Double Team: A Menage Romance Read online

  I laugh. "That is not what I meant."

  "We're worse when we go back to West Bend," Aiden says.

  "You mean, you're worse." Noah shakes his head and munches on a piece of bacon. "Keeping him from doing stupid shit used to be my full-time job."

  Aiden snorts. "He's a liar. He used to do plenty of it with me."

  "Nope," Noah disagrees. "Remember when you tied mattresses to yourself and got on our roof and jumped off?"

  Aiden laughs. "I'm lucky Mama Ashby didn't kick me out on my ass after that. She was pissed. I mean, cat-in-a-bath pissed off. You were the one doing the tying, though, so don't act like you're all innocent and I was just a stupid kid."

  "Did it work?" I ask, laughing. "The mattresses, I mean. Did they cushion you?"

  "Obviously, they did not. He hit his head," Noah says.

  Aiden grins. "It's okay, my brains are all in the head between my legs."

  "Say what you will about him, but at least he's honest," Noah says.

  "Your poor mothers," I say, then immediately regret my words, thinking of Aiden's mother who died. "I didn't mean –"

  "It's okay," Aiden reassures me. "Shit, if my mom were alive, she'd say the same thing. I gave her so much grief as a kid. Hell, Noah and I both did. If we weren't getting into trouble at his house, we were getting into it at mine."

  "It sounds fun," I say. "Small town life, I mean."

  "Says the girl who grew up jet-setting around the world," Aiden replies.

  "Uh… no," I say, laughing. "I mean, sure, boarding school in Switzerland –"

  Aiden and Noah raise their eyebrows dramatically and give each other meaningful looks as they pick up their glasses, pinkies extended.

  "It wasn't like that," I protest.

  "Boarding school in Switzerland wasn't fancy?" Noah asks, his voice skeptical.

  "It was a little fancy –" I start.

  "Were there uniforms?" Aiden shovels a bite of what has to be his sixth pancake into his mouth.

  "At boarding school? Yes, but –"

  "Plaid skirt?" Noah asks, suddenly enthralled with where this conversation is going.

  "Navy blue, but –"

  "Pleated?" Noah asks.

  "Pigtails and a white shirt, tied up under your –" Aiden starts.

  "No, boarding school was not a Britney Spears music video," I say primly. "It was serious."

  "You were a nerd, weren't you?" Noah asks.

  "Not… really."

  “Were you valedictorian?” Noah asks.

  “Did you research me?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “Fine. Yes, I was valedictorian.”

  “Totally a nerd,” Aiden says. “Did you date any jocks?”

  “In high school or in college?” I ask.

  “Either.”

  I exhale. “No.”

  “No jocks, huh?” Noah asks, eating a bite of eggs. “What was your type, then?”

  My face reddens. “No one in high school.”

  “You didn’t date anyone?”

  “It wasn’t a priority,” I answer, suddenly defensive. “I was studying.”

  “Like Noah.” Aiden nods toward him as he puts another pancake – his seventh? – onto his plate. “He’s practically a monk.”

  “Football was my priority," Noah replies, an edge in his voice.

  Aiden grins. “You know what my priority is right now?” he asks, his eyes on mine. “Dessert.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Dessert? After all this?”

  Noah and Aiden exchange glances. “Yup.”

  “I can’t believe you guys can even eat anything else after - ”

  I’m cut off mid-sentence as Noah stands and picks me right up out of my chair, flipping me over his shoulder with my ass in the air. I let out a shriek as they carry me back to Noah’s bedroom and show me exactly how much football players can eat.

  32

  Grace

  I thought that the return to Denver, back to my normal life and the foundation, would take whatever was happening between Noah and Aiden and I down a notch. After all, the threat of my security detail leaking details of my personal life to my parents is hanging over me like a black cloud.

  Except that threat hasn't done anything to dampen what's happening with the three of us.

  I’ve become reckless - completely and utterly reckless. I told Brooks and Davis that I was working on a football-related charity project with Aiden and Noah that required visits to their house and vice-versa.

  It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever said to anyone while keeping a straight face. To their credit, they didn’t flinch or say anything other than “Noted, ma’am.”

  I haven’t gotten any frantic phone calls from my parents, so Brooks and Davis haven’t ratted me out – yet. I tell myself that Secret Service agents keep all kinds of secrets, that even if they suspected anything they have zero evidence that anything untoward is happening. I tell myself that they’re professionals.

  Unlike me. I used to be a professional, but my level of professionalism might be very quickly spiraling downward.

  “Your call with Robert Brownstone was rescheduled.” Janice’s voice is loud over the speaker on the phone.

  “Perfect. I’ll catch up on –“

  “Wait. The call was rescheduled, so I slid a donor into the spot,” Janice says. “He’s here now.”

  “Great.” I keep my voice cheerful, even though I really would rather watch paint dry than schmooze a donor right now.

  At least, that’s true until I see who the donor is.

  “Ms. Sullivan,” Noah says, his words clipped, his tone professional. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and his hair is wet, like he just got out of the shower.

  “Mr. Ashby,” I say, extending my hand to shake his. Electricity runs through me at his mere touch and my body aches for him, despite seeing him and Aiden last night. He holds my hand a few moments too long before releasing it. “Janice, how much time do I have?”

  “Thirty minutes,” she says before answering another call.

  “Plenty of time,” Noah says gruffly, his eyes locked on mine. I turn around, the throbbing between my legs almost too intense to bear as I walk back to the office with Noah behind me. I can feel his gaze on me as I walk. Inside the office, he closes the door and locks it immediately, his hand going straight to the nape of my neck before I even turn around. “I couldn’t wait until tonight.”

  “Who said there was going to be a tonight?” I whisper as he pushes me forward, going straight to the window that overlooks a busy street. He puts my palms flat on the glass, his hands going to my skirt and yanking it up at the sides.

  “There’s going to be a tonight,” he growls, his voice low in my ear.

  “You didn’t even ask if this window was see-through from the outside,” I whisper, as he hikes my skirt over my backside and yanks my panties down my thighs.

  “If this window was see-through, you wouldn't have let me pull up your skirt, Grace," Noah growls.

  Okay, so maybe I'm not that reckless. I might be reckless enough to let Noah Ashby pull my panties off and push me up against my office window, but not reckless enough to screw him in public.

  Yet.

  At the rate I'm losing my inhibitions, I may be fucking Noah and Aiden in the damn White House next week.

  That should strike fear into my heart, but in this moment, all I can think about is how much I want them.

  “Aiden’s not with you,” I say, half a question and half a statement, but I'm immediately distracted by Noah’s fingers between my legs.

  “Fuck, you’re so damn wet already,” Noah growls. He doesn’t need to tell me to spread my legs. I step wider to give him access, like some kind of reflex, and he pushes his fingers inside me so easily.

  “I think I’m wet all the time,” I whisper. I think I’m walking around in a constant state of arousal now, between being fucked by them and thinking about being fucked by them. It’s a h