Grant shifts against the couch, not-so-discreetly readjusting his cock, and because I’m the luckiest girl in the entire world, I’m left with an even better view of his erection, which is definitely not a figment of my imagination. It’s way bigger than I thought it would be. And, yes, I have thought about how big Grant’s cock is. You would too if you saw the man.

He is six-foot-one, and two hundred pounds of rugged, sexy male. Broad shoulders and carved abs from years of working construction with his dad. And enough charm in his pinky to drop the panties of women everywhere.

Ryan has the exact same build, but everything else about him is different. Where Grant has enough scruff on his jaw to leave me wondering if a woman could truly get beard burn between the thighs, Ryan’s face is as smooth as a baby’s bottom. His hair is brown to Grant’s blond, he has a set of dimples that even the strongest woman can’t resist, and he looks oh so sexy in his firefighter gear.

Grant clears his throat, and my eyes snap up, landing on anything and everything around the room except the two men staring at me.

“You okay, Emma?” Ryan asks. “You look a little flushed.”

I wave a hand in front of my face. “It’s hot in here. Who the hell turns on a damn fireplace this time of the year?”

“It’s January, and cold as fuck outside.” Grant’s deep, husky voice travels straight to my toes, which are now curling into the cool, hardwood floor.

“Yeah, well—”

“We could play a game,” Ryan offers, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. He crosses one ankle over the other, and good God…are bare feet supposed to be sexy?

What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve seen his feet thousands of times, and not once have I given them a second glance. Maybe I’m dehydrated. I chug the entire bottle of water and set it on the table.

I adamantly shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. No games.”

“Come on,” Grant goads.

“You know what? I’m tired. I think I’m going to take a nap.” I push up from my seat, and Grant reaches across the arm of the couch. His large, callused hand lands on my thigh, and goosebumps race across my skin.

“You just got out of bed an hour ago. You’re not going anywhere, kicker,” he says, using the nickname they’d given me in elementary school.

I used to kick everything: my mom when she made me mad, Daisy when she tried to steal a toy, and even Ryan and Grant a few times. On my tenth birthday, Ryan gifted me a soccer ball, and the rest is history.

Very gently, I grab his hand and lift it from my leg.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to play another round of truth or dare with the two of you. Not after last night.”

The men share a look, and Ryan leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “We need to talk about last night.”

“No, we don’t.”

“He’s right, sweetheart. Last night shouldn’t have happened,” Grant adds.

Talk about embarrassing. Not only did they freak out at the sight of my breasts, now they want to discuss it? Absolutely not. “I am not talking about this.”

Ryan rubs his hands together. “We can either talk or play. It’s your choice.”

“We’re too old to play silly games.”

“Talk or the game. You’ve got thirty seconds to choose, or we choose for you.” Grant has never ordered me to do anything, and for a moment, I just look at him and try to decide if I want to slap him or throw myself at his feet.

I go for option C. “What game?”

“How about never have I ever?” Ryan offers me an easy smile. And sure as shit, those tiny craters in his cheeks wink at me, making it impossible to refuse.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“We each take turns making a statement that starts with ‘never have I ever.’ If you’ve done whatever the action is, you take a shot.”

Grant jumps up from his seat. “I’ll get the alcohol.”

This just spells trouble, and I refuse to make an ass out of myself twice in the same weekend. “No.”

“What she really means is yes,” Grant says, walking back into the room with three shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He pours three shots, and I don’t even bother to argue because it’s pointless with these two. Plus, drinking sounds much better than talking about last night.

Grant clears his throat. “I’ll go first. Never have I ever kissed a dude.”

Rolling my eyes, I take a shot, and so does Ryan. Grant’s eyes widen, and Ryan shakes his head. “No fucking way. You’re not getting any details.” Grant’s deep laugh booms through the room, and Ryan refills our glasses then speaks. “Never have I ever gone skydiving.”

Grant drinks.

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” I say, knowing that I’ll be the only one not drinking.

Ryan and Grant each take a shot, and instead of Grant continuing with the game, he turns a questioning look my way. “You’ve never had a threesome?”

Is he serious? I’ve barely had sex. “Nope.”

Ryan rubs his jaw and watches me. “Why not? You have no idea what you’re missing.”

I shrug. “It’s never been offered.”

Grant lifts a brow. “And if it were offered?”

Elbows on his knees, Ryan watches me, and for a brief moment, I see the heat that Daisy was talking about. His eyes aren’t just observing; they’re devouring me.

Undressing me.

Fucking me.

“Depends on who the guys are.” My voice is a little too husky, and I have to work to swallow past the lump in my throat.

Ryan and Grant share a look, and then Ryan looks at me. “What if the guys were…us?”

Oh, fuck.

My little heart can’t take this. As we speak, it’s slamming inside my chest so hard that I’m afraid I might die of a heart attack before I get any words out of my mouth. Wouldn’t that suck…keeling over before I got the chance to experience what these two have to offer? I swallow and blink and then blink again, hoping that my heart will slow down.

A vision of me crushed between Grant and Ryan pops into my head, and a wave of heat rushes through my body, settling between my thighs.

“Answer the question, Emma,” Grant softly demands. “What if it were us? What if we asked you to fuck both of us right here. Right now. Would you?”

My eyes bounce between the two men. Two guys that I have known and trusted my entire life. They would never hurt me. Never make me feel uncomfortable—aside from last night, though I think I can give them a pass on that since tits seem to make men crazy. And there isn’t a doubt in my mind that, together, they would bring me an immense amount of pleasure.

“What’s your answer, Emma?” Ryan asks.

This might be my only opportunity.

My last chance.

No way in hell am I passing this up.

“Yes.”