Hotter Than Ever (Out of Uniform) (22 page)

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Dylan had drained his coffee and was sliding off his stool. He strode toward the dishwasher and opened the door, then bent over to place his empty cup in the tray.

I want you in my ass.

Dylan’s desperate plea to Aidan echoed in her mind, and a hot shiver scurried up her spine. Oh God, the way he was bending over like that, his ass hugged by those camo pants… But there’d been nothing covering that ass last night, not unless you counted Aidan’s muscular thighs pressed up against Dylan’s buttocks as Aidan’s cock slammed into—

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Aidan inquired in a gratingly cheerful voice.

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“If you say so.”

But she was the furthest thing from
fine
. Now that she’d allowed that one memory in, the rest were buzzing in her head like a swarm of bees.

Aidan on his knees, his lips stretched around Dylan’s cock.

Dylan begging to be taken.

Aidan taking him.

Both of them coming.

The whole scene had replayed in her dreams last night, the filthiest, sexiest, raunchiest dreams she’d ever had in her life. She’d woken up between each one, panting, sweating, quivering from what she suspected had been actual orgasms. And each dream had ended the same way—with Dylan’s green eyes burning with ecstasy as he held her gaze and orgasmed.

God, he’d
seen
her. He’d seen her standing there, and yet he hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t sought her out last night, wasn’t mentioning it this morning.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“All right, we’re taking off.” Aidan’s voice jolted her back to the present. “Call my cell if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” She kept her gaze firmly on her empty cereal bowl.

As they shuffled toward the doorway, Claire couldn’t believe she’d made it through the entire exchange without a single look in their direction. She was about to give herself a mental pat on the back when Dylan’s silky voice drifted her way.

“Hey, Claire?”

Her head lifted involuntarily, causing the accidental meeting of their eyes.

“Yeah?” she said warily.

“You were moaning in your sleep last night.” Chuckling, Dylan sauntered out of the kitchen.

 

 

“Who do you think would win in a fight, Costner’s Robin Hood or Crowe’s?” Aidan stretched his legs out and absently glanced at the TV, which was playing the Russell Crowe version of the aforementioned film.

Dylan was lying on the other couch, his head propped up by a throw pillow. “That’s a trick question,” he said immediately. “The real winner would be Cary Elwes’s Robin Hood from
Men in Tights
.”

Aidan burst out laughing. “Why?”

“Duh. Because he speaks with a British accent.” In an impressive move, Dylan recited the line
in
a British accent.

“Shit, that’s actually a badass British accent, bro.”

“I know, right?”

They turned their attention back to the screen, but Aidan wasn’t particularly interested in the movie. He was too busy wondering what Claire was doing in Dylan’s bedroom. She’d been hiding away all night, same way she’d done last night, and the night before, and the night before that.

He had to give her credit—the woman had successfully managed to avoid them for three days now, a damn near impossible feat considering they were living in the same condo.

Aidan knew all about Claire’s initiation into the wonderful world of voyeurism, and damn, he wished he’d gotten to see her face that night. Dylan insisted she’d liked everything she’d seen, and judging by the blush that had graced her cheeks ever since, Aidan suspected his roommate was right.

“She’s only got a week and a half of vacation time left,” he murmured.

“I know.” Dylan sounded as glum as Aidan felt.

“I don’t want her to go.” The confession slipped out before he could stop it.

“Me neither.”

They fell silent again, watching the movie with mutual disinterest.

When he heard soft footsteps a few minutes later, Aidan’s heart did an involuntary flip. He eagerly sat up just as Claire stepped into the living room, but his rising excitement plummeted the moment he saw her face.

“What’s wrong?” he said instantly.

Looking pale, she focused her gaze not on Aidan, but Dylan. “If I ask you something, do you promise to give me an honest answer?”

Concern filled Dylan’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Just promise.”

“I promise. Now what is it, honey?”

“Did you know Chris was having an affair?”

Aidan had not been expecting
that
. Neither had Dylan, because the man’s jaw dropped in shock.

“What?”

Claire walked over to the armchair and sat down with a miserable expression. “Did you know?”

“Of course not.” Dylan shook his head, looking flabbergasted. “What do you mean, Chris was having an affair?”

“I don’t know for sure, but that’s what the evidence suggests.”

“What evidence?” Dylan asked sharply.

She sighed. “I was on Facebook messaging a few friends from college, you know, just passing the time, and I was looking at some of their pictures. This one friend—well, more of an acquaintance, really—she’s a lawyer and she posted some pics of this charity event that took place a few months ago. Chris attended, but I couldn’t go, so he went alone. He’s in one of the pictures, looking pretty cozy with this skinny blonde who has her arm around his waist.”

“That doesn’t mean they were having an affair,” Aidan pointed out.

“I’m not done,” she said tersely. “So the blonde in the picture was tagged—her name’s Stephanie Lowenstein, and she’s a mutual Facebook friend of mine and Lisa’s, my lawyer friend. So I clicked on Stephanie’s profile.”

Aidan’s stomach clenched. Shit, he didn’t like where this was going.

“Her privacy settings are nonexistent, which means I was able to look at everything on her timeline. Including her pictures.”

“Aw, fuck,” Dylan swore. “My brother was in some of them?”

“In a lot of them, at least the most recent ones.” Claire’s mouth set in a tight line. “She’s in London with him right now. And she was in Aruba with him last week.”

Dead silence crashed over the room.

On the other couch, Dylan’s face went from shocked, to stricken, to downright furious.

“Are you serious?” he demanded.

“As a heart attack. And these pictures were
a lot
more cozy than the one from the party.”

“That fucking bastard. What the
hell
is my brother thinking?”

“Probably that he’s hit the jackpot. This woman is obviously related to Frank Lowenstein, the senior partner at Chris’s firm. She’s probably his daughter, which means she’s not only loaded, but has crazy connections and a membership to that stupid country club, and she probably comes with a million other perks Chris would appreciate.”

Claire shoved a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I can’t believe him. I mean, I have to assume he was involved with her before the wedding, right? You don’t go away with someone unless the two of you have some sort of previous involvement, or at least a flirtation, right?”

Dylan let out a breath. “Yeah, I’d say they were most likely involved.”

Biting her lip, she looked down at the hands she’d clasped in her lap. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. It’s just…fuck, call me a loser, but it’s an ego thing, I guess. I’ve never been cheated on before, and I hate the idea that someone found another woman more desirable than me. Even if that someone is Chris.” Her head lifted abruptly, her brown eyes seeking out Aidan’s, then Dylan’s. “You think I’m desirable, right?”

Aidan barked out an incredulous laugh. “Are you kidding me? You’re the most desirable woman on the goddamn planet.”

“Hands down,” Dylan confirmed.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Aidan patted the couch cushion next to him. “C’mere.”

She hesitated.

“Claire. Don’t make me pick you up and carry you here,” he warned.

She must have known he’d totally follow through on that threat, because she got off the armchair and joined him on the couch.

Aidan took her hand and dragged his thumb over her knuckles. “We’re not saying what you want to hear in order to make you feel better. And you know what? Forget feeling better—you have absolutely no reason to be upset in the first place. Chris is an ass—” He glanced at Dylan “No offense, man.”

“None taken.”

“—And he doesn’t get the right to put that sad look in your eyes,” Aidan finished. “Let him have his Stephanie Lowenstein. I’m sure they deserve each other. You, on the other hand, deserve way better.”

Hopping off the couch, Dylan marched over and settled on the other side of her. He reached for her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You deserve the best,” he declared. “You, Claire McKinley, deserve to be worshipped.”

She smiled. “You guys are too sweet.”

They both shrugged modestly.

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “You’re the sweetest, kindest, most amazing men I have ever met.”

“You don’t have to shower us with compliments,” Dylan said with a grin. “We’re already putty in your hands, honey. Case in point—that god-awful tree over there.”

“He’s right,” Aidan agreed ruefully. “I mean, for us to even allow such a monstrosity into our home says a lot about—”

She cut him off with a kiss.

Claire’s lips were soft, warm, sweeter than honey. She kissed him tenderly, with only the fleeting brush of tongue, and before he could even react, she was gone. Shifting around and bestowing that same loving kiss on Dylan’s lips.

“What was that for?” Dylan murmured.

“Just felt like it.” Smiling, she got to her feet, her hands toying with the bottom of her bright yellow T-shirt. “So I was thinking…”

Hope erupted in Aidan’s chest, but he refused to acknowledge it. Not until Claire made her intentions clear.

And she made those intentions crystal clear by pulling her shirt over her head and then wiggling out of her leggings.

Aidan’s breath lodged in his throat. Her skimpy white bra barely covered her full breasts, and the matching panties were nothing but a little triangle with two thin straps. She was beautiful. Stunning. Extraordinary. There weren’t enough adjectives in the English language to describe the vision of female perfection standing in front of them.

Lord, her bare skin looked so soft to the touch. He wanted to run his fingers all over that silky feminine flesh, but he resisted the urge, awaiting her next move.

“Claire, you don’t have to…” Dylan trailed off, his green eyes glued to the curves she’d put on display.

Aidan picked up where the other man left off. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he said gruffly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. If this is about wanting to feel desirable, then you’ve already got your answer.”

A little smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “Actually, this is about me wanting to be worshipped.”

Aidan exchanged a look with Dylan, who seemed equally apprehensive. Neither of them wanted her to do something she truly didn’t feel comfortable doing.

“You said that’s what I deserved, right?” Raising a brow, she glanced at each of them in challenge.

“Yes,” Dylan said.

“Then prove it, because if I ever needed to be worshipped, it’s right now.”

Without waiting for an answer, she began walking away, drawing both their gazes to her perfect ass. She halted when she was halfway to the corridor, reached around to unhook her bra, then tossed the lacy garment in their direction.

Keeping her back to them, she peeked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “You boys coming, or what?”

They exchanged another look.

And then they dove off the couch and raced after her.

 

Claire’s heart was beating perilously fast as she entered Aidan’s bedroom. Her hands shook with both excitement and nervousness, but she tried not to focus on the latter. Because she wanted this.

God, she really,
really
wanted this.

And it had nothing to do with the discovery that Chris had brought another woman on what should have been their honeymoon. She didn’t have feelings for Chris anymore, at least not this latest version of him. Or rather, the man he’d been all along but she’d been too blind to see it. The Chris who wanted to work in the prosecutor’s office and who liked taking her dancing didn’t exist. The real Chris didn’t deserve her, and he’d played no role in her decision to give in to Dylan and Aidan.

She couldn’t avoid the truth any longer—she had feelings for them both. She desired them both.

And she wanted both of them to fuck her.

The two men walked into the room without a word. She’d left the light off, and neither man made a move to flick the switch. They just stood there in the darkness, shadows dancing on their respectively handsome faces, making this entire encounter feel so very dirty.

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