Brazen (Brazen #1)(23)

That wasn’t enough for her. She’d never be any woman. She’d be everything to them or nothing.

She sat up and struggled to get out of her clothes. Did she have any chance at making them love her in return? At making them see that she needed them both?

It won’t be easy, chérie. The sort of committed relationship between the three of you that you propose is foreign to them. Aberrant. It will be up to you to show them how beautiful it can be.

Cherisse’s caution floated around in Jasmine’s mind. She’d discarded her friend’s words at the time because she’d been too caught up in the idea of resolving her love for both men. Cherisse was right. It wouldn’t be easy. But then what ever was?

She pulled herself up from the bed and trudged over to the window. Seeing Zane’s truck gone, she deemed it safe to go crawl into the shower. She had a long night ahead of her if she was going to wait for Zane to return.

Jasmine watched from the window as the two trucks rolled up the drive nearly an hour later. She dropped her finger away from the curtain and quickly moved over to her bed. She crawled under the covers and waited.

Soon she heard the quiet footsteps in the hall and then heard them pause outside her door. She lowered her lashes until her eyes were half-lidded. To her surprise, Seth appeared around the doorway, his outline recognizable even in the darkened room. She shut her eyes as he moved closer.

She tried to breathe normally as he neared her bed. Then he stopped, and she was dying to know what he was doing. She opened her eyes just a crack, hoping that he couldn’t see her in the dark.

He stood by her bed, staring down at her, an indecipherable expression on his face. Then he reached down to touch her hair. He ran his fingers over the strands and to her cheek. And like Zane, he bent and kissed her softly on the forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He left the bed, his footsteps retreating across the room. She opened her eyes wider to see him walk out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Her chest ached with the need to go after him. If only it was as easy as going to both of them, telling them she loved them and having them accept that her love encompassed them both.

Her fingers curled around the covers, and she let out a shaky breath, emotion knotting her throat. She turned over on her side and curled her knees to her chest. What if they never accepted it? What if they couldn’t come to terms with the relationship as she saw it?

The idea sent panic swelling into her chest and stomach, twisting her insides until she clawed at her throat in an attempt to assuage the relentless ache.

She lay there for as long as she could stand it and then she got up. Silently, she cracked open her door and peered down the darkened hallway. Both Seth’s and Zane’s doors were closed. Her alcohol buzz long abated, she tip-toed down to Zane’s door and slowly turned the knob.

When she entered, Zane looked up from his perch on the bed. He was sprawled on the bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. He held the TV remote in one hand and propped his body up on his other elbow.

“I thought you’d be long passed out,” he said with a hint of discomfort in his voice. His hand clutched at the sheets and pulled them a little tighter to his waist.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t trust her voice not to betray her. Instead she walked over to the bed and crawled up onto the mattress, kneeling in front of him. With one hand, she reached out and tugged the sheet from his hand. It fell away, revealing an obvious erection.

“Were you thinking about me?” she asked softly, a hint of a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

“Jaz, you need to go back to your room,” he said in a near groan. He grabbed for the sheet, but she held fast. She was transfixed by the sight of his arousal.

Beautiful. Sleek. Yet completely male and rugged. She was staring shamelessly, and she didn’t care. Dark hair surrounded the thick base, and his c**k shot upward toward his firm belly.

“Were you thinking about me?” she repeated as she moved closer still.

“You know damn well I was,” he said in a tight voice.

She ran her hand up his thigh, loving the hair-roughened surface of his skin. The muscles coiled and jumped beneath her fingers. Before she lost her nerve, she moved her other hand and curled her fingers around the base of his cock.

“Jaz…”

It was an intoxicating mixture of satiny softness with a core of steel. She slowly rolled her hand upward, marveling at how quickly it hardened even further in her palm.

“I want to taste you. Like you tasted me,” she murmured as she leaned over his hips, her hair spilling over his groin.

“Jesus,” he whispered with agonized strain.

Cautiously, she circled the head of his dick with her lips. His scent surrounded her, filled her as she inhaled. Tangy. Masculine. He tasted wild and warm. She worked her lips lower, sucking lightly as he rasped over her tongue.

His hips twitched and rocked upward. She moved her hand down, allowing her mouth to follow its progress. When the tip came to rest at the back of her throat, she eased back, squeezing with her hand and working back up in unison with her mouth.

Zane’s hand tangled roughly in her hair. His fingers glanced over her scalp as if he was seeking purchase and finding none. She chanced a peek up his body when she reached the end of his c**k with her mouth. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, an expression she could only describe as pain marring his face.