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She felt Orlando press up against her from behind then she felt his hand move under her skirt against her thigh.
“The skirt is more accessible. I think I like it more.”
She wiggled out of their holds and fixed her skirt.
“I thought you invited me over for breakfast.” She placed her hands on her hips. She tried to pretend to not be turned on. Who was she kidding? She was undressing them with her eyes. She could practically wipe the drool from the corners of her mouth.
Orlando grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
“We did. We were just hoping we could have you, too, besides bacon and eggs,” he teased.
“Orlando,” she scolded, and Memphis chuckled.
“I have to tell you, sweetheart, you bring out a side of Orlando I don’t think any of us have seen.”
“That’s true. It’s sickening.”
Cassidy was shocked to see Stryker there. He sat at the table, scruff on his face and a sour expression to boot as he held a cane and stared at her. That expression of his was so effective. She didn’t want to stare at him or allow his attitude to affect her.
“Good morning, Stryker. It’s nice to see you again.”
Orlando pulled out a chair for her. “Make yourself comfortable, Cass. Memphis and I will take care of breakfast.”
“Coffee?” Memphis asked, and she shook her head.
“Water is fine. Thank you.”
She caught Stryker watching her so she glanced at him.
He immediately turned away.
“So how long of a run do you do each morning?” Orlando asked her.
“Usually six to eight miles, but today I went a little farther.”
“You got up early. I heard your back door slam closed,” Memphis said.
“Really? It was pretty early. About five, I think. You were up?” she asked him.
He held her gaze as he brought over a plate of toast, along with butter and jam.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me either,” Orlando said and brought over the bacon.
She couldn’t help but read into their statements and their eyes. Were they thinking about her as much as she was thinking about them and Cash and Coast too?
Orlando reached out, placed his fingers under her chin, then lowered to kiss her. It was slow and soft, and when he released her lips, he held her gaze. “Couldn’t get you off my mind. It was torture.”
She felt her belly tighten and her nipples harden from his words. But then a spoon fell to the floor by Stryker. She turned that way, saw him struggle to reach it, and got up and got it for him. On her way up, he gripped her wrist.
“I don’t need your help.” He released her wrist, and she placed the spoon onto the table.
“It appeared you did. My bad.” She went to sit back down. The man was a force, and for some ungodly, insane reason, when Stryker touched her, when she’d absorbed his cologne as he grabbed her wrist, she felt something. She must be losing her mind.
“A simple thank you would have sufficed, Stryker,” Orlando commented.
Stryker shot him a look.
