I put an extra swing to my hips, feeling like a seductress with all the universe’s power over three hot men who all worked for me. Did my bidding. Sweat and toiled for me.
I basked in their attention that gave me never-before felt feelings of myself as a hot-as-fuck warrior woman. Who knew I had her inside of me? It made me sad to think I hadn’t discovered her earlier.
I’d turned a corner.
I enjoyed my attraction to them and the energy that pulsed between us all when we were together. Ironically, at the same time, I finally stopped obsessing about it and what was going to happen between us. Even when Dom had joked about not getting enough tongue, I hadn’t felt an ounce of worry or guilt. I’d loved the fact that I was keeping them on their toes.
When they left for the day, I followed routine and started to bake. I dug around in Tabitha’s old cookbooks and found a recipe for chocolate cake, one that contained rum and almonds. After making sure I could get the pilot light on the oven lit, I mixed up the batter, stuck the pan in the oven, then wandered around the house, gazing at some of the repairs the guys had already gotten done. In under a week, they’d made the downstairs walls look smooth again, fixing all the holes, painting, and adding wainscoting. The sun room shone extra bright with the new glass panels.
I’d noticed that as the work progressed and the house started to feel more and more like the house I remembered as a child, I felt more and more attached to it. Every fresh coat of paint or mended crown molding or replaced glass panel triggered a happy memory of tea parties, with me tottering about in Tabitha’s high heels or seated in a circle with my stuffed animals, or running barefoot in the long halls playing hide and seek, where I always picked the same spot in her closet among her eclectic collection of feathered boas. Tabitha always knew I was there and yet she never failed to make me feel like I was the sneakiest of hiders, despite my plenty loud enough giggles.
Not only was I feeling more and more of a connection with the old house, I was feeling more and more of a connection with Tabitha. I felt her presence around me, and I knew she would have been proud of me for taking risks, for living boldly, for finding happiness.
My favorite room of all was the sun room. Since it’d been my favorite room to spend time in with Tabitha, seeing it so bright and cheery brought tears to my eyes. All I had to do now was buy some new sitting room furniture and bookshelves, and I’d put all my books there and make it my special spot. I felt so grateful to the guys for putting extra special effort into this one particular space.
The only thing that slightly dampened my spirits was I couldn’t seem to find the coffee table that used to sit in the middle of the room. I remembered Tabitha giving me a pen to use to scratch my initials into it. I remembered telling her that was definitely not allowed. And I remembered her whispering that she would never tell a soul. Tabitha lived with no fear. None.
That coffee table had become a sort of symbol for my new life and I wanted to find it, but I’d searched the attic and the garage and nothing. Like so many other pieces of furniture from the house that I once remembered, it was gone.
But now the house looked so much more like the way I remembered it from my childhood—there was still plenty of work left, but the sparkle and shimmer I recalled was finding its way back into the house. Only now I had the added memories of Dom, Taylor, and Logan hanging around, men who focused their attention on me so intensely they made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
The timer dinged and I returned to the kitchen and pulled out the cake. While it cooled, I whipped up some chocolate and rum ganache. Once the cake’s temperature lowered, I spread the ganache over the top and breathed in the chocolate-y goodness before pouring myself a glass of pinot grigio. Dinner could wait.
I heard a knock on the door and startled, nearly spilling my wine. Maybe it was Dominic, finally ready to give us our private time together now that the house was at a good break point. But when I opened the door, I found myself faced with all three of them: Taylor, Dom, and Logan.
“Oh,” I gasped. Dom reached out and caught my glass of wine before I dropped it. “You’re here. All of you.”
Because it was after hours, they were showered, clean, and dressed to go out, each of them showing off their own unique style. As much as I loved them in jeans and no shirts, I loved them dressed and sexy just the same. One might call these outfits their I-want-to-look-as-hot-as-hell-to-increase-my-chances-of-getting-fucked-tonight outfits.
Well, the clothes were working.
A tidal wave of naughty fantasies flooded my mind. Looking at them instantly turned me into girl mush, and I felt shy and nervous again, but in the best of ways. The weak-knees way. And I knew. Knew what was going to happen tonight. I was so relieved and excited I almost couldn’t contain myself.
Shit, I thought, slightly embarrassed when I realized I was wearing nothing but a worn T-shirt and no bra and a pair of old boxers I’d stolen from an old boyfriend. I hadn’t put on an apron while baking so I had smears of chocolate across my T-shirt. My legs were bare and I was distinctly and utterly aware of how few clothes there were between them and me.
“You’ve been baking again,” Taylor murmured, as if that explained anything. Like the smell of my baked goods had lured them back like I was some Betty Crocker Pied Piper.
“Um yeah. Trying to, at least. I think this oven is on its last leg. Do you…do you want to come in and have a taste?” I bit my lip. Though I hadn’t meant it in a sexual way, now I didn’t care what they thought. I’d been wanting that taste for a week now.
“Don’t offer unless you’re willing to let us,” Dominic said with that dark gaze of his.
“I don’t make offers I don’t back up,” I tossed casually over my shoulder, waggling my fingers for them to follow me into the foyer. It was game time, though I wish I’d known they were coming so I could’ve gone upstairs to get ready. “You guys make yourselves at home while I go shower. Help yourself to the cake. I’ll be right back.”
Running upstairs, I made quick work of showering, but took extra time shaving, slathering on body lotion afterward to seal in the moisture on my skin. If this was going to happen, I wanted to be on my A Game just like they were for me. After blow-drying my hair and changing into a sweet summer sundress, I headed back downstairs. But not before I slipped off the panties I’d donned after the shower.
I had plans that panties would only get in the way of.
“Hey, the baking goddess returns,” Logan said, smiling. He looked good enough to eat.
“Did you guys have any cake?”
“We did,” Taylor said. “We sampled it without you. Hope that was okay.”