“Joelle.”
My name is a rasp of desire, catching against the tightness of his throat. I swallow thickly, anticipation a throb that heats my breasts and lower to all the places his brother has discovered, but he hasn’t.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Caleb whispers.
“I won’t,” I breathe.
His lips brush my collarbone first, feather-light, tracing heat down my chest. He helps me lift my shirt and undo my bra, and then I’m bare to him, flushed and full and ready for his mouth.
He looks up at me, his full lips parted, eyes wide, and hands desperate at my hips.
“Joelle. You’re so beautiful,” he says, and then his mouth closes around me, warm and reverent.
My head falls back with a soft cry, the relief instant, sweet and overwhelming, pulling tears from my eyes as tension releases from deep inside. His hands steady me, one at my hip, one splayed over my back, holding me against him, his mouth coaxing warmth from me with slow, deepsuction that curls my toes.
I’m trembling, my fingers tangled in his damp hair, when the front door opens.
Boots on the floor.Thud. Thud. Thud.
I should pull away, but I can’t. My hips jerk as arousal surges. Caleb is lost, his eyes closed, his face serene. Behind us, there’s a sharp inhale.
“Caleb?”
Wade’s voice sounds rough and confused.
Caleb lifts his mouth from my breast, wiping the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. His arms stay around me, holding me firmly in his lap.
I turn, heart hammering, to see Wade standing in the doorway, eyes wide, jaw set, heat radiating from him like a storm rolling in.
And all three of us go utterly still.
My heart thunders in my chest, fear crashing over me. Tears spring to my eyes. Caleb says something soothing, but I’m too paralyzed to make out the words. Have I done something so wrong, letting Caleb perform Wade’s sacred task, that they might ask me to leave?
Wade told me he wanted to share me, but did he mean this or something different? I try to cover myself, but Caleb stops me.
Then Wade slumps into a chair next to us, tipping up the brim of his black hat with his index finger. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Chapter 18
Caleb
I never expected it to feel like this. Joelle’s weight in my lap, her knees hugging my hips, her breath ghosting my cheek; none of it feels unfamiliar. But it’s the taste of her that wrecks me; warm and sweet, it’s a relief that hits the back of my throat and sends heat rolling down my spine. And the way she sighs, like my mouth is soothing her hurt makes me tug her close.
My hands know exactly where to go. One at her hip, keeps her grounded, and the other splayed up her back, feels every tremble that runs through her. She’s tense at first, holding herself tight, but the moment my mouth eases the pressure, she melts. The comfort I feel from holding her close, it’s like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.
Joelle’s fingers thread through my damp hair, tightening and loosening in small, uneven patterns that tell me more than words ever could. She’s overwhelmed. She’s relieved. And somewhere in there, she’s feeling the build of pleasure.
The room warms around us, then the front door opens, and Wade’s voice saying my name hits like a crack of lightning. For a second, Joelle is rigid in my arms, panic flooding her body so fast I feel it before I see it.
I lift my mouth carefully, so she doesn’t jolt from discomfort. Milk trickles down her skin, her breath shaking, her eyes wide with the fear she’s done something unforgivable.
“Easy,” I murmur but she doesn’t seem to hear me. I keep one arm locked around her waist, rubbing small circles along her spine. “Hey. Look at me.”
Her gaze flicks up, wet and scared.
But Wade’s already moved, not away from us but toward. He drops into the chair beside us, tips up the brim of his hat with a lazy flick of his finger, and lets out a slow exhale like he’s been holding it for hours.
“Don’t stop on my account.” His voice is rough but calm—so perfectly Wade, I can’t help but smile.
