Chapter 19: All Three

On Thursday I went to Beckett's apartment at nine, and both of them were waiting for me in the living room.

Neither of them was sitting down.

Rowan had a printed agenda.

"Item one," he said.

"Rowan," Beckett said.

"I only thought we should establish order of..."

"Put it down."

"It is a single page."

Beckett took it out of his hand and dropped it on the floor.

Then he looked at me, and the whole room changed.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"You came."

"I'm very reliable."

Rowan was watching me, and he didn't say anything at all.

I crossed the floor, took his collar in one hand and Beckett's in the other, and pulled them both down to me.

It was a clumsy kiss, three-way and sideways, with a nose in the way and somebody's teeth.

Beckett laughed against my cheek.

Rowan turned my face toward his, found my mouth, and fixed it.

"Better," I said, when I could.

"I'm told I'm thorough," Rowan said.

"You are. Bedroom. Both of you."

The bed in Beckett's room was enormous, and I had never in my life been so grateful for a mattress.

I stood at the foot of it, and they stood on either side of me, and for a moment nobody moved.

"Tell us what you want," Beckett said, quietly.

"All of it."

"That's not a plan."

"I'm told I have a gift for those."

Beckett reached for my zipper, and Rowan reached for the buttons of my shirt.

Between them my clothes came off in about a minute and a half.

Rowan's hands were warm on my back.

Beckett knelt and kissed the inside of my knee, and then my thigh, and then he looked up.

"Can I?"

"Yes," I said, "please," and his mouth was on me, slow and hot and sure.

My knees went.

Rowan caught me from behind, one arm across my ribs, and held me up.

He kissed my shoulder and my neck and the hinge of my jaw while Beckett's tongue worked.

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