A shudder rippled through her as Vincent slid a hand up her inner thigh, slowing torturously as he neared the spot that ached so fiercely she couldn’t help but moan. “I need…”
Against her lips, James whispered, “I know. Us, too.” He took her now-empty wineglass from her and set it in the corner. Then he sat up and squeezed a bath sponge under the water and poured a dollop of the bodywash onto it and squeezed until the lavender-scented lather billowed around his hands.
“Stand for us, doll,” Vincent whispered, as he assisted her in that endeavor. “Let us bathe you. Let us see you.”
She took to her feet, rather shakily, and watched as their eyes skimmed over her damp skin, seeing her everywhere.
“Like silk,” James whispered as he rubbed the sponge all over her torso in gentle but efficient strokes.
“Perfect,” Vincent murmured, as he took the other sponge, lathered it, and slid it up the front of her thigh while bracing the back of her leg with his other hand. Each swipe with the sponge corresponded to a touch that went higher and higher until finally the sponge delved between her legs and his other hand cupped one of her ass cheeks and his fingertips skimmed the sensitive flesh between.
Hot slippery moisture pooled from her pussy and his touch sparked awareness in her ass as well, which she’d never experienced before. The overall effect increased the aching hunger for them growing inside her. A moan escaped her and the sound was decidedly erotic. He kept at the job, stroking, scrubbing, and washing her until she was in such a heightened state she worried that one more touch would make her explode and she would be good for nothing else the rest of the evening. That would be disappointing for them.
They stood on either side of her and while she watched, they made quick work of bathing themselves, denying her when she offered to help.
James kissed her cheek and said, “No, honey. I’m afraid I’ll go off like a rocket if you do.”
Leah looked up at Vincent and he shook his head, but instead of offering an excuse, he leaned down and kissed her. She’d expected him to be the more forceful of the two but his touch was gentle. He placed his hand at her throat and stroked her jaw with his thumb, getting suds on her while he kissed her and nibbled at her lips until she giggled. When he pulled away, she saw the satisfaction in his eyes. Was he purposely trying to keep the moment light? It was working.
James dunked the small container in the water that had been standing beside the bath products and she realized it was a little bucket. He lifted it and poured the water over her shoulders, rinsing the slippery suds from her body and then doing the same for himself before handing it off to Vincent.
Climbing from the tub, James opened a towel for her, wrapped it around her shoulders, and then lifted her from the water. The wine gave her a slight buzz, but she was grateful for the relaxation it and the hot bath had afforded. All the reasons she’d held them at arm’s length fled from her mind. She wanted to make love with them. That much she knew with certainty.
Once on the mat, he dried her and then handed the towel to Vincent as he climbed from the tub. She smiled at the unspoken intimacy of sharing the towel with them and followed James into the other room.
The faint tropical fragrance of coconut scented the air and the light of many small flames flickered against the log walls. Vincent tidied the bathroom, which also brought a smile to her face, while James turned down the comforter and sheets on the bed. She had an appreciation for tidiness.
She paused in front of a bookshelf and looked at the pictures and service medals displayed. There was a picture of the three brothers that had probably been taken on the day they graduated from the police academy. She didn’t linger on the photograph, didn’t obsess over Patterson’s absence, telling herself he was there, in her heart. A folded flag was also displayed in a shadow box and she surmised that it must’ve been the same one that had covered his casket.
Family pictures from fishing and hunting trips were also displayed, and even some from when they’d been much younger, perhaps junior high, judging by the age of the photos and the clothing they wore. It made her smile to think of them at a more tender age. Even as a youth, she could see the devilish teasing in Patterson’s eyes in one photo as he held up a catfish he must’ve caught. The aroused ache inside her sharpened, both for the men who wanted her, but also for the man she’d never know as intimately.
Warm fingers clasped with hers and she looked up into Vincent’s eyes. He glanced at the pictures and said, “He would be glad you’re here and he wouldn’t want you dwelling on what can’t be changed, doll.”