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The side of his mouth quirks into a devilish half-smile, and delicious whiskey breath falls over my lips. “I’m taking you down, Russo.”
If only he would. I’d let go right now. But his family is staring at us as a million indecent thoughts flash across my mind.
I purse my lips then lift my eyebrows. “What you don’t know about me,Hunter,is I don’t give up easy.”
I reach over to twist the spinner, but it’s just out of reach.
Colt uses his toe to push it closer. “Come on, Mols, take him down.”
Dash still stares me in the eyes, but he says to his brother, “Hey. Whose side are you on?”
We make five more moves, and my arms are like jelly. His forearms and tattoos hold him up, firm, secure, so strong, and they’ll never give up. All his muscles flex around me, and I want him to take me, force me deeply into his chest, and use those biceps to hold me up against a wall and take me no holds barred.
The whiskey in my system is not making it easy… in the end, I don’t know if Dash is just the better man, but when trying to put my foot in an inconvenient location, I fall on top of him, my legs are wide and straddle one of his, and I have to work hard not to think about how goddamn lustful his thigh feels on my core. I fill instantly with a desire to grind myself against his leg and bring myself to the blinding orgasm only Dash’s body can give me.
I push myself off fast; the alcohol is making me lose my mind. It’s making me want to break this friendship agreement that I shook on in the kitchen and do naughty things to this man. It’s making me want to risk it all for another night in bed with him.
I get up and look around at the eyes on us. Something like shame for all my dirty thoughts sends a shiver through me, and I wonder if anyone can see it. See how I really feel about their loving grump.
Dash is in the final with Sam, and I try not to be jealous. I try not to wish it’s me back in the cage of his stiff arms, my ass in the air with his face inches away. I try not to want it to be me with my hand reaching through his legs, inches from that big, pussy pleasing cock of his. I’m a pervert. A drunk-ass pervert, and I need to get home.
So when Sam wins, and people finally stop hooting and hollering that there’s a new champion on the podium, I wait until Dash is away from the group again and say, “I think I should head back now. I want to do a last stable check before going to bed and I’m… going to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll even notice everything at this point. Can’t be having another one of Sam’s coffees.”
His chest puffs in something like a laugh. “No problem. I’ll drive us back now.”
“You okay to drive?”
“I’ve had a couple, but the roads are pretty much our own personal driveways.” He checks his watch. “Our plows will have been by now, but if you’ll feel better about not being in a car with me we can stay here. There’s a guest room and a couch.”
I remember the time Donovan had a few too many drinks and wanted to drive us home. When I told him my concerns, he told me what a baby I was and how I was overreacting. Dash… he never makes me feel that way. He justifies my every emotion.
But I’m not worried. He seems pretty sober, definitely compared to me. “Let’s go back.”
We say our goodbyes, and I take one last look around the warm nest of love this family has created, appreciating more deeply than they could know just how much it meant to me to have a family game night. Along with a sabertooth tiger, I would have given a lot for even just a game of Monopoly.
The Hunters have everything I ever wished for growing up.
They have each other.This.This is what my sister and I will have one day. When she and I have kids and our mom is better. I close my eyes and picture it.This.
I have to shove down the wish to want it right here, on this very ranch, because the Hunters have more than just each other. They have mountains, and horses, and sleigh rides, and… Dash.
ChapterTwenty-Three
DASH
Jolie hada shit-eating grin on her face when she pulled that Twister game out. Up to no good, and now I know… she can see right through me. Jojo knows. I might be faking it ’til I make it with Molly as a friend, but right now, I think of her as a million times more than that, and that Twister game didn’t shore up my self-control.
Molly looked right in Big Sky. She fit right in with her joyous laughter and bubbly energy. She was damn cute asking Sam what’s in an Irish coffee and vibing with Eve. Sam’s dad brightened up when she asked him about San Francisco, and my mom let Molly try on her turquoise earrings after telling Mom how much she loves the blue-green stone. Everyone loves Molly.Everyone.
Molly talks the whole way home, and normally, I don’t like hearing people babble on, not this late in the day, when typically, I’ve been up for too many hours. But Molly’s voice is balm for my soul. I listen to some of what she says, but sometimes, her voice just soothes me in the background when I have to concentrate a bit harder around a bend that has already filled back up with snow after the plows. She keeps me company, and this feeling of not being alone anymore is addictive.
We park up safely outside the stables, and I get out quickly to run around and open the door for her. I take Molly’s hand and help her out of the truck. A real truck. Not like the douchey one that fuckbag Grant has.
“Thanks,” she says, her boots hitting the ground. She hiccups, and it’s cute as hell.
She puts her hand up in front of her mouth. “Shit. I think I drank too much. It was only three drinks but…”
“Yeah. Me, too…”
