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nearly naked bodies pressed against her own. Sandwiching her between them. Both mouths and four hands roaming over her needy body. A shiver rushed through her.
    "One last hand," she agreed.
    "Winner take all," Jeremiah said in a low voice, and that sent a bolt of heat through her. What was there to take? Other than their bodies. A visual of her pinned between them, one feeding his cock into her mouth as the other rammed her from behind – rolled through her mind like a hurricane.
    The three of them stood around her small dining room table, watching with strangely tense faces as Sam slowly dealt three more hands, and Miko turned her hand over. Three aces. He’d obviously given her the winning hand this round. She laid the cards out on the table and glanced over at Sam. "So, how many rounds were   really  dealt?"
    His mouth lifted at the corners and he gave a little shrug. "Were we not supposed to cheat?"
    She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. "So how am I supposed to know if this was just an excuse to see me naked?"
    "Are you going to tell me you’re not even slightly interested in seeing my cock?" He gestured at Jeremiah. "Or his?"
    She didn’t like how Sam was trying to take control of the situation. Or rather, she liked it, but she knew that if she wanted to keep them in control, she needed to take charge once more. So she slid over to Jeremiah and cupped his straining cock. "I have a feeling that if I wanted to see this, we wouldn’t have to play games. All I need to do is ask."
    Jeremiah brushed his fingers along her jaw, a look of longing on his face.
    "However," she said softly, "that won’t be tonight. I want to be the one to call the shots. Understand? My body, my house, my rules."
    With that, she left the room.

Chapter 6

     
    The next day, she avoided the two men. Partly because she wanted them to understand that she had the upper hand in their relationship, and partly because she needed to get her head back in her work. She had a deadline, and she was going to miss it if she didn’t pay attention and start producing some pages. So she locked herself in her studio and worked. About midday, there was a knock at the door, and she answered it, only to see a sandwich and soda had been left for her. The deliverer was nowhere in sight.
    It was nice to have someone fixing her lunch. The men seemed to respect her boundaries. And she could have sworn that a short while later, she heard the vacuum running.
    After she’d gotten her daily allotment of panels drawn (and then some, she’d been on an artistic tear), she emerged from her study.
    Her house had been cleaned, top to bottom. Floors swept, rugs vacuumed, and her shelves gleamed as if they’d been dusted. Even the burned out lightbulbs on her track lighting had been replaced. Miko knew she was a pretty terrible housekeeper – when the urge to draw came upon her, she tended to ignore everything else, and since it was just her in the house, it didn’t matter if a few lightbulbs went unchanged or an inch of dust piled up. But seeing that someone else had cleaned her house for her? That was…nice.
    She could get used to having the guys around. Putter around the house, fix her leaky faucets…satisfy her needs. Ugh. Surely she wasn’t thinking relationship? Or worse,  relationships . They’d barely even gotten past the flirting.
    Still, she found she couldn’t shake the thought.
    A head poked out of her kitchen. Sam looked over, grinning, and waved a spatula. "Hey, dinner’s almost ready. How do you like your steak?”
    "Rare," she replied automatically. "I’m a fox, remember?" She liked a fresh kill as much as any other were-creature.
    "Oh, I remember." He winked at her and again the spatula waved. "Everything about you is tattooed into my brain."
    "Only your brain?"
    “For now.” He grinned, the look so boyish and appealing that it was hard to resist.
    She found herself smiling back. "Where’s Jere?"
    "Upstairs. Working."
    She nodded,