The only response Cole gives me is a chin lift in Trace’s direction, wordlessly ordering me to cross the room.
I wipe my slick palms on my yoga pants and move my feet. When I reach Trace, I pause in the spread V of his legs and silence the impulse to hug my waist. Then I drag my gaze to his.
“Cross your arms together as high as you can behind you.” He grips my thighs and pulls, forcing me to shuffle closer, until my shins touch the front of the couch.
I fold my arms across my back and clutch my elbows. The uncomfortable position pushes my breasts out and shoulders back, magnifying my blooming nerves.
“Perfect.” Cole steps behind me and gathers my hair, roping the waist-length strands over my shoulder and down my chest.
“Are you going to watch?” I ask Trace in a shaky voice.
“I’m going to restrain you.”
The heat in my face rushes to my core, leaving a shiver in its wake. “Did you plan this? I mean, did you guys talk about how you would choreograph it?”
“We discussed the logistics.” Trace’s cool expression reveals nothing.
I don’t believe for a minute that he’s all right with this arrangement. I’d love to know how that conversation went. On second thought, maybe not, considering it ended with him pulling a gun on Cole.
“Since you’re both going to be here…” My throat scratches, and I cough. “You’re leaving my pants on, right?”
I’m held immobile by Trace’s pale blue eyes, but it’s Cole’s hands on my hips that seize my breaths.
His thumbs hook beneath my waistband, and my shoulders tighten. Then he yanks my pants to the floor, taking my thong with them.
My lungs freeze up, and I lose my grip on my elbows behind me.
“Don’t move your arms.” Trace shoots me a flinty glare and lowers his gaze.
I tremble as he scrutinizes my naked body below the waist. Why do I suddenly feel so insecure? I’m a dancer, totally comfortable in my skin. But dammit, it’s been weeks since I trimmed down there.
“I haven’t shaved.” I shift my weight, squirming with vulnerability. “I didn’t know…I would’ve prepared…” Stop rambling. Idiot.
“You weren’t expecting anyone to see you nude.” Cole lifts my foot, then the other, sliding my pants off and tossing them away. “It validates what I already knew.” He runs a hand along my leg. “In five weeks, you never tried to hook up with another man.”
“No.” God, no. I didn’t even consider it.
“I prefer it like this.” Trace stares at the blonde patch of hair between my legs. “I never understood why women want to infantilize their bodies.”
“It’s cleaner and more visually appealing.”
“It’s child-like. But this…” He bends forward and breathes in, slow and deep. “The hair traps your pheromones, which are odorless, detected subconsciously, and stimulate arousal.”
Oh my God. I bet my face is crimson. If the floor opened up and swallowed me whole, I’d welcome the fast exit.
Cole steps around me and gives my pussy the same examination. Then he glares at Trace, and his hand flexes at his side, his chest rising and falling.
“Okay, show-and-tell time is over.” I pivot away, dropping my arms.
“Hold still.” Trace grabs my waist and turns me back. “Why are you uncomfortable? I’ve seen every inch of your body countless times, and it’s safe to assume he has, too.”
“Not at the same time.” My neck tenses.
“What’s making you nervous?” Cole touches my chin, nudging my gaze to him.
“I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy…” My voice drops to a whisper. “The attention. But I’m considered about how this is affecting you guys. You said you won’t share, and if this makes you uneasy—”
“We’re not sharing,” Trace says.
“We’re compromising.” Cole crosses his arms over his chest.
“I guess I don’t understand the difference.” I tug on the hem of the shirt, stretching it toward my thighs.
“Stop fidgeting.” Trace pries my fingers from the material.
The song streaming in the background comes to an end, and the sudden silence amplifies the heaving sound of my breaths.
I point at the stereo. “I’ll go select another—”
“Arms up.” Cole pins me with an unyielding glare.
I open my mouth to argue, but the words stick in my throat. I’m making this awkward because I don’t want them to feel awkward. Except they don’t seem distressed or troubled. I need to remember they’re in control here, orchestrating every step. For reasons I can’t figure out, they want to do this together.
With a steeling breath, I raise my arms.
My insides coil with nervous energy as I stretch my arms over my head.
Cole yanks my shirt up and off. With a flick of his fingers, he unclasps my bra and takes that, too, leaving me completely nude and shaking all over.
“Straddle my lap.” Trace leans back, sinking deeper into the couch. “And return your arms to the folded position behind you.”
Cole shifts to the side, lashes hooded over warm, seductive eyes that make my blood burn.
With my arms locked together at my back, I slide onto Trace’s lap, the stiff denim of his jeans brushing against the backs of my thighs. His legs are sprawled so wide I have to stretch out to straddle him, which I’m sure is the intent. It puts me fully on display with my bare ass in the air.
“Cole won the dispute over who gets to punish you,” Trace says at my ear, raising goosebumps along my spine. “I wanted to be present while he administered it, but I don’t relish the thought of watching him touch you.” His gaze flicks over my shoulder, and his voice takes on a deadly edge. “In this position, he gets a phenomenal view of your ass and pussy.”
“But Trace gets to see your beautiful face.” Cole moves behind me, trailing fingertips over the curve of my backside. “He gets to watch every sexy little nuance in your expression as the burn releases chemicals in your brain and morphs into pleasure.”
I’m still struggling to reconcile how they’re okay with this, how Cole is tolerating my naked body spread out over Trace, and how Trace isn’t knocking Cole’s hand away as it slides down the crack of my ass.
I gasp as those fingers dip between my legs to trace the slit of my pussy.
Trace reaches behind me and grips my arms, pinning them tight against my back. His other hand wraps around my neck, holding my face in front of his. “Tell me why you’re being punished.”
“I gave up on both of you.” My stomach bottoms out, and I choke on a ragged breath. “I should have stayed and fought for you.”
He touches his brow to mine, his warm breath like an erotic kiss against my mouth. “I love you.”
“I love y—”
A blazing sting shoots across my backside, the pain so razor-sharp I don’t register the smacking sound of Cole’s hand until the echoes through the room.
“Dammit!” I twist to glare at him over my shoulder. “You could’ve warned me.”
“That was your warning.” He rears back his arm.
I return to Trace, teeth clenched, and brace for impact.
“Breathe, Danni.” Trace holds my arms against my back and cups my face in his strong hand. “Deep breaths.”
My lungs release as the next strike lands with a heavy smack. Fire spreads across my buttocks, permeates skin and muscle, and jars my bones. Fucking hell, it hurts, and he’s just getting warmed up.
It doesn’t take long for him to let loose. His breaths grow shallow, and fewer pauses come between the hits. The pain is all-consuming, stealing my air, watering my eyes, and blistering every nerve-ending in my lower body. But Trace holds me steady, in his hands, in the strength of his unflinching gaze.
I’ve been spanked by both of them more times than I can remember. Nothing compares to this…this dichotomy of staring into the eyes of one man while another pummels my backside. Every blow Cole delivers is meant to penetrate and arouse, and the panting sounds of Trace’s breaths heighten the thrill. I already feel the pleasure gathering inside me, coiling, heating, and throbbing between my legs.