Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
But tonight, we’re doing date night, and it’s very normal and traditional if you ask me. I’m standing before the stove in the kitchenette in the twins’ suite, cooking up a delicious meal of spaghetti Bolognese, with a side of tossed salad and crusty garlic bread. The aromatic red sauce simmers on the pan as I wait for the pasta to boil, a red and white checkered apron tied about my luscious curves.
Of course, this isn’t your average date night by a long shot. I’m with Brandon and Brent Coleman, virile alpha males, and as a result, my long blonde hair is up in a loose chignon with a few sexy wisps trailing around my ears. I’m wearing red stilettos while standing before the stove, and yes, you guessed it – my curves are fully nude beneath the frilly apron. The sides of my big breasts peek out from the fabric, and the checkered material leaves my behind bare and accessible to the men, should they choose to grab a luscious handful.
At that moment, Brandon and Brent open the door and step inside, dropping their football equipment by the entryway. Brandon lets out a low wolf whistle, immediately shutting the door behind them, while Brent adjusts himself and lets out a throaty moan.
“Shit baby, this is exactly what we need after practice. A hearty meal and a sassy dose of our favorite girl.”
I giggle while turning to look coquettishly at the twins over one slim shoulder.
“Dinner will be ready in a sec, boys. Why don’t you guys shower, and by the time you’re done, the pasta will be on the table.”
“Mmm, pasta,” Brandon growls before coming up behind me and dropping a kiss on my bare shoulder. “I love carbs.” Brent’s not far behind, and he palms my ass with a big hand before giving the luscious flesh a hard squeeze.
“Ooof!” I cry out in mock pain. “That hurt!”
“It did, but you love it,” he grins before seizing my mouth in a passionate kiss. “Fuck, you taste like honey, baby girl.”
I melt into his arms helplessly because these men always make me so needy. But then, a splatter of bubbling sauce lands on my arm and I pull back before swatting them away.
“You guys are so sweaty and gross!” I tease. “Get in the shower and let me finish my cooking, otherwise you’re not getting any food. It’ll be straight to bed without supper if you guys don’t get clean.”
The twins waggle their brows at me.
“Yeah, but maybe that’s what we want,” Brent growls.
“I wouldn’t mind taking you to bed right now,” Brandon adds, his big hand lifting the skirt of my apron to get a look at my gleaming puss. “Shit, she’s wet already.”
I merely waggle my hips before pushing the twins away again.
“Git!” I say with a smile. “And leave me alone to finish my cooking.”
The twins grin, as handsome as movie stars, before their broad forms disappear into their respective bathrooms. Yes, there are two bathrooms because the suite is built for two people to share, complete with individual beds, baths, and a communal common space. But the truth is that there are king-size mattresses in each bedroom, and usually the three of us sleep together each night, our limbs entwined, and their seed seeping from my body after multiple rounds of hard, penetrative sex. Yes, I’m a come receptacle for Brandon and Brent at this point, and I adore every second of being manhandled by the powerful athletes.
But Brandon and Brent are hungry and within minutes, my men are back in the kitchen, sitting while I serve the steaming pasta, green salad, and crusty garlic bread.
“This looks delicious, sweetheart,” Brent growls while breaking off a huge chunk of bread and swallowing it in one bite. “Holy fuck, that’s good.”
“The trick is extra butter,” I giggle while sitting at the table across from them. “Butter is my secret ingredient for making anything taste delicious. But are you supposed to be eating butter for peak athletic performance? Or does it affect your abilities?”
The twins shrug.
“A little butter isn’t going to kill anyone,” Brandon drawls while crunching into his own slice of garlic bread.
“Besides, we burn so many calories that part of the challenge is getting enough food into our gut,” Brent adds. “As athletes, we’re torching five to ten thousand calories a day, so a little butter could actually help us by providing additional fuel.”
I nod seriously.
“And the draft is soon, right? In the next few weeks?”
The twins nod, their expressions contemplative as they pause.
“It is, and we have something to ask you, sweetheart,” Brent growls while setting his fork down.
My heart pounds as my eyes go wide. Oh my god, what are they going to say? I know the draft is a big event, where players are usually accompanied by friends, family, and significant others. But it would be a huge step for us because we haven’t even gone public with our relationship yet. Is this the time? Is this what they’re getting at? My heart pounds as my two lovers gaze at me with piercing blue eyes.