be just fine to fuck him and Chet whenever they wanted her to because it was hot and sexy and the most erotic and mindblowing thing that had ever happened to her.
But she wasn't fine with that. She wasn't fine with it at all.
She actually liked them. She could see herself falling for one or both of them. And that was a recipe for disaster.
"I'm not doing so hot," she said. "And you guys aren't helping."
Without saying a word, Sam drew her into his arms.
Maddy stiffened, the gesture startling her, but he felt so good—so warm and solid—that she found herself almost falling against him, her whole body sagging with a sudden release of tension. His warm, firm chest, pressed to her forehead, was like a pillar. A delicious, squeezable pillar. If she held on, she would be okay. If she just let him hold her up, she would make it...
"May we come in?" The rumble of his voice felt good against her face, and Maddy found herself nodding. She didn't think she could let him go just yet.
Chet brushed by them, and Sam helped her into the entryway. Closing the door behind them, he kept his arm around her shoulders and guided her gently toward the couch where a TV tray with a bowl of ice cream and a package of oreos stood as testament to the stressful week she'd had. Together, she and Sam sat on the couch. Meanwhile, Chet entered the kitchen and opened the pantry. "Where do you keep your tea?" he asked, his voice brisk and businesslike.
"Why would I want tea?" Maddy said. "I need a drink."
"Who says the two are incompatible?" Chet asked. "But I'll make coffee instead." He drew a canister of instant Folgers out of the pantry and set about heating some water. Next to her, Sam rubbed her back.
"We're sorry," Sam said. "We had no idea you would have a problem with the presents."
Maddy shook her head. "It's not the presents. Not really. It's... it's everything. I'm so swamped at work now, and I..." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was gazing at her with a look full of compassion. The small, soothing circles his palm made were lulling her into a sense of security. She could get used to him. She could get used to both of them.
And it would all end in tears.
"What do you want from me?" she said.
Sam looked startled, then laughed, short and sharp. "Well," he said, "you really are the best Maddy . Always straight to the point."
"That's me," she said as Chet came out of the kitchen with three cups of coffee. He set them down on the TV tray, then reached inside his suit coat and withdrew a silver flask. Uncapping it, he poured a rich amber liquid into each cup, then sat down on her other side.
"Here," he said, his voice still all business. "Drink some."
Maddy almost said You're not the boss of me , but, actually, he sort of was, so she decided to take the path of least resistance in this one thing and brought the coffee to her lips. It was warm, but not scalding, and she took a gulp. It went down smooth, but behind it the alcohol burned and she coughed. "Shit, that stuff is strong," she said. Her eyes began to water.
"We want to date you," Chet said.
Maddy blinked. So much for straight to the point. In all the ways she saw a meeting with the two of them panning out, this was... well, it wasn't even on the list.
"I beg your pardon?" she said.
"We want to date you," Chet repeated. "That's why we sent the gifts."
She stared at him. "I didn't know they were from both of you," she said, which wasn't even remotely the point but was all she could think to say. "And aren't you two... you know. An item now?"
Chet tilted his head. "You could say that. But we're finding that there's something missing between us."
Maddy almost groaned. "Don't say, 'it's you.'"
Chet drew back, offended. "Why not?"
"Because that's cheesy."
"It may be cheesy, but it's the truth," Sam said from her other side. She shifted her focus to him, and swayed where she sat.
Whoah , she thought. That alcohol is strong. What the hell was that? "What do
But she wasn't fine with that. She wasn't fine with it at all.
She actually liked them. She could see herself falling for one or both of them. And that was a recipe for disaster.
"I'm not doing so hot," she said. "And you guys aren't helping."
Without saying a word, Sam drew her into his arms.
Maddy stiffened, the gesture startling her, but he felt so good—so warm and solid—that she found herself almost falling against him, her whole body sagging with a sudden release of tension. His warm, firm chest, pressed to her forehead, was like a pillar. A delicious, squeezable pillar. If she held on, she would be okay. If she just let him hold her up, she would make it...
"May we come in?" The rumble of his voice felt good against her face, and Maddy found herself nodding. She didn't think she could let him go just yet.
Chet brushed by them, and Sam helped her into the entryway. Closing the door behind them, he kept his arm around her shoulders and guided her gently toward the couch where a TV tray with a bowl of ice cream and a package of oreos stood as testament to the stressful week she'd had. Together, she and Sam sat on the couch. Meanwhile, Chet entered the kitchen and opened the pantry. "Where do you keep your tea?" he asked, his voice brisk and businesslike.
"Why would I want tea?" Maddy said. "I need a drink."
"Who says the two are incompatible?" Chet asked. "But I'll make coffee instead." He drew a canister of instant Folgers out of the pantry and set about heating some water. Next to her, Sam rubbed her back.
"We're sorry," Sam said. "We had no idea you would have a problem with the presents."
Maddy shook her head. "It's not the presents. Not really. It's... it's everything. I'm so swamped at work now, and I..." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was gazing at her with a look full of compassion. The small, soothing circles his palm made were lulling her into a sense of security. She could get used to him. She could get used to both of them.
And it would all end in tears.
"What do you want from me?" she said.
Sam looked startled, then laughed, short and sharp. "Well," he said, "you really are the best Maddy . Always straight to the point."
"That's me," she said as Chet came out of the kitchen with three cups of coffee. He set them down on the TV tray, then reached inside his suit coat and withdrew a silver flask. Uncapping it, he poured a rich amber liquid into each cup, then sat down on her other side.
"Here," he said, his voice still all business. "Drink some."
Maddy almost said You're not the boss of me , but, actually, he sort of was, so she decided to take the path of least resistance in this one thing and brought the coffee to her lips. It was warm, but not scalding, and she took a gulp. It went down smooth, but behind it the alcohol burned and she coughed. "Shit, that stuff is strong," she said. Her eyes began to water.
"We want to date you," Chet said.
Maddy blinked. So much for straight to the point. In all the ways she saw a meeting with the two of them panning out, this was... well, it wasn't even on the list.
"I beg your pardon?" she said.
"We want to date you," Chet repeated. "That's why we sent the gifts."
She stared at him. "I didn't know they were from both of you," she said, which wasn't even remotely the point but was all she could think to say. "And aren't you two... you know. An item now?"
Chet tilted his head. "You could say that. But we're finding that there's something missing between us."
Maddy almost groaned. "Don't say, 'it's you.'"
Chet drew back, offended. "Why not?"
"Because that's cheesy."
"It may be cheesy, but it's the truth," Sam said from her other side. She shifted her focus to him, and swayed where she sat.
Whoah , she thought. That alcohol is strong. What the hell was that? "What do
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