Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the sensation of his cockhead breaching her. Pure pleasure swamped him. So fucking tight. She was so tight. And right. He had to be careful, had to check that primal instinct that told him to mark this woman in every way he could. He had the urge to slam inside her but she was precious to him, so he took his time. Circling her, rimming her and thrusting in short passages.
He nearly forgot how to breathe when she relaxed and he slid fully inside.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Bay said, his voice shaky.
“Speak for yourself,” Brooke shot back, sounding beleaguered. “I’m too full. You’re both too big.”
Bay laughed and Shane felt it, the low rumble moving across his cock. “We are not. We fit just right. Show her, Shane.”
He carefully eased out, tilting so he rubbed every nerve.
Brooke gasped and her back bowed, coming up off Bay’s chest.
“That’s right, baby,” Bay crooned. “That’s what we want.”
She clenched around him and he damn near lost it. Shane took a deep breath and gave her another thrust and then a slow retreat. She cried out, and that was all it took.
They were off, this dance between the three of them his whole world now.
All that mattered was finding the rhythm that brought them together, that melded the parts of his soul he feared he would never find, never feel slide into place like a puzzle he’d known he would never solve.
She was the solution.
She called out, her body going stiff as she rode out her orgasm.
It sparked his own, shooting pleasure through his body. The sensation seemed to last forever as he kept thrusting in and pulling out, and when he was completely spent he fell forward and the three of them were in a pile on the bed.
The moment was warm and intimate and perfect. It was everything he’d ever wanted from a woman. She was between them.
“See, that would not have worked in the tiny house,” Brooke said, still dragging air into her lungs. “I don’t know how my brothers make that work.” She hissed. “Eww. I did not need to think about that.”
Bay laughed, looking younger and more free than he ever did. He rolled over and kissed their soon-to-be wife. “Well, baby, we’ll have to give you something else to think about. We should change places.”
Brooke was smiling even as she argued.
Shane laid back, ready for everything the night had to offer.
* * * *
Brooke Harper soon-to-be Kent looked around the gallery and realized everything was coming together. Finally. She’d spent all of her life working slavishly toward a goal only to figure out the job wasn’t the destination. They were.
“He’s got such a unique perspective,” one of the New York influencers was saying as he studied a big canvas Bay called The Cowboy Retires. It was an oil painting he’d done from a sketch he’d made while on the rodeo circuit. The painting had a haunting quality to it.
Brooke could never put a real finger on what it was about Bay’s work that touched her. It was more than his masterful use of color and shadow. More than the rustic lines of his sculptures. There was somehow a glow to all of Bay’s work. Like it was lit from within, as though he placed a piece of his soul in every work of art.
“It says so much.” A second man stood next to the influencer. This one was gorgeous in his brand-new suit and tie that made her kind of want to rip them off him. “This painting… I can feel the pain. The loss of a proud culture as the world moves on from it.”
Shane was hyping up his brother’s work, and he could lay it on thick.
But then that was what the man did. He was their greatest cheerleader, the one who hyped them up and held their hands when they were down. Shane was the center of their universe, and she was so happy for it.
The influencer nodded. Brooke seemed to remember Stef had introduced him as an art critic with a massive following online. “Yes. That’s exactly it. You see both the sorrow of the man and the entire culture on this canvas. It’s stunning, but then all the work is. It’s been a while since I found an artist who could work across mediums like Mr. Kent.”
“I believe I told you he was one of a kind.” Stef wore his semblance of a suit. Slacks, dress shirt, and an elegant jacket sans tie. And he was wearing cowboy boots. His wife was a willowy beauty in a cocktail dress.
Though she noticed Jen Talbot’s normally full wine glass was water this evening.
Rachel sidled up next to her. She was in a cocktail dress as well, with sky-high heels. The best part of her sister-in-law’s outfit though was her smile. In the weeks since the night she’d blown up, Max and Rye and Rachel had been working on their marriage. On reconnecting as partners rather than just parents. A couple of sessions with Alexei and they were really talking.