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  The vision in her mind became a reality as both of them touched her. Light tickles, but with two different hands and she held her breath wondering what they would do next. The thought of them accidentally making contact made her want even worse, and though it had never happened, a quick flash of them touching each other elsewhere made her writhe against the wall. "Oh, yes."

  "Move." Jason attempted to keep his voice low and sexy, but there was an undertone of annoyance.

  "You move." Russell sounded as if he were in an electronics store and was about to start lecturing the clerk on what he got wrong.

  She exhaled and glanced down at them.

  Jason put one hand on each thigh and stared down her most intimate part as if it were his nemesis. "It's time for my dessert, you can return to the appetizers."

  "For an artist you need a more creative metaphor." Russell took her by her waist, narrowing his eyes at his goal. "I'm not going to mince words, I just want to taste our woman."

  She opened her mouth wanting to tell them not to bother.

  "You can have the leftovers." Jason jutted out his jaw.

  Now she crossed her arms. Why didn't they just put her in the microwave?

  "You're the one who eats cold spaghetti." Russell yanked her toward him.

  At the unexpected movement, she tripped. Though she tried to catch herself, the floor disappeared beneath her.

  "Lauren!" Somehow, Russell managed to catch her, pinning her between himself and the wall.

  "Watch it, we are trying get Lauren in the mood!" Jason reached for her. "This wouldn't have happened if we went to my room."

  Again, they returned to this insane argument and she ground her teeth together.

  "We're in front of my room." Russell aimed his chin in the direction of the door. "And that's exactly where we are making love to Lauren tonight."

  "Stop!" Before Russell could pick her up, or Jason could chide him for not doing it correctly, she wiggled out of his arms and landed right on the carpet.

  They both went to lunge for her but she held up her hand, taking a minute to look between them. Whatever irked them, she knew her boys well enough to know they wouldn't tell her right now. Maybe if she took over they would get over it or reveal what caused the strange competition. "I think I know what's wrong." A plan came to her mind and she got up on her knees.

  Once more they both reached for her.

  This time she took one of each of their hands. "I think we are doing this all wrong."

  Though two men gave her double the pleasure, they also required double the effort. Something she needed to remember. Since returning from Vegas she worked on not being self-centered, now she needed to put her promise into action. "I need for you to stand up."

  Neither of them moved.

  "Russell, Jason, stand up right now." She stared them down.

  Without question they obeyed, putting her face-to-face with two needy cocks. She rubbed her chin and looked up at them with big eyes. "I think the two of you need a little lesson in sharing."

  "What are you doing?" Russell bent down.

  "No talking." She pointed at him and then Jason. "Stand next to each other."

  They took the smallest possible sidestep toward each other.

  "Let me see if I can help." She took hold of Jason in her right hand, and Russell in her left. With all the drama, their erections had waned a bit, but within seconds of her starting to stroke them they sprung back to life.

  "Lauren." At last the tension left Jason's voice.

  "Shhh." She took a moment to study them, appreciate the differences between them. Jason presented her with a slightly curved, yet completely barren landscape, making him appear even longer. Russell's cock matched him, hard, thick, stable and perfectly straight. He didn't shave everything, instead leaving a bit of masculine hair. They literally gave her the best of both worlds.

  Russell moaned. "That's good."

  "Don't speak." She continued to stroke them and somehow guided them until they were standing shoulder to shoulder.

  A quick glance up told her they both intently watched her, as if making sure they each got equal attention, and that was the moment she decided to switch things up.

  She slid her hand down Jason's shaft and cupped his balls in her palm.

  He sucked in his breath, tilted his head toward Russell, and smiled as if he won the lottery.

  Russell pressed his lips together.

  Though she wanted to scold them for whatever game they played, she took Russell into her mouth instead.

  He held his breath, then made a noise and put one hand in her hair.

  While she continued to fondle her bad blond boy, she relaxed her jaw and took Russell in deep.

  He hit the wall and twisted her hair in his fingers.

  "More, Laurie." Jason reached down and put his hand on the back of her head.

  She looked up at him. The man may be an artist, but he was also a bit of a voyeur.

  "Take him all the way, just a little more." His eyes remained affixed on her and Russell.

  They stared at each other as she did what he asked.

  "Lauren." Russell braced himself on the wall.

  Jason crouched down next to her. "You're beautiful like this." He rubbed her nipples and leaned in, kissing her neck as she sucked off his best friend, moving up and down Russell's length and relishing in his rugged taste. She snuck her hand between her legs and continued.

  "Do Jason." Russell stopped her and pulled back. "He has to feel this."

  Her heart sped up. Russell never directed them, and though their focus was still on each other, at least they fought on the same side again.

  "Then you do her." Jason stretched behind him, found his jeans and his wallet. "We've been so busy screwing around, our girl has resorted to playing with herself."

  Damn she loved it when they called her 'their girl.' Her stomach tightened, all she ever wanted was to be theirs.

  "Forget the bedrooms, I can't wait." Russell took the condom from Jason.

  "I agree with you." Jason pushed her back on the carpet and scooted over into his position.

  As if on automatic she took hold of him, but before she took him in her mouth, Russell bent down and kissed her.

  This was the closest she'd ever seen them get to one another, and she swore his hair grazed Jason cock. Apparently Jason noticed as well because he arched his back and ran his hand through his own hair.

  "Russ." Jason cleared his throat.

  "Make love to me." She caught Jason's gaze for a moment, and she throbbed with want. Again her mind wandered as to what would happen if they stayed together long enough to stretch their boundaries even further.

  "Right now." Russell positioned himself between her legs and entered her.

  She sucked in her breath as he filled her, but now used to two men, her ache of arousal wouldn't be quenched until she had her second man. As Russell thrust into her, she turned and guided Jason to her mouth.

  He combed his hand through her hair. "I wish you knew what you looked like with your boobs bouncing in time to Russell pounding into you and my cock in your mouth. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

  "She's more than that." Russell slowed down her as he watched. "Take all of him, baby."

  The slight curve of Jason's cock made it a bit more difficult, but with their words she had no choice. She ground against Russell, closed her eyes and focused on nothing but these two men. Jason let her lead the way, but she managed to get down every last inch of him.

  "Holy shit." Russell drove into her. She raised her legs up around his neck, forcing him as deep as possible.

  "Lauren." Jason used her full name.

  Something about having them both like this liberated her. She was exposed on the floor with two cocks as far inside her as they could get, and all she wanted was more. One man would never be enough ever again.

  Together, they found their rhythm. Jason kept his movements slow and gentle. "Russ you can see h
ow far she took me." His fingers grazed her neck.

  "That's amazing. I'm there." Russell propelled into her and his fingers found her clit. "Don't stop, Lauren."

  She wanted to be a showcase for them. A living piece of art for them to contort and mold, look at and admire. The fact that they watched her with such awe, pushed her toward her own end and she bucked her hips toward Russell.

  "Are you there?" Russell found her hand.

  "I'm going to have to come." Jason took her other hand. "Lauren, are you okay?"

  Without the ability to speak, she squeezed both their hands. Her entire body tensed, and she let out a small squeak. The three of them needed to come together, it was almost like becoming one.

  Jason's cock tightened and lengthened. "I need to. Now."

  The second Jason let go she did as well. Her body pulsing in times with his.

  "Lauren." Russell pushed himself into her. "Oh God."

  Jason's warmth flowed through her, filling her with that one-of-a-kind taste only a man could produce. She dug her nails into both of their hands as her climax continued.

  Russell withdrew and then embedded himself into her once more. "Damn."

  Relief and satisfaction washed over her, but her orgasm continued, tiny delicious quivers and she reached for Russell and pulled him down, needing to feel his weight on her.

  He obliged, lowering his body on hers, and kissing her neck right where Jason's fingers were only minutes before.

  Jason pulled out and lay down next to them, taking her chin and kissing her lips. "Is she still coming?"

  Russell nodded and found her lips with his, opening his mouth and kissing her. This kiss giving her more than a jolt as normally he would wait to kiss her after Jason was in her mouth.

  "I think we need to let Lauren choose which bedroom tonight." Russell leaned up and pressed his palm to her cheek. "How about tomorrow morning, as the encore to our dinner, I'll make breakfast?"

  "Tell our chef, I have to work early in the morning and am happy with some cereal." Jason gave her a light kiss on the ear. "But you are incredible and you can pick our bed tonight."

  Shivers ran through her. The last thing she ever wanted was to choose or pick. "Maybe we should all just stay here." Maybe all of life needed to be as perfect as lying on the hallway carpet with the two men she loved.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jason never delved into photography. It was an art form he admired but never took further than one class. The medium required too much math and too many rules for him, but now he stepped through the gallery and allowed the artist's vision of a black and white Los Angeles resonate through him.

  "What do you think?" Victor came up behind him. "Tell me what you know about the artist in looking at the work."

  Jason rubbed his chin and assessed the picture. A California blonde complete with fake boobs, hair and a smile was out in the sun with her arms wide out on one side of the photo. The other side had an overweight woman crouched by a wall. No smile, nothing artificial, a fast food wrapper by her foot, as she looked toward the blonde. "It's obvious."

  "No." Victor moved in front of the photo. "Don't give me a critique, tell me what you know about the artist from the work."

  Without moving, he glanced around the space. More photos, more dichotomies, a man on the big screen and a man in the audience, one woman carrying one of the handbags Lauren had to have, one woman carrying a dirty child.

  "Whatever you think, remember it is this artist's passion, and it is the passion that sells."

  Jason closed his eyes, remembering the pictures and trying to receive the less obvious message. "Woman in her thirties, outsider in school, excelled in college, but not in love. Now she is single and bitter. She is slightly overweight but now accepts what she feels she cannot change. Her work is a sign of empowerment to the everyday real woman though she wishes she could be the blonde in her photo."

  "She's in her early forties and got married last year after her first big sale." Victor reached into his back pocket and handed him a picture. "She was bullied, tries not to eat carbs, and felt dying her hair would be a sham. However, she was never bitter, she took what was given to her and made the best of it. Her art speaks to women."

  Jason took the picture. The woman was almost exactly as he described.

  Victor plucked the photo back. "What is important is that you knew her. Like her message or hate it, she confronted the uncomfortable, she came through her art." He took Jason's arm and guided him around the far side of the wall.

  This time he was met with his art. The art he sold. One of the two book covers he needed to complete, the copy of the mural he painted for an old lady a picture of an abstract that now hung in some office building.

  "Tell me about the artist." Victor stepped closer to the wall.

  "You tell me." He wiped his brow and turned wishing Lauren, Russell or preferably, both were here. They knew him, they would tell Victor.

  "Based on this work, can you tell me about the artist?" Victor pointed to the book cover.

  The cover only depicted a stack of books as well as the author's name and book title. "The publisher asked for that." He swallowed.

  "I'm quite sure they did. What did you do, follow the instructions like a paint by number kit?"

  Yes, he followed the instructions. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Lauren even scowled at it. "I'm a working artist."

  Victor shook his head. "This is a hand for hire, this is not art. My daughter could draw this with tracing paper and a number two pencil."

  His whole body tensed and he clenched his fist. The art was shit.

  "Now come here." Victor motioned for him to follow once more.

  He paused, but joined the agent at a wall covered by a black velvet curtain.

  Victor pulled only the right side of the curtain away, and revealed pictures of Jason's last exhibit. Images of his failed exhibit. Where he stiffened before, now his legs turned spongy, didn't want to hold him.

  "I know, I know, Catherine Dumar ripped you another one, the other critics were only a little less vile."

  Sweat broke out over his body. Where was Russell when he needed him? Russell would quote the critics taking his own spin on what he saw and then site some statistic. He would then defend his art for money endeavor. Of course, Russell made money, enough to buy Lauren a trinket from that store, but the man was always on his side. One day he would remember that, instead of fighting him like he did the night of the restaurant.

  Lauren wouldn't defend his decision. No, she would look up at the pictures from his last showing and dissect exactly what made each piece special. He rubbed his eyes until stars sparkled under his lids, better to see the fake show his neurons put on for him then what he lost on that day.

  "Did anyone ever tell you what was really wrong with the art?"

  He lowered his hands and the stars faded. Every review was memorized, but none specifically said what was wrong with the art, not even Dog Dumar.

  Victor paced back and forth before the wall.

  Jason gritted his teeth, waiting for the verdict.

  Victor took out the picture of the other artist again. "What came naturally for her, you tried to force. This art isn't you. This is." In one more dramatic move, he slid the left side of the curtain away.

  He crossed his arms and moved back at what Victor presented him with. "Where did you get these?" Sketches he hadn't seen since college graced the space. In a flash he remembered drawing each one. An outline of Lauren at the library table where he had to capture how she scrunched her nose when she read something she detested. A drawing of Russell behind beakers and flasks in biochem lab. He drew while Russell did the work, they never had a better picture of a molecular structure and Russell knew all the answers. Lastly, a picture of the three of them in their first apartment. He set a mirror up and sketched them on the couch while Lauren and Russell made a horrible attempt to stay still even though he begged them to be natural. To this day it was h
ard to get them to stop striking a pose if he lifted a pad and pencil.

  "I have ways." Victor touched the one of the three of them.

  He cleared his throat and glanced down at the floor. Those pictures were his history, their history, their life. "Now what?" Somehow he felt like the man who saw the ghosts of the past and the present, but he had no future.

  "You need to create to your strength, and your passion." He approached Jason.

  Jason got himself together and faced him.

  "If you need money go to your parents' dealership. Work with what you love, create without regard to what anyone will think or what they will pay. Do that, and then you can have me as an agent." Victor turned and headed right out of the gallery.

  Jason watched him go and peeked back at the sketches. He needed to do something or he needed to quit.

  ***

  "Lauren!" Russell called to her. "Come on, it's time!"

  "Okay!" She put her hand to her chest and stared into the mirror, fixing the small smear of gloss on her lower lip, smoothing down her sweater and skirt, and adjusting her belt.

  "Lauren, are you coming from Siberia?" Russell yelled.

  She straightened up, pulled her hair over her right shoulder, the way both men preferred, and went to the kitchen.

  "Come on, we're waiting for you." Russell kicked a chair out for her and rubbed his hands together.

  Her heels clicked on the tile as she made her way to the dinette and sat down. Russell never looked up from his computer while Jason splayed himself over a chair with his arm slung over his eyes.

  "All right. Let's begin." Russell put his hand out to Jason. "Give it."

  Without moving from his position, he tossed his checkbook at Russell. A couple of pieces of paper fell out.

  Russell adjusted his glasses and began his ritual.

  He picked up one paper, tilted his head and entered something on the computer.

  Several times he repeated his action, nodding or shaking his head as he did his calculations. "How about you get us something to drink?"