Without a sound, both men slowly walked over to stand beside her bed. As one, they unfastened their trousers and let them drop to the floor. They stepped out of them and climbed into bed with her.
Joe took the sheet from her and gently drew it down her body. Mason leaned in and kissed her, his stubble slightly scratchy against her cheek. She felt Joe’s fingers undoing the buttons on her nightgown, parting the light fabric and exposing her breasts.
Her heart raced faster as he leaned in and took her left nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked against it, rapidly turning it into an achingly hard and throbbing point. Mason sat up and moved down, taking her other nipple between his lips and giving it similar treatment.
She closed her eyes and moaned as Joe guided her own hand between her legs, encouraging her with his hand to rub her clit with her fingers. She felt wanton, and yet it felt so right and better than anything she could have ever dreamed of.
As the men settled in and sucked on her nipples, she quickly shed any last reserve and started rubbing her clit, plunging her fingers into her drenched pussy and gathering her own juices to lubricate her now frantic actions.
As the men continued to suck, she felt her first orgasm since before Paul died bubbling beneath the surface, blossoming, taking her breath away.
The men didn’t stop, their hot, wet mouths helping to pull her orgasm up and out of her until she gasped for air—
And awoke to find her hand working frantically between her legs, and that she was alone in bed.
Gasping and sweating, she sat up and looked around, heat filling her face. She closed her eyes and collapsed back onto the bed.
A dream. Just a dream.
She started to laugh and had to pull the pillow over her face to stifle her near-hysterical giggles that soon turned into sobs. The dream had felt so right despite having two men servicing her.
What am I going to do?
How would she ever survive living with both of them without succumbing to at least one of them?
And how would she ever choose between them, if they were both interested in her?
Joe lay awake, staring at the ceiling. This time his thoughts turned to the attractive woman sleeping just steps away across the hall. Not that he could do anything about it. Mason had already made his intentions more than clear. Joe hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel holding her, even though it had been innocent and totally unplanned.
He just hoped she didn’t feel how hard his cock strained against his trousers as he let her down. She smelled good, felt perfect in his arms.
At least Mason would be happy. She would be good for him.
Eventually, he drifted to sleep, although he was tortured by dreams of Laura…and of Katie. The next morning he awoke before dawn to the sound of noises in the kitchen. He pulled on trousers and yanked his suspenders up as he went to investigate. He found Katie, already dressed and ready to start her day, rummaging through the kitchen.
“What are you looking for?”
Apparently she hadn’t heard him, because she let out a startled cry as she jumped and turned, a hand pressed to her chest. “You scared the deuce out of me!” Her face looked red and flushed.
“Sorry. Can I help you find something?”
“Yes, thank you. I was looking for tea.”
“We don’t have any. We’ve got coffee.”
“Ah. Okay. I’ll make that then.”
He showed her where it was and realized she had assembled a bowl of batter. “What’s that?”
“You like hotcakes, I hope?”
He smiled. “I certainly do. Unless Mason’s the one handling the spatula. His hotcakes are lacking a certain…”
“Flavor?”
“Edibility.”
“Hey,” Mason grumpily complained as he entered the kitchen. “That’s not true. It’s only the first five or six that aren’t edible. After that, you can get them down if you chew them long enough and use plenty of syrup.” He yawned, scratched himself, and then seemed to remember there was a lady present. His face reddened. “Sorry, Katie. ’Scuse me.”
Joe fought back the jealous twinge he felt at Mason’s arrival. Joe knew he had no claim on her. Not that Mason had an official claim by any stretch of the imagination, but he loved his cousin, and the last thing he wanted to do was move in when Mason had already stated his interest.
Katie laughed, apparently amused by their exchange. “Well, I’ve never had complaints about my hotcakes before, so hopefully they’ll be up to your standards.”
“I’m sure they will,” Joe assured her.
Joe left them in the kitchen and returned to his room to freshen up and dress. Mason apparently had the same idea, because he heard his cousin return to his room a brief moment later.
Good, he’s not alone with her.
Joe cringed at the thought. He couldn’t allow himself to go there. No, not at all. But now that he realized the seed was planted, he couldn’t bear to dig it up.
Katie let out a relieved breath when both men returned to their rooms. After her dream, she’d spent a restless night, albeit in a comfortable bed, but her thoughts turning to one or the other man just across the hall from her room.
Or to both.
Katie felt her face redden and quickly steered her imagination away from that. She relaxed as she cooked, something she enjoyed and hadn’t done much of for the past year.
No, don’t think about that.
One of the first things she’d unpacked had been Paul’s picture. Set up on the shelf in her room, next to his mantle clock, she fought the urge to cry. It didn’t matter what he said before he died, she didn’t know how to give her heart to someone else. And now she had two eligible men literally underfoot to choose from, if she wanted.
The men emerged from their rooms, fully dressed this time, and tucked into their meals with appreciative noises and frequently repeated thanks. Mason offered her a playful wink. “If the rest of your cooking is even half this good, you’ll have the two of us fighting to keep you here. You realize that, right?”
Her face warmed. “You barely know me,” she mumbled as she turned to the sink to wash her own plate. “You may be tired of me by next week.”
“Nope,” Joe spoke up. “Not very likely. Heck, your hotcakes are a darn sight better than the best thing Mason’s ever attempted.”
“You’re not much better,” Mason shot back. “Who ever heard of trying to mash raw potatoes?”
She burst out laughing and turned from the sink. “What? Raw potatoes?”
It was Joe’s turn to blush. “It was the first time I ever tried making them,” he mumbled. “How was I supposed to know you cook them first?”
He looked so miserable she decided muffle her amusement. But the thought kept her smiling up until Mason’s next comment broke into her thoughts. “I’m ready to head to town whenever you are, Katie. They’ve already got the buggy hitched.”
She looked around the kitchen and realized she already thought of it as “hers.” That’s when the full impact of her loss struck her with heavy clarity. She enjoyed her work, but she missed having a home, not just a place to lay her weary bones at the end of each lonely day. It wasn’t until both men crowded close, concern on their faces, that she discovered she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked. “Did we say something to upset you?”
She wiped her face with the dish towel and shook her head. “I’m sorry. No, it’s not you two. You’ve been wonderful.”
“Then what is it, Katie? What’s the matter?”
She forced a smile. “I’m just being a silly woman, that’s all. Missing what can’t be anymore. Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready to go.” She hurried to her room and mentally chided herself for her weakness, for letting her emotions get the better of her in front of the men. They were good, kind men who didn’t need to be saddled with her burdens.