“Loved it.” Owen’s excitement shone in his gaze. It was the most emotion I’d seen from him. “That ninth game shook my faith, but 10... Wow. I should have seen it coming, and I didn’t. Brilliant. Appropriate. Possibly my favorite game ever.”
I’d pass the praise along to Anne, but why couldn’t he have been an ass about the whole thing? “It is pretty good.”
“And the poster?” Owen asked.
I shrugged. “I fucked one of the developers.”
Kingston looked impressed. “I hope he was worth a poster.”
“She is worth a lot more than that. But we make better friends than lovers.” Why had I gone out of my way to bring up what Anne and I used to have? To prove to them I was desirable, or to remind myself?
Neither of them looked fazed. Bonus points to them for not casting judgement, though a hint of jealousy might have been nice.
“So, is X’s relationship based on you two?” Owen’s question was light and playful.
Anne wasn’t involved in the writing, just the programming. “Well, she did pretend to execute me once, in order to save my life. Slid her cart racer into mine, to push me out of the way of a blue turtle shell. But we didn’t swear vengeance on the legions who did it.”
“No?” Kingston leaned against a nearby counter, palms rested on the butcher block top. “Because that’s some pretty serious shit.”
“Everyone gets a little power hungry when they’re playing a mushroom driving a cartoon car. He lost anyway, so I suppose fate stepped in on our behalf.”
Chase could be a sabotaging asshole in Mario Kart, but Anne loved him and he was Sadie’s brother, so we forgave him the competitive streak.
“So are you a Princess Peach kind of player? Toad?” Owen asked.
“Donkey Kong.”
Owen’s eyes grew wide. “You know how to control that slide?”
“Better than anyone, especially if they try to pass me in the corners.”
“Brutal.” Kingston sounded appreciative. “That’s sexy.”
I flushed at his sincerity. Not used to not having a comeback, I turned my attention back to making buttercream frosting.
The only way I had to measure time was by how much we got done. I was still surprised when Violet poked her head in.
“Store’s locked up,” she said. “Do you need anything”—she glanced at the men—“or do you want me to stick around at all?” Her implied meaning are you all right alone with two strange guys was clear.
I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay, thank you. Enjoy your night.”
She gave me one last wave, and was gone.
Owen offered to help decorate the cupcakes. That was a little more control than I wanted to give up, but I also wanted to finish. I made him prove himself by piping on a piece of wax paper, and was impressed with the results.
We worked for a couple more hours, putting the finishing touches on everything, and boxing it all up.
“Last one.” Owen added the box of cupcakes to the stack, and turned to face me.
He had two almost perfect smudges of chocolate on his forehead, that made him look like he had double eyebrows and was very surprised. I bit my lip to hide my amusement, but a laugh slipped out.
“What did I miss?” He raised an eyebrow. That made it even funnier.
Kingston joined in the laughing. “Chocolate on your face.”
“Where?” Owen frowned.
I shouldn’t keep laughing, but I couldn’t help it. “Your forehead. Here.” I crossed the distance between us, and smudged the frosting away with a towel.
“You think that’s funny?” Owen’s tone was threatening, but he was smiling too.
“A little, yeah.”
He booped my nose. “There. Now you have chocolate on your face too.”
“You jerk.” I reached to wipe it away.
Owen grabbed my wrist. “Leave it. It looks cute.”
A shiver of desire ran through me at the heat of his grip, and when I met his gaze, my breath caught at the intensity staring back.
Now would be the perfect time to pull away. But my body was too focused on the heat flowing between us and the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sugar, to get the message.
Chapter Six
I forced myself to act, dipping a free finger in the extra frosting, and aiming a touch for Owen’s cheek.
He captured my other wrist as well. His grip was more solid and tantalizing than my fantasies promised, and now my brain was skipping ahead to the part where he’d pin me to the wall—
“What are you going to do now?” Owen’s tone was teasing mixed with challenge.
Whimper and beg him to lift me on the counter and take advantage of me? “Pout?” I jutted out my lower lip.
Kingston had gone quiet. Was he watching? Enjoying or irritated?
“That’s not a deterrent.” Owen pulled my frosting covered finger into his mouth.
When he traced circles over my skin, licking it clean, that whimper escaped.
His smirk was another layer of delicious. He dropped that wrist, still studying me. “Next plan?” He asked.
I nodded at my still captured hand. “You got chocolate on my wrist, too.” I’d stop short of asking him to lick every inch of me—probably.
A touch met the small of my back. “Save some for me.” There was Kingston. He grasped my fingertips.
Owen let me go to reach past me and grip the back of Kingston’s neck. He crushed his mouth to Kingston’s in the sort of all-consuming kiss that made my lips whimper for a hint of the same.
I think my gasp was as loud as Kingston’s when they broke apart.
Kingston chuckled softly and bit his bottom lip. “I meant the gorgeous lady’s chocolate frosting, but that’s pretty good too.”
Just. Wow.
The way they interacted with me, with each other, told me they were practiced at this two-guys-one-girl thing. Not that I expected to be their first. I was here for the physical gratification. The show between the two of them was an added bonus. Were they more than friends? They must be with a kiss like that.
When Kingston licked the sensitive skin along the inside of my wrist, my questions faded into the background and I moaned. That felt better than should be legal.
“Good?” he asked with a grin. His composure had returned.
Mine hadn’t. Any answer I could come up with felt weak, so I settled for nodding.
He increased the pressure of his tongue, alternating between licking and sucking, until goosebumps raised over every inch of me, and my nipples strained against my bra, wanting to feel this for themselves.
“Did you plan this?” My doubt was a bitch for trying to ruin this moment.
Owen twisted his mouth. “Which one of us?”
“You seem to work together pretty well, so both or either?”
Owen dipped his finger in the frosting again, and trailed a line down the side of my neck. He leaned in and dragged his tongue up the same curve, stopping with his lips on my earlobe. “Did we plan for you to burn dozens of cupcakes?” he whispered. “To have a deadline. To be willing to accept our help. To be so much fun to talk to, on top of being sexy as fuck?”
When he put it that way...