Lana:

I spend most of the week chasing down John’s stupid story. Wednesday evening, I pull everything together, write the article and hit ‘send.’

My phone rings five minutes later. Glancing at the screen, I see that it’s my boss. Of course it is. No boundaries. “John, it’s nine in the evening.”

He ignores me. “Nice job on this piece,” he says. “What about the doctors? What do you have so far?”

I exhale with exasperation. “I have nothing. Remember our conversation back at The Torch? You called this a working vacation, and you told me I’d have two months to write this story. Ring any bells?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. I need the scoop in the next two weeks.”

What the hell is wrong with my boss? This is insane. I’ve been working sixty and seventy-hour weeks for the last two years. Every vacation request I’ve made has been denied. I haven’t made a fuss because I’m frequently reminded that I’m lucky to have a job, but honestly, if I do the math, on a per-hour basis, I’ll make more money flipping burgers for a living.

“I can’t do that,” I say flatly. “If I start sniffing around the clinic one week after I get into town, that’s going to set off all kinds of red flags.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Lana. You always do.”

He’s not listening to me. This is my fault. For years, I’ve busted ass for The Torch. I’ve created a monster.

I have to fix this. I can’t keep working these hours. I will burn out. “John, what you’re asking for is impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible for Lana Davey,” he says blithely. “I’ve got to go. Give me a call next Wednesday with an update.” He hangs up before I can protest anymore.

I stare blankly at my phone, my thoughts hazy and unfocused. It’s becoming painfully clear that my editor has no intention of lessening my workload. I can either put up with it, or I can quit my job.

Okay, I say out loud. Make a plan, Lana. You can freelance for a while, can’t you?

Yes. I could freelance. Hailey would buy an article about Elvira Grantham. Her feminist readership loves stories about women overcoming the patriarchy and living life on their own terms. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

I’m seeing Blake and Declan on Friday. I haven’t reminded Blake about meeting his aunt, but I will. It’s not a matter of idle curiosity anymore. It’s a matter of survival. I need to make rent.

Be honest, Lana. That’s not the only reason you’re looking forward to Friday.

Okay. I admit that my vibrator’s been getting quite a workout this week. I don’t even need my usual montage of Jason Bourne, Mr. Darcy, and Pierce Brosnan in the Thomas Crowne Affair to get off. Thinking about Sunday evening is more than enough. Sitting on Blake’s lap, my legs spread wide as Declan attacked my pussy like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet? It’s prime-grade spank bank material.

I’ve kissed a stranger at a bar. I’ve crossed off ‘Get Really Good Oral Sex’ off my bucket list. I wonder what Friday is going to have in store for me.

“Lana.” Blake smiles widely when he sees me on Friday, his ocean-blue eyes alight with pleasure. “You look amazing.”

The sun falls on his hair, illuminating it in shades of gold and warm caramel, and my insides flutter when I look at him. Holy hotness, Batman. I want to pinch myself. Or him. On his cute ass.

Stop it.

“Thank you,” I say, blushing at his compliment. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

He takes in my pink tank-top, white linen shorts, and my battered running shoes. “This is perfect. I thought we’d drive up to the mountains and picnic off the side of one of the trails. Declan’s just loading the cooler into the car.”

“No, I’m not.” Declan’s voice interrupts our conversation. “I’m done.” He smiles at me and brushes a kiss on my cheek. “It’s good to see you, Lana. You ready to leave?”

Well, let’s see. My pulse sped up because of that kiss, and when I caught a whiff of Declan’s cologne, my lady-bits clenched. Hard. I’d say I’m more than ready.

As promised, we drive up into the mountains. I sit in the back seat of Blake’s jeep, taking photos of the amazing scenery through the window. “Nice camera,” Declan says, looking back at me.

Shit. It’s not my camera; it’s a loaner from The Torch. “I like taking photos,” I murmur, my cheeks heating as I lie to them. “It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Nice.” Declan’s gaze is appreciative. “Did you get your work done? You said you were swamped this week.”

Oh, right. More lies. “I drove around the area,” I confess. “I had some research to do for my book.”

“The book with the cat who solves crime?” Blake asks over his shoulder. “Are you setting it in Goat?” Through the rear-view mirror, I can see the wide grin on his face. “That’d be hilarious.”

I laugh. “I don’t think my readers would believe me if I told them that there was a small town in Oregon called Goat.”

Declan chuckles. “Truth is stranger than fiction,” he agrees.

They’ve inadvertently given me an opening. “Talking about my book,” I say, crossing my fingers in my lap, “would your great-aunt be interested in talking to me?”

Blake’s eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror. “Actually, she’s quite curious about you,” he says. “I was told to invite you to dinner.”

“Wait, she doesn’t know about the list, does she?” I give Blake a horrified look.

“What?” He raises his eyebrow. “Of course not. What kind of conversations do you think we have around the dinner table?”

Declan rolls his eyes. “Some very strange ones, if we’re being honest,” he tells me. “But we do draw the line at discussing our sex lives. Elvira’s just intensely nosy about everyone in Goat.”

Damn John and his insistence that I get the story done early. “There does seem to be a lot of new people around,” I probe. “Mrs. Sharp at the convenience store said that there’s a huge housing shortage?”

Blake shrugs. “You’ll have to ask Aunt Elvira about that,” he says. “The last time I was here was at Christmas, and it was snowing too hard to do much exploring.”

Thwarted. I was hoping to lead the conversation to the Clinic of Love, but my efforts to snoop aren’t leading anywhere. “I’d love to have dinner with your aunt,” I say sincerely. “She sounds fascinating.”

After an hour and a half of driving, Blake turns left on an unmarked dirt road. “We’re almost there,” he says cheerfully. “Hold on, Lana. This last bit is a little bumpy.”

That’s an understatement if there was ever one, but the jostling is totally worth it because the road ends ten feet away from the banks of a spectacular clear blue mountain lake. I have no words to describe how gorgeous it is. “How come there’s no one here?”

“The side road isn’t on Google Maps,” Blake replies. “Also, technically, this is private property.”

“Are we trespassing?” I might get a seductive little thrill from having sex outdoors, but I certainly don’t want to get shot by an irate landowner. “Is that a good idea?”

Declan rolls his eyes at his friend. “It belongs to Elvira,” he says. “She’s owned this parcel of land for more than forty years.”

We get out and walk to the bank. Declan spreads out a picnic blanket on a flat, grassy bit and Blake brings the cooler over. “We have time for a swim before lunch,” he says.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

His eyes turn amused. “Do you need one, Lana?”

Just like that, the mood turns heated. “Did you bring swim trunks?” I whisper, looking at the two tall, broad-shouldered men in front of me.

“Nope.” Declan shakes his head. “You won’t be the only one skinny dipping.” He lifts his t-shirt over his head, and his chest comes into view, and it is glorious. If I were a poet, I’d write odes to his muscles. If I were a musician, I’d compose a ballad, but since I’m none of the above, I just stare at him, my mouth hanging open. I’ve never actually met anyone who had six-pack abs in real life. I thought it was a Photoshop-created myth.

“Lana.” Declan’s voice is filled with laughter. “You’re drooling.”

You think? “What do you do that you’re in such great shape?” I ask him, my throat dry with lust. “Are you a model?”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “Not even close.” His fingers undo the button of his shorts, and my nipples harden in anticipation. My eyes are locked on his happy trail, and I’m waiting for the reveal.

The thing is, women see a lot of dicks, and I’m no exception to the rule. Random guys send me dick pics on social media as part of some strange Internet courting ritual. I’ve seen my fair share of porn, and I’m not a blushing virgin. So, while I can’t wait to see Declan’s cock, I’m not expecting magic.

But I must have a secret fairy godmother because Declan’s cock is spectacular. This is the Rolls-Royce of cocks. It’s long and thick and perfectly proportioned. And when Blake gets naked too, I realize I’ve won the lottery.

Two perfect cocks. Two perfect, erect cocks. It’s a good day for Lana, ladies and gentlemen.

“Come on, Lana.” Blake’s eyes dance with merriment. “You’re stalling.”

A little. It’s more than a little intimidating to take my clothes off in the face of all this sculpted perfection. I’m suddenly reminded of all the days I’ve eaten a burger instead of a healthy salad, of all the nights where the only edible thing in my house was a bag of chips.

“We can help you get naked if you’d like,” Declan suggests, silky-smooth.

I swallow. It’s safe to say that if they touch me, I’m going to jump their bones. “I can manage.” It’s just a vacation fling, Lana. So you don’t have a perfect body. So what? Besides, they’ve already seen most of it, and they seemed pretty interested, not repulsed.

Before I can overthink it, I whip my t-shirt over my head, remove my bra, and slide out of my shorts and panties. Then I race toward the lake. “Last one in is…”

That’s as far as I get before they catch up with me. Laughing, the two of them pick me up and carry me into the lake. “What was that, Lana?” Declan asks innocently. “Last one in will get dunked?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I warn them.

“Really?” Blake looks at Declan. “I think that was a challenge.”

“It was.” Declan’s eyes twinkle at me. “And Lana, I never walk away from a challenge.” With that, they dump me unceremoniously in the water.

Oh, this is war, and I will have my revenge. Not today, though. Today, I have other plans.

After about an hour of splashing around in the lake, the three of us dry off and get dressed. I’m starving, and the egg-salad sandwiches are delicious. “So, Lana,” Blake says to me as we eat, “tell us about your list.”

“Specifically,” Declan adds, “item 7.”

I furrow my brow, trying to remember what I wrote down. “You guys do remember that list was the product of an entire night of drinking, don’t you?” I ask them.

“Alcohol loosens inhibitions,” Declan replies. “You wanted to have sex with someone who speaks a different language.” He raises his eyebrow. “We have questions.”

My cheeks are hot with embarrassment. I am going to kill Hailey. “What kind of questions?”

“Any language?” Blake asks. “A specific language?”

Kill me now. “Italian,” I confess sheepishly, unable to look at them. “I don’t know why. It’s just a stupid, dumb fantasy.”

“Maybe,” Declan grins, “but we did promise to help you with your list.” He pulls out his phone. “Does this fantasy Italian guy have a name?”

I cover my face with my hands. “Romeo,” I confess. “I was a sucker for Shakespeare as a teenager.”

They burst out laughing. “Romeo,” Blake chokes out. “Talk about a twisted role play.”

“Stop it.” I can’t look at them. I’m mortified. “If you’re going to mock the list, then I’m leaving.”

It’s an idle threat. We are miles away from civilization, and I have no car. I’m stuck with Blake and Declan. Not that I’m complaining about it.

“Okay, okay, no more teasing.” Declan holds up his hands with a smile. “Sei bella, Lana.”

Holy shit. Hearing him say those words, a caress in his voice, my insides melt. You’re beautiful, Lana. “You’re using Google Translate,” I accuse Declan. “That doesn’t count.”

Blake’s lips twitch as he looks at his phone. “I tuoi seni sono perfezione,” he reads.

Despite my hot-Italian-guy fantasies, I can’t speak the language. “What does that mean?”

He grins wickedly. “Your breasts are perfection.”

A shocked giggle bursts from my lips. “My breasts are perfection? You’re crazy.”

“Why? It’s the truth.” His eyes bore into mine. “Take off your top, Lana.”

“Voglio vederti nudo, Lana,” Declan growls. “I want to see you naked.”

My throat goes dry. Who needs fantasy Italians when I have two real, live, smoking-hot men in front of me? “I will if you will,” I reply.

“Oh, we will,” Blake assures me. He puts an arm around my shoulder, tugging me closer. His blue eyes are heated with desire. “I can’t get you out of my mind, Lana,” he murmurs, as his lips descend on me. His tongue brushes against the seam of my lips, and I groan and deepen the kiss, greedy for more.

There’s no one in sight. This part of the lake is secluded, quiet and peaceful. There’s very little risk of getting caught, but my heart hammers in my chest as I pull away from Blake.

Am I really going to do this?

There’s a ticking clock over my head. John wants a story in the next two weeks. I don’t have a lot of time left in Goat, and so help me God, I really want Blake and Declan. I’m going to say Yes, damn it, and I’m going to have a vacation fling, and when I’m back in my apartment with nothing but my dead cactus for company, I’m going to have a really great memory to warm my insides.

Slowly, I pull my t-shirt over my head, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. The sun beats down on my shoulders, but its warmth is nothing compared to the heat that runs through my veins. My fingers shake as I unclasp my bra.

“I tuoi seni sono perfezione,” Blake repeats softly. His eyes sweep over me slowly, and goose bumps break out over my skin. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” His thumbs brush over my nipples, and they pebble at his touch. My pussy clenches with arousal as he lowers his mouth over my aching nubs.

My skin prickles with desire. I bite my lower lip and bury my fingers in his hair, shamelessly tugging him closer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Declan getting undressed. My throat goes dry as his cock comes into view again. I got a good look earlier. Now, hopefully, I get to do more than look.

Blake wraps his arms around my waist. There’s naked desire in his expression as he pushes my breasts together, tugging both nipples between his teeth.

A jolt of pure lust runs through my body, and I whimper in pleasure. As he nibbles and teases my tender nubs, his hand moves to my shorts, and he undoes the button at the waistband. “Take these off,” he orders.

“You’re still dressed,” I point out. “Declan’s naked.” I grin at Blake as I unzip my shorts and push them down my hips. “Which means I can do this.” I wink at Blake and crawl over to Declan on my hands and knees, my breasts swaying as I move.

Declan watches me approach, his eyes filled with dark heat. “I want to taste you,” I tell him boldly. I don’t wait for his reply. I brush my lips across his hard length, and his cock jumps in response.

“Do you?” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile. He leans back, wordlessly encouraging me to continue. There’s a drop of precum glittering on his head, and I swipe my tongue over it, tasting him before opening my mouth and taking him in.

He inhales sharply, throwing his head back, an expression of unbridled pleasure on his face. A surge of desire roils through my body at his response. I place my hands on his thighs to brace myself and take him as deep as I can.

“Oh fuck yes,” Declan groans. His grip tightens in my hair, and his eyes clench shut.

I’m so lost in the velvet-hard feel of Declan’s thick cock that I’ve almost forgotten about Blake. Almost. His fingers caress the curve of my ass, and then his big hands position me so I’m on my knees, my face thrust into Declan’s lap. I don’t care about the awkwardness of the position because Blake’s fingers trail a slow and teasing path up the back of my thighs. “Declan got to taste you on Sunday,” he growls. “It’s my turn.”

I am so on board with this.

Blake slides a finger into my pussy. “Soaking wet,” he says. “You like this, don’t you, Lana? You’re such a naughty girl. You know what happens to naughty girls?”

I tear my mouth off Declan’s cock long enough to reply. “They get spanked?” I ask hopefully, looking over my shoulder at Blake.

He chuckles. “They do get spanked,” he agrees, swatting my bottom twice in quick succession. “They also get fucked hard.”

A shiver of anticipation runs through my body. Declan tugs me back to his cock with a growl, and I grin to myself. I lick up his length, wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock and twirling my tongue around his head.

Blake nudges at my knees, and I spread them wide. “Good girl,” he says approvingly. His stubble rubs against my tender skin, sending prickles of pure heat dancing through my veins. I hold my breath as his tongue traces a path down my slit. “Fuck yeah,” he groans into my pussy. “I’m not going to be able to get enough of this.”

Then he stops speaking and gets busy. The tip of his tongue circles my clitoris, over and over again. He takes my pussy lips between his teeth, nipping gently. My lust burns dangerously out of control, and I whimper and try to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

Neither man lets me move. “Hold her, Declan,” Blake says to his buddy.

Declan’s grip tightens in my hair. “Stay where you are, Lana,” he says, sounding amused. “Unless you want to be tied down.”

A sharp spike of lust pierces me at the thought of them holding me down so I can’t squirm away, their hard bodies sandwiching me so that I’m completely under their control.

“You like that thought, don’t you?” Blake smacks my ass, the sound echoing around the deserted lake. “You’re dripping, Lana.” He spreads my pussy lips and licks my slit, before focusing once again on my clitoris. He slides two fingers into my core, twisting them around until he finds my g-spot.

“Fuck,” I groan into Declan’s cock. I can’t hold on. I’m seconds away from coming. Blake’s fingers piston in and out of me and he sucks my clitoris between his lips, and it’s too much. My orgasm hurtles toward me, and I can’t hold off. My muscles clench tighter and tighter. My entire body goes taut as I approach that cliff-edge of release. A fire of desire burns in my veins, and then my thoughts unravel, and I explode into a million quivering pieces.

Dimly, through my haze of sated pleasure, I hear the sound of a condom wrapper tear. “I’m going to fuck you, Lana,” Blake clenches out. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

“Don’t stop,” I moan into Declan’s cock. My pussy feels swollen with pleasure, but I’m greedy for the feel of a rock-hard cock in me.

I don’t have long to wait. Blake’s hands grip my hips, and he plunges into me.

My eyes roll back in my head. So good. A fresh wave of desire surges over me as Blake starts to move. His cock thrusts in and out of me, each stroke pushing me forward so I take more of Declan’s length down my throat. I can’t breathe or think; I can only feel. The smell of pine in the air, the faint breeze that wafts over my naked skin. The sound of Blake’s hips slamming into me. The way Declan’s fingers grip my hair, the way his breath catches as I bob my head up and down his shaft.

My second orgasm takes me by surprise. The first one had built gradually. This one bursts out of nowhere. I gasp into Declan’s cock as my muscles quiver around Blake’s shaft. Both men groan loudly. “I’m going to come,” Declan says harshly. His cock swells in my mouth, and he erupts down my throat. A minute later, Blake’s fingers tighten painfully around my hips, his thrusts faster and wilder, then he shouts with pleasure as he too finds his release.

We spend the rest of the afternoon together. Blake’s great-aunt not only has a cabin nearby; she also has a canoe. The three of us paddle around the lake. The conversation flows easily between us, and there’s none of the awkwardness I’d expect to feel after a hook-up. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I ask them. “A threesome, I mean. When you took my bet, you knew you’d win it.”

Blake chuckles. “Declan and I were college roommates,” he says. “We were rather wild.”

“Where did you go to college?” I haven’t failed to register that the two of them have told me almost nothing about themselves. All I know is that Blake’s here to visit his great-aunt, and Declan’s waiting to hear about a job offer, and both men are remarkably well-traveled. Beyond that, they’ve managed to change the subject every single time I’ve asked a personal question.

“Boston,” Declan replies. “What about you?”

An answer and a deflection. Well-played, Mr. Wilde.

I guess I could look them up, but it just seems too much like work, not to mention vaguely stalkerish. “Oregon State,” I reply. Before he can ask me any other questions, I jump to my feet. “Don’t the two of you have to head back?”

A shadow passes over Blake’s face. “Yeah, we do,” he says, exchanging a look at Declan. “Are you doing something on Sunday?”

“I should be writing. Why?”

“We’re driving Aunt Elvira to the county fair,” he replies. “Would you like to join us?”

His great-aunt will be around, so I’m assuming we’re not going to be knocking items off my sex bucket list. This sounds like an actual date.

It’s just a vacation fling. Sensible-Lana shows up out of nowhere to frown disapprovingly at me. Don’t get involved.

I ignore her. “Is this the county fair featuring the great banana-bread bake-off?” I ask, a grin spreading over my face. “I’m in.”

The truth is, the banana-bread isn’t the draw. Declan and Blake are. We’re making rapid progress on my sex bucket list. Too rapid, in fact.

I feel a twinge of sadness. Soon, it’s going to be over.