He bore down on those long fingers and pleasure jolted through him, but he knew this didn’t feel half as good as the sensation of being filled by this man.
“I swear to God, man, if you don’t shove your dick inside me right now I’m gonna kick your—”
Aidan plunged in with one fluid stroke.
The threat died on Dylan’s lips and his head damn near exploded from that deep, erotic intrusion. Oh sweet Jesus. Aidan’s c**k was buried in his ass, and it felt so criminally good he almost blacked out.
And that was before the other man began to move—once Aidan started ramming into him with hard, fast strokes, Dylan’s surroundings faded away, his entire world reduced to a haze of pleasure and the sound of flesh slapping flesh.
“Love f**king you,” Aidan mumbled, digging his fingers into Dylan’s hips.
Dylan buckled back, meeting him thrust for thrust, growling when Aidan drove even deeper and faster. The dresser shook and smacked against the wall. Their ragged breathing heated the air.
“You wanna come, don’t you?” Aidan reached around and gripped Dylan’s erection in his fist. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
A groan choked out. “Yes.”
“Good, because I wanna feel your hot come on my hand when I blow my load inside you. Do it now, man.”
That was all it took, the harsh command, the rough pump of Aidan’s hand on his dick. The climax boiled in his balls, but just before it could spill over, a flash of movement crossed Dylan’s peripheral vision.
He turned his head and that’s when he saw her. Standing there watching. Rosy-red lips parted, cheeks flushed, br**sts rising and falling with each shallow breath.
Their eyes locked and Dylan exploded like a Fourth of July fireworks display, the pleasure searing his balls before shooting out in all directions, seizing every muscle in his body. Hot jets sprayed into Aidan’s hand, which instantly made the other man lose control.
“Oh f**k, coming. Coming inside your ass, man.” Breathing hard, Aidan rested his forehead on Dylan’s shoulder and trembled in release, his c**k throbbing in Dylan’s tight channel.
Dylan’s gaze never left Claire’s. Her brown eyes blazed with molten heat as they stared at each other.
Maybe he should have felt embarrassed that she’d witnessed him being dominated this way, but he didn’t. He only felt exhilarated and sated.
He tilted his head slightly, offering her an unspoken invitation.
Join us.
A second passed. Two. Three.
And then she broke the eye contact and stumbled off.
He didn’t feel an ounce of disappointment as Claire disappeared in the shadows, because even though she’d fled just now, there was no doubt in his mind she’d be back.
He’d seen the hunger in her eyes. He’d felt it. Claire McKinley was going to be theirs, all right.
Hell, she already was.
She just didn’t know it yet.
When Claire entered the kitchen early the next morning, she made a conscious and diligent effort not to meet the eyes of the two men sipping their coffees at the kitchen counter.
Nope, wasn’t going to look at them. As long as she avoided all visual contact, she would be just fine and fully capable of acting like she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary last night.
“Morning,” Aidan said lightly.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” Dylan piped up.
“Morning,” she murmured again.
There. She’d managed to greet them both without making eye contact.
She opened the fridge, taking an extra long time rummaging through it even though the carton of milk she wanted was right there on the middle shelf. The frigid air was a relief, blasting her scorching cheeks and cooling her down. God, she didn’t think she’d stopped blushing since the moment she’d crept up to Aidan’s door and seen—
Nothing. You saw nothing.
She snatched the milk carton, then walked over to the cabinets above the counter to find a bowl. Except the cupboard was a good five inches out of reach, forcing her to get on her tiptoes and stick her arm up in a strained effort to connect with the handle.
Out of nowhere, Aidan came up behind her, his lips dangerously close to her ear. “Let me help you with that.”
His lemon-scented aftershave teased her senses, made her feel lightheaded. Why did he have to smell so good, damn it?
He opened the cupboard, pulled out a ceramic bowl and held it out.
She accepted the bowl with a soft “thank you”.
And without meeting his eyes.
“So what are your plans for the day?” Dylan asked her as she ducked into the pantry for a box of Corn Flakes.
“I wanted to hit the mall to do some Christmas shopping.” She prepared a bowl of cereal, then sat at the opposite end of the counter and started to eat. Quickly. Because the faster she ate, the faster she could leave the kitchen and pretend she’d never seen—
Nothing. You saw nothing.
“Want us to drop you off before we head to the base?” Aidan offered.
“It’s six-thirty in the morning, Aidan. The stores don’t open until nine.”
“Right. My bad. You’ll be okay taking a cab, then?”
“I’ll be just fine.” Crap, that sounded a tad snippy. She almost lifted her head to shoot him an apologetic look, then thought better of it.
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.