Macy James didn’t ask for two hot firefighters as neighbors, and she sure didn’t plan on falling for them both. But she can’t possibly choose one over the other. They’re sweet and sexy as sin, but also best friends, co-workers and roommates. There’s no way she’s getting between that. But when getting between them suddenly becomes literal, she would have to be crazy to say no.
Macy James tapped her toe impatiently as she waited for the always slow elevator and hoped it didn’t smell like piss in there today. Normally she didn’t bother using it, but with her arms full of groceries and her legs still burning from yesterday’s run, she didn’t want to even try the stairs.
The run had been an attempt to get her sexy firefighter neighbors out of her mind, but unfortunately it wasn’t effective at anything but making her legs hurt like hell. And because of it, three floors seemed too intense a climb with the heavy load. Hell, she could barely hobble along on flat ground today. Yep, it was completely pathetic.
The elevator door finally dinged and opened. Macy set down the heaviest bag before she pressed the button for the third floor but then
they walked through the building entry and her foot reached out a little too eagerly to stop the elevator door from closing.
It was the polite thing to do, if only she could convince herself that was the reason she did it, that it wasn’t because she wanted an excuse to be stuck in a small space with them, even if it was for less than a minute.
Jake and Tristan, her neighbors for the past six months, exuded sex appeal in jeans. They were both hot as hell. Bulging muscles rippled beneath two plain white t-shirts. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on either of their six-foot frames, and she had to remind herself to breathe as they got into the elevator with her.
“You guys look beat. Long day at work?” She was just starting polite conversation with her neighbors. Really. But her pussy sure as hell shouldn’t be throbbing like it was.
“Yeah.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, dark and thick, and she wished she was the one running her fingers through it—as he kissed her, rough, taking everything.
Jesus, Macy, get a grip.