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HEATH
I wake up at the crack of dawn, my arms empty and my whole body restless. I check on Emily. She’s fast asleep, her covers thrown off and her legs akimbo.
The urge to kiss her awake, my head between those thighs, is almost overwhelming. But she needs to make the next move. Last night was a free pass for all of us. There was no way Wyatt wasn’t going to get a taste of her, and wild horses couldn’t have kept me away from sharing that first step with them.
But going any further? It needs to be her choice, made after enough time to have second thoughts and give them fair weight.
Instead of crawling into her bed, I force myself through a punishing workout and a cold shower, then set about making breakfast.
I have pancake batter prepared and sausages on the griddle when Emily wanders into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her hair twisted up into two buns on either side of her head.
She’s pulled on socks, but otherwise is wearing what I tucked her into bed in. Those little shorts and that super soft T-shirt.
And a shy but determined look on her face. “I still want this,” she whispers, her voice shaking.
That hits me square in the chest, and I pull her in close. “Good girl,” I say, my voice rasping. “I’m so fucking glad.”
I haul her up and set her on the counter. She wraps her arms around my neck and her thighs around my waist, clinging to me as I wedge myself against her.
And then I give her a proper good-morning kiss.
A teasing hello, a lingering play of lips and tongues, then a deeper, serious exploration of how fucking good she tastes. And finally, smiles and laughter. Her breath hitches at the end, and I chase her mouth once more, needing another sweet hit.
Holding her in my arms like this unlocks something inside me, something dangerously close to what I’ve always craved and known was impossible. A sweet girl of my own, a little miss to take care of.
I’m not sure I can even name it as a real thing—or if I want to even try. Not yet. Because she’s not mine; that’s not possible. Not exclusively.
Ours.
Is that even possible? And what would Wyatt do if I wanted her to call me Daddy?
What would Emily say?
Questions best punted down the line.
“Good morning,” I murmur as I try to regain my equilibrium. “How’d you sleep?”
“So well.” She bites her lip, her gaze dropping to my mouth.
Fuck it. Equilibrium is overrated.
I dive in again, just as hungry as she is for more. I bite at her lower lip, a nip that she returns then soothes with a gentle lick. Our little miss is a natural.
That’s how Wyatt finds us. When we finally notice him, he’s got a matching hunger in his own eyes, so I step out of the way, pulling him in. Showing him that she’s his first, and I’ll never stand in his way.
He gives me a look that’s hard to read, then Emily grabs the front of his shirt and hauls him in close. “Good morning, my sex buddy.”
He laughs and groans at the same time, then dives into her mouth.
When they’re finished—for now—I urge them to eat something while we debate the merits of going hiking.
“If we stayed here,” Emily says boldly, her eyes twinkling, “we could fool around. Work our way through some of those lessons on the way to bang town.”
Wyatt points his fork at me. “She makes an excellent point.”
“Lesson number…” I’ve forgotten how many we covered last night. “Let’s call this lesson number six. Anticipation is foreplay. So is getting to know one another better. And fresh air builds up a good appetite.”
“That sounds like three lessons. Six, seven, eight. We’re getting closer, Wyatt.” Emily winks at him. “Eat up. You’re going to need your energy.”
