Olivia awoke slowly to feelings of a hot, gentle breeze on her neck and cocooned within the warmth of someone’s arms. She turned toward the soft breaths at her nape and opened her eyes, smiling when Dylan’s face appeared. He lay along her right side, relaxed in peaceful slumber, similar to the way he had the morning she’d snuck away from the hotel in Madrid.
She had no intensions of leaving this time.
Attempting to turn sideways and hug him closer, she lifted her left arm to discover her wrist bound firmly with a necktie to another wrist not belonging to Dylan.
Adrenaline stabbed her heart as her gaze followed the male arm from that wrist to broad shoulders and…
Her scream would’ve registered a seven on the Richter scale had anyone been monitoring.
Like mirror images of one another, the men came awake instantly. Despite her panicked struggles, they faced her, pinning her down. Their legs draped over hers. Each one shifted onto an elbow, her bound hands going with theirs.
Her chest heaved as she fought for air and sanity.
She was seeing double…feeling double as each man placed a palm across her middle.
“Oh, God. Ohgod, ohgodohgod. No.” She snapped her eyes shut, opened and looked again. “This isn’t happening.”
“Shh, puss. Calm down.”
Her gaze shot to the one on her left who spoke. “Dylan?”
He grinned with that adorable dimple in his right cheek and bright caramel eyes. She looked from him to the other man and back. Two pair of eyes, identical in color and exotic slant met her gaze boldly. But the one on the left… His hair was shorter, more like she remembered. Her heart continued to race, her mind reeling at seeing two Dylans in bed with her.
Lifting his hand to her face, the man on her left brushed a thumb over her cheek and leaned down, his lips coming within a hair’s breadth of hers.
“Beséme, Olivia,” he murmured.
Kiss me, she translated the order, as he took her mouth in a thorough kiss. He’d said the same to her two years ago in the same seductive way. His taste, scent, and the feel of his lips on hers were like a dream revisited.
The touch of a hand on her breast made her moan into his mouth. Still, he held her face with his free hand, continuing the kiss while other fingers twirled her nipple. The other hand cupped her breast in a warm grip that declared he had every right to brand her as his own. Then a second mouth captured the tip.
Heaven help her. There were two of them.