The Anatomy of Jane (WJM Book 1) by LeFay Amelia

Author:LeFay, Amelia [LeFay, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Amelia LeFay
Published: 2016-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

When I woke up I noticed four things.

First, I was alone. Second, I was so damn sore—In the best possible way. Third, the note on the pillow beside me that read, We’re downstairs, take your time. W& M. I smiled because I knew they were trying to give me space to adjust. I could smell the bacon; Wes was most likely cooking. Part of me did wonder what it would have been like to wake up with both of them. The last thing I noticed was my luggage was now parked in the corner with the black dress I had worn folded on top.

Slowly sliding out of bed, I almost fell. I glanced down at my legs, grinning so wide I must have looked like an idiot. I couldn’t help it. They had legitimately fucked me until my legs went weak, even hours later. Guys always said it, but they were the first to actually live up to their promise for me.

“Wow,” I said, remembering how their hands and lips had felt on my skin. Moving to my suitcase, I took out my toiletries bag before going into the master bathroom. Facing the mirror, I stared at the hickeys on my breasts…and stomach, and neck. It looked I’d lost a battle with a vampire. Taking out my toothbrush, I made a mental note to thank Mary for whatever lipstick she had given me. It hadn’t smeared at all, and even now, I could see the faint red lipstick on my lips. Washing it off with soap was easy too.

I took a quick shower to clean my hair before drying it with a towel.

I had outfits I could have worn, including another couple cute bra and panty sets, but I didn’t bother. I grabbed Max’s light blue button-down shirt that he had just thrown in the corner and put it on. Max was always in a suit and tie while Wes wore jeans, t-shirts, and jackets—if he wore clothes at all. They were opposites in everything and yet it worked.

“You got this Jane,” I whispered to myself right in front of the door before stepping out.

“That’s your second cup of tea already?” Max asked, biting into his French toast. Both of them wore nothing but their boxer briefs.

“Why the fuck are you counting?”

“For a man who complains about British stereotypes, you sure are quick to prove them right.”

“Can my stereotypically British ass drink in peace now that you’ve expressed your inner asshole, or do need you get another jab in?” Wes said, sipping his tea.

“I’m sure there is a gay joke in there somewhere,” Max replied and I laughed out loud.

They both turned to me and it was a bit intimidating, their eyes wandering down my body and then back up to my face.

“Mornin’.” I waved walking over to them. “Is there anything for me?”

“No, we were actually planning on letting you starve,” Max muttered, bringing his coffee up to his lips.

“Don’t mind him.” Wes ignored him, smiling at me as he put a plate of French toast, bacon, and eggs in front of me.

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