When she twitched half asleep trying to get into a more comfortable position, she clenched, hissing when her side fought back.

“Michelle?”

Four hands were instantly cradling her, supporting her.

She grimaced. Then there was that. Her scar. Just the idea of exposing it made her shudder. Okay, maybe she was more self-conscious of it than she’d originally wanted to believe. Now she had someone, two someones, who might see it, a situation she’d never once imagined. Her mouth turned down at the depressing realization. She’d made great leaps of faith to be alone with not one, but two men, to have stood in the kitchen without flinching while Troy prepped dinner. For the first time really, she was feeling normal. Around these two men, it felt like normal.

A tight muscle spasm returned her to the problem at hand. She let out a breath as it passed.

“It’s nothing. I worked too hard on the weights today.” She tried to sit and Troy held her steady, close. She couldn’t move, though she knew if she really asked, he’d let her up.

“No, that’s the third time you’ve done that.”

“Second,” she corrected.

“Good, now you can’t deny it.”

She lifted enough to glare at Troy. “You tricked me.”

“Where does it hurt?” He didn’t look in the least repentant, watching her like a hawk.

They kept her spread on the couch between them, watching her intently.

“You’re not moving until we know you’re not seriously hurt. People get injuries all the time playing games they’re not used to.”

“But that’s a low impact one. I know it is.”

“Besides the point,” Angel added, apparently taking an equally protective stance.

She sagged. “I’m fine. Why don’t you guys go home tonight? You can come pick it all up tomorrow.” Michelle was ready for them to go, to try to forget how they made her feel, to forget how good their hands felt on her. Their attention was addictive. She throbbed in places that had ceased to matter. Heat and wanting continuously invaded the more they pampered her.

“Michelle,” Troy groaned through her name. “You aren’t getting rid of us like that.” Lifting her chin, he touched her lips with his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You can tell us.”

She was melting and sparking at an unbelievable pace. Shudders filled her when his lips brushed hers and shivers raced up her body to circle her spine when Angel began massaging her bare legs in earnest. His firm fingers caressed and kneaded her calves, working the skin gently behind her knees to slide back down and mold to her feet, one at a time. Her breasts began to ache with the same rhythm of Angel’s talented fingers.

“Mm, strong feet,” he murmured. He raised a leg and dropped slow kisses from her arch to the top of her foot to her ankle. “Sexy feet.”

She blinked. “A foot fetish?”

Angel shrugged, an evil grin flitting over his devilish mouth. “A small one. Do you mind if I shower your feet with adoration?”

Her mouth popped open, then jerked closed on a breathed groan, her eyes fluttering as pleasure zinged into her body. “Oh, not fair,” she managed, her lungs tripping hard, trying to remember how to breathe.

Angel swirled his tongue around her big toe at the same time Troy wrapped his arms around her body to cup her breasts.

“Where do you hurt, baby?” Troy whispered.

Hurt? She couldn’t remember why she’d been in pain, their combined caresses and touches sweeping her brain blank.