Before I know it, we’re cuddled up on the couch, my head on his shoulder or his on mine, both quiet and at ease. Our hands are the same size. We wear the same shoe size, too. His thigh, next to mine, is the same. When we stand face to face, we’re exactly eye to eye. If he hugs me, I feel his heart beating right up against mine. Beat for beat.
Of course, when Nick is home, he watches us out of the corner of his very perceptive eye. I know he sees how similar Myles and I are, and I’m sure he can’t help wondering just how alike we really are…
I have these thoughts, these fleeting images of Nick and Myles kissing, and it turns me on in a way I can’t control. That’s definitely new. You know how possessive, how primalI can get when it comes to sharing Nick, and yet, here I am scheming, thinking of ways to get Nick to loosen up long enough to allow Myles to work some of his quiet O’Reilly magic on him.
What new devil has its claws in me now?21: It’s Always Better with a Dollop of Cream