“My feelings, exactly. The sooner we have an answer in that area, the better I’ll like it,” Morgan said. He knew things in the world could be twisted and convoluted and crooked as hell. Maybe it was his experience with the seamier elements in life, thanks to some of the work he’d undertaken for Uncle Sam, that had made him suspicious of the story Tamara had told him. Maybe it was instinct. Oh, he believed Tamara believed what she’d told them, completely. One look in those witchy-hazel eyes of hers and he saw the truth. “In the meantime, we take care of our woman the way Kendalls do.”
“Bet your ass we do,” Henry said.
“Your woman?”
Morgan turned toward the sound of the sleepy, feminine voice. God in heaven she turns me on. She stood there at the door to the kitchen, looking warm and bed-rumpled, her sassy, fiery brown hair nicely mussed. She’d grabbed his T-shirt and slipped it on over her head. On her it wore very nearly like a minidress, but he’d bet if she raised her arms over her head, he’d get a wonderful glimpse of pussy.
“Do you have a problem with that?” he asked her.
“Not so much a problem with it, as that I’m confused by it.”
“I thought we cured your confusion yesterday,” Henry said.
“You cured that confusion. This is a different confusion entirely.”
Tamara looked from him to his brother, her brow drawn up as if she was trying, but not very hard, to contain her inner grump.
Morgan smiled. Damned if he didn’t really like this side of her. He shot a glance at Henry, who was also smiling in a way that told Morgan he felt the same way.
Point of fact, he bet he knew what she claimed to be “confused” about. He was also of the opinion that she wasn’t really confused. She was pissed.
“If you tell us what it is you’re confused about, we’ll be happy to un-confuse you.” Morgan gave her his best smile.
“You didn’t fuck me last night.”
“No, ma’am, we didn’t,” Henry said, and Morgan could hear the suppressed laughter in his response.
“Not that we didn’t want to.” Morgan ambled over to her and raised her chin with his finger so that she could see the truth in his eyes. “If in the future you ever think to accuse us of being selfish lovers, remember this moment, and last night. We both went to sleep with raging hard-ons, and neither of us jerked off, either. We wanted you so bad our cocks ached.”
“Now I really don’t understand,” Tamara said.
“You needed to know that we’ll always put your needs—and your pleasure—above our own,” Morgan said.
“The challenge you didn’t mean to hand us yesterday,” Henry reminded her.
“Well, hell.”
She had such a pouty little face Morgan couldn’t resist bending down and planting a kiss right on her luscious lips.
“I think you need some coffee, love,” he said.
“If that’s what you think I need, you weren’t paying attention to my pout just now.”
Morgan grinned. He looked over at his brother, met his gaze.
“Oh, we paid attention to it,” Morgan said. “And we’d love nothing better than to take you right back to bed. But we’ve agreed to meet Jordan at the site by nine, which would only give us a couple of hours.”
Henry stepped forward and ran his hand down Tamara’s back. When she turned to look up at him, he gave her a very light kiss. “We can’t love you properly in just a couple of hours. It’s going to take us all night.”
“And maybe all the next day, too,” Morgan said. He kissed her again. “Now sit down, and we’ll get you that coffee.”
* * * *
The brothers Kendall were driving her crazy.
That was the only explanation Tamara had for her pouty-face, thoroughly frustrated mood. Thank God they gave me a hammer and some nails. Tamara stepped back from the piece of plywood she was working on and frowned. Those sneaky devils not only gave her a hammer and some nails, they set her to work in between them, but not so close to either of them that she would be tempted take out her frustration on them.
Tamara was beginning to think that those two flyboys were different from any men she’d ever known. They’d stripped her bare the night before and given her the best orgasm of her life, demonstrating that they somehow knew her body better than she did herself. And then they had tucked her in between them and told her to go to sleep.
It peeved her more than a little that she had done just that.
As she stood there staring at that stupid piece of wood, it occurred to her that what they’d done the night before had actually been the first time in her life that anyone had made her their focus and taken care of her. Not only had they taken care of her, but then this morning they’d more or less told her that what happened next was going to be entirely up to her.
The rats had put the ball firmly in her court. She’d have to make the next move. Tamara shook her head. In the course of just slightly more than twenty-four hours she’d gone from being shocked about the existence of a town called Lusty where ménage relationships seemed to be the norm, to trying to figure out the best where and when to try to grab such a relationship for herself.
Crap, it’s not even just sex that I want. It’s a complete, emotionally-involved relationship.
“Is something wrong?”
Tamara looked up. She hadn’t heard Jordan Kendall approach. He was looking from her to the plywood and back. She knew she was scowling. She guessed she couldn’t blame him for wondering.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said. “At least nothing here.” She waved toward the wood. Point of fact, there were another five sheets Morgan and Henry had tacked in place that needed more than the few nails currently holding them in place.
Hell, her
