With Strings Attached by Kelly Jamieson

kitchen.
    “Where’d you learn how to cook so good?” Dylan asked Matt as they began to eat, still sitting on the deck. Matt didn’t have a dining table so they all had plates on their laps.
    “Just figured it out,” he said. “It’s not rocket surgery.”
    Corey looked up at him and burst out laughing. “Rocket surgery?”
    He grinned and she knew he’d said it on purpose. God, he made her laugh. “It is good,” she said. “These veggies are awesome.” He’d chopped up some garlic, added some fresh herbs he’d bought at the farmers’ market and splashed in some olive oil before tossing it into a stir fry basket and cooking it on the grill. Fresh, with a nice roasted taste.
    “How’s your steak? Big enough for you?”
    She smiled as she cut off a small piece. “No.”
    “You like it big?” Dylan said.
    She eyed him. Oh boy, here they went again. “Yes,” she said primly, looking down at her steak. “Size does matter.”
    Dylan choked on a laugh and reached for his beer.
    “Don’t even think of whipping your dick out,” Matt warned him. “She’ll take your word for it that you’re hung.”
    “Maybe I want to prove it to her,” Dylan said with an evil leer that made her laugh. Oh man.
    The sexy banter continued as they ate, continued as they washed dishes in Matt’s small kitchen, Dylan clumsy on his crutches and continually bumping into her, which she began to suspect was not accidental. Then, when Matt had left the room, he pinned her against the counter with his hips and smiled down at her. “Having fun?” he asked.
    She smiled too. “Yes.”
    “Good. Me too. I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” And he bent his head and kissed her mouth.
    His lips were warm and gentle, opening on hers, and his tongue slid into her mouth, then withdrew. Her insides immediately turned to liquid heat, pooling between her legs in a heavy ache of need. She set her hands on his chest, strongly muscled beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
    He’d just deepened the kiss when Matt’s footsteps sounded in her ears and she jerked her mouth away from Dylan’s to look up and see Matt standing in the door of the kitchen. Looking at them. His mouth was a straight line, and she caught a flash of something before he lowered his eyelids to half-mast. “Oops,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”
    She gazed at him across the room, her heart thudding in her chest with both lust and…something else. She licked her lips, sucked the bottom lip in, then licked it again. She looked up at Dylan, who in turn looked between her and Matt. A frown crinkled his forehead and he released Corey, taking a step back on his good leg. He pursed his lips.
    Corey leaned back, hands gripping the counter on either side of her. Then she saw both guys’ gazes drop to her breasts, which were pushed out by the pose she was in. She wasn’t doing it on purpose and she almost dropped her arms, and then thought…what the hell. They were both giving her hot, I-want-to-do-you looks and hell, she liked it. But it was a little awkward with both of them right there. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to choose?
    She wanted to keep her friendship with Matt. It was important to her. And even though they’d said they were free to see other people, she had this unpleasant feeling that sleeping with Dylan would change things between her and Matt.
    Dylan was only here for a few weeks. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. She could do without sleeping with him. But on the other hand, why shouldn’t she have a hot little fling with a guy she was attracted to?
    But that flash she’d seen in Matt’s eyes looked almost like…hurt. And she didn’t want to hurt him. She so did not want to hurt him.
    “I think I should go home now,” she said in a husky voice.
    Both men focused on her. Matt bent his head briefly. “Corey.”
    “Don’t go,” Dylan said.
    She looked at Matt. If he didn’t want her to sleep with Dylan, she