Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I keep kissing him as I caress him through the fabric, then I drop to my knees, take out his cock, and take him in my mouth.
Cade’s silent, but his body tells me how good I’m making him feel. He strokes my cheek and gives me worshipful looks when I glance up at him.
As I’m sucking on him, Rhett comes over and lifts my hips, bending me at the waist. He strokes a finger between my legs, finding me soaking wet.
With a rough grunt, he tugs my panties aside, not even bothering to take them off, and feeds his cock into my pussy with one long stroke.
I keep one hand on Cade’s cock and brace myself on the table with the other, but Rhett takes it easier on me than he did the other night, probably so I don’t accidentally hurt Cade.
Rhett pumps into me slow and steady while I suck on his brother, and it feels so good to be between the two of them, to be connected to them. For a few quick seconds, I imagine what this scene looks like from a distance, and can’t believe I’m in the middle of it, but I also can’t believe my luck.
I’m not sure I would have said I believe in fate a month ago, but I feel like I was meant to meet these men. They’re everything I didn’t know I wanted and needed.
Cade makes a quiet groan that brings me back to the present. I squeeze his cock and take him deeper, gagging myself on him as he swells in my mouth.
He cups the back of my head and fucks into my mouth a few times, and then he’s coming, spurting into my throat, giving me everything he’s got.
As soon as Cade pulls back, Rhett lets me know he was waiting for the moment. He pounds into me harder and deeper and faster until I’m just a string of unintelligible sounds and incredible sensations. He finds my clit and presses there, letting the motion of my body do the rubbing.
I cry out his name, then moan as an orgasm races up and overtakes me, just as hard and deep as Rhett’s cock.
My body seizes, then shudders as wave after wave washes through me. Through my haze, I can feel Rhett coming, too. His cock swells, then paints my insides with his hot release.
It’s overwhelming in the very best way, and I’m grateful Rhett has an arm around my middle, holding onto me as we come apart together.
He stays buried inside me, even after his cock stops pulsing. “Fuck, Wren, that was good.” His voice is hot at my ear as he bends over me, and I like that he uses my real name, even though I like the nickname he gave me, too.
“So good,” I manage to say.
Rhett slips out of me, and I straighten my legs, drawing in a shuddering breath as I take in the table. The cards are so scattered, it looks like we built a house of cards and knocked the whole thing down. A few cards even ended up on the floor, probably from me bracing myself against the table.
“I guess our game is over?” I say with a laugh.
Boone comes over, scoops me off the floor, tosses me over his shoulder, and heads for the bedroom. “I think it’s just beginning.”
CHAPTER 29
WREN
Before Rhett’s tires were slashed, my field routes were close to the known trafficking corridors. After that warning, no amount of arguing could make those routes acceptable to the Wilder brothers.
But stopping my work isn’t an option, either. If I vanish from the backcountry the day after someone slashes the tires, Turner might decide he’s successfully scared me off, or worse, he might assume I know enough to be dangerous. According to Novak, either option could push him into moving faster.
My job is to keep working, but with an important change: I need to stay out of the hot zones, keep clear of the cache sites, and avoid the areas Cade has shaded in red on our shared map.
Aside from the location change, the parameters stay the same. I need to be visible and follow a routine, but I’m not going to play investigator or approach anyone.
Now, my work happens in quieter areas, where the damage has spread outward. I’m still documenting abandoned game trails, disturbed bedding sites, and the way animals shift when human movement starts affecting their territory. Secondary displacement patterns still matter, even if they don’t look like evidence to anyone but me.
I’m glad to keep working, too, because it’s better than hiding indoors while the bad men chase me out of the mountains I came here to study.
The brothers hate it.
They hate it with a contained fury that sits in the silence during breakfast and makes every zipper on my field pack sound too loud when I prepare to go out. But they don’t try to lock me inside, because we’ve had that fight a few times, and I think they’ve come to understand the difference between protecting me and taking away the thing that makes me feel like myself.