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“There’s two of us. She can have a dick in her at all times.”
We grinned at the possibility—no, probability—and I adjusted myself in my jeans. Once we married her tomorrow, I had no intention of letting her out of bed, or off our dicks, for a long, long time. We had lost time to make up for.
A big truck pulled up in front of the house and Riley Townsend climbed out, went around the hood and opened the door for Sarah. She hopped down, saw us and smiled.
“Fuck, the dimple,” King whispered.
Yeah, it was pretty fucking ruthless and she had no idea of its simple power.
Of hers.
She came up her shoveled walkway, her eyes on us the whole time.
“Hi,” she said, her cheeks pink. While she seemed eager to see us, she looked…shy. Even after everything we’d done together, she was still innocent.
Barely. Only strong willpower and our jeans had kept us from claiming her the night before. And this morning.
“You know Riley, don’t you?” she asked.
He stepped forward, shook my hand, then King’s. “Of course. Been awhile.”
He was a lawyer and a few years ahead of us in school. We’d played in a summer league softball team together a while back.
“Let’s um…get out of the cold,” Sarah prompted.
“I’ll say goodbye then. They’ll see you to the ranch, I assume,” Riley said, glancing down at Sarah.
The ranch?
“Oh, um…” She flicked her gaze to us, then back at Riley. “Yes. I hope the addition of two more won’t be a problem. Can I bring something?”
Riley grinned. “No problem at all. Kady and the other women are going to be thrilled. As for bringing something, just bring them.” He pointed at us.
With a small wave, he turned and headed back to his truck, most likely eager to get back to the heater.
“Are we headed somewhere, princess?” I asked.
She gave a slight shiver, then pulled out her house key. We moved out of the way to let her open the door, then followed her inside.
She tugged off her boots and I stared at her ass in her jeans as she did so, remembering what it looked like bare and all pink from our palms.
“Want something to drink?” she asked as we toed off our boots in her wake.
“What’s the matter?” King asked. “You look nervous.”
She did. Her hands slid up and down her thighs, as if they were damp with sweat. She bit her lip and her breathing was different. Definitely nervous. She couldn’t hide anything from us.
She took a deep breath, let it out, then blurted, “Aiden Steele is my father.”
What.
The.
Fuck?
Okay, I’d been wrong. She could definitely hide something from us.
“What?” King asked after a long, long pause as we processed her words.
