Still, Joelle trembles in my lap, her whole body unsure.
I cup her cheek with one hand, guiding her attention gently back to me. “You okay?” I ask softly. “Tell me the truth.”
She swallows, her voice barely a whisper. “I just… I don’t want to mess anything up between you two.”
The laugh that escapes me is quick. “Darlin’, nothing about this is messin’ anything up.”
She glances at Wade, and he gives her one of his rare, solemn nods. A rancher’s version of emotional validation.
When she turns back toward me, her shoulders soften, then she leans in and kisses me.
It’s warm, tender, and a little shaky.
“Alright,” I murmur against her lips, brushing a straycurl behind her ear. “You want me to keep goin’?”
Her eyes flutter closed. “Please.”
So, I settle her back into my lap, helping her find her balance. She clings lightly to my shoulders, trusting me to hold her. I lower my head, take her gently into my mouth again, and her whimper of relief cracks me open.
Her whole body responds this time, letting me take the weight from her. Her hips shift closer, pressing into my erection with quiet desperation. Her fingers slide back into my hair, clutching instead of stroking.
Every pull from my mouth eases something in her, every sound she makes unwinds me.
Her milk slows to a trickle, and she finally sags fully into me, melted and pliant. I kiss the soft skin beneath her nipple before lifting my head.
Her eyes are half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted. She looks peaceful, comfortable, and safe. Exactly the way she should.
I glance over at Wade. He’s watching her, not me. Watching the way she rests in my arms and the softness that settles into her.
And in that moment, the three of us fall into a quiet that feels like the beginning.
Wade stands slowly, pushing off his knee, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he steps closer. Joelle stiffens for half a heartbeat, but then his fingers touch her cheek, one knuckle brushing her flushed skin, and she exhales, sinking into my arms again.
“You did good,” Wade murmurs. “Both of you.”
Wade’s hand slides to the back of her head, his thumb stroking her hairline with a gentleness that would shock most people who think they know him. He meets my eyes,seeking agreement for what happens next. I nod.
“Come on,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Let’s take her upstairs.”
Joelle’s head lifts from my chest, eyes wide, searching.
“Hey,” I say softly, tipping her chin so she’s looking only at me. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Wade nods, stepping closer until he’s a warm presence at her side. “We’re not askin’ for anything but to hold you,” he adds. “Make you feel good. And if you want more…”
A small, shaky sound slips from her throat, her fingers curling tighter in my shirt.
“I… want to,” she whispers.
And my pulse kicks hard.
Wade’s expression remains impassive, but his posture loosens as if the tension he’s carried, ever since our father got sick and he absorbed all the responsibility, finally leaves him.
I ease my hands under Joelle’s thighs and stand, lifting her effortlessly, and she clings to me, hooking her arms around my neck as her cheek brushes my jaw. Wade walks ahead of us, turning off the lamps, dimming the house and making it ready for the night.
When we reach the stairs, Joelle lifts her head, her eyes flicking between us.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asks, voice faint. “I wouldn’t ever want to be the reason there was bad blood between you.”
