“You couldn’t anyway. We’ve already discussed this at length, Morgan. Blake and I are too busy for a committed relationship. What woman would be happy with either of us?”
“Oh, I get it. Separately, you’re bound to fail at pleasing a woman. Together, you can offer a gal everything she hopes to find in one man.” She shook her head. “Only instead of one, I’m forced to accommodate two?”
“That’s right,” Blake replied. “Believe me when I tell you, I don’t think you’ll view us as an imposition.”
“No,” Grant said, a dry chuckle leaving his lips. “We’re hardly asking you for a personal sacrifice.”
“You’ll be taken care of at all times,” Blake said, offering another round of reassurance.
“I need to lie down.”
“Not until you give us an answer,” Grant remarked.
“I can’t give you one until I think about it.”
“You have less than a minute,” Grant informed her, looking at his watch. “Starting now.”
Morgan felt like she was being backed in a corner. She wasn’t sure why they were doing this, but she was pretty clear on what they wanted from her. They were after her body. They wanted sex, both of them, at the same time. What the hell was that?
She compared men. Grant was the epitome of a cocksure cowboy. He possessed a dark and mysterious confidence, the kind of attitude a woman wasn’t sure she loved or hated. He’d changed considerably since he’d lost his brother. His natural smile, always indented with dimples, made him easy on a woman’s eyes, but underneath the outer layers lived a man she didn’t know.
Grant wore his hair off his face, pulled back in a ponytail. He had layers of curls when he released the rubber band, and she remembered all too well how much she loved running her fingers through the soft locks.
Blake, on the other hand, was tall, dark, and handsome, not quite as intimidating as Grant. Then again, Blake had known her since she was a small child. He often treated her like one, not that she minded. She remembered the way he’d loved and adored her, careful to give her a gentle kiss and an easy touch. Blake and Grant ruined her for all other men.
Why then was it so hard to imagine the two of them taking her to bed?
Her nipples throbbed as she considered the possibilities. The loving would undoubtedly be incredible, second to none. Her pussy clenched. But how could this work? She was so small in comparison to one of them, much less two.
Morgan took a deep breath and considered the facts. Kilo was coming after her. He would find her when she was the weakest, and he would kill her unless she had someone to stop him.
She studied the only two men she’d ever loved and thought of the looming dangers. Kit and Kemper wouldn’t be back for at least a week. She didn’t want to stay by herself while she awaited their homecoming. Then again, she didn’t want to place Blake and Grant in the line of fire just because of the choices she made.
“I can’t do this,” she blurted out without further consideration. “You might get hurt.”
“I don’t think so,” Grant said, winking. “I haven’t met a dog yet that I can’t put down if the notion strikes me.”
“Either you want to get better or you don’t,” Blake told her gently. “If you do, we have a fail-proof way to ensure you’re protected. You won’t return to the drugs. You won’t see Kilo again. And you’ll be back to feeling like yourself sooner than you might think.”
“Why are you doing this again?”
“She’s stalling,” Grant muttered. “Come on, Blake. We can’t help her if she’s unwilling to help herself.”
“Wait!” she exclaimed as they turned to walk away. “I’ll do it.”
They didn’t wait for her to change her mind, and they didn’t ask her if she was sure. Instead, they swapped one of those knowing stares men often share.
Then, they pursued her.
* * * *
“What happened to the nap you promised me?” Morgan asked as Blake secured her arms, binding her hands to the bedposts.
“You said you needed to lie down. We said as soon as you gave us an answer, you could. Did we tell the truth or not?”
She set her jaw. “I’m not well enough for this.”
“You’re not sick,” Grant said. “That’s what used to drive me insane about my brother. In his final days, he acted as if he were terminally ill. Yes, you are unwell because you have a drug problem. Yes, you’re an addict. But you aren’t terminally ill. You aren’t dying, and if you were ever in any immediate danger, it was when you were detoxing by yourself. You survived that. You’ll survive anything.”