February 22nd

It was my birthday.

My 23rd birthday and though I hadn't reached the age yet where I looked upon birthdays as the most dreaded day of the year, I still wasn't up for all the fuss that my men were making about it.

Breakfast had been served in bed.

Their bed, as a matter of fact, where I'd been sandwiched in between their well-muscled bodies all night long.

It seemed as if my guys had some sort of a bet going amongst themselves as to which one of them would be the last one to give me the Big 'O' while I was still twenty-two.

Officially, I believe...