Page 69 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I smile a little wider, easy as breathing. “I’m Rex. Rex Morgan.”

Millie beams. “Rex is one of the good guys… when he’s in town.”

“Welcome to Redwood Run, darlin’.”

“Thank you,” June says quietly. “It’s… different.”

I nod. “Yeah. It is.” Then, because I don’t know how to keep things light when I want it to be real, I add, “But you look like you’re doing alright.”

June’s throat works as she swallows. Her eyes hold mine for one beat too long.

And right there, in the middle of Pine Knot Pizza, with the smell of garlic and the whole town humming around us, I feel it.

That clean, unmistakable thread.

Connection.

Shit.

Sleep hits me hard as a freight train.

One minute I’m sprawled out in my bed, boots kicked off, Bolt snoring loudly, my mind still humming with market noise and pizza grease and that one bright smile I can’t seem to scrape off the inside of my skull…

And the next, I’m dreaming, and June’s legs are wrapped around my neck.

Her pussy pulses in my face. I want to remember everything, the taste of her, the shake in her thighs, the way she clenches when I drag my tongue slowly over her pussy. I grab her hips, hold her still, coax a sharper sound from her.

She’s got her hand in my hair, anchoring me, tugging me closer. My scalp prickles and I like it. I want to drown in her, let all that sweetness smother out the rest of the world.

Under my tongue, she’s slick and warm, shuddering when I curl my finger inside her, tracing slow circles that make her moan.

The vibrator buzzes between my fingers as I edge it closer to her. She gasps, and the sound is half laughter, half plea.

I love how she tries to bite it down, the flush up her neck, her knees clamping around my ears like she’s afraid she’ll float away if I let go. I lap back and forth, intense and mean, until she’s whimpering my name with her mouth slack and her hips canting. The toy glides where I guide it… she’s leaking all over my chin, and I want her to make a mess, to soak me, to lose herself.

She’s saying please now, just a whisper, like a secret, and I flatten my tongue, slide the tip of the vibrator right over her clit, and she arches off the bed, nearly cracks my nose on her pubic bone.

I squeeze her ass and push in deeper, riding her through it, and the whole time she’s trembling, grabbing at my headboard and then at me again.

She collapses, the buzz in my hand forgotten, her whole body tightened to the edge of pain, then breaking, then open and loose, her thighs shaking so hard they jitter my jaw.

I don’t know how long I hang onto her, mouth working, her taste sharp and dizzying.

We ride this crest together, June locked on me like I’m a raft and she’s going over a waterfall.

I lift my head. June’s eyes are glassy, then fierce, her smile crooked but greedy. She pulls me up by the shoulder and rolls me onto my back. Her skin is streaked with sweat, pale as a city dawn, and I trace the line of her hip with trembling hands.

She’s glossy under the motel lamplight, bruised holy between her thighs, and when she reaches for the button on my jeans, I just let her.

Threadbare denim and cotton boxers; she doesn’t bother with a zipper, just yanks, and I lift my hips so she can slide them down. The sudden chill on my thighs makes me jump. Her laughter is hoarse, caught in the back of her throat. June’s hand finds me, her palm warm and dry and sure.

She strokes me twice, slowly, like she’s savoring it. Her thumb slips over the head, and I curse, and she grins, eyes intent and wolf bright.

“Oh, darlin’, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She moves down, her hair ruffled in soft, damp spikes, her breath hot where it fans out over my belly. I watch the line of her tongue as she runs it up the underside of my cock, taking me in, balls and all.

She moans a little as she works me, which is almost too much; I nearly kick the headboard clenching up. Her mouth is hot, her tongue clever and unhurried, and she cups my balls with one hand and pins my hip with the other, keeping me still and at her mercy. I want to jam my fists in her hair, but I settle for whispering her name, over and over again.