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  Cory awoke on his back with a leg thrown over Ford's who lay sleeping on his stomach beside Cory. Enough space for another body stretched between them, particularly a slender, shapely body that was nowhere in sight.

  Groggy and disoriented after barely two hours of sleep, Cory raked a hand over his face, yawned, and sat up. Where the hell did she go? The answer came to him on the next breath. Coffee, so freshly brewed when he trained his ears on the sound, he heard the pot still percolating. Paradise, very likely in the form of both one steaming cup of java and a naked female, awaited him in the kitchen.

  He left Ford's room, intending to detour to his own room for a pair of shorts or jogging pants. He stopped two steps in the hallway when his gaze flicked to the kitchen and he spotted Rayne. Paradise, indeed. She stood at the counter, one bare leg slightly bent, the tip of her toes touching the floor. She wasn't naked, but the shirt she wore stopping midway down her creamy thighs looked sexier than if she had been. Her hair was down, her glasses on, and the fingers of one hand curled around a coffee cup. The morning newspaper laid spread on the countertop and her head was bent, angled slightly as she read.

  All intentions fled as lust and the second stirrings of love mixed in his loin, his gut, his chest. Second stirrings because he'd already recognized the first the moment he laid eyes on her. Yeah, as hokey as it sounded, what he felt for her had been love at first sight.

  He must have made a sound, maybe a whimper or a moan as his gaze eased over the incredible smoothness of her thigh, her knee, her shin, even her freaking foot, because her head came up and she looked directly at him. The smile came first, slow and deliberate and completely gorgeous. Her gaze, too, went for a dive and her eyebrows winged up. She licked her lips. His cock throbbed at the sight.

  "Good morning." Her voice sounded smooth as honey. It was more of an aphrodisiac than Viagra.

  Cory cleared his throat. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

  "I did. Coffee or sex?" Her gaze locked with his and her eyes smoldered.

  He'd woken up with a hard-on. What healthy man in his early thirties didn't? He hadn't come in search of her because of that. Still, when she put it that way, who was he to argue? He moved to her, stopping closely enough that his chest brushed her arm.

  "Coffee first." He took the cup from her hand and drank deep. It needed sugar and more cream, but it had plenty of caffeine. He replaced the cup on the counter. "Sex second." He caught her by the waist and spun her around, her front to his.

  She made a sound that was part breathy yelp, part laughter, and complete sultry sin. Her nipples turned to hard little balls against his chest. He felt that even through the material of the shirt she wore. She looked up at him from beneath long, dark lashes and his stomach did acrobatic flips even as his balls tightened painfully with desire.

  "You are so freaking beautiful," he whispered. He held her and simply looked at her. God, he loved looking at her! "I like this look on you. The glasses, hair down around your shoulders, too large shirt." He growled, "It's times like this that I wish I had a camera." He purposely used the same words she’d last night, knowing she’d recognize them and smile. Yep, it worked.

  "I commandeered the shirt. I hope you don't mind."

  "It's Ford's, but it looks better on you." He glanced down. "You missed a few buttons." Actually, she'd missed several. By his quick calculation, she'd fastened every other button starting with the one that gathered exactly at the center point between her breasts. Since there weren't that many buttons on the shirt, he figured he had only five total to unfasten before he'd have a very naked, very gorgeous woman in his arms again.

  "I got lazy." Her lids drooped as his face neared hers. "And I didn't see the point in doing them all if I planned to take it off again shortly, anyway."

  "For me and Ford?" He brushed his lips to her eyebrows. "Were you waiting for one or both of us to wake and have our wicked way with you again, Rayne?" He kissed the tip of her nose and then found her lips in a kiss so soft, it made both of them moan.

  "We can go with that." Her lips twitched. "My clothes are on the living room floor."

  Her arms were around his neck and she twirled the hair at his nape with one finger. It felt good. His eyes wanted to close, to focus only on that one morsel of pleasure. He kept them open. That wasn't the only pleasure he wanted now.

  "I thought you might want some breakfast."

  "I do." He lifted her, loving the way her body easily molded to his, her legs opening without urging, so he could step between them. He set her on the counter. He'd always hated the low standing counters in this apartment. For two men topping six feet plus, it was often an aggravating inconvenience. Not now, though. The shortness of the counter, coupled with his own height, put Rayne's sweet heat right where he wanted it, in line with his marble hard cock.

  She let out another breathy laugh. "I meant the edible kind."

  "Okay. If that's how you want it again. I find as much pleasure in that for myself as for you." He started to bend down, but she caught his shoulders. He smiled at the amused warning dancing in her eyes. Yeah, he was purposely turning everything she said into another of those double entendres, but she made it easy. He leaned in and nipped her bottom lip.

  She moaned. "Hmm, I meant toast, bacon, eggs."

  "Sounds good." He dipped, shoving the side of the shirt aside with his nose and finding one hardened and ready nipple with his tongue. He traced the pebbled surface. "How about we make that third?" He sucked her breast into his mouth, reveled in the way she shuddered in his arms, and relished the taste of her smooth flesh.

  Her legs locked around his waist, heels digging into the upper part of his ass. "Third it is. Can we focus on second now?" She tightened her legs around him, drawing him closer. Her legs were spread just right, the height and angle perfect, and he nearly entered her before he stopped himself.

  His hands were between the counter and her ass and he squeezed her cheeks, holding her still. "Rayne, condom. Do I need one?" He straightened to meet her gaze. This was too important a question for her to be distracted.

  She looked at him, a keen awareness and intensity in her eyes. "I'm on the pill." Her hand found his nape again, fingers lacing in his hair. "And I'm clean."

  "So am I. I’m tested regularly." Such things as STD testing had become routine in the physicals required by the department. He held his breath, both afraid to hope and hoping to his toes that she would allow him to take her without a condom. Apparently, two was his lucky number today because she tightened her legs even tighter around him, drawing him inside her body.

  "Then it sounds to me like we're…" She trailed off as he joined with her pull, and pushed his cock all the way inside her fiery channel. "Covered," she finished on a sigh of pure ecstasy. Her fingers in his hair fisted and pulled, the sharp edges of pain a thrilling sensation as he stopped with his cock buried in her to the hilt.

  "Rayne, baby, there's no way I'm going to last long. Not like this." She was tight and wet and freaking hot! Being inside her skin-to-skin felt out of this world fantastic. He could have forced himself to think of the complete list for a stocked drug box on the rescue truck and he still wouldn't have lasted any longer.

  "Good." She scooted on the counter, the movement wiggling her curvaceous body against his front and on his cock, and he groaned. He pulled back, slipping out of her, then plunging back in again. "Because I won't last long, ei-ther." She all but squealed as she started to come apart in his arms.

  * * * *

  Rayne knew breakfast was thought to be the most important meal of the day. She considered that to be a good thing given the many days when it was the only meal she remembered to eat. Her body knew it, too. Which could be why her stomach had awoken her and dragged her from an immensely comfortable position between two incredibly well-maintained and warm bodies to the kitchen. This morning's breakfast already proved to be, not only important, but utterly delicious, and it contained a new special ingredient. Yes, she could
quickly get used to her morning meal starting off with a cup of coffee with a side of Cory before her bacon and eggs. She also knew she'd be going back for a second helping before she even started to cook the third course if she didn't divert her thoughts. Christ! One would think she'd had enough.

  She opened the refrigerator and cast a glance over the door and across the hall as Cory exited his bedroom and walked to her. He'd put on a pair of gray jogging pants, but his chest and feet were bare, his dark hair mussed. Her body reacted viscerally to the sight, her nipples tightening and her core heating. Nope. No way had she had enough.

  "What do you like in your omelet?" She tore her attention from tempting angles and wicked muscles and peered into the fridge. For a couple of bachelors, it was impressively stocked and shockingly organized. Cartons of juice and milk, jugs of tea, and what appeared to be lemonade, sat on the top shelf among a scattering of water bottles, energy drinks, and soda cans. She saw packs of sandwich meat and smoked sausage in the meet drawer and enough vegetables to stock a salad bar in the veggie drawer. Condiments of every variety known to mankind sat in the slots within the door and neatly stacked Tupperware containers occupied the remaining shelves. Was that leftovers from last night's dinner in those containers?

  Rayne shot Cory a glance. "Who cleaned and put away, and when?" It hadn't clicked that she should've walked into a filthy kitchen this morning with spoiling food on the stove and counter and a sink of overflowing dishes. Instead, the rectangular area looked as shiny as a new penny. What was the bet that the table in the dining area had been cleaned, too?

  "Ford did it after you went to sleep." Cory leaned a shoulder against the archway of the kitchen and crossed his arms. The pose made his muscles stand out in a tantalizing display that made every one of her erogenous spots sizzle to life and take notice. "It's an unspoken rule around here. I cooked, he cleaned, and vice versa."

  "I like that rule." She beamed at him. "Especially since I'm doing the cooking now."

  "I could help. We could leave the cleaning to Ford and…" He ended the sentence with a suggestive waggle of his brows.

  Rayne laughed. "That sounded like a suggestion he would've made." Still, she couldn't deny it had its appeal. But what rocked her juices more was the idea of watching both men clean. And wasn't she becoming the deranged chickie, getting aroused by the thought of two men cleaning a kitchen, for Pete's sake. She supposed it answered one thing. She obviously hadn't lost the nymphomaniac traits she discovered last night.

  "When you live with a guy for a long time, he tends to rub off on you. Not going for it, huh?" Cory tsked and reached for her cup of coffee, taking a huge sip. He made a face and put the cup back on the counter. What coffee remained in the cup had to be cold by now.

  "What I'm going for now is option number three." She stuck her head back in the refrigerator, pulled out a dozen eggs, and sat them on the counter behind her. There was something to be said for a narrow kitchen space, she decided. Even she could reach from one side to the other without much of a stretch. She found mushrooms, jalapeños, cheese, onions, and ham and placed them on the counter with the eggs.

  "Why don't you make us another cup of coffee and tell me about your family while I fix breakfast? Then we'll wake up sleeping beauty in there, feast on a truly delicious cholesterol laden meal, after which I'll have another cup of coffee while I watch my men clean before I leave." Completely unsatisfied and thoroughly aroused by that time, she was sure. But she couldn't very well stick around here having sex all day.

  Well, okay, she supposed she could, but it wouldn't be wise on many levels, the most simplest of which being that she had things to do that didn't include her men. And didn't that sound comical in a very not funny but bone tingling, scary way? Her men. She mentally rolled her eyes even as her heart tripped and skipped in her chest and her belly did some really crazy unnamed dances. She'd not only thought the phrase but said it several times now. Already, those two words, her and men, slid off her tongue far too easily. Of course, where the objects of those words were concerned, words weren't the only things that would slide off her tongue if she let it.

  Okay, down girl. Not going there right now.

  "Where are you going?" Cory reached over the still-open fridge door and snagged the container of liquid Coffee Mate.

  Places I have no business going. But that wasn't what he meant by the question and she knew it. Ford might look like Anakin Skywalker's slightly older twin brother, but Cory wasn't Obi-Wan Kanobi and he certainly didn't possess the powers of the Force such as mind reading.

  "Across the hall for starters. I need clothes." She opened a cabinet to the left of the stove, figuring it to be the most likely place for mixing bowls. What do you know? She was right. She pulled one out, set it on the counter, and cracked an egg on the rim.

  "We could put that matter up for debate." Cory shot her a wink that would have come across as more pure arrogance on Ford's boyishly handsome face, but with Cory's chiseled looks, it came across more playful. He probably intended it that way.

  Yeah, and in a house with these two, she would definitely lose any debate that pertained to clothes. "But we won't." She glanced at him and tried not to wince at the amount of cream he poured into the cup. Since he'd failed to get a cup of his own, she deduced they were sharing. Sharing was good in a relationship, no matter what the kind or level of intensity. She could give and take as much as the next lover. A bit too much cream in her coffee would simply add to her calcium intake for the day. Did creamer even have calcium? Come to think of it, she doubted it did. She made a mental note to check the label for future reference.

  "I also have a dog to walk, feed, and let know she hasn't been abandoned again just because Mommy left her all night, a meeting with Kyle Shannon this afternoon to get his pictures for the calendar, and then both your pics and Kyle's need to be processed." She took a breath, found a knife and chopping board, and began dicing vegetables.

  "Busy day," Cory commented and passed her the now fixed cup of coffee.

  She drank, wrinkled her nose, and said, "Yak. You put sugar in it."

  "I like sugar in my coffee." He took the cup back but didn't drink. "Why do you want to know about my family?

  To combat any further conversation about my need, or lack thereof, for more clothes. To give me something more to think about other than this grueling desire and evil arousal making my body hum and my mind crazy.

  Rayne shrugged and stirred the veggies into the omelet mix in the bowl. "Small talk. Besides, I want to know more about you."

  Oh, damn. That was as much the truth as her other unspoken reasons. She really did want to know more about him. She wanted to know his likes and dislikes, his favorite things, what made him tick, personal stuff. People who were merely lovers, in it for nothing more than the sex didn't get personal. Julia Roberts said as much in Pretty Woman. Not that Rayne was a prostitute or anything close, but in theory, a full-blown, sex-only relationship was largely the same sort of concept. Wasn't it?

  She went on, "Ford told me a little about his family, his parents and their careers, his sister, even his grandparents." And that had been intensely personal. Especially the little he told her about his sister. She'd died. How horrible that must have been for him to live through!

  Yeah, that conversation had started out as small talk and he hadn't gone into detail about his sister. Still, they had both revealed a good deal of personal information before getting busy in the passenger’s seat of her little ION.

  "He told you about Sicily?" Cory sounded surprised by that. No doubt the death of a sibling was something Ford didn't discuss often with anyone. It would be far too painful a memory to dredge up.

  Rayne bent, pulled a skillet from one of the lower cabinets closest to the range, and set it on the front burner. "Not much more than that she had been his sister and passed away. He didn’t even tell me her name was Sicily. Pretty name for a girl, though."

  "His parents used to joke that they drove a Ford
to get to Sicily." Cory smiled, his gaze distant and obviously lost in memory. Then he snapped out of it, took a drink from the cup, and slid it across the counter toward her. He stepped back as she shuffled by him to pull the smoked sausage from the meat drawer of the fridge, returning to his GQ model pose of arms crossed and shoulder leaning in the kitchen archway. "As for myself," he continued, "I have a brother and a full set of parents."

  "Older or younger? Your brother, I mean." Rayne moved back to the stove and set to work on cooking their breakfast. She didn't fail to notice the way he reverted the conversation to himself. Not wanting to talk about his best friend's grief? Or did he possess a grief of his own over the subject of Sicily? Rayne suspected both were true and let it go.

  "Younger by two years. A fact that's always driven him nuts. Cody really hates to be called the baby of the family."

  Rayne smiled. "And despite your overwhelming sweetness, I bet you love to rub that fact in as often as possible."

  "You bet! What are brother's for?" He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug.

  "And your parents don't smack you for taunting your baby brother?"

  He chuckled. "They did, but it's been a few years since they tried. Cody's pretty good at taking up for himself these days. I'd say it's been about three months since he chased me around our parent's yard with a hammer."

  That memory obviously amused him. Rayne cast a quick glance in his direction as she flipped an omelet and found him grinning from ear to ear. She pursed her lips. "Why a hammer? I'm guessing it was the closest weapon available at the time."

  "It was, as it always is. My brother is a contractor. He followed in the old man's footsteps. Ever heard of Nox Framing and Building?

  She had. "That's your family? I didn't put two and two together."

  "Most people usually don't."

  "And your mother, what does she do?" Rayne switched her attention to the frying sausage, turning the strips one at a time to brown the other side.

  "She keeps the books for the business, sets the appointments for the jobs, basically all the secretarial duties."