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Hope didn’t have bitterness in her voice. Her life was her life and the state had done their best by her. It wasn’t their fault for her circumstances.

He hummed. “You told me you had no friends who would be worried about you. That’s not really the case, is it?”

It was. “I have one but he’s out of touch for long periods of time. You know about the one I lost a few years ago. I love talking and getting to know people but I don’t have friends. Not really.” A deep breath. “Except now I have Wendy and Sonya, I guess.”

“So secretive.”

Yeah, she was, and she wasn’t used to sharing. That was one of the negatives she had from growing up in the system: keeping her secrets and dreams to herself. People would use them to hurt her or try to destroy them. If she didn’t share them, no one could use them against her or tell her she couldn’t do them.

But still, she wasn’t a negative person as a whole. She loved with her whole heart. It was merely hard to get access to her love.

Hope ground her jaw as she thought about the one man she’d made the mistake of sharing her dreams with. The one who’d nearly destroyed her.

“You could tell me more stories of your childhood with the two troublemakers that you love so much.”

“They get me into so much trouble.”

“They get you into trouble? I’m pretty sure you threw the first piece of dough tonight.”

He laughed without reservation. “Bastard deserved it. Did you see the size he made my dick?”

She patted his chest and allowed her hand to linger. “I did, but we both know you’re far bigger than that.”

“Thank you,” he said, one hand coming out from the blanket. “It was insulting and he needed to be taught a lesson.”

“I think it’s great the three of you are so close.” No denying the wistfulness in her tone. She would have loved to have someone like that in her life.

“I wouldn’t have survived without them, that’s for sure.” He replaced his hand below the blanket, gripping her hip. “Wouldn’t have met you and brought you home with me so you can have your wicked way with my deprived body.”

The snort escaped before she could even contemplate stopping it. “Is that what’s happening here?” She pulled back enough to look at him.

He nodded, the snowflakes in his blond hair giving off a shimmer when the flames flickered over them seconds before they melted, leaving it so he appeared to have diamond dust on the strands.

She recognized the expression. They’d gotten the same one from all three of the men after they’d proceeded to make a mess of themselves and the kitchen earlier tonight. The whole yeah-I’m-full-of-it-but-dammit-I’m-adorably-sexy-so-you-should-forgive-me-anything look.

Flicking her tongue over her lower lip, she rose up enough to straddle him in the seat. He was hard beneath her and he gripped her hips with both hands, keeping her aligned with his cock. Eyes darkening in the low, intimate light, he stared at her.

The blanket remained at her shoulders, giving them an almost tent-like situation. “How wicked of a way am I allowed to have?”

His groan was the match to her kerosene. “Whatever you want, Flykra. Whatever the fuck you want.”

A second passed when she thought about teasing him and playing coy but she couldn’t do it. Her time here with him was coming to an end. She knew it, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge that fact.

And that truth had her admitting what she wanted. “Take me inside, Mitchell. I want there to be nothing but skin between us.” His growl reverberated between them. She put her lips on his. “I want you.”

His response was to surge up from the cushion, keeping her in his arms. Hope locked her ankles around his waist as he carried her into the house, not turning on a light or stopping for the blanket that fell off her shoulders when he rose. Their lips were locked and she simply gave in to him, wanting anything and everything he had to offer.

Chapter Seventeen

Mitchell placed her on the bed and followed her down. He didn’t want space between them. Now or ever. His bedroom—theirs—had one lamp glowing, allowing him to see her. Her big brown eyes watched him, full of desire.

For him.

He had every intention of fulfilling her desire. Nothing but skin on skin for the two of them. She lay where he’d placed her, not moving. But, even so, the sharp rise and fall of her full breasts as she breathed made him realize something.

“You’re staring.” Her comment was soft.

“You’re beautiful, Flykra. How could I not?” He dragged his finger down the middle of her breasts until he reached the hem. “You know something?”

She rolled her lower lip in her teeth and he bit off a groan. God, she killed him with that motion every fucking time.

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