Page 95 of Tangled In Tinsel & Knots
“Hey!” I’m gasping for air, trying to squirm away. “Stop! That’s my cookie!”
“You want to see our best work?” Kane says between my giggles, his fingers relentless. “We need payment.”
They’re already tugging at my oversized shirt, trying to pull it up, and I’m batting their hands away weakly while laughing so hard tears are forming.
“Hey, I never agreed to that!”
They release me immediately, stepping back with matching grins that are pure mischief. Kane brings my stolen cookie to hismouth and takes a huge bite, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
“Then no show,” Noel says simply, turning away with exaggerated disappointment.
“Oh, come on!” I pout at their backs. “That’s not fair at all!”
“Then clothes off,” Kane says, finishing my cookie in one more bite.
“But it’s freezing!”
They shrug in unison and start to walk away, heading toward the stairs like they’re actually going to leave.
I should let them go. This is already treading into dangerous territory, and I’m supposed to be taking things slow. Building trust. Not jumping into bed, or couch, when I already made enough of those accidents.
They glance back at me. The heat in their eyes. The way their bodies are practically vibrating with the need to touch me, to perform for me, to give me this.
They want more. I know they do. So eager to do this, and clearly excited about the prospect of dancing just for me, that I can’t resist.
They did me a huge favor tonight. And part of me—the part that’s been aching and burning since I moved in with them—desperately wants to see them naked. Wants their hands on me and to stop fighting this pull between us.
“Fine,” I hear myself say. “But just down to my panties and tank top. That’s the deal.”
They turn back immediately, and the smiles on their faces unleash the butterflies in my stomach. “Deal,” Noel says, his voice dropping lower.
They move closer, predatory and purposeful, and Kane reaches out to tug on the hem of my shirt. “So do it.”
“Can’t I do it after you start dancing?” I’m stalling because my hands are shaking slightly and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves or anticipation.
“Fine,” Noel says. “But if you don’t strip by the end of the first song, we’ll be doing it for you.”
Heat floods through me at the threat, and my body responds immediately—nipples tightening, wetness pooling between my thighs. My pre-heat is definitely ramping up because this level of instant arousal isn’t normal for me.
“Okay, fine,” I manage, retreating back to the couch on shaky legs and grabbing another cookie just to have something to do with my hands.
The music grows louder, filling the room. Not the upbeat strip club music from the bar, but something slower. More intimate. A deep bass line that I don’t just hear but also feel sink into my bones, with a melody layered over it that’s pure seduction.
They position themselves between the fireplace and the couch, giving me a perfect view. The fire creates this halo effect, light and shadow playing across their features, highlighting every angle and plane of their faces and bodies.
I drag the blanket from the back of the couch over my lap, preparing to keep my word about stripping, and settle in to watch.
Kane moves first.
He rolls his shoulders back, stretches his neck side to side like he’s loosening up, and then his hips start moving to the beat. Slow, sensual rolls that are completely different from the energetic performance at the bar. This is intimate. Personal. Just for me.
My breath catches.
Noel joins in, his movements fluid and graceful, complementing Kane’s power perfectly. Where Kane’s motionsare strong and deliberate, Noel’s are as smooth as water, and together they create this hypnotic rhythm.
They’re not rushing but taking their time. Building anticipation with every sway of their hips, every flex of muscle.
Kane runs his hands down his own chest, over his abs, fingers hooking into his waistband but not pulling down. Just teasing. Promising. Noel turns, throwing me a look over his shoulder that’s pure sex, then slowly starts drawing up his shirt, revealing inches of skin with agonizing slowness.
