Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“You sure you can carry me with all that cake and frosting weighing me down?” I say, trying to lighten the moment.
He laughs, kissing my lips hard.
“Come on,” he murmurs.
I've a strong sense of where this is going, but I don’t ask. Neither does Brookes as he stands and follows. The barn looms in the distance, doors open, shadows spilling out into the night.
Brookes’s footsteps are heavy, thudding in time with my heart. I’m fizzy with anticipation and aching with desire. I’m overwhelmed with this chance to be a different Janey. One who’s not weighed down by my mother’s high expectations for perfection at all costs. One who can lust after two men and be brave enough to discover if their bodies and their intentions are as hot as she imagines.
For once, I don’t hesitate.
I let them lead me into a situation I know better than to be a part of, ready to let all my inhibitions fly away with the wind.
Ready to devour them both like frosting.
Chapter 2
Mason
We should have left when the party finished. We should have gotten into our truck and driven away with the memory of Joelle’s sexy friend stashed away for later, when we retired to our rooms alone, with just our own hands for company.
That thought comes too late to matter, settling in somewhere behind my ribs as I carry pretty Janey across the yard, her body warm against mine, her breath brushing my throat as she pants with anticipation.
I knew better the second she stepped onto that porch. Knew better the way she looked at us. Curious. A little unsure. Still sitting between us anyway like she’d already made the decision to fuck us and hadn’t said it out loud yet.
Brookes warned me that she’s in heat. He caught her looking at us while she licked frosting off her fork like she was thinking about licking other things. Wade warned me earlier, before he disappeared upstairs to enjoy fucking his woman.
“Janey’s a good girl,” he said. “A good woman,” he corrected. “She isn’t looking for the kind of fun you and your brother enjoy. And her mama’s a dragon. Best not to get involved.”
But good girls don’t search for cowboys in their pretty pajamas unless they’re looking for fun. They don’t lean in like Janey did, kissing us like she was sampling ice cream flavors.
She might be a good girl at home, but tonight? She’s looking to be bad.
She doesn’t feel like a mistake in my arms. She feels soft in the right places, solid in others, her weight settling against me totally, trusting I won’t drop her. Her legs shift slightly at my hips as I walk, her bare skin brushing through the thin fabric between us, and I have to tighten my hold to keep my focus where it belongs.
Her hair brushes my jaw when she moves, warm brown with lighter strands, soft where it slips against my skin. It’s the kind of hair that looks a little messy in a way I’ve always preferred. A style you can get your hands into without ruining it.
Janey’s face turns slightly, and I catch a glimpse of her profile in the low light. She has a strong nose that gives her face a determined edge. Freckles dust across her nose and cheeks, faint but there, standing out more with the color high in her skin. She’s flushed all the way down her throat, heat rising fast.
Her eyes flick up at me for a second, catching what little light there is, warm as honey.
That’s what gets me.
She isn’t preening or searching for our appreciation. There’s nothing practiced about her. She’s genuine and unguarded. Sweet as pie. Brave, too.
But her breath gives her away, the way it stutters when I adjust my grip, the way her fingers curl tighter into my shirt instead of pushing me away. She’s inexperienced at letting herself go, but she’s allowing this. She’s taking a chance on us and we won’t disappoint.
Behind us, Brookes follows. I feel him there, watching. He always watches first. Always lets me make the move.
That’s how this has always worked between us.
Maybe we should be wary of being Janey’s naughty little experiment, but she’s too ripe to leave hanging. And she tastes too sweet not to savor.
The barn door creaks when I push it wider, the cooler air inside cutting through the heat that’s been building under my skin since Janey sat down between us. I set her on her feet slowly, my hands lingering at her waist a second longer than necessary.
She doesn’t step back.
Her white cotton pajamas look almost innocent in this light, the little eyelet holes letting hints of skin peek through. But the way her nipples are already tight against the thin fabric tells me innocence left the building the second she sat down on that swing.