Chapter Fifteen

Jasmine

I woke up late, and alone.

Who could blame me for the late part because a pair of serpent shifters had kept me up most of the night. And it was incredible sex, but it was more than that. I lay in my bed, the covers rumpled and half on the floor, the scents of both males and sex intoxicating and a little overwhelming. I hadn't been opposed to the idea of having sex with them, but it came on so fast and intense. But then, what had I expected? Two men. I'd somehow not let that be a big factor in coming here. I had planned to enjoy myself, and hopefully they would too, but hearts could not be harmed. I had never been with two men at the same time before, and in all logic, I should have been concerned over what that would mean. What it would be like. But when we tumbled into bed, this bed, and I saw those two men, so much bigger than me in every meaningful way, fear threatened to overtake attraction and general horniness.

And the only thing that kept me from running away was the something more I didn't want to look at. Of course, once they started kissing and touching and everything, my desire rose above any anxiety. They were not only really good in bed, but tender and caring and all those factors combined to make for an extraordinary night. I'd never felt as loved as I did last night. Could it ever be like that again?

Or was it just a first-time thing?

I wasn't a virgin, just new to multiple people in a bed. Why hadn't that been a dealbreaker for me or at least concerning? I stretched, feeling pleasantly sore in places I hadn't felt that way about in a while. It was nice, and I considered just going back to sleep. Another hour or two…I rarely slept more than five or six hours anyway, and it would be awful to catch up on shut-eye while I was here. The bed was every bit as comfortable as I'd thought it would be… And the men were serpentine, so far as I could tell, in only one way. They were incredibly flexible.

Then laughing voices carried from downstairs, and the urge to sleep fled. Images of their faces filled my mind and I hopped up to shower, ready to start the day. I dressed simply in shorts and one of my book-themed tees, this one extolling the virtues of romance reading for good health. My hair was damp from the shower, but I didn't take the time to do anything about that beyond running a comb through it. The urge to be close to these two men mingled with the scent of bacon frying that had my tummy rumbling.

When I got downstairs, I passed the basement door on the way to the kitchen and paused to look at the keypad. It wasn't the same as the ones by the patio and front doors, and I wondered if they used the same code? When they brought their work in the day before, they carefully kept their screens facing away from me, and I felt a little insulted by their lack of trust. Why didn't they want me to see what they were doing?

My hand was lifted to try the code when Drake's voice sounded closer, and I quickly dropped it to my side. I took quick steps toward the kitchen and entered, smiling. Drake was actually still in the kitchen, but he was at the end closer to the hallway, so that was why he'd sounded nearer. He was. "Morning," I greeted them. "Smells great in here."

Drake looped an arm around me and gave me a squeeze. "It does now." He nuzzled my neck. "Mmm."

I tried to wriggle free then relaxed into his hold. "I meant the bacon."

"And I meant you." He dropped a kiss on my lips then let me go. "How did you sleep?"

"Excellent question. I don't know that I did, really. Some guys kept waking me up to poke me."

"Poke you?" Naga chuckled. "I like that image. Come over here and we can talk more about it." He wore only lounge pants, as did Drake, and it didn't take a genius to see their reaction to me through the thin cotton.

"Mmm. That sounds great, but the bacon would burn."

"I think she's obsessed with the bacon," Naga said.

Drake grinned, reaching for me again. "Not with us, pretty girl?"

I rolled my eyes. "I imagine women line up down the block to get in here and get poked."

Naga puffed out his bottom lip. "Now poking doesn't sound as interesting. Random women? No. You"—he left the pan of sputtering bacon to come over and capture me against him—"I'll poke you anytime."

"I read a lot of romance novels," I said, as Drake came behind me, caging me between them. "And I don't recall a lot of talking about poking."

"No?" he asked. "Then what do they call this?" His lips came down on the back of my neck, warm and firm. "Someday, we'll take you together, at the same time. Would you like that?"

The smoke alarm saved me from answering, but the goose bumps on my arms and legs told the tale.

Fortunately, most of the bacon did not burn, and we sat down at the table to eat breakfast together. In my past relationships, or what passed as relationships, breakfast the morning after rarely happened, and I found this to be most enjoyable. Now that they were off the topic of erotic poking, they suggested we go to the local town and "poke" around.

Men. Shifters or not, they were all about the double entendres.

But in this case, it was more than that. Because as soon as we finished eating, they closed in on me again with kisses and hugs and snuggles that weakened my knees and came way too close to melting my heart.