But they were.

Rowan was both of those men.

And maybe he was mine.

Chapter Twelve

Recipe: St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

From ‘Dessert Person’

I could’ve felt awkward in the aftermath of what had just happened in my bedroom. Lust burned hot and quick, and getting lost in the moment was one thing, but holding on to that intimacy after the embers had cooled was quite another.

I’d had a quick moment of paralyzing fear while I was in the bathroom getting myself together while Rowan was downstairs checking on Maggie. My heart had started hammering, and I was vaguely certain I was having some kind of cardiac episode. It was not uncommon for me. In my experience, a spiral like this would normally take at least an hour to come down from. If not longer. But I heard Rowan downstairs with Maggie. Felt his presence. My body still thrummed with what we’d just done. So my ‘episode’ came and went.

Then I got dressed. In cashmere sweats, fixing the hair that had escaped during our… activities before rubbing some errant mascara from underneath my eyes.

My cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright, glowing, emerald green. They did that when I was happy, excited, well rested. I hadn’t seen them like that in a while.

A post orgasm glow really was a thing, and something that no amount of beauty products could replicate. An orgasm a day keeps the dermatologist away.

Rowan was pouring wine into a decanter when I found my way into the kitchen, my lips stretched into what was surely a cheesy smile. I was still floating on somewhat of a high from the orgasms, everything soft around the edges.

My heart stuttered in my chest, seeing Rowan standing at my bar, hat off, pouring wine while Maggie had claimed what I’d already come to understand as ‘her’ spot.

“Thinking we might have to do a raincheck on dinner tonight,” Rowan told me after his eyes slid up and down my body.

My skin tingled from the look of hunger and appreciation on his face as he took in my simple cashmere sweater set. It skimmed over my curves, showing off my generous hips and ass, but it wasn’t something I considered ‘sexy’. But the way that Rowan was looking at me, you’d think I’d walked down here in lingerie.

Then again, he knew what I looked like in lingerie.

My cheeks warmed at the memory.

Rowan’s lips brushed the side of my mouth as he handed me a glass of wine. “Love that you still blush after I’ve seen you come hard and hot, after my cum has decorated that perfect skin.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I clutched the stem of the wine glass so hard I was surprised it didn’t snap in half. My knees almost buckled, and my chest heaved. Literally fucking heaved.

I didn’t know what to say to that. What did someone say to that?

I didn’t know, so I focused on doing what I could to keep standing and breathing.