“Best day ever,” she murmurs, eyes barely opening.
Boone goes soft in a way he only ever does for her. “Yeah, kiddo. It really was.”
She smiles, satisfied, and drifts off before we turn off the lamp.
We stand there for a beat after the door clicks shut.
I feel it shift the moment we turn toward each other.
Silas is the first to grin, slow and wicked, loosening his tie. “Well,” he says lightly, “Mrs. Taylor Grant Westbrook?—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” I warn.
Boone snorts. Caleb’s mouth curves.
But then Boone steps closer. No jokes. No bravado. Just heat and intent, and the day still hanging between us.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod. “I’ve never been more okay.”
That’s all it takes.
Silas is the first to touch me, fingers sliding up my arms, mouth grazing my neck.
“You’re lethal in that dress,” he murmurs.
Boone’s hands follow, palms spanning my hips, claiming what’s already his. Caleb presses in behind me, chest to my back, his presence solid and unavoidable.
The dress doesn’t last long.
By the time my back meets the mattress, my body is already humming, nerves lit up, breath shallow.
Silas looms over me, dark eyes locked on mine, his shirt gone and his jeans half undone, the thick ridge of him straining behind the zipper. His hands grip my thighs and pull them apart, a man who’s done holding back.
“Look at her,” he murmurs. “Look at what she gives us when she finally lets go.”
“She’s so open,” Boone adds quietly from between my legs, fingers tracing me with slow, knowing intent. He’s stripped down, lean and hungry, eyes dark with devotion. “You’ve been holding this in all day, haven’t you? Waiting for us.”
I nod, too breathless to speak.
But Caleb’s behind me now, sitting against the headboard with me in his lap, propped against his chest as he kisses the side of my neck. His hands slide up to cup my breasts through my bra, tugging the fabric down to bare my nipples, already peaked and aching.
“She’s missed all of us,” he says, lazy grin pressed against my skin. “Didn’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I want… I want everything.”
Silas’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “Then give it up. Don’t hold anything back.”
And then they move together.
Boone yanks my panties down and tosses them aside. “I want to taste you. I need to taste you.”
The second his mouth finds me, I’m gone. His tongue is wicked, slow at first, then firm and fast, licking deep while his fingers press against the edge of my entrance, spreading me open. Every stroke makes my hips jerk, but Caleb holds me still, arms tight around my middle, his teeth tugging gently at my earlobe.
“You want this?” he murmurs.
I can’t answer.
