you and Brandon haven’t found your mates yet?”
“Oh, we have,” said Clint huskily.
Irrational jealousy made her meet his eyes. “And she’s okay with you kissing other women and bringing them into your home?” Josie couldn’t believe she blurted that out loud.
“You tell me,” he retorted.
What? Josie looked at him blankly, not understanding, but when the lightbulb went off—oh my god, I think he’s talking about me—she ducked her head again. She kept quiet after that, finishing her meal as she mulled over what she’d learned, even more confused than before. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he implied I am his mate. But that’s impossible because I’m not a werewolf.
She helped Clint stack the dishes in the washer while Brandon started a fire in the hearth. There was one couch facing the dancing flames, and when Clint and Brandon took a seat at either end, she debated sitting in the middle, but her nervousness returned, and she, instead, knelt on the rug with her back to them.
Their synchronized chuckle sent shivers down her spine, and moisture formed in her cleft. Even though she’d found herself alone with them since their departure of her place, she now noticed just how alone they were. Me, my absent cat, and two big, bad wolves. It was a recipe for pleasure, if she could find the courage to take what they offered.
“Baby,” whispered Clint’s voice right beside her ear. She jumped, for she hadn’t heard him move. “Why are you fighting it? We can smell your desire.”
Josie wrinkled her nose as she blushed. “That’s kind of gross.”
Brandon’s soft laughter fluttered her hair around her other ear. Someone should put bells on them so I can hear them coming.
“Little mouse, the things we want to do with you are far from gross, but they might be sticky, hot, and, I promise you, pleasurable.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me,” she blurted out, unable to look them in the face and even more unable to stop the heat from spreading throughout her body.
“We want you,” answered Clint.
“By we , I assume you want to share me? Swap me back and forth like some trading card?”
“Well, we could take turns, I guess,” said Brandon, nuzzling her lobe. “But wouldn’t it be more fun if we both took care of you at once?”
Unbidden, an image of both men, touching her, pleasing her at the same time, arose in her mind. Her breath caught, and she could not stop the blush that burned her skin nor the moisture that slicked her cleft.
Clint trailed kisses along her jaw. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Human or not, you’re our mate, and we want you.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice high-pitched as she fought the pleasurable sensations.
“We want to mark you, claim you as ours.”
“You mean bite?” she squeaked.
“Just a little nibble. We’d be in human form,” Clint said to reassure her. “There’d be no danger to your humanity.”
“But won’t it hurt?” Josie couldn’t believe they were even having the conversation. Welcome to the twilight zone, where hunky men are werewolves who want to bite you and claim you as mate.
Brandon purred in her ear. “By the time we bite you, you’ll be riding our cocks, caught in the throes of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced.”
Josie’s breath caught in her throat as he vocalized her fantasy of a moment ago. Did he read my mind? “But . . .” The protest in her mouth died. Actually, it was captured by Clint’s mouth. While he caressed her parted lips, Brandon stroked the sensitive flesh behind her ear with his tongue. As sensual assaults went, she surrendered with their first attack.
She didn’t protest when they laid her down on the carpet. On either side, their male bodies pressed against her, the hardness of their desire poking into her sides. Josie kept her hands to herself, overwhelmed and unsure what she should do.
Her body knew what it wanted, though, and it
“Oh, we have,” said Clint huskily.
Irrational jealousy made her meet his eyes. “And she’s okay with you kissing other women and bringing them into your home?” Josie couldn’t believe she blurted that out loud.
“You tell me,” he retorted.
What? Josie looked at him blankly, not understanding, but when the lightbulb went off—oh my god, I think he’s talking about me—she ducked her head again. She kept quiet after that, finishing her meal as she mulled over what she’d learned, even more confused than before. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he implied I am his mate. But that’s impossible because I’m not a werewolf.
She helped Clint stack the dishes in the washer while Brandon started a fire in the hearth. There was one couch facing the dancing flames, and when Clint and Brandon took a seat at either end, she debated sitting in the middle, but her nervousness returned, and she, instead, knelt on the rug with her back to them.
Their synchronized chuckle sent shivers down her spine, and moisture formed in her cleft. Even though she’d found herself alone with them since their departure of her place, she now noticed just how alone they were. Me, my absent cat, and two big, bad wolves. It was a recipe for pleasure, if she could find the courage to take what they offered.
“Baby,” whispered Clint’s voice right beside her ear. She jumped, for she hadn’t heard him move. “Why are you fighting it? We can smell your desire.”
Josie wrinkled her nose as she blushed. “That’s kind of gross.”
Brandon’s soft laughter fluttered her hair around her other ear. Someone should put bells on them so I can hear them coming.
“Little mouse, the things we want to do with you are far from gross, but they might be sticky, hot, and, I promise you, pleasurable.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me,” she blurted out, unable to look them in the face and even more unable to stop the heat from spreading throughout her body.
“We want you,” answered Clint.
“By we , I assume you want to share me? Swap me back and forth like some trading card?”
“Well, we could take turns, I guess,” said Brandon, nuzzling her lobe. “But wouldn’t it be more fun if we both took care of you at once?”
Unbidden, an image of both men, touching her, pleasing her at the same time, arose in her mind. Her breath caught, and she could not stop the blush that burned her skin nor the moisture that slicked her cleft.
Clint trailed kisses along her jaw. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Human or not, you’re our mate, and we want you.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice high-pitched as she fought the pleasurable sensations.
“We want to mark you, claim you as ours.”
“You mean bite?” she squeaked.
“Just a little nibble. We’d be in human form,” Clint said to reassure her. “There’d be no danger to your humanity.”
“But won’t it hurt?” Josie couldn’t believe they were even having the conversation. Welcome to the twilight zone, where hunky men are werewolves who want to bite you and claim you as mate.
Brandon purred in her ear. “By the time we bite you, you’ll be riding our cocks, caught in the throes of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced.”
Josie’s breath caught in her throat as he vocalized her fantasy of a moment ago. Did he read my mind? “But . . .” The protest in her mouth died. Actually, it was captured by Clint’s mouth. While he caressed her parted lips, Brandon stroked the sensitive flesh behind her ear with his tongue. As sensual assaults went, she surrendered with their first attack.
She didn’t protest when they laid her down on the carpet. On either side, their male bodies pressed against her, the hardness of their desire poking into her sides. Josie kept her hands to herself, overwhelmed and unsure what she should do.
Her body knew what it wanted, though, and it
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